Serafima Serafimova
I’ve always been anxious going through airport security. It goes back to when my family and I were in the process of moving to the UK. Every time we went through passport control, we were treated less like hopeful newcomers and more like we had something illegal hidden that only a cavity search could uncover. These days, I’m a full British citizen and no longer an angst-ridden, sweat-soaked teenager, but the nerves haven’t exactly disappeared. Now, it’s less about immigration status and more about the fear of having my suitcase opened in public and my blood-stained knickers examined for traces of class A drugs. Today’s short taps into that universal unease around airport checks, but it also unpacks something more personal – the kind of emotional baggage we carry and how we lean on those closest to us to help lighten its weight.
Completed at Aardman Academy, Baggage is a stop-motion animation, directed by Lucy Davidson, and it’s a brilliant little gem. Funny, sharply observed and crafted with real attention to detail, every scene of the five-minute short feels considered – from the expressive puppets to the cleverly imagined world they inhabit, and the props tucked inside them. What really sets Baggage apart, though, is the emotional weight beneath its playful exterior. Davidson draws from her own insecurities to create a character who carries the same quiet doubts many of us do – questions about how we compare with our friends, whether we’re on the right path, and what might spill out of us if someone looked too closely. Baggage is light, fun, and it lands in all the right places.
The dreaded ‘insecurity check’ area
The story follows three girlfriends – who also happen to be suitcases – as they check in for a flight at the airport. But when one of them is slapped with a “HEAVY” sticker, the shame sets in. As she travels along the conveyor belt towards the “insecurity check” area, she grows increasingly anxious as she begins to worry what the x-ray scan will reveal. Using handcrafted wooden puppets, the black & white stop-motion animation turns the physical act of travelling into a witty metaphor for the emotional weight we all carry. By transforming people’s insecurities into physical objects, Davidson finds fertile ground for comedy – and she takes full advantage of it.
“I made Baggage to explore my own inner world and the relationship I have with my best friends.” Davidson shared with S/W. “It was really important for me to make a female centred story, that their inner worlds matter and expressing a story that feels universal. I felt the concept had plenty of room for gags, but was also hoping to achieve a healthy balance of laughter and catharsis in exposing insecurities and deeper emotions. I hoped to create a visually memorable piece that sparks joy and relatability for viewers.”
“I was inspired by my childhood girlfriends and thinking about how our relationships with each other had changed over the years.” – Davidson on the inspiration for her story
And spark joy and relatability she absolutely does. Davidson packs her characters full of brilliant little details that bring the suitcase-ladies to life. Some items are instantly recognisable and self-explanatory – a bottle labelled “smelly feet”, a pack of heavy-flow pads – while others spark curiosity, like an undeveloped roll of film marked with the number 27. Then there are the self-deprecating ones, speaking to feelings of loneliness, worthlessness, and internalised judgement. It’s a fun and inventive concept, but also a familiar one. After all, how many of us would be happy to open ourselves up, completely, without worrying about what someone else might find?
At its core, however, Baggage is really a story about female friendship. Davidson drew inspiration for her short from memories of girls’ holidays, as well as the helplessness that comes with watching a friend struggle and not knowing what to do. Though the characters are suitcases, their bond is entirely human.The final scene captures this beautifully – an unspoken moment of solidarity as the friends roll through the world together, each carrying her own load, and sometimes a bit of each other’s too. It’s a refreshing reminder that stories about women don’t always need romance or rivalry to be powerful. Sometimes friendship is more than enough.