DreamWorks Vet Liron Topaz Heads To Tribeca With His Indie Short ‘Saba,’ Turning Grief Into A Visually Stunning Tale Of Love And Loss (EXCLUSIVE TRAILER)

After decades of working on some of DreamWorks Animation’s biggest franchises and directing the studio’s 2019 Oscar-shortlisted short Bilby, animator and director Liron Topaz has returned to independent filmmaking with Saba, a deeply personal and beautifully executed short that will make its world premiere at the Tribeca Festival this Saturday, June 6.

We’re excited to debut the film’s first trailer below.

Produced by Lirit Rosenzweig Topaz, the 10-minute film unfolds in a surreal universe where gravity flows upward. A young boy and his grandfather, Saba, share a life tethered to the earth by ropes and anchors. When tragedy strikes, the boy embarks on a visually poetic, for there is no dialogue in the film, journey through grief, memory, and the search for closure. The short is presented as a single continuous shot, a creative decision that serves both the film’s emotional and technical ambitions.

For Topaz, the unusual setting grew out of a simple but profound question about loss.

“The idea of gravity flowing upward came from a simple emotional question: what if the people we’ve lost never truly leave us, but continue to exist just beyond our reach?” he explained to Cartoon Brew ahead of the film’s premiere.

“In the world of Saba, everything that is alive remains grounded, while everything that is no longer living slowly drifts upward toward the other side. The concept was born from the idea that our time in this world is borrowed. We are all here temporarily, anchored for a brief moment before continuing on.”

That metaphor became the foundation for nearly every visual choice in the film. Houses, objects, and entire landscapes exist in a constant state of tension between remaining grounded and being pulled skyward.

“The upward pull became a visual expression of that inevitability, while the ropes and anchors throughout the world reflect our very human desire to hold on to the people and moments that matter most,” Topaz said. “We wanted the world to feel whimsical and poetic, but also emotionally truthful, allowing the visual language itself to reflect the film’s themes of loss, love, memory, and letting go.”

The film also marks a return to the kind of personal storytelling that first drew Topaz to animation years ago. He cites British animator Mark Baker’s The Village and The Hill Farm, along with Michael Dudok de Wit’s work, as formative influences.

“After spending much of my career in commercial animation, I felt a strong desire to return to independent filmmaking,” he explained. “I wanted to create something personal, rooted in my own experience, but open enough for audiences to bring their own personal experience to it.”

That emotional openness sits at the heart of the project. Topaz hopes viewers connect with the story through their own experiences of loss and remembrance.

“I hope audiences walk away with a sense of recognition — that longing for one more moment, one more conversation, one more chance to say what was never said,” he said. “It’s something we all carry in different ways, and the film tries to give shape to that feeling in a poetic, visual form.”

Creating the film as a single, uninterrupted shot presented another technical challenge. That said, Topaz said the approach was never intended as a showcase, but rather as the right way to deliver this narrative.

“The single-shot approach was always meant to serve the story,” he explained. “Grief is rarely experienced in neat chapters or clean transitions. It unfolds as a continuous emotional journey, and we wanted the audience to experience that journey alongside the boy in real time.”

The format also reinforces one of the film’s central ideas.

“Just as the camera never stops, neither does time,” Topaz said. “The audience is carried through memories, discoveries, moments of joy, and moments of loss without interruption.”

Production, too, mirrored that philosophy. Topaz assembled an international team of animators, including industry veterans such as James Baxter, Antoine Antin, Sandro Cleuzo, and others, all contributing to different sections of the film while maintaining the illusion of a single unbroken take.

“Every section of Saba had to connect seamlessly to the next,” Topaz said. “In many ways, the production mirrored the film itself — a collective effort built on connection, trust, and the seamless handoff from one person to another.”