Film #70 - Argo

Ben Affleck noted in one of his publicity interviews for Argo that teenagers seeing the film not only probably have no historical context for the events depicted within, but probably don’t even realise the whole “Matt and Ben” thing that typified his rise to fame in the late 90s.

Aside from making me feel incredibly old, it also underlines how far Affleck has come since Forces of Nature seemed like a pretty solid career choice (to be fair, I did not hate that film). It’s redundant these days to talk about Affleck’s skill as a director after the double artistic successes of Gone Baby Gone and The Town, but let’s do it anyway. Argo is just that good a film that Affleck probably deserves a bit of critical fellatio for having made it.

Argo’s a bit of a break for Affleck, given that his two previous features took on the do-what-you-know mantra and delved into Bostonian subcultures and it feels as if Affleck is enjoying the longer leash given that Argo sprawls across the globe with major sequences in at least three different countries.

Let's hear it for Hollywood... Tony Mendez meets
with Tinsel Town veterans to fill out the back story of Argo

As you probably know by know, Argo is a loose re-telling of the fabled “Canadian Caper” on 1979 in which six American consular staff members where smuggled out of the Canadian Embassy in Tehran during the height of the Iranian Hostage Crisis with the bold cover identities of being crew members for a science fiction film – entitled Argo.

Affleck centres the story around chief extractor Tony Mendez (played by Affleck himself) who has the somewhat gargantuan task of convincing not only Washington brass to let him move ahead with a plan that even he regards as ludicrous but also the stranded diplomats themselves, who are none to keen to put their lives on the line for a plan they don’t see as possibly working.

Fortunately the actors playing the diplomats are
more confident performers than their characters

The set up is rife with tension and the ongoing conflicts and cooperation between Mendez, the sequestered Americans, the American government, the Hollywood experts lending authenticity to the plan and the Canadian Ambassador (Victor Garber) allow for rich dramatic mining that is satisfyingly complex enough that it never needs to veer into melodrama. Even from as early as co-writing Good Will Hunting, Affleck has understood that its better to focus on the narrative and drama of interaction than to rely on gimmicky spectacle to get by. Yes, we're pretending Armageddon didn't happen. And Daredevil.

Of course, given the high stakes situation Argo isn’t just a talkfest and the all of that narrative development is complemented by tense sequences as the characters and their tenuous existence are put under threat of discovery by increasingly suspicious Iranian forces.

It’s worth noting that Affleck is a filmmaker at this point rather than a historian and though the mise en scene lovingly recreates the late 70s, Affleck does take considerable liberties with the facts. The role of the Canadian government in securing the diplomats’ freedom is almost completely overlooked in Argo and the original cut even implied that Canada ultimately took credit for the USA’s work. This has been minorly remedied with the current theatrical cut after it caused some consternation at the Toronto International Film Festival, but it is worth going in knowing you won’t be getting the full story.

Likewise, several of the tense sequences later in the film, in particular the airport sequence, are gross overstatements of how events actually unfolded.

I will give Affleck full credit here though. When confronted with these departures from fact he was very upfront about the role of a filmmaker in needing to make decisions about how events are depicted in a w ay that will be satisfying to audiences.

Anything to declare?

And it works. By the time the rescue is finally effected (sorry if that’s a spoiler), the tension is sky high and the relief at its eventual dissipation is elating.

If there’s one thing that disappointed me about Argo (and I am really nitpicking here) is that we don’t get much of a sense of the inner workings or motivations or the Iranians during this time. Argo is unashamedly a pro-American film, which may explain why the Canadians are so obscured, but its confusing for someone who was four months old at the time of the events as to why the Iranians are merely portrayed as villains when there’s enough info in the film to suggested there’s a broader context we’re just not allowed to spend any time with.

For all of that, I think Argo will be the one to watch come Oscar season (I’m tipping The Master for performances and Argo for writing/direction) and, presuming it wins, will absolutely deserve it.

Film #69 - Seven Psychopaths

I’ve been struggling with the opening paragraph of this review. Not because I don’t know what I think of Seven Psychopaths but because it’s one of those films that already has such hype around it that I feel like my opinion was handed to me before I walked in.

Except, I struggle to feel this hype even as I can academically understand where it comes from.

Having been pleasantly surprised by Martin McDonagh’s previous In Bruges, a film which rehabilitated Colin Farrell as an actor for me, I had been disappointed to miss out on Seven Psychopaths as part of TIFF (I went to see Blancanieves instead). Now I’m glad I was able to free up that slot after what I’d call a fairly underwhelming experience.

It’s not that there’s anything that’s outright wrong with Seven Psychopaths. It hums along quite nicely, the performers are engaged with the material, there’s some lovely pathos etc. etc. It just didn’t ever come together as a coherent film for me despite the fact that McDonagh is definitely tipping his hand to some interesting things.

Sam Rockwell is always a reason to go see a film.
The dog is just icing

Spieling out like an Elmore Leonard novel, Seven Psychopaths  is putatively the story of Marty (Farrell) a semi-successful semi-alcoholic screenwriter struggling with the first draft of his next script (also entitled Seven Psychopaths) who is drawn into friend Billy’s (Sam Rockwell) dog-kidnapping business with partner Hans (Christopher Walken).

Billy and Hans have recently bitten off more than they can chew having kidnapped local crime boss Charlie’s (Woody Harrelson) beloved pup, sending Charlie on a mission of revenge.

As Marty attempts to extricate himself from Charlie's assumption he's in on the whole deal, he is concurrently developing the list of the seven psychopaths he will use in his script, allowing Seven Psychopaths to divert into a number of shirt vignettes exploring each of their stories.

If this were a typical noir or crime film, it would probably be a tightly wound little potboiler with all the requisite twists and turns. But McDonagh is not trying for that at all. Instead the film is filled with space, between characters and between characters and their environments. It’s a genre plot in a non-genre film.

Abbie Cornish. Prominent on the poster,
scant in the film itself. Ditto all the women

Marty’s screenwriting allows the characters to talk about how film and genre work and its through this meta-commentary that we get a sense of what McDonagh’s trying for. Marty wants to explode the crime genre and make it transformative rather exploitative, for it to have the power to communicate raw human emotion.

That’s certainly present in Seven Psychopaths. Several of the psychopaths’ vignettes reveal that they are less psychotic than extraordinarily motivated by justice and revenge and Hans’ relationship with his cancer-stricken wife is deeply touching and there’s an attempt made for a destructive-meets-uplifting finale.

But, as Billy complains to Marty, you can’t make a film called Seven Psychopaths and not expect audiences to want to see the psychos. Maybe that’s a jab at dumb genre-driven audience members but, hey, I’m probably one of them and felt the same way.

Christopher Walken gives a delightful laconic
performance. But this is Christopher Walken, you knew
you were getting that going in.

The result for me was a film that had too much space in it; the characters drifted too far away from me and I couldn’t get a handle on them, couldn’t get to care about them. This was compounded for me by a deeply personal issue – I struggle to enjoy films set in LA that are about LA. I had the exact same problem with Get Shorty.

On walking out, I felt large chunks of the film were just cool for the sake of being cool, which I’ve since had time to reconsider but can’t quite wash the taste of from my mouth. The marketing campaign hasn’t helped.

All in all, I recognise that Seven Psychopaths is probably a very smart, engaging film. I’m just part of an audience that will understand that but never feel it.

Film #68 - Dredd

Ok, so lots of film to catch up on before After Dark starts, so let’s make this a quick one.

Dredd is an ultra-violent, blood –soaked, action thriller that is just smart enough to hold itself together for people who are fans of that genre. Everyone else might struggle a bit with the almost cartoonish violence but you can’t really say it didn’t do exactly what it said on the tin.

Playing out almost like a video game, Dredd is set in a dystopian future where much of the world has been destroyed and what is left is packed into huge incredibly dense mega-cities where law enforcement is practised by cops known as Judges because they are ‘judge, jury and executioner’ all in one.

Dredd takes place over the course of a single 24 hours where established Judge, Dredd (Karl Urban) is tasked with overseeing and evaluating the training of rookie Anderson (Olivia Thirlby) who is not technically qualified for the job but has been bumped up to a passing grade because of her unusual psychic prowess.

To comic fans everywhere's rejoice,
the helmet stays on all movie

Investigating what they expect to be a routine murder in 200-floor apartment block ‘Peach Trees’ , Anderson’s powers tip them off that this murder is linked to the sudden widespread distribution of the newest drug plaguing the city, Slo-Mo, which causes users to experience time moving in incredibly slow motion.

The kingpin behind Slo-Mo, Ma-Ma (Lena Headey) soon realises her empire is at risk and locks down Peach Trees before the judges can exit, forcing them to battle their way up all 200 (and their armed residents) before they can be let out and put an end to Slo-Mo’s spread.

What happens next is inventive in its violence and not for the faint of heart, playing out somewhere between Die Hard and The Raid in terms of sheer brutality.

Ma-Ma has reasons to want to be on top of the heap

As I say, it works if that’s the reason you came. Judge Dredd is, of course, a character from the long-running comic 2000 AD and his last film outing famously flopped due to Hollywood making too many changes to his core character and background.

This time around we’re on a much more loyal streak and fans of the comic can feel comfortable that, if there are a few liberties taken here and there, they’re at least being treated with respect.

Dredd is fairly true to his roots here being a dedicated (to the point of complete dispassion) law enforcer who doesn’t hesitate in his swift and direct response to crime. In many ways he’s a hard character to make your protagonist which is probably where we wrong in 1995’s Judge Dredd. This time round though, the audience has his constant sidekick Anderson to fill their role on the screen allowing Dredd himself to actually be Dredd.

Employee orientation is brutal in the future.

It’s a dynamic that works well, no less so than because Anderson as a character bucks the expectation that she will be a naïve damsel in distress. Although much more human in her approach, she also is efficient and ruthless when the moment calls for it.

Olivia Thirlby is really the actor who holds the film together in this regard, though Karl Urban as Dredd himself certainly fills the helmet well. Rounding out the top cast, Lena Headey is reliably malevolent as Ma Ma, though I did yearn for the more subtle evils of Cersei Lannister after this performance.

Exploding jaw? Tip of the iceberg.

One thing that didn’t quite gel for me though was the world itself, though this was a relatively minor problem. Although Dredd correctly realises that the Judge system is not a significant improvement on anarchy (the only even respond to about 6% of crime, we are told), and that the Judges themselves are essentially violent Fascists, the film underlines the resulting human misery so earnestly it doesn’t make sense. We’re told about 92% of residents of the 200 floor Peach Trees are unemployed, yet there are businesses clearly visible on most of the floors Dredd visits. Who is manning them? Who is buying Slo-Mo, if no one can afford it? It’s a minor thing but, when placed in the mise en scene, it drove me nuts all movie.

Still, for an action film I’d initially dismissed as a brain-dead waste of time, the charms of Dredd for genre fans are enough to overcome such small inconsistencies.

Film #67 - Laurence Anyways

From The Master to another feature that is all about substance but no so much about story we have Lauirence Anyways, the third feature from Quebec based enfant terrible Xavier Dolan.

I’ll be upfront about this; I’ve nearly insanely envious of the 23-year-old Dolan’s talent since his first feature I Killed My Mother came out when he was only 20. Three years later and he’s raised the bar yet again with Laurence Anyways, a sumptuous romance that is gorgeous to look at and fascinating to listen to.

To call Laurence Anyways a romance is little misleading, given that the central relationship is doomed, but given the central characters remain infatuated with each other even after they discover this, I really don’t know what else to call it.

Laurence (Melvil Poupaud) and Fred (Suzanne Clement) have been madly in love ever since they met and are happily ensconced in a bohemian bliss where he works as a writer and teacher, and she pursues a career in film. Their delirium is abruptly shattered by Laurence’s birthday declaration that he has realised that he is transsexual and intends to start transitioning into a woman.

II can only assume that top is the
height of women's fashion in Quebec

From there the story meanders over the next ten years of their off-again on-again relationship: from Fred’s initial break up and breakdown that her lover “hates everything she loves about him” to Laurence’s tentative first steps into womanhood to their mutual agony over their continued romantic feelings for one another.

It’s masterful work and Dolan takes pains to look at the subject of transsexuality from a wealth of different angles whilst standing back far enough to not get swept up into any overbearing messages on the topic. The two leads may be intensely in love, but the audience can see their flaws as well the characteristics that make them sympathetic.

Indeed, to the extent that Laurence Anyways has a message at all it’s that nothing is easy in a situation like this. As much as we sympathise with Laurence’s struggle to get the people he loves to accept his new identity, the way he goes about courting their support is frequently frustrating. As much as Fred is justified in not wanting to pursue a relationship she just can’t connect with anymore, her push and pull as she tries to extricate herself clearly cause her partner avoidable pain.

Yes, we even look at violence against transsexuals

It’s beautifully nuanced and is probably one of the most sympathetic depictions of transsexuality I’ve ever seen that doesn’t slip into sloppy sentimentality (I’m looking at you, Glee). Not being transsexual myself I can’t speak to how realistic it is but it certainly carries a verisimilitude that I don’t recall having seen before.

The complex three dimensional script is supported by lavish production design the is quasi-expressionistic in the way it the exterior world expresses the interior life of the characters. The use of autumn leaves in the final scene in particular is pitch perfect and Fred’s big breakout party scene is visually stunning even as it makes a major plot turn without even using words. Seeing Dolan’s name down as costume designer in the credits only deepens my envy of him.

This dress looks even better in the actual movie.

However, there is a problem with Laurence Anyways - and it’s a major one. At two hours and forty minutes, the film is simply far far too long and becomes exhausting by the time you round the 120 minute mark. Given that the story is less a coherent narrative and more a collection of vignettes, it’s a bit of an indulgence of Dolan’s that he could extract some of the more minor instances to make for a tighter, more pleasurable session.

All of that said, Laurence Anyways is a masterpiece and I’m glad to see Xavier Dolan is already filming his next big project.

Film #66 - The Master

If you’ve heard of The Master at all by this point, you’ve probably heard the word ‘Oscar’ somewhere in the same sentence. And for very good reason. However, before you lock it in for every award in the office sweep, I’d remain a bit sceptical about its chances in all but a few category.

A bit like Terrence Malick’s Tree of Life last year, Paul Thomas Anderson’s The Master is a bit of a challenge to the standard Hollywood feature. More of an exploration of a situation than an actual story it comes across as series of impressions, any of which might be valuable on their own but could be removed from the film without an audience member feeling the lacuna.

It feels to me that there’s been growing mainstream interest in these almost-European kinds of films over the last few years. Along with the rather undeserving The Artist’s Oscar sweep (despite being European, The Artist has a Golden Age Hollywood storyline) last year, it signals perhaps a growing frustration with the number of adaptations, remakes and sequels flooding the market at the moment.

Although of note in a changing Hollywood landscape, is the situation The Master is specifically interested in, which would have been unthinkable in a mainstream Hollywood movie even as recently as five years ago.

A rare moment of employment for Quell.
What happens next moment though...

As you’ll know by now, The Master is a somewhat loose allegory for the early days of Scientology as it follows two intensely charismatic men through the founding of a new religion in America. Anyone looking for a blow by blow history of Scientology here will be sorely disappointed but Anderson does cover of lot of thematic waterfront in The Master and not always in the unsympathetic manner you might expect.

To the extent we have a story at all, we follow Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) a volatile, intermittently violent young man whose trauma may stem from his experiences during the Second World War, or who may have been profoundly damaged well before then. Living a shiftless existence in the aftermath of the War, Quell’s life takes a dramatic turn when he wakes up to find himself on a boat belonging to Lancaster Dodd (Phillip Seymour Hoffman), a captivating presence who holds audiences in the palm of his hand and who his close confidantes refer exclusively to as The Master.

Doesn't look like he'd hurt a Xenu, does he?

Dodd inexplicably takes a shine to Quell, despite the latter’s obvious flaws and begins to introduce him to a system he either knows completely or is making up on the spot depending on what scene you’re watching that he calls The Cause. By the time they return to American waters, Quell is acting (and acting out) as Dodd’s right hand man as the followers of The Cause try to introduce their system to the rest of America and, later, the world.

The film’s narrative skips about a lot, pulling back to let time pass and the word of The Cause grow only to zoom back in at almost random moments to examine some new aspect of the dynamic between the two men and the growing popularity of Dodd and the friction Quell causes between him and his followers, particularly wife Peggy (Amy Adams).

Spoiler alert: the quasi-psychopathic Quell doesn't
always have the smoothest journey

It’s an oneiric sensation watching The Master. It occasionally threatens to solidify on a point only to then reaffirm that things are never that easy and show the opposite the very next moment. In one scene Quell is tearfully embracing the teachings of The Cause and finding himself transformed by it; in the next he may be destroying a prison cell in an extended fit of rage. Dodd veers from being a charismatic leader whose savoir faire commands the respect of all he comes across, to a frustrated writer whose barely contained anger could explode at any moment. There are no answers to be had here, just delicate balances, and though that bucks Hollywood’s insistence for resolution the wide open spaces of the film allow a measure of sympathy for all concerned.

I would definitely let Amy Adams fight my battles for me.

More than anything though, The Master is a master class (pun intended) on acting. Joaquin Phoenix will deservedly get the lion’s share of the praise here as the tortured Quell but Hoffman is also at the top of his game, making Dodd an engrossing figure even as we’ve been encouraged to disdain the man he is a fictional counterpart of.

Even Amy Adams, who I didn’t find as strong as some other reviewers brings a nice balance to the two as a woman who believes in Dodd even more than the Master himself. It wouldn’t surprise me if any or all of these didn’t pick up The Master’s few Oscars next year.

The Master is an occasionally challenging, if ultimately worthwhile film, but I recommend you go in with a clear mind and a wealth of patience.

The TIFF sessions 11-20

Ok, so I’m off to see Laurence Anyways tonight and still haven’t even finished up my TIFF reviews let alone got on to The Master. Officially behind so I’ll try and speed this up as best I can.

The Suicide Shop

This twee cartoon musical from Quebec centers around a town where suicide is not only legal but a viable industry. The central family, the Tuvaches, have maintained their store, which sells the means to oneself in, as the family business since 1854. But youngest child Alan is of a different disposition to the rest of his morbid family and fellow townsfolk and makes it his quest to share his optimistic world view with them all.

It's hard to recommend this one as family viewing given the central theme is suicide and some of the more outré musical numbers include young Alan and the neighbourhood children spying on his sister through a window as she dances naked for her own amusement. And yet the style of the film seems to be going after exactly that market with its clean simple animation, bubbly little songs and the frankly silly schemes developed by Alan in his efforts to cheer everyone the fuck up. I guess it’s going for nostalgia?

To be honest, it’s far too syrupy for me but I don’t think I’m the target audience here (though I’m clearly struggling to figure out who is) and there were certainly enough people in the audience satisfied by this confection.

Lunarcy

This documentary about people who are obsessed with the idea of colonising the moon is an odd duck in that it wants to have its cake and eat it too… and actually manages to almost pull it off.

As we’ve seen more and more in documentaries recently (or maybe I’m just seeing  more of them), the genre has opened itself up to playfulness and Lunarcy is never shy about pointing out its own absurdity or that of its subjects.

And yet, it has a sympathetic vein running through. It follows three main characters: a young man with Asperger’s syndrome who is convinced he will be the first permanent resident on the moon; a retiree whose favourite pastime is figure out what life on the moon would be like in every facet from real estate to architecture to art; and a middle-aged man who believe he owns the moon (because the UN never responded to his letter to say that he doesn’t) and runs a side business selling of acreage to interested punters.

In each case the film is careful to show both the extreme nature of their obsession but also to reveal the hidden sadnesses behind that obsession in a sympathetic light. These character are flawed but it’s hard not to feel some sympathy and wonder exactly who it is they are hurting with their passion.

Ultimately it finds inspiration in the young man with Aspergers, arguing that it is exactly his kind of ambition that got us to the moon in the first place and that kind of ambition that will be needed if we really are ever going to get back there.

The Brass Teapot

This indie film from America suffers from that frustrating feeling that one or two more drafts of the script could have turned it from something watchable but mediocre to something more solid and long lasting.

The plot of the film revolves around a young married couple (played by Michael Angarano and Juno Temple) living close to destitution when they come across a magical teapot that spits out cash whenever they cause pain in its presence. Soon the temptation of the teapot take them on a descent into darkness as they resort to more and more extreme measures to keep the cash flow going.

The film struggles a bit with knowing exactly what it is and what it wants to say and feels like it’s just on the the brink a point it never quite gets to. As a result it contains elements of several genres without settling on any one of them. It’s a black comedy, a crime caper, a perils of transformation story (seriously, every plot point from Can’t By Me Love is in here, just not with any context) but ends up merely a hodge podge of all.

It’s a shame really, because there’s a lot to like. The central performances are fairly engaging. Angarano seems to be having a lot of fun, and Temple navigates the balance the humour, steel and vulnerability that her complicated character requires. But, by contrast Alexis Bledel and Alia Shawkat are wasted in thankless roles that only work because they’re clichés of characters you’ve seen in other films.

All of that said, there is a vague charm and I hope that director Ramaa Mosley learns enough from her feature debut to deliver a stronger product with her next project .

The ABCs Of Death

Collaborative horror anthologies are always tricky to review given that the different creative teams working on each segment make it hard to summarize the film as a whole.

That’s greatly exacerbated in The ABCs of Death which features no less than 26 directors, one for each letter of the alphabet. Yes, the central conceit of ABCs is that there’s a multitude of ways to die and each has its own character. A is for Apocalypse, B is for Bigfoot etc. etc.

With 26 directors, even for a horror anthology this is a mixed bag and sadly, about half of them fall short of the mark. Some feel like a cop out for the genre (M is for Miscarriage is clever but not what we paid for); others so outlandish they don’t make sense (‘W’ and ‘Z’). In the midst though there are some shining lights with the truly bizarre ‘F’, the bloody and creative ‘X’ and the stop motion cartoonish violence of ‘T’).

But ultimately, there was just too much miss for too little hit for me to recommend.

Student

This Kazakhstani film by acclaimed director Darezhan Omirbayev starts out interestingly enough as it gently hints at underlying class struggle in the country but ultimately can’t sustain enough interest in its own narrative to take this through to anything meaningful.

A modern day update of Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment, Student loyally sticks to the main plot points of the classic novel but without Raskolnikov inner monologue to keep things going, unless you are familiar with the source material, you’d quickly get lost in the mysterious actions of Nurlan Bajtasov’s Student (Raskolnikov’s counterpart here) or what even is going on.

Bajtasov’s blank-faced performance does not help in any way as the Student seems to merely wander through the landscape of his crime without much real understanding of what he’s done. The crippling guilt of the on-paper Raskolnikov becomes merely the filmic Student’s sleeping in. The main character is consistently overshadowed by the rest of the cast (the Razumikhin stand-in especially) and, in a film where his emotional reaction to what he’s done is kind of the point, this leaves Student wandering lost.

Interestingly, they cut the Petrovich subplot from the film which would seem to be an attempt to make Student’s action motivated more by guilt than fear but this just doesn’t come across.

Skip it.

7 Boxes

This Paraguayan crime thriller came as a huge surprise to me but may be the best film I saw at TIFF this year.

Victor (Celso Franco) is a porter in the sprawling market of Asunción, hoping to make enough money from carting people’s purchases to buy a new mobile phone with a camera that’s just hit the market (the film being set in about 2007-2008). When rival porter Nelson is called away to tend to his newly-mothered wife, Victor is offered a job filling in his usual role and given the task to transport seven boxes throughout the market and keep them hidden from police in exchange for a big payday. Of course what the boxes contain is highly illegal and Victor finds himself pursued by police, gangsters and an increasingly violently infuriated Nelson seeking to seize the reward for himself.

The film progresses it descends into increasingly complex and tense situation as it becomes clearer what is in the boxes and why they hold the balance in the tense equilibrium of the local underworld. That Victor has no idea how much deeper he is in than he thought, the tension for the audience keeps ratcheting up until a devastating climax in the streets of Asunción.

The film picks up pace very quickly and rarely lets up for more than a few minutes at a time. Victor is a compelling central character, brash beyond belief and desperate to be more important than he is. However he is not without heart, which we see through the growing interest he shows in his sidekick/potential love interest Liz (Lali Gonzalez). Liz herself is a formidable opponent to Victor’s more chauvinistic tendencies and the interplay as the balance of power shifts back and forth between them is hugely entertaining.

Interestingly, though the film has clear villains, most often in the form of Nelson, there’s a sense that not a single one of them has control of the situation and the abject violence throughout the film is an expression of desperation rather than of evil. In Nelson’s case, his need to financially provide for his sick child is a helluva motivator, certainly trumping Victor’s cell phone (though it is established early that there’s a long term enmity between them).

The performances of the three leads are impeccable though Celso Franco is a definite discovery as his version of Victor has to balance a lot of dark and selfish stuff yet be consistently likeable and Franco has his hand very firmly on the wheel here.

An absolute delight, directed by Juan Carlos Maneglia and Tana Schembori.

Thale

A second great film in a row, this Norwegian effort has an ultra low budget but manages to look high-quality even with a supernatural theme.

Elvis (Erlend Nervold) has just started working with Leo (Jon Sigve Skard) in his cleaning business, mopping up homes after a death has occurred. Though he really doesn’t have the stomach for the bloodstains and the smell, Elvis desperately needs the money for reasons that become clear as the film progresses.

When the pair are dispatched to clean a cabin in the woods where the owner has just died, they are surprised to discover that the home they are expected to air out has a secret trapdoor in it leading to a dilapidated but well stocked laboratory. Deep within the lab, they stumble across what appears to be a wild woman who initially greets them with violence but seems to respond to certain cues. Through various recordings left in the lab, the pair come to believe that this woman, named Thale, may in fact be the huldra of Scandinavian lore and are their newfound relationship forces them to reconsider their relationship to the world around them and the limits of their own small lives.

Although the film keeps the truth from Elvis and Leo for quite a while, we’re tipped off early that Thale is exactly what the tapes say she is and that she has been the victim/beneficiary of a professor trying to understand huldra ways and bring her closer to human ways.

The action components of the film stay from here but become layered with a deeper narrative about the harm we do when we force creatures out of their natural environment and about how sometimes it’s better to allow wonders to remain wondrous by not examining them under a microscope.

It’s a fair simple message but it’s told in such a touching way that it never feels forced. Flashbacks of Thale’s time with her jailer/father figure keep us seesawing between whether this man truly cares for her or merely sees her as a specimen. Her tortured and loving response to both roles gives a character that never speaks a word a great emotional complexity.

It almost goes without saying to say that Silje Reinåmo as Thale does an amazing job with a difficult role balancing out the toughness and vulnerability that a wild captive creature must exhibit. However, neither Nervold and Skard disappoint; the former with wide-eyed fascination in Thale’s threat, the latter concealing a vulnerability that doesn’t emerge until much later in proceedings.

Well worth watching.

Sleeper’s Wake

Probably the nicest thing I have to say about this South African effort is that the scenery is quite pleasant to look at. Otherwise, well it never met a cliché it didn’t like and that makes Jack a dull boy indeed.

Sleeper’s Wake features John Wraith (Lionel Newton) recovering after a car accident that killed his wife and child (there’s a lot of that going around apparently). Retiring to a friend’s holiday house out in the countryside, he is drawn into the lives of his new next door neighbours – particularly into the sexually aggressive world of teen daughter Jackie (played by model Jay Anstey).

Of course, it soon becomes clear that Jackie is just as damaged as John is, and in a far more destructive way. Before John knows it, he’s pulled deep into a situation there doesn’t seem to be any easy way out of as Jackie’ mind games and manipulations take him far away from safety.

Yes, it sounds like The Crush, or Fatal Atttraction, or any number of the affair-turns-stalking genre. Because it is like all of them.

At least it has baboons as a plot device.

Imogene

A frothy indie comedy featuring Kirsten Wiig, Imogene is a lightly enjoyable yet not deeply memorable film that keeps the laughs coming but isn’t as thorough in the dramatic department as it might like to think.

Imogene (Wiig) is a formerly successful playwright whose happy ensconcement in the upper echelons of New York society come crashing down when she is dumped by her more successful boyfriend. Staging a suicide attempt in a dramatic bid to win him back, she is remanded to the care of her loopy mother Zelda (Annette Bening) back in the New Jersey that Imogene would rather not think about. Forced back to her roots and wallowing in despair, Imogene is naturally forced to reevaluate her life’s value as she entertains new possibilities, including hooking up with her mother’s sexy new boarder, Lee (Darren Criss).

The real joy in this film is the interplay between Wiig and Bening as two women with vastly different takes on life. Zelda can’t understand why Imogene is so uptight and blame her for the detour her life has taken; Imogene can’t cope with Zelda's lower-brow take on life and how she could absolve herself of so much responsibility for her upbrining. These two actors play perfectly off each and the fact that both viewpoints are equally understandable enables the film to have conflict without either character coming across unsympathetically.

Less interesting is the wealth of side characters that populate Zelda’s colourful world, including new lover Matt Dillon, son Larry (Nathan Corddry) and Larry's prospective girlfriend Allyson (a sorely underused Natasha Lyonne). You get a sense there’s a lot here just for the sake of being quirky rather than because it builds story in any way.

Likewise, I’m not sure if it’s the age difference between them but the putative relationship developing between Imogene and Lee feels a bit under-heated and his attempts to lead her into freeing herself from self-loathing threaten to be on the nose.

The Relcutant Fundamentalist

The most negative thing I can say about Mira Nair’s latest film is that it runs about thirty minutes too long and requires a great time investment from an audience.

Aside from that, The Relcutant Fundamentalist is an entirely enthralling and extremely important film that I worry won’t find much success in the Western world because of its subject matter.

Long story short, The Reluctant Fundamentalist uses the story of one man to try and point out how our extreme reactions to terrorism and the racism that comes with those reaction may actually push people who would be our allies to turn against us.

Bobby (Liev Schieber) is an embedded journalist who’s finally been granted an interview with the charismatic Changez (Riz Ahmed) an Islamabad-based Muslim leader who is suspected of having ties to recent terrorist activity.

As Bobby’s interview with Changez continues though, we flashback to a younger version of the character, an aspiring Pakistani stockbroker working in America and wholeheartedly embracing the American Dream. Admired by his boss (Kiefer Sutherland) for his business acumen and with a burgeoning relationship with artist Erica (Kate Hudson), Changez can’t imagine a better world. Then, September 11 happens, and Changez begins to learn how fragile all that happiness was.

Although Changez is certainly the victim of some rather offensive racism following the September 11 attacks (most particularly from law enforcement authorities), Nair is careful not to let the pendulum swing too far into self-righteousness. Changez's inability to talk about what he’s going through to the people around him also fuels his simmering anger. In particular, a scene where he and Erica fight over the racism he perceives in her art is a heartbreaking. I haven’t been a big fan of Hudson’s since 200 Cigarettes but the misery with which she tries to explain how she doesn’t understand his resentment goes a long way to underlining what may be the core message of the film. Hudson is utterly sympathetic, even as Ahmed is utterly justified.

Nair seems to be underlining how the problem the West has with Islam is less to do with what most Islamic people actually do and more our unwillingness, possibly even inability, to see beyond our own cultural context. In the framing context, Changez is as likeable as he ever was during the NY segments, albeit with greater gravitas and heightened understanding that Bobby will not understand his life or culture the way Changez himself does.

He’s a deeply charismatic figure as he talks to Bobby and the reporter increasingly struggles to reconcile the supposed truth of what he’s hearing with the CIA's speculation about Changez’s involvement in terrorism, leading to a rather tense climax where Bobby will have to make a decision about which of these versions of Changez he really believes in.

It gets messy.

The TIFF sessions 1-10

Ok, so there were a few too many films at TIFF too close together to review each individually in great detail. Here’s what you get instead.

Blancanieves

This Spanish film updates the well worn (especially this year) Snow White fairy tale to 1920s Spain in the world of matadors and bullfight but shown in the style of a silent film from the same era.

It’s a cute gimmick and extremely cheesy but the film inherits a bonhomie that makes you sort of forgive it for that even if the pace is considerably slowed. It doesn’t hurt that both of the leads female role are extremely charismatic though Maribel Verdu does more with her role than Macarena Garcia is allowed to do with hers.

It contains less of the edge and commentary than Snow White and the Huntsman did earlier this year but that was never really the point. At least it’s unafraid to throw off the story elements that don’t work for it; the closest you’ll get to a Prince Charming here is the implication that Snow White is romantically involved with one of the drawves.

The End

My second Maribel Verdu film in a row, though she plays a smaller role.

The End tells the story of a group of college friends reuniting for a weekend in a cabin in the woods only to find that upon trying to return to civilization the world has ended and humanity has literally vanished.

Thankfully this doesn’t turn into a thriller but instead uses the context to deepen our understanding on the relationship between the characters and the long term resentments and affections that 20 years of friendship have allowed to flourish. As the cast members themselves start to disappear without warning (though there is a clear theme to the timing) the evolving dynamics between the remainders keeps it from getting stale until a surprisingly low key finale.

The End, based on an acclaimed novel by David Monteagudo refuses to explain what’s going on or how this silent apocalypse works, so this will be frustrating for anyone expecting full closure. For me though, the somewhat open-ended nature of the narrative actually helped it along as the audience is just as lost as the characters.

This was one of the better films at TIFF for me this year.

No One Lives

The Midnight Madness showcase features some of the more over the top films of the festival and No One Lives is right up there with them. Ultimately though, I can’t really recommend this flick from cult director Ryuhei Kitamura.

Kitamura has always been a bit hit or miss with me and after surprising me with the at-least-competent Midnight Meat Train, No One Lives  is back to his outrageous-for-its-own-sake style that made Versus such a dull watch.

This story of a gang of rednecks who kidnap a wealthy couple only to find they’ve taken on board something even more lethal than they are could have been extremely fun. Unfortunately the writing kind of wavers in the no man’s land outside of ‘good’ but not quite reaching ‘so bad it’s good’.

Genre fans will probably love it though as there’s certainly no skimping on the violence or the ridiculous nature of some of the kills and the pace at least zips along very nicely. Unfortunately for me though, I was thrown out of the film too much by the absurdity of it to really enjoy it.

It does have Lindsey Shaw in it though, so that’s something at least.

I Declare War

This Canadian film is a cute idea, taking a child’s game of Capture The Flag and twisting it into a parable about the horrors of war as the kids indulge in more and more extreme behaviour to win their game.

PK (Gage Monroe) is a decorated general of several campaigns savouring his upcoming challenge against the formidable Quinn (Aiden Gouveia) whom he has never competed against before. But when Quinn’s leadership is usurped by Skinner (Michael Friend), things take a sinister turn as the long-standing tensions between the PK and Skinner threaten to bubble over into legitimate violence and Skinner increasingly gets closer to the edge of madness. As the boys face off, their individual troops get drawn further into battle and nearer to danger.

The film generally works and is fairly engaging but is let down a little by some of the performances from the child actors (I know you’re not allowed to say child actors suck but some of them do in this case) and a slight issue with tone that keeps it from fully landing. The film is careful not to go too far into the violence surrounding the children which makes it a bit less clear what exactly its trying to say about the horrors or war and the effect it has on the human spirit. It’s going for a banality of evil kick but seems to be afraid to enter territory where even much older material like Lord of the Flies stride confidently.

A minor nitpick too about the use of the cliché of the mute ‘ethnic’ participant who is the most efficient of them all and whose closest relationship is with his dog companion, but only a minor nitpick as this is the only one whose likeability is never in question.

Overall though, I Declare War is well worth its 94 minutes.

Painless

Yet another Spanish film for the year, though surprisingly absent of Maribel Verdu. Did I mention I quite like Maribel Verdu? I quite like Maribel Verdu.

Painless straddles two time zones. The first is in the present day as a gifted neurosurgeon crashes his car, killing his wife and child and whose medical care thereafter reveals a form of leukaemia he’d been unaware of sending him on a quest to find his birth parents. The second starts during the Spanish Civil War as locals become aware of a number of children who are incapable of feeling pain and promptly institutionalise them. We follow one boy’s journey over years as he is brutalised and abused and slowly turns into a vicious scarred thug. Naturally the two threads eventually converge and the relationship between them emerges. I won’t spoil it here but it doesn’t take much imagination to figure it out.

Perhaps it’s because of the Civil war setting but Painless  reminded me a bit of Pan’s Labyrinth (which did star Mairbel Verdu) in terms of theme and tone, though with less of Guillermo del Toro’s whimsy.

Certainly the sections set in the past are more effective but that’s really where the heart of the film wants to rest anyway. It’s a bit more successful than I Declare War in wading into the banality of evil question and the effect that the violence of war has on children but it has more scope to do that in as well.

This is on my list of recommended for this year’s TIFF

In the House

I was always going to like this film, as a fan of Francois Ozon, but this is a definite step up for the French auteur after last year’s Potiche, which I was a mite disappointed in.

Germain (Fabrice Luchini) is a French teacher growing increasingly jaded with his students’ sloppy essay attempts until he comes across a competent short story written by Claude (Ernst Umhauer) describing a visit to friend Rapha’s (Bastian Ughetto) home in disturbingly intimate tones. Intrigued, Germain encourages his charge to insinuate himself further into the house and reveal more of the voyeuristic secrets he uncovers. As Germain is drawn further and further in by Claude’s stories, his own wife Jeanne (Kristin Scott Thomas) is drawn in and things start to spin out of control.

The film is a rare example of a genuine dark comedy (as opposed to a comedy about dark things) and Ozon balances the humour of Germain’s increasingly divorce from reality and the subtle darkness of Claude’s increasingly obvious manipulations. For a director who’s shown himself to be fond of farce in the past, Ozon is surprisingly restrained here and this lighter touch allows to tight little plot to comes to a boil without spilling over.

The Lords of Salem

Rob Zombie is an odd director for me. Sometimes I love his stuff, sometimes I hate it. I thought his House of A Thousand Corpses was absurdly fun and his take on the Halloween franchise fleshed out the series very nicely but was bored beyond belief during The Devil’s Rejects.

Unfortunately, The Lords of Salem is definitely in the latter camp.

Radio host Heidi (Sheri Moon-Zombie) receives a strange vinyl record in some fan mail of an act calling themselves The Lords of Salem. Upon playing it, she becomes increasingly haunted by shocking apparitions that have something to do with the witches’ coven lynched centuries ago.

To be fair to Zombie, he knows what he’s doing with the material and I believe the film does represent what he wanted to achieve. The problem is that it’s just so self-indulgent that I just don’t care. I can objectively recognise that Zombie is layering on the scares successfully but because none of the characters involved are remotely likeable I kind of want Heidi to succumb to dark forces just so we can all go to bed.

There is an audience for this, and they were out in force during the Midnight Madness session this screened at, so it’s more of a question of whether you’re one of the specific people Rob Zombie is trying to get to (hint: if you’re at all like Rob Zombie) as to whether you’ll enjoy this or not.

Three Sisters

This two and a half hour long documentary about three sisters living in regional China is excruciatingly boring and a Herculean task to sit through.

Maybe I’m not cultured enough for this stuff but I loathed every minute. Especially during the second ten extended sequence of a girl eating a potato. Worst of TIFF by a long way.

Sightseers

Surprisingly this wasn’t a Midnight Madness screening,. It was part of Vanguard – so effectively Midnight Madness but not at midnight.

I walked into Sightseers expecting something more along the lines of No One Lives or, probably even more, Eden Lake. Totally wrong.

Directed by Ben Wheatley, of last year’s Kill List fame, Sightseers is a hilariously funny comedy about a young woman whose new boyfriend wants to take get out from under her mother’s thumb and take her on a caravanning holiday. Along the way, Tina has the growing realisation that her beau may in fact just be a serial killer prone to violently disposing of anyone who contradicts his strict social mores. Rather than be turned off by the idea though, she starts to see the possibilities of such a style and soon is surpassing him in his bloodlust.

Yes, it’s a violent film but still a comedy as both leads beautifully portray the kind of social awkwardness made popular by The Office where they are both so backwards it becomes excruciating to watch and yet simultaneously hilarious in how brazen they are in their provinciality.

I do have slight concerns that this sort of thing runs the risk of coming across as sneering at the lower classes but there’s something oddly likeable about Tina that makes you root for her even as she expresses delight at the idea of visiting a pencil museum or serving ‘gourmet’ spaghetti and sauce for every meal. Combine that with the illicit thrill of watching people being violently dispatched for doing all those little things that irritate you in your daily life and you have an enjoyable couple of hours ahead of you.

Aftershock

Back to Midnight Madness and the screening of Eli Roth’s new film which was not actually directed by Eli Roth yet is such an Eli Roth film through and through you’ll forget that he only co-wrote, co-produced and stars in it. The actual director was Nicolas Lopez who came across in his introduction as being fairly close to Roth in demeanour though without the handsomeness.

I swear to God I’ll never know why but I have an odd affection for Eli Roth. I roll my eyes at his hyper-frat boy hijinks and accidental misogyny but there’s something so earnest about his efforts that I end up rooting for him anyway. Yes, he’s completely over the top but he truly loves what he does and seem to pour all that into his work. Where Tarantino has a more studied hand with genre material, Roth just throws everything at the wall and assumes it will stick.

And for what it’s worth Aftershock is a sign that he’s getting better as a filmmaker even if he’s not there yet. Aftershock, which tells the story of some tourists who must get to safety and high ground in Valparaiso, Chile, after a major earthquake creates major carnage, is still the gratuitously blood soaked material we’ve come to expect but at least it wasn’t as dull as Hostel 2.

It’s also slightly kinder on the ladies this time round, if only slightly. They at least now have some degree of agency and there are even points in the film where it’s a woman’s action that drives the story forward as the men are foundering.

There is still a considerable amount of sloppiness here though. The film’s three acts are very distinct from each other and the first act, which is almost nothing but frat behaviour goes on far too long. Things improve dramatically for the second act as the earthquake hits and the seriousness of their situation sets in but then falls apart for the third act after something happens that breaks pretty much all the rules of scriptwriting, leaving the last thirty minutes without an anchor.

Also, that’s not how tsunamis work.