VIFF Day 9













Amal (2007, Canada, Richie Mehta)


Stories and films set in India have an immediate appeal to me. The vibrancy of the culture, an unlikely melange of just about all of the world's great faiths and peoples, and the palpable sense that this is a world consistently on the edge of chaotic dissolution, yet always able to pull itself back from the abyss, creates a universe that has within it implicit tensions between order and anarchy, faith and reason, sensuality and metaphysicism that fascinates me.

All of which is to confess that I was already predisposed to like Richie Mehta's Amal before I settled into the seat. Imagine my disappointment if Amal had not delivered the goods.

Thankfully, Amal is a warm but not not soft-hearted film, with some terrific performances in Mehta's finely observed character study. At the centre of this story of the titular auto-rickshaw driver, a humble and kind man unsuspectingly at the centre of a storm over a wealthy man's inheritance is the work of Rupinder Nagra, who gives an authetic and self-contained performance. Nagra holds the film together with his understated work as the quietly ethical man makes key decisions during some of the plots more creaky devices and unexpected twists.

Mehta's script, co-written with his brother Shaun, is a richly detailed piece that evokes the sensual and cultural detail of its Delhi setting in an earthy and realistic manner. Contributing to this sense of authenticity is some gritty cinematography of Mitchell Ness which is decidedly not of the picture postcard variety. The film is populated by a complex tapestry of characters from an array of social classes, while the city-based shots brim with vigor. Finally, it is nice to see Mehta trusts his audience enough not to spell out every aspect of the plot, eliding some important plot points, allowing the audience to figure them out on their own.

The film's final act does work awfully hard to bring its disparate elements together in a plausible way, and at times all the effort shows as characters behave as they must to keep the story moving forward, rather than as they should to be true to themselves. Still, it is a minor nit to pick because overall Amal is a charming and affecting film that refuses to take the easy way out. As a result, the final shots of a smiling Amal are bittersweet, but completely satisfying.

VIFF Days 6 and 7

Just a couple of quickies today as I head out the door for more.

The Class (2007, Estonia, Ilmar Raag)

A really darkly disturbing drama out of Estonia much in the same vein as Gus Van Sant's Elephant, The Class is likewise purportedly based upon actual stories culled from students in the Estonian school system. And if so, Estonia has some serious work to do, because The Class left me punished and battered, bruised and huddled in a corner.

The problem is, The Class does not shine a light upon the problem of bullying in the school system so much as it rubs our faces in the gleeful cruelty of teenagers. Little attempt, hell, pretty much none at all, is made to establish some socio-economic or psychological context for all of the bullies' behaviours; it is merely accepted as standard teenage behaviour, and innate and unalterable urge to exclude and ridicule. As such, the victims debasement is then cast in the light of some sort of tragic inevitability, as the result as some essential flaw in the human character that is not worth knowing because it is unknowable and unalterable. So, despite all the brave performances here, particularly by the young victims Joosper (Pärt Uusbergand is particularly impressive) and Kaspar (Vallo Kirs), since we are presented only with a cartoon version of evil, we cannot really get invested in the story enough to feel that we have been asked to examine or question anything essential about humanity.

It is just a little ironic that in a story about the effects that bullying has upon its victims that I should leave the film feeling totally bullied myself.

Hank and Mike (2007, Canada, Matthiew Klinck)

The Odd Couple meets Donnie Darko. Okay, not really, the only element of DD that resides inside the goofy slapstick silliness that is Hank and Mike is that both films feature dudes in bunny suits. At least in Hank and Mike you KNOW that the intended effect is comic.

Hank and Mike play Easter bunnies who've just been downsized and must figure out how to continue to live in the lifestyle to which they've grown accustomed. And since that lifestyle is already pretty close to the bone, it is hardly surprising that the lads soon find themselves at the end of their fiscal rope, which is when desperation and hilarity ensue.

Hilarity might be a bit of an oversell, but the film is pretty funny in an absurd kind of way. The notion that an entire corporation could be built around a "second tier" holiday like Easter is pretty amusing, as are the lengths to which the suits will go to continue to punch up their bottom line, but the film rises and falls on the amusement factor of our two leads, two lovable losers from opposite ends of the personality scale who somehow manage to overlook their many differences to embrace their common fate. Sometimes the gags are great, othertimes lame, but there are enough of them, and the two leads consistently entertaining even in the lulls, that we are able to embrace the film's many rises and falls of comic fortune.

Day Five VIFF














The Tracey Fragments (2007, Canada, Bruce MacDonald)

I will admit to a certain grudging respect for some of the technical aspects of The Tracey Fragments, as director Bruce MacDonald's multifoliate split screen approach, reminiscent of Mike Figgis's Time Code, and the bundles of cameras he uses to film a single scene, borrowing the approach of Lar Von Trier in his anti-Dogme Dancer in the Dark, seems to be at loosely inspired by the themes of the story in question. Further, some of MacDonald's compositions within compositions are visually arresting, and the mosaic of imagery is at times aesthetically quite pleasing, reminiscent of a work of stained glass. More importantly, you can make the argument that MacDonald's use of multiple split scenes throughout the vast majority of this film's running time is defensible in that the title character is in dissolution, shattered by her dysfunctional family life, her role in the disappearance of her younger brother, the grotesque bullying she receives at school and the delusional relationship she has with the kid in school. Just as Tracey disintegrates into fragments, so too does the screen.

Yeah, yeah I get it. Unfortunately, the story and characters do not prove quite engaging or substantial enough to hold the stylistically distracting story together. Even Ellen Page, who is quite a compelling and dynamic performer, cannot pull us through this story with her. And the split screen, which might have a thematic applicability, undermines the narrative's ability to maintain our interest, as it constantly pulls us out of the story and reminds us that this is more of an exercise in stylistic excess than a tale worth telling. In fact, the few times that MacDonald stopped messing with all the jazzy split screen it was positively refreshing. Those scenes stood out in much the same way that the few seconds of motion in La Jetee burn themselves in the minds of any viewer of Marker's great film. The difference is La Jetee is positively riveting through its entire running time, whereas MacDonald's film only seems endurable when he stops playing his film school games.

Day Two/Three VIFF













Adam's Apples (2005, Denmark, Anders Thomas Jensen)

Along with Beauty in Trouble, this is the treat of the festival so far, a tar-pitched comedy about the reformation of a Neo-Nazi, played with suitable menace by the bald-pated Ulrich Thomson, who as part of his community service is released into the custody of a relentlessly optimistic preacher named Ivan (Mads Mikkelson) in a small and remote Danish town.

What begins as a fairly predictable renovation project becomes something considerably meaner, as Adam takes it upon himself to break the preacher's Christian viewpoint by any means possible, including some rather severe beat downs.

Ivan refuses to bow or break, turning all forms of opposition in on themselves by simply refusing to believe they exist. Ivan's delusional cheerfulness only further enrages Adam, who finds unlikely alliances in the preacher's other charges, Khalid, an Afghan thief who dreams alternatively of committing acts of terror and getting back home, and Gunnar, an obese sex offender and compulsive thief. This unholy trinity of reprobates prove to be a marvellous comic concoction, while Ivan's resolute refusal to accept anything but the most cheerily Christian of outlooks creates a seemingly endless succession of endlessly entertaining conflicts.

The performances are spot-on, as all play this darkly funny material as if they are in a deadly serious Shakespearean drama, highlighting the situation's absurdities and asking us to consider how much our reality is shaped by our preconceptions, beliefs and, yes, faith. Adam's Apples is a real treat, a delicious concoction of Danish wit and wisdom that was penned and directed by the author of the likewise wise and hilarious Wilbur Wants to Kill Himself, Anders Thomas Jensen. If Jensen keeps this up, he just might find himself tagged as the Danish Kaurismaki.










Intervention (USA, 2007, Mary McGuckian)

Well, it had to happen eventually. I found a film that not only grated on me, that not only irritated me, but that I also actively disliked. Every festival has these moments, no matter how hard you study this in advance, and try to make sure you are seeing the pick of the litter, things fall through the cracks. The centre (of my attention, at least) cannot hold, and all hell is loosed upon the world.

The film tells the tale of a handful of addicts in recovery (and their loved ones who come to visit) at a rehab clinic in the New Mexico desert. It is also the story of the married therapists, played by one of my favourite actors, Colm Feore, and one of my least, Andi Macdowell, whose marriage seems to be unraveling as quickly as the nerves of their agitated patients.

And while the film has certain cinematic qualities that help to distinguish it from garden variety movie of the week type tripe, including a washed out and bloodless colour palette that matches the setting well, and some cleverly designed camera flourishes, the style of the film never really builds into a comment upon or an enhancement of the film's substance, because ultimately there is very little there there. The film has a hollow core, which might explain why it so quickly falls in upon itself.

It does not help that the central couple (other than the therapists) are self-involved, narcissistic, emotionally stunted fools, or that Jennifer Tilly is called upon, as one half of that couple (Rupert Graves is the other), to attempt to act--never a good option if you want to have a credibly dramatic film. It also does not help that the film attempts to parallel the collapse of this couple's marriage with the disintegration of the marriage of the therapists. While we are given all sorts of details about the patient's failures, the film devots very little screen time to and invests very little emotional energy in the therapist's marital woes, so it is hard to feel terribly moved one way or another by its passing. The film just limps along to its lame and unconvinging conclusion, one emotional climax after another falling flatter than a New Mexican vista.

Okay, so I exaggerate, but I do so for effect. Specifically, I do so to cleanse my bile ducts, and to warn any of you out there, dear audience, not to make the same mistake as yours truly. Save yourself the trouble, and don't intervene; Intervention is a lost cause.











Cowardice (Canada, 2007, Marc Gisaillon)

Cowardice is a film that fails for several reasons. It is unable to engage as either fish (film noir) or foul (murder mystery). It offers very little in the way of cultural insight despite using the milieu of Quebec's Quiet Revolution in the early 1960s as backdrop.

The film is purportedly based upon actual events, namely the 1962 disappearance of a 15 year old girl in rural Quebec, and the subsequent police investigation. Among the primary suspects in the film's protagonist, Conrad, a gravedigger whose marital dissatisfaction makes him an easy target for seduction. Once seduced, Conrad is easily lead into a disastrous kidnapping plot, and his life quickly spirals out of control from there.

Conrad's meekness and subservience in most matters is intended, it appears, to be a commentary upon the position taken by Quebec's old guard towards the role of La Belle Province within the Canadian confederation, while the more assertive, violent and destructive approach taken by his fellow conspirators is meant to reflect the arrival of a new presence in Quebec, at once exciting and extremely dangerous.

Unfortunately Cowardice does not really do much with this political allegory, choosing instead to fall back on the tropes of the film noir and murder mystery genres, unable to convincingly deliver on either of these fronts. It doesn't help that the lead actor has basically two expressions, morose and confused, and that none of the characters proves to be worthy of our concern by the time the film arives at its inevitably violent conclusion. Finally, while the cat and mouse game played by the detective as he tries to break through Conrad's implacable facade is meant to make us think of the similar approach taken in Crime and Punishment, the comparison proves a large part of the film's undoing, for Conrad is no Raskelnikov and Gisaillon is no Dostoyevsky.

Victoria Film Festival 2008 Edition:

Day One

Bab 'Aziz (2005, Tunisia, Nacer Khemir)

Bab 'Aziz is a road picture that starts strongly, begins to drift in the Tunisian sands through a substantial portion of its middle section and threatens to lose its way as well as its audience, only to pull it back together in the final moments of the closing act. Regardless of its narrative hiccups, the film is never anything less than interesting to look at (forget the terrific cinematography, if all women in Tunisia are this beautiful, I see a road trip of my own in the near future.) Indeed, the film is rife with memorable imagery, from its stunning opening shots to the wonderful concluding passages, unearthly desert scapes are matched by memorable shots of the country's architecture. Accompanying this is a soundtrack that never fails to energize, something that is particularly helpful during the story's occasional lapses in pace.



Bab 'Aziz is reminiscent in some ways of David Lynch's own road epic, The Straight Story, in that both boast an ancient patriarch on a personal quest, whose moral authority is without question. Both characters move slowly through the countryside listening to the tales and woes of those they meet, and both men are prone to offering advice in the form of Buddha-like aphorisms. In Bab 'Aziz, this formula is a little problematic when the tales being told become increasingly less interesting than the characters of Bab 'Aziz and his granddaughter, and we begin to yearn for them to end so we can return to their world. Regardless, director Nacer Khemir's sense of humour and retrainted romanticism, along with the Richard Farnsworth-y performance of Parviz Shahinkhou in the title role, ultimately carry the day, resulting in a film that, while flawed, proves a journey worth taking.

The Mosquito Problem and Other Stories (2007, Bulgaria, Andrey Paounov)

First off, give director Pauonov and his acting troop full credit with Mosquito Problems. If I hadn't known better, I would have completely believed anyone who told me that this was a real documentary about an actual Bulgarian town living in the twin shadows of an unfinished nuclear power plant and a 1950's era communist-run concentration camp. The actors playing the citizenry of this fictional berg are so completely convincing, as stiff and unnatural in front of the camera as most of us would be in such a situation, and the situations played out so naturalistically, with a conscientious minimum of staging, that the film is as realistic a mockumentary on the purely technical level as any I have seen. It certainly blows the much more obviously staged works of Christopher Guest out of the water. For one thing, Guest uses recognizable actors in his films, who are always completely at ease with the camera; indeed, their self-awareness is often part of the joke, as Guest is satirizing our media awareness/manipulation and thirst for fame (however small) as much as anything else.


Unfortunately, the film is unable to build on this solid technical premise. When at its best, Paounov's film, which really tests the old saw that comedy is just tragedy plus time, has a really trenchant and biting humour, a sort of mordant Eastern European wit, that he uses to skewer the delusionally optimistic citizens of this small Bulgarian town. However, as the film progresses, it devolves into a series of unfocused and unfunny scenes that fail to engage, enlighten, and most importantly, amuse. When the film takes a final turn towards the dramatic, the tone of the film is shattered, and the effect is distracting. However, that said, the final scenes of the children playing in a cloud of insecticide are about as darkly humourous as it gets, and almost redeems the many parts of the picture that just don't quite work.

Remember, I said ALMOST.




Beauty in Trouble (2006, Czech Republic, Jan Hrebejk)









Now this film is the reel deal. While I have not seen director Jan Hrebejk's preceding film, How I Spent the End of the World, it has been lavished in critical praise, and after seeing Beauty in Trouble, it isn't hard to see why. Hrebejk is a humanist of the first order, whose confident filmaking is a constant joy to behold. Not only that, but he fills his intelligent story with characters so full of shading and nuance, so real and so heartbreakingly flawed, that it is impossible not to hang on every word, soak up every image, and cling to every scene.

The story is deceptively simple, yet slyly sophisticated and wonderfully unpredictable. After floods devastate Prague, the family of the strikingly beautiful Marcela (Anna Geislerová) and the rather brutish Jarda, who have no insurance to cover the damages, find themselves in dire economic straits. This leads mechanic Jarda into the illicit stolen car trade, which drives Marcela and their two children out of the house and into a very overcrowded apartment with her mother and Risa, her snide and petty second husband. When Jarda gets thrown in jail, Marcela is convinced to divorce him, and by happenstance, ends up in a relationship with the man whose car Jarda had stolen. When Jarda, for whom Marcela clearly has some feelings (even if most of them are between her legs. Simply put, they have great sex) is finally released from prison, the story enters a third act that manages to balance the audience's attention and concern for every one of these characters. It leaves you hoping, fearing, wondering and guessing throughout.

What Hrebejk and his frequent collaborator and writer Petr Jarchovský have accomplished here cannot be underestimated. This is a character piece that gives you not one or two characters worth investing in, but eight or nine, and manages in its 110 minute running time to give each enough nuance and depth of character to get us completely invested in their fates. Furthermore, Hrebejk and Jarchovsky give us a social context within to place these characters, and which is important to our understanding of the decisions each makes. When the working class Marcela decides to run off with the much older, debonair and very wealthy ex-patriot Evzen Benes (Josef Abrhám), you can see that she is doing this to escape from her old life as much as she is doing it out of affection for Benes. And the earthy, sexual connection she feels for Jarda provides a constant tug, drawing her back to the familiar, the comfortable, and their elementally sensual life.

Beauty in Trouble is the sort of film that sits with you days after viewing. These are characters we grow to recognize and adore, not despite their flaws, but because of them. Lastly, the film provides one of those delightful moments that you always yearn for when you go to the movies, and that is simply this: when the lights come up at film's end, you're disappointed that you will have to leave this world and its many wonderful people behind.

My Favourite Films of 2007

It was a strange year of film going for me, due largely to some rather daunting issues on the private life front which I have no interest in divulging at this time, but which stole a big chunk out of my life from September until mid-December. Which is to say, I had to use these last couple of weeks of the year to play some Big League Catch-Up, and though I have given it the good ol' college try, I have come up a little bit short. Some films that have ranked highly in other's lists that I have yet to catch up with include There Will Be Blood (still hasn't opened here), Persepolis, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (though I will be seeing this on the weekend), and The Assassination of Jesse James etc.

So, with that caveat, here are my favourite flicks of the past twelve months.

Honorable Mentions: Manufactured Landscapes, Killer of Sheep, Michael Clayton (with a different ending, easily in the top ten), Kim ki-Duk's Time, Gone Baby Gone, Bourne Ultimatum, The Host, Hot Fuzz, Superbad, Sicko, No Country for Old Men, and Knocked Up.








10. Sweeney Todd etc. (USA, 2007, Tim Burton)

The subject matter plays right into Burton's wheelhouse, and he damned near knocks it outta the part. Too bad that none of the leads can really sing much, but Johnny Depp's affinity for this sort of admirable maniac carries us past this particular shortcoming on many an occasion.






9. Zodiac (USA, 2007, David Fincher)

David Fincher's film is the sort of mournful elegy that seldom gets this kind of money and talent thrown its way. As usual, Fincher is right at home exposing the obsessive and fragile egos of the modern male to the harsh light of day, but continues to seem a little out of his element when dealing with anything feminine. Downey Jr. is particularly affecting as a newspaperman's version of, well, himself.








8. 28 Weeks Later (UK/Spain, 2007, Juan Carlos Fresnadillo)

Boy, did this film ever take an undeserved critical pummeling. In this time of rapidly dissolving faith in the war in Iraq, you might think that a few more openly critical and questioning films might have been made about the disintegration of the American mission. In true zombie spirit, it was great to see young director Juan Carlos Fresnadillo (Intacto) tackle such pricklish and topical matters head on. As allegorical horror films go, it didn't get any better than 28 Weeks Later in 2007.












7. Grindhouse (USA, 2007, Tarantino/Rodriguez)

While Tarantino's half of the twin bill (Death Proof) was clearly the superior cinematic experience, that is not to slight Rodiguez's Planet Terror, which was an amusing and grisly distraction (Tarantino's cameo notwithstanding). The films are best experienced in their original form, for divorced from all the b-movie trailers and each other, the films lose some of their original perversity and pleasure.








6. The Lives of Others (Germany, 2007, Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck)

Yes, yes, I know, it was technically a 2006 release, but it never came anywhere near my berg until well in 2007, so onto this year's list it will go. A riveting character study, and deserving Oscar winner, the film's study of the machinations of paranoia, both within the state and within each individual, was unforgettabe. Ulrich Mühe gave one of the year's best performances.









5. Away from Her (Canada, 2007, Sarah Polley)

A beautiful adaptation of a very moving Alice Munro story, this touching study of two flawed but loving people, married for 44 years, struggling to deal with the effects of dementia was as tender and touching a love story as any brought to screen in the past year. Julie Christie has gotten all the accolades for her performance, but don't forget the great Gordon Pinsent, who has the less flashy role of the man left behind. Also, as directorial debuts go, none was more promising this year than this of Ms. Polley. A quiet but intense film, directed with masterful care.








4. Once (UK, 2007, Jim Carney)

Like Richard Linklater's Before Sunrise/Sunset, this is essentially a two-person drama, only instead of the couple connecting via conversation, they do so over music. And is there a more romantic medium than music? I don't think so. Glen Hansard's songs are integral to the film's success, as is the breakthrough performance of Marketa Irglova. It would take a hard heart not to be moved by this film.









3. Control (UK, 2007, Anton Corbijn)

This one snuck up on me, largely because I know very little about the video work of director Corbijn, or the acting chops of Sam Riley, who plays the pivotal role of Ian Curtis, lead singer of the seminal post-punk band Joy Division. Turns out, Corbijn knows a thing or two about cinematic storytelling, and Riley is a stone cold killer of an actor. I also really enjoyed many elements of the Dylan bio-pic I'm Not There, but while there's no denying that Dylan is the much more important artist, it turns out that Curtis had the more interesting story to be told. At least for this year.









2. Ratatouille (USA, 2007, Brad Bird)

So, really, there's nothing more to be said about this than this: Brad Bird--Iron Giant, The Incredibles--is a freaking genius who can, to this point anyways, do no wrong.










1. Into the Wild (USA, 2007, Sean Penn)

Into the Wild was my favourite film of 2007. The movie is a touching and honest tribute to one questing vagabond, to this beautiful if ill-prepared and starry-eyed pilgrim soul, part Thoreau, part Kerouac, and Penn does a commendable job of capturing, honouring and questioning McCandless's journey.

Having already read Krakauer's book, I knew exactly what was coming, yet Penn (and Hirsch) made every moment a revelation nonetheless. I can think of no higher compliment than to point out that while I always knew what was coming, this did nothing to lessen the film's impact; by the end, I was completely devastated.

The Golden Compass (UK, 2007, Chris Weitz)



Egads, what happened here? Great source material (Pullman novel), some pretty good actors (Craig, Kidman, McKellan), and an apparently capable director (Chris Weitz, About a Boy) and yet, when you put it all together, what do you get? Tripe. Paint by numbers tripe. It looks all right from a distance, but when you cosy up to it, you can see where all the colours separate, and the illusion dissolves. The Golden Compass bears the brush strokes of a film produced by a committee of people intent on trying to make some money rather than a good movie. It looks like they got neither.

The story, which takes place in an alternate or parallel universe, involves a clever but saucy young girl named Lyra Belacqua (newcomer Dakota Blue Richards) who, while roaming the hallways and grounds of a Jordan College with her good friend Roger, learns of a plot by the sinister Catholic church-like Magisterium to silence her uncle, Lord Asriel (Daniel Craig) whose discovery of a magical particle called Dust opens up the possibility of connecting us with an infinity of parallel universes. The concept is anathema to the Magisterium, they pronounce it heretical, and launch a surrpetitious search and destroy mission on Asriel as he explores the Arctic for more information about this Dust. Lyra, while seeking to protect her uncle, must also contend with the fact that Gobblers, who are stealing poor and often orphaned children, have stolen her closet friend Roger. After she escapes the evil clutches of her ward Mrs. Coulter (Nicole Kidman), and with the help of a particularly ferocious ice bear (voiced by Sir Ian McKellan) witches and Gyptians, and Lyra launches a search of her own, to retrieve her pal Roger and to warn her uncle Asriel of impending dangers.

So what went wrong? The set designs are cool, the actors are, as a whole, attractive, intelligent and capable, and the story clips along at a good pace. Yet, it does not engage; the centre does not hold. It seems that director Chris Weitz, who displayed a nice, light touch in About a Boy, is adrift with the fantastical and epic nature of this story. The film certainly fires along briskly, hitting all the key plot points and introducing all the necessary supporting characters, but in such efficiency may lie the rub. The film gives little time over to developing atmosphere and exploring the mythic themes, or to allowing us the luxury of really getting to know these characters and the significance of their relationships. In a film that is so clearly trying to borrow the formulas of the very sucessful Harry Potter series as well as the mythic clout of The Lord of the Rings trilogy, it is interesting that the producers have hedged their bets by bringing the film in at under two hours running time. Without having the extra time to devote to character, atmosphere and mythic themes that these far more successful films have generally been allowed, The Golden Compass comes off as a scattershot affair, telling the story well enough, but not immersing us into the world deeply enough to believe in it or its characters. Hence, we care far less about how things will turn out than we should.

It is unclear at this point if the rest of the series will be made, as the movie has not had the sort of boffo box office necessary to induce a sequel. And while I'd like to see Pullman's books up on the big screen, I have to think that if The Golden Compass is deemed a failure by the money men in their fancy suits, it could ultimately be a good thing. Perhaps next time (assuming there is one) they will allow the work's heart and soul to shine through, because as it is, The Golden Compass lacks the human touch. It feels like a film put together by committee, and the lines between the colours show, often badly.