Downloaded

Downloaded (Director: Alex Winter): This insightful film, which made its inter­na­tional premiere at Hot Docs, looks at the rise, fall, and legacy of Napster, the peer-to-peer file sharing ser­vice that forever changed the music industry. Originally con­ceived as a dra­matic fea­ture by dir­ector Alex Winter (prob­ably best known as the Bill char­acter from the Bill & Ted movies), it evolved into a doc­u­mentary over the ten year period that Winter was involved on and off with the project.

Winter thor­oughly explores all aspects of his sub­ject, incor­por­ating an extensive number of archival clips with new inter­views from Napster oppon­ents which include music industry exec­ut­ives and artists like Beastie Boy Mike D, Henry Rollins, and Public Enemy’s Chuck D, along with the Napster side via inter­views with the service’s legal rep­res­ent­at­ives and the main fig­ures behind it, not­ably co-founders Shawn Fanning and Sean Parker. The affable pair evoke more sym­pathy than you’d expect, dis­cussing the ideal­istic ori­gins of the ser­vice that “came from a very pure place,” as Fanning puts it, and them coping with the enormous scope of what they’d cre­ated, which included con­tending with numerous nasty legal battles with the music busi­ness over their enabling of wide-scale copy­right infringe­ment. It’s easy to forget over a decade later that Napster’s impact was incred­ibly swift — the service’s “heyday” lasted less than two years before it was effect­ively shut down in 2001, later being acquired by other com­panies as a means of legal music distribution.

Downloaded presents the most bal­anced and defin­itive sum­ma­tion of the Napster saga that I’ve ever seen or read, with a com­pel­ling David vs. Goliath dynamic and an abund­ance of thoughtful dis­cus­sion on the divisive issue of file sharing.

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Alias

Alias (Director: Michelle Latimer): Actor, pro­ducer, writer, dir­ector and former Hot Docs pro­grammer Michelle Latimer unveiled her first feature-length doc­u­mentary at Hot Docs 2013 on Friday, a por­trait of Torontonian rap artists and pro­du­cers, entitled Alias.

The film is a labour of love, four years in the making, an intimate look at the lives and careers of Alkatraz, Alias Donmillion, Trench, Keon Love and Master Knia. If some of these names aren’t familiar to you, Torontonians might know Alias Donmillion through his high-profile arrest and con­vic­tion, stem­ming from an incident at Caribana in 2007 where he attempted a “West Indian Salute” and fired a weapon in the air in a crowd. Out of jail and trying to recap­ture the career that he lost, Alias and this group of artists try to keep their lives from get­ting too real and over­shad­owing their art and dreams.

While Toronto does have a respected hip-hop and rap cul­ture, there hasn’t been much respect given through main­stream media cov­erage. But as the film unfolds, it becomes clear that Latimer really took the time to con­nect and under­stand her sub­jects and they provide her access that is almost start­ling in its intimacy.

In one of the earliest scenes, Master Knia is organ­izing a hip-hop night at the Opera House, trying to get lesser-known artists on a bill for the evening. As he admits, things don’t start quite on time as the crowd arrives late, the show starts late, and the night runs out with sev­eral artists still left to per­form. While the con­cert fea­tured a bevy of young, mod­er­ately tal­ented artists boun­cing around with more entourage on stage than ori­ginal hooks, our seasoned sub­jects are left standing at the side, ill at ease with the organ­iz­a­tion of the night, but trying not to give Knia a hard time, watching their chance to per­form slip away. All five of them have kids, and as any parent knows, taking a night off from child care requires not just finding a babysitter, but losing out on quality time with their kid, and when reality sets in and they can’t get onstage, it’s hard to watch as they each reveal their dis­ap­point­ment. Not exactly the first per­sonal reveal you’d expect to see in a film about hip hop artists and the scene.

After this scene, it’s very evident that we’re not watching a film about cocky, up-and-coming artists; these are vet­eran per­formers looking to stay rel­evant and get that next big break, while also jug­gling other com­mit­ments like family, work and edu­ca­tion at the same time. But as the film pro­gresses, it reveals the dark­ness that sits at the edges of each subject’s psyche. Violence, crime, dis­crim­in­a­tion and poverty, in some form or another, are daily reminders of the dif­fi­cult reality during the day-to-day of their lives. Keon Love reveals early on that she’s lost 11 people to viol­ence alone in the last year, and as two others admit to hust­ling on the side to sur­vive, they live in fear from cops on a reg­ular basis. But throughout it all, the doc­u­mentary is full of moments that high­light the hustle and the struggle that this group puts towards their art, des­pite any mixed res­ults. A mid-afternoon music video shoot is delayed by late dan­cers, a less-than-ideal weather situ­ation and dis­or­gan­ized friends, but still they manage to pull it together in the end. In some moments how­ever, real exhaus­tion seems to set in. For all the pos­it­ives, there’s always the threat of viol­ence, and when the instance occurs in the film, it’s from the hands of a force you least sus­pect, but unfor­tu­nately, ulti­mately expect.

Overall, Alias is a tight, unflinching look at a musical move­ment that is def­in­itely gen­er­ated by class struggles and geo­graphy, a genre cre­ated when people are told they can’t expect to do much with their lives and fight back through art, and a group of local artists trying des­per­ately to not fall into the trap of living a life realer than their lyrics.

Alias plays with My Black Box, a short doc­u­mentary about Quebecois hip-hop artist Dramatik and his use of rap to con­quer his stutter.

Alias screens again on Saturday, May 4, 8:45pm at Scotiabank 4. You can buy tickets in advance at the Hot Docs web­site, hotdocs.ca

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Another Night on Earth

Another Night on Earth (Director: David Munoz): Munoz packs a lot into this hour­long verité obser­va­tion of Cairo’s har­ried taxi drivers. Filmed in 2011, while pro­testers were still occupying Tahrir Square, everyone in Another Night on Earth has an opinion on the revolu­tion. What’s most sur­prising and refreshing are the messy but abso­lutely honest exchanges between people you’d never expect to see together. The real revolu­tion seems to be the emer­ging role of women, from the rare female cabbie who’s been driving for 30 years, to the young niqab-wearing revolu­tion­aries arguing for their right to work and an edu­ca­tion. Everyone com­plains about cor­rup­tion and poverty, hoping that cur­rent events will help, though most seem resigned to more suffering.

Some of the best moments, though, aren’t polit­ical at all. An argu­ment over the quality of Egypt’s foot­ballers leads to a hasty exit; a cabbie scolds a kid because he only seems to play sports on Playstation; a woman’s rowdy kids sing a song about get­ting stoned while the driver com­plains of a head­ache. Throughout it all, Cairo’s lively cul­ture of blunt­ness mixed with polite reli­gious plat­it­udes makes for an enlight­ening and inter­esting ride. Director Munoz mostly stays out of the way, but does vary the cam­er­a­work enough that you don’t feel trapped in the traffic, unlike his subjects.

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Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Film Festival 2013

So, the 20th edi­tion of the Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Film Festival starts next week. And nor­mally by this time, I’ve posted sev­eral pre­view posts talking about the films I’m most excited about. Why not this year? Well, I’m very pleased to share that I’ll be working for the fest­ival this year. I only found out about a week ago, but I’ve been busy pre­paring and that might explain my absence not just here, but on Twitter as well.

I’ll be doing the intros and Q&A ses­sions for about 20 films over the festival’s ten days (April 25-May 5, 2013). Even looking at my schedule makes me tired, but it’s going to be a great oppor­tunity to meet film­makers and to help them enjoy the fest­ival and the city. I’m hon­oured to do it, but I have to admit it’s a little strange, too. The job of fest­ival pro­grammer can be divided into two halves: the pre-festival job of screening sub­mis­sions and eval­u­ating whether they’re festival-worthy, and then the work during the fest­ival itself, showing the films and hosting the film­makers. In 2009 and 2010, I was doing the first part of the job for Hot Docs, and this year, I’m doing the second part. Hopefully one day I’ll get to do the whole thing, but I’m tre­mend­ously excited (and a bit nervous) nonetheless.

I’m not going to share my schedule here because, frankly, I really don’t want anyone who knows me to be in the audi­ence (although it’s bound to happen). But I am hoping to see a number of other films, too, and having to re-arrange my schedule at the last minute has put me into a little bit of a panic. I’ve been for­tu­nate to have seen a number of films ahead of the fest­ival, too, but here’s where things will become a little bit strange.

As an employee of the fest­ival, I’m not cer­tain yet what sort of cov­erage I can provide here. I’ve already written a few cap­sule reviews, which you may or may not see here. And as in past years, I have a few guest con­trib­utors who will likely be posting here during the fest­ival. I hope you can appre­ciate the del­icate situ­ation I’m in, which is to say that I may not be able to “cover” the fest­ival the way I have in pre­vious years.

With that in mind, though, I’m happy to point you to some other great local writers who will be cov­ering Hot Docs this year:

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From Up on Poppy Hill
From Up on Poppy Hill opens today, Friday March 22nd, at the TIFF Bell Lightbox.

From Up on Poppy Hill (Director: Goro Miyazaki): Japan is home to the most mature anim­ated film industry in the world. Mature in both senses of the word. First, they have been making anim­ated films for a very long time, and these films are quite often com­mer­cially suc­cessful. Second, the industry is mature in that it doesn’t just make enter­tain­ment for chil­dren. In con­trast to North America, where the terms “comics” and “car­toons” bear a slightly pejor­ative nuance, in Japan, everyone reads manga (illus­trated stories, often seri­al­ized) and watches anime (anim­ated films or tele­vi­sion pro­grammes). The sub­ject matter is incred­ibly broad, as well. You can think of any type of story and chances are that Japan has a manga and/or anime about it.

Studio Ghibli has been among the most suc­cessful cre­ators of anim­ated work. They’re cer­tainly the most well-known out­side of Japan. This is mostly due to the vision of master anim­ator Hiyao Miyazaki. Many of his anim­ated fea­tures (My Neighbour Totoro, Spirited Away) are as beloved by adults as by chil­dren. The latest fea­ture film from Ghibli is From Up on Poppy Hill, and this one is aimed squarely at adults. This nostalgia-soaked story will prob­ably not have a lot of res­on­ance with anyone who hasn’t already passed through their teenage years. Nevertheless the film, written by Hiyao Miyazaki and dir­ected by his son Goro, topped the Japanese box office in 2011 for good reason.

Umi is a Yokohama school­girl living in her grandmother’s boarding house in 1963. Mother is away studying in America, and Father, a supply ship cap­tain, never returned from the Korean War. Nevertheless, Umi is an ener­getic and hard-working young woman, cooking and cleaning for the boarding house guests. The one sign that not all is well is her daily morning ritual of raising signal flags as a tribute to her missing father. Are they a memorial, or does she really think he’ll find his way home by fol­lowing them?

At school, she becomes involved romantic­ally with Shun, the editor of the school paper, and throws her­self into his cru­sade to save the dilap­id­ated club­house where the paper (and every other boys’ club) has its office. Shun and his friends don’t believe in des­troying the past, even if the rest of the country is eagerly tearing down the old to make way for the 1964 Tokyo Olympics. Instead, Umi and Shun recruit many of the stu­dents to clean and restore the old building. Along the way, their bud­ding romance is com­plic­ated by a family secret, but this melo­dra­matic twist only adds to the lovely poignancy of the film.

When I call the film nostalgia-soaked, I mean it. It’s set fifty years ago, and yet everyone in it is con­tending with events from even earlier. Japan in the 1960s was eager to throw off the legacy of the Second World War and rejoin the world, even if it meant for­get­ting the many sac­ri­fices its people made. It’s lovely that the ones trying to honour the past are teen­agers, who often seem uncon­cerned with things that happened last year, never mind things that occurred before they were born. Certainly Umi’s longing for her father is a con­trib­uting factor, but the club­house pro­ject adds another ele­ment, and the boys’ respect for tra­di­tion in the face of their elders’ desire for change seems quaint and idealistic.

But the film is also brave for even sug­gesting that the mil­itary losses of Japan, con­sidered the aggressor in its wars against China and the Allies, are worth hon­ouring. Those who died were mem­bers of fam­ilies, who mourned for and in many cases struggled without them. Their qual­ities of bravery and sac­ri­fice should not be for­gotten in the shame over a mis­guided polit­ical ideo­logy. Miyazaki (both father and son) finds a way to per­son­alize these losses in a moving story about change that still finds room to honour what has come before.

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