From the monthly archives:

January 2010

Top Gear - Your Hosts
Editor’s Note: Top Gear Seasons 11 and 12 were released on DVD in the US and Canada on January 12 by Warner Brothers. You can help Toronto Screen Shots by buying from Amazon.ca or Amazon.com.

I don’t own a car. In fact, I don’t even drive. That hasn’t dimin­ished in the slightest my pas­sion for this show. Broadcast ori­gin­ally on BBC, and now a hit on this side of the pond on BBC America and BBC Canada, this show about cars might pos­sibly be the best thing on television.

On the air since 1978, it’s been hosted since 1988 by the cur­mudgeonly Jeremy Clarkson. He’s ably assisted by tall hippie James May (often called “Captain Slow” by his col­leagues) and the dimin­utive Richard Hammond (occa­sion­ally referred to as “Hamster”). The chem­istry between the hosts is about 80% of the secret to the show’s suc­cess, with the centrepiece of each episode con­sisting of a series of vehicle-related chal­lenges in which the trio can com­pete against each other. Some high­lights include the three racing each other in trucks and city buses.

Other pop­ular seg­ments are the “Star in a Reasonably-Priced Car” (in which a celebrity is inter­viewed after com­pleting a lap of the racetrack in a “reg­ular” car) and those involving the masked race driver known only as The Stig. This anonymous pro takes out an end­less pro­ces­sion of fancy cars week after week and tries to com­plete the fastest lap of the Top Gear track. In this way, models are rated against each other and argued about end­lessly by the hosts.

Perhaps the best thing about the show is that it makes not a bit of dif­fer­ence that none of the models fea­tured on the show are even for sale in North America. Nobody in Britain can afford these cars, anyway. Top Gear is the ulti­mate vicarious thrill show. We can watch a crew of foul-mouthed wise­cracking lun­atics tear around a race track in ludicrously expensive cars and we’re sat­is­fied. The cam­er­a­work is dazzling, and the descrip­tions of the cars are over the top, which is also part of the fun.

It’s simply a joy to see these guys having so much fun at their jobs. The inter­views are also great, because they put the celebrities into unfa­miliar ter­ritory. Behind the wheel of a car and racing around a track, they don’t seem that much dif­ferent to us after all. Well, except for me. I can’t drive.

Top Gear Season 11 DVD Top Gear Season 12 DVD

Season 11 Details:

  • 6 epis­odes on 2 DVDs
  • 364 minutes

Season 12 Details:

  • 8 epis­odes on 4 DVDs
  • 500 minutes
  • Special Features include com­mentary on cer­tain epis­odes, the director’s cut of the Botswana Special from Season 10, deleted scenes and more.

Official web site on BBC America

Complete episode guide from Wikipedia

{ 2 comments }

Maelström

by James McNally on January 21, 2010 · 0 comments

in DVD

Maelström

Maelström (Director: Denis Villeneuve): My first exposure to Villeneuve’s work was his wickedly funny and stylish short Next Floor, and his latest fea­ture Polytechnique just won the award for Best Canadian Film of 2009 from the Toronto Film Critics Association, so I was eager to watch this film, which ori­gin­ally played to con­sid­er­able buzz at the 2000 Toronto International Film Festival. I’m sorry that it took me so long to catch up with this unique film, and I can tell you that I’m going to be watching Polytechnique and every other bit of film Villeneuve has had a hand in cre­ating as soon as I can.

Maelström is the sort of auda­cious film­making that begins its tale with an untrans­lated title card in Norwegian, con­tinues with a talking fish as nar­rator, and then assaults you with the strains of “Good Morning Starshine” (from the musical Hair) over scenes of a woman having an abor­tion. And that’s just the first five minutes.

Bibiane Champagne (Marie-Josée Croze) is a suc­cessful young entre­preneur, run­ning a fash­ion­able boutique with her brother. They are the chil­dren of a famous designer, and this seems to weigh heavily on her. Weighing more heavily is the guilt she feels for the abor­tion she’s just had. After a night of partying to forget her pain, she drives drunk, hit­ting a ped­es­trian on her way home. She finds out a few days later in the news­paper that the man dragged him­self out of the road, staggered home, and died sit­ting at his kit­chen table. With her guilt now doubled, she’s dis­con­nected even fur­ther from her work and pon­ders sui­cide. Planning to ditch her car in the river, she almost drowns, but emerges from the water hoping for a second chance at life.

Her second chance arrives in the form of the son of the man she’s killed. While his father was a Norwegian fish­erman, Evian (Jean-Nicolas Verreault) is a scuba diver (or charm­ingly referred to in the sub­titles, a “frogman”), working for Hydro Quebec in the remote northern part of the province. When Bibiane is drawn to the morgue at the same time as Evian, they begin an enig­matic rela­tion­ship in which Bibiane pre­tends to be his father’s neigh­bour. Eventually the truth will come out and these two people will have to decide how to move for­ward with their lives.

Maelström has the sump­tuous visual style and mor­bidity of Peter Greenaway and the obses­sion with coin­cid­ence and weighty philo­soph­ical themes as Krzysztof Kieslowski. While that might not appeal to everyone, it’s a dream match for me, and while I caught myself a few times thinking the film was just a bit too pretty, I was solidly engrossed throughout and sat­is­fied by the conclusion.

Bold film­makers like Villeneuve are rare, and they can often make ter­rible mis­takes in judge­ment. Witness Julio Medem’s most recent film Caótica Ana (review), or Jaco van Dormael’s Mr. Nobody, both huge per­sonal dis­ap­point­ments after I’d enjoyed their earlier work. But I’m always willing to give film­makers like these another chance, hoping that failure doesn’t blunt their appetite for risk-taking. Or mine.

9/10(9/10)

{ 0 comments }

Last Train Home
Editor’s Note: Doc Soup is a monthly doc­u­mentary screening pro­gramme run by the good folks at Hot Docs. It gives audi­ences in Toronto, Calgary, Edmonton and Vancouver their reg­ular doc fix each year from the fall through to the spring, leading up to the Hot Docs fest­ival itself.

Last Train Home (Director: Lixin Fan): China is argu­ably the world’s most important eco­nomy at the moment and the past fifty years have seen incred­ible changes, polit­ic­ally, eco­nom­ic­ally and socially. Many film­makers have emerged from the country, including a number of excel­lent doc­u­ment­arians. Chinese-Canadian Lixin Fan can proudly stand among them with Last Train Home, just his first fea­ture film as director.

In my lim­ited exper­i­ence, to make a great film about China, you must encom­pass the country’s vast­ness, both in terms of geo­graphy and of pop­u­la­tion, but also be able to focus in on indi­vidual stories. In this case, we are intro­duced to the Zhangs, a family of migrant workers, just as the par­ents are about to make their yearly journey home to their vil­lage to cel­eb­rate Chinese New Year. Along with 140 mil­lion other migrant workers, this is often the only occa­sion they get to spend time with their chil­dren and par­ents. Making their way from the indus­trial city in which they work to their vil­lage in the coun­tryside is an exhausting and stressful multi-day journey of more than 2,000 kilo­metres. Traveling by train, bus and ferry boat, they arrive exhausted and are able to spend only a few days with their son Yang (10) and daughter Qin (17), who have grown up under the care of their grandparents.

Despite the eco­nomic real­ities which make it neces­sary for fam­ilies to be divided this way, the Zhangs feel they are doing it so that their chil­dren will have better lives. They con­stantly badger their chil­dren about their grades, per­haps because they really have nothing else to talk about. Daughter Qin is reaching the stage of adoles­cence where she begins to rebel against her par­ents. She com­plains that they’ve essen­tially aban­doned her and her brother and a few months after they’ve returned to the city, she drops out of school to become a migrant worker her­self. The boredom of rural life for a teen­ager looks very dif­ferent from the per­spective of her par­ents who have been away for 16 years working in hor­rific con­di­tions just to provide their kids with this pro­tected upbringing, but that’s lost on Qin, who wants the “freedom” of working in a factory.

While this is a crushing blow for her par­ents, who wanted to see her finish her studies, by the next year, they’re ready to travel home again for the New Year hol­iday. They’ve been pres­suring Qin to return to school, and it looks as though she’s reluct­antly agreed. But this year’s migra­tion is affected by a snowstorm which knocks out the elec­trical grid and delays the trains for days. The scenes of huge crowds pushing each other are har­rowing. While the trip home is a huge hassle at the best of times, it become a ter­ri­fying ordeal when sched­ules don’t run smoothly. When they finally board their train, it’s clear that Qin is not speaking with her par­ents, and she spends the whole trip in sullen silence.

Things come to a head during the hol­iday, and Qin’s insolence leads to a phys­ical con­front­a­tion with her father. Eventually, like all par­ents, they resign them­selves to let­ting Qin go her own way, hoping that son Yang can finish school and sup­port the family. In the mean­time, they return to the city again, back to their mono­tonous factory jobs.

My syn­opsis makes this sound like a fic­tion fea­ture, and for all the intimacy the film­makers achieve, it might as well be. It’s helped tre­mend­ously by some very crisp editing, as well as some sweeping cine­ma­to­graphy of the lush Chinese coun­tryside. Last Train Home suc­ceeds in cap­turing both the epic scale of the changes sweeping today’s China and their impact on the indi­vidual fam­ilies strug­gling with them.

Two addi­tional notes. First the dis­claimer: my com­pany (Kinosmith) is the Canadian dis­trib­utor for this film. And second, the film is headed to the Sundance Film Festival, where it will com­pete in the World Cinema Documentary Competition.

Here is the Q&A with dir­ector Lixin Fan from after the screening:

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (ver­sion 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest ver­sion here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Duration: 15:48

Official site of the film

9/10(9/10)

{ 1 comment }

National Film Board Goes 3D

Celebrating the one year anniversary of their online screening room, and fol­lowing the suc­cess of such 3D titles as Avatar and Up, Canada’s National Film Board has con­tinued to innovate by making some of the films in its online screening room avail­able in 3D. Short films Drux Flux by Theodore Ushev and the Genie Award-winning Falling in Love Again by Munro Ferguson are avail­able now, as well as excerpts from Facing Champlain, a ste­reo­scopic pro­duc­tion cre­ated for the 400th anniversary cel­eb­ra­tions in Quebec City. The films will be view­able both in the online screening room and on the iPhone applic­a­tion using 3D glasses, which can either be ordered from the NFB web site, or picked up for free at their Toronto Mediatheque (150 John Street).

Visit the NFB 3D portal for more inform­a­tion.

In addi­tion, they are making 26 of their films avail­able in HD, including cel­eb­rated shorts like Madame Tutli-Putli, Ryan, and The Cat Came Back. No glasses required for these, just head to their HD portal and enjoy.

{ 0 comments }

Mine
Mine was the December 2009 selec­tion of Film Movement Canada, a sub­scrip­tion ser­vice that brings the best of inde­pendent cinema to your door each month. Though it’s only recently launched here, Film Movement has oper­ated in the US for sev­eral years, and has long been one of my favourite sources of great films. Mine is screening the­at­ric­ally around the US until the end of March 2010 (more inform­a­tion) and will be avail­able through iTunes this month, too.

Mine (Director: Geralyn Pezanoski): Winner of the Audience Award at the 2009 SXSW Film Festival, Mine is a gut-wrenching look at some of the for­gotten vic­tims of 2005’s Hurricane Katrina: pets and their owners. My wife and I are thinking of becoming dog owners, and after watching this film, I’m more con­vinced than ever that pets really do become part of the family.

In the after­math of Hurricane Katrina, thou­sands of evacuees were forced to leave their cats and dogs behind. Shelters wouldn’t accept animals, and in some cases, people left their pets thinking they’d be gone just a few days. We all know what happened. Many people still haven’t returned to the city, and those who did had to wait months. In the mean­time, more than 150,000 animals died. Thanks to the efforts of volun­teers, sev­eral thou­sand were res­cued, but many were shipped to other states, and when their owners didn’t claim them within a few days, some were adopted out to new fam­ilies. This is where the film gets really interesting.

The failure of the gov­ern­ment to adequately respond to the cata­strophe has been the sub­ject of many fine doc­u­mentary films, but in this case, ordinary people around the country stepped in to do all they could to rescue these pets who’d been left behind. Unfortunately, there is a polit­ical edge to some of these “rescue” organ­iz­a­tions, as some of the former owners soon found out. For instance, many dog owners in New Orleans don’t have their dogs spayed or neutered, whether for fin­an­cial or cul­tural reasons. Among the rescue com­munity, this is con­sidered irre­spons­ible. As well, many of the res­cued animals turned out to have heart­worm infec­tions, some­thing that can be pre­vented with med­ic­a­tion. Again, prob­ably due to fin­an­cial hard­ship or simply ignor­ance, many New Orleans res­id­ents hadn’t treated their pets for heartworm.

The end result was that many of the rescue organ­iz­a­tions saw the ori­ginal owners as neg­li­gent, and after treating the animals for sick­ness, they would spay or neuter them and then adopt them out to more “suit­able” fam­ilies in their areas. When the ori­ginal owners were finally able to track their pets down, the rescue organ­iz­a­tions would tell them that their pet had a new family, and the new family didn’t want to give it up.

We follow sev­eral of these heart­breaking cus­tody battles throughout the course of the film. Though it’s only hinted at, race and class are central to how the stories are played out. Since pets are con­sidered prop­erty under the law, it should simply be a matter of having one’s prop­erty returned, but in the emo­tional bat­tle­field of pet own­er­ship, things are rarely that simple. Having already sur­vived the hur­ricane and the loss of their homes and pos­ses­sions, the res­id­ents of New Orleans have no money to hire law­yers to pursue their missing pets, so a number of volun­teers help them to find law­yers who are willing to work pro bono on the cases. It’s an ugly pro­cess, and one par­tic­ular phone con­ver­sa­tion (part of which appears in the trailer embedded below) between the owner of a missing dog and the head of the rescue organ­iz­a­tion who got him out of New Orleans sums up the film in a nut­shell. People who love animals can often forget that there is a person attached to that animal. If you care about animals, you cannot pre­tend that that rela­tion­ship never existed.

You don’t have to be a dog lover to enjoy Mine. And even if you think you’ve seen all there is to see about Hurricane Katrina, don’t let that keep you away from this insightful film, which has exposed the class divi­sions of our society more clearly than any­thing I’ve seen in a long time.

Official site of the film

8/10(8/10)

{ 0 comments }