TIFF 2011: My Schedule

Well, it’s that time of year again. For the 17th year, I’ll be attending the Toronto International Film Festival. Alas, even though I applied this year for the very first time, I was not successful in obtaining press accreditation. Nevertheless, I’ll still be seeing my normal ten films, which I’ve listed below. I was also fortunate to be able to attend a number of pre-festival press screenings, so you’ll see those reviews posted during TIFF as well. Special thanks to the geniuses behind Tiffr, an online scheduling tool that becomes more indispensable each year.

In addition the above, I’m hoping to catch the entire 15 hours of Mark Cousins’ documentary series The Story of Film: An Odyssey which is showing for free. I’m going to try to see it in five 3-hour segments, screening at 10:00am each day from Monday September 12 through Friday September 16. It’s also being shown in two parts on the final weekend of the festival, but that sounds a lot more exhausting.

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Our Idiot Brother

Our Idiot Brother
Our Idiot Brother opens theatrically on Friday August 26, 2011.

Our Idiot Brother (Director: Jesse Peretz): For those of us used to seeing Paul Rudd play the “straight man” in comedies like I Love You, Man and Knocked Up, it’s tantalizing to see him sporting long hair and Crocs in this film, which premiered at Sundance back in January. The Sundance connection is relevant, because the rest of the cast is filled out with Sundance darlings such as Zooey Deschanel, Adam Scott, Elizabeth Banks, and Katie Aselton, not to mention other recognizable stars like Steve Coogan, Emily Mortimer, Rashida Jones and Hugh Dancy. And therein lies the problem. In a film that promises to be about a single idiot, there are a dozen characters fighting for screen time, and it leaves the film a sprawling mess.

Rudd plays Ned, a kind-hearted but rather thick slacker who ends up in jail after selling pot to a uniformed police officer. Upon his release, he learns his vegan farmer girlfriend has taken up with someone else, throwing him out of both house and job. To make matters worse, she is keeping his beloved dog Willie Nelson. After a brief stay with his distracted alcoholic mother, he heads into the city to crash with one of his three sisters. Miranda (Banks) is the uptight career woman, and she doesn’t want him getting in the way of her ambition. Natalie (Deschanel) is the free-spirited and promiscuous one, but she’s trying to settle down to a serious relationship with her girlfriend Cindy (Jones, looking adorably dorky in terrible glasses). So he goes to Liz (Mortimer), who has two kids and a preening documentary filmmaker husband (Coogan). Hijinks invariably ensue, and in no time, Ned has messed up the lives of all three sisters with his clueless attempts at honesty and goodness.

There are undoubtedly some good moments (the banter between Ned and Billy, his girlfriend’s new hippie beau, is hilarious), but for me even the 90 minute runtime felt long. At the same time, it wasn’t long enough to flesh out the many characters and relationships. A few of the subplots could easily have been made into films of their own, although there’s no guarantee they’d be good films, either.



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Trigger

Trigger
This post comes courtesy of Monika Bartyzel, freelance writer and junkie of Canadian cinema, frequently seen at Movies.com and previously sites such as Cinematical and Moviefone.ca. I’m hoping to convince her to contribute more of her insightful writing in the future.
Trigger (Director: Bruce McDonald): Trigger is a love letter – a love letter to Toronto, to growing old, to memories, to music, and – most importantly – to the late Tracy Wright. It’s a film with dual meanings – the story as it lives out in the film, and the real world in subtext. Luckily, it’s not one where reality trumps fiction or fiction obscures reality. Instead, coincidental circumstance merges both in a way that works beautifully as a tale of weathered friendship as well as a showcase for the many talents of Wright.

For the uninitiated: In 2008, Canadian filmmaker Bruce McDonald re-watched My Dinner with Andre, and was itching to do a barebones piece using the same discussion-over-dinner style. He lured scribe Daniel MacIvor with the idea, who in turn convinced the filmmaker that it should break out of one location and become the story of two men out in Toronto. It became two women, Tracy Wright was invited to participate, and when she learned that she had six months to live, the film was fast-tracked and shot with astonishing indie speed, becoming one of her last films.

The world of Trigger is simple. Two women (Wright’s Vic and Molly Parker’s Kat), who haven’t seen each other for years, meet for dinner. Vic is the aging rocker who has kept the bare-bones lifestyle, and struggles to balance her own cynicism with her quest for spiritual relief. Kat is the rocker-gone-mainstream-success, the woman who puts on a show but yearns for the honesty of her previous life. Within moments, their inner dams are broken and skeletons start climbing out of their psyches – addiction, pain, betrayal, feelings of uselessness… Each woman is the knowing face of the other’s past, both the only person who can really understand them and the exact person who is too dangerous to see. It’s impossible for either to maintain false civility as their inner demons are released, teasing both danger and catharsis.

The Andre-ish start quickly bubbles into a Before Sunset structure as the women step outside and traverse the city over the course of one night. Each locale – restaurant, home, club – seems to bring out a new revelation, many of which have an eerie similarity to Wright’s real world outside of the film. (A similarity that MacIvor assures is a coincidence.) The pair discuss addiction, friendship, families, work, life, mortality, and all of the minutiae and drama that clutch onto our lives.

These moments seems incredibly intimate to real life while also being perfectly contained in the film, existing as a natural form of method acting rather than moments where real life rips attention away from the fictional film. They are much like the scenes in Before Sunset when Ethan Hawke’s Jesse talks about his marital discontent, soon after his own real-life marriage dissolved. While the stories aren’t the same, the emotional truth is, and unleashing just that little amount of real-life pain gives the fictional journey all the more weight – the presence of real, never-to-be-released tears trumping carefully planned crying. In fact, that slight blending of fiction and reality allow us to feel the wall the actresses built between themselves and the material, which in the context of Trigger, feels like the characters’ own safety mechanisms.

Bruce McDonald’s straightforward filmmaking is an apt companion to their interpersonal exploration. There are no stunning visuals or slick camerawork to make this feel like a big production. The camera just lurks, almost voyeuristically capturing the experience, and rather than controlling our attention, it’s all up to the actresses – particularly Wright. When the cinematic moments are closest to real life and Wright speaks, the camera is content to stay on her, lovingly but also quietly mesmerized, just like those times when we get so caught up in a moment or piece of beauty that the rest of the world, the screen, or the film fades away. Instead of a slick package dictating our reaction with angles, light, and swelling music, it’s up to Wright and Parker to make us feel, which makes each moment that much more real – there’s little between the performance and the audience.

It helps that everything seems to be a reflection of the other. There is Vic and Tracy Wright – two separate stories that coincidentally come together into a whole, and the glue is the time and place – Toronto. Each location reflects an aspect of the story, from the crispness of a classy restaurant reflecting the initial false civility of the affair, to a school emphasizing the fact that you can long for the past, though your current self can never fit into it. Wright was an important piece of the indie film and theatre scene in the city, and Trigger manages to express her moments in time as well as her talents – not the glitz and glam but the hands-on, dirty, creative energy.

Each piece intermingles with the rest and continues to flow back and forth between all these aspects in a way that could only work as well in that time, place, and circumstance. When Vic says “I don’t care about the destination; I’m more concerned about the velocity,” it speaks as much to real life as it does to the plot’s experience and the nature of nostalgia in both the city and beyond. It speaks to growing old, to struggling to find a place, to settling, to convincing yourself that the false is good, to trying to find faith, and most certainly to let an actress thrive in a role she wasn’t usually awarded, while giving her a vehicle to express some of her final moments in time.

As a DVD treatment, however, one can’t help but wonder (or hope) if this release is the placeholder before a special edition. The film is packaged with two all-too-brief “extras” – a few short clips of the table read the actors did before the film, and a trailer for TO in 24, the latter of which isn’t clearly explained to be a trailer (it’s titled “One Breath”), and seems like a random short film slapped on to fill space.

Obviously, this film is minimalist and there likely wasn’t the budget for special features like a making-of, a retrospective of Wright’s work, a look at the Toronto musical talent featured in the film, or other highly produced goodies. That said, there are a myriad of options that could have bolstered the release that would have taken much less effort – a brief blip from the filmmakers/collaborators about Wright, her filmography and biography, the TIFF Q&A’s, or even Don McKellar’s letter to friends upon her death, which was subsequently published for the fans who mourned her. As a production that came together in a shockingly brief amount of time, Trigger is at least begging for a commentary or two, to talk about how all of this came together, and how they pulled it off so fast and so well.

Perhaps in the future. For now, however, I urge you to watch the film, and use the links below as your special features.

eOne released Trigger on DVD in Canada on July 26, 2011. Help support Toronto Screen Shots by buying it on Amazon.ca.

Earlier Work:

The Letter Don McKellar Wrote to Friends After Her Death:

Q&A from TIFF 2010 Premiere

Daniel MacIvor Writes about Tracy:

In Memoriam:

Notes on Her Memorial:



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Report: Montréal World Film Festival 2011

Smoked meat sandwich from Schwartz's Deli

I’ve just returned from my third annual trip to the Festival des films du monde in Montréal, a city I appreciate more each time I visit. I was there for five days, and saw 9 films during my time there. This year, I opted to stay right in the Quartier Latin neighbourhood where most of the films are screened. The Hotel Quartier Latin was basic, but clean and relatively quiet, despite being right next door to a “gentlemen’s club.” More importantly, it was convenient not only to the cinemas (150 metres away!) but to the bus station (about 400 metres), Metro (subway) station (250 metres) and to a host of fine drinking establishments. I enjoyed the microbrews at Le Saint Bock and, especially, L’amère à boire. Both were within stumbling distance of my hotel, though for the record, there was no stumbling involved. I also got to enjoy an amazing smoked meat sandwich at Schwartz’s, though completely missed my bagel fix from Fairmount Bagels this year.

Microbrew at L'amère à boire

What about the films, you say? Well, just in case I don’t get to review all of them before TIFF arrives, here is a list of what I saw in order from best to worst (though nothing was truly awful):

The festival experience itself continues to be an interesting contrast to TIFF. The audiences at MWFF are much older, with the majority of attendees in their 50s or older. And I find them unsure when to applaud at the end of films and reticent during Q&A sessions, so very different from the Toronto audiences. Only one of the screenings I attended was anywhere near full (The Artist) and although I do enjoy my time at MWFF, I have a few concerns about its ongoing sustainability in a city with so many other fine film festivals. Perhaps next year, I’ll give the Festival du nouveau cinéma a try.

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Calvet

Calvet

Calvet (Director: Dominic Allan): The story that Jean-Marc Calvet tells in this essentially one-man show is so unbelievable that you might find yourself not believing it. But director Allan, who doesn’t appear in the film, was on hand to assure the audience that he has done his research, and it all checks out. Here is yet another case where the truth is stranger than fiction.

Calvet today is a renowned painter who lives in Nicaragua and sells his work in New York galleries. But less than a decade ago, he’d never picked up a paintbrush. Worse, he was a man on such a path of self-destruction that nobody seemed able to divert him.

Sure, he’d been a troubled teenager growing up in the south of France, struggling with drug addiction and sexual abuse, but then he entered the Foreign Legion and traveled the world. He met a nice woman, got her pregnant, and became a cop. But even after his son Kevin was born, Calvet continued to dabble with the dark side. His drinking and drug problem never really went away, and he got into racketeering. He went on to work in private security, and even served as a bodyguard for American stars like Mel Gibson, Forest Whittaker and Tim Robbins who were visiting the Cannes Film Festival.

Through connections, he began working as a bodyguard for a shady American who offered him a huge salary to come back to the States with him. But he’d have to cut off all ties, leaving his wife and young son behind. Taking a chance, Calvet moved to Miami to become the man’s trusted protector, but the arrangement soured when he realized he wasn’t getting the promised money. By this time he’d realized that he was working for a mobster, and the man was so paranoid that he had all his bank accounts in Calvet’s name. It was only a matter of time before Calvet began to look for an opportunity to get paid. When the time came, he absconded with more than half a million dollars and found his way to Central America.

In Costa Rica, Calvet bought himself a house and a nightclub, but became too paralyzed by his fear to live the high life for long. It’s here where his addictions nearly took him, and his paranoia mixed with his tremendous guilt over abandoning his child. Punishing himself with larger and larger doses of drugs and booze, he began to hear voices and see visions. Almost in a trance, he discovered paint cans under his staircase and after plunging his fists into them, began to smear the walls of his house. In this way, he discovered painting.

Years later, clean and sober and using his art as therapy, he resolves to find Kevin and hopefully to reconcile. While the first part of the film features Calvet remembering his past, the last half is unwritten as the filmmaker travels with him in search of his lost boy. It’s clear how important this is to him, and also how nervous he is about the outcome.

The resulting film is by turns harrowing, gripping, and moving. Through art and sheer force of will, Calvet is able to destroy the dark parts of his personality and rediscover the lost boy in himself. Only then does he feel worthy enough to search for Kevin. Director Allan knows when to stay out of the way, although his visual and sonic touches do add considerably to the telling of the tale. And what a tale it is.

Official site of the film



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