belgium

Today the full schedule was announced and I picked up my TIFF pro­gramme book. There are way more films than I’ll be able to see, but here are a few more that I’m hoping not to miss:

Mr. Nobody

Mr. Nobody (Director: Jaco van Dormael): No recently announced film had me more excited than this one. Jaco van Dormael dir­ected the incred­ible Toto le héros (1991) but has taken a very long sab­bat­ical from film­making. This film, his first in 13 years, seems remin­is­cent of Toto, which makes me very happy indeed. Jared Leto plays Nemo, at 120 the oldest living man in the year 2092. He’s also the last mortal, since advances in stem-cell tech­no­logy means nobody has to die any­more. But Nemo is dying, and coming to terms with a life­time of memories, not all of which can be real. Or can they?

Official site of the film (French)

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Dogtooth (Kynodontas)

Dogtooth (Kynodontas) (Director: Giorgos Lanthimos): A family where the teen­aged chil­dren are not allowed to leave the house, are taught the wrong words for everything, and are sexu­ally “relieved” occa­sion­ally by one of their father’s employees? This sounds like a social exper­i­ment gone wild, and the reviews from Cannes were puzzled but pos­itive. It’s some kind of satire, prob­ably about the fear of sex as a corrupting/liberating force, but the stills I’ve seen (and that poster!) have me curious just to look at it. Note: The embedded trailer below is not work-safe. There is some brief nudity.

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Hiroshima

Hiroshima (Director: Pablo Stoll): From the co-director of Whisky (2004) comes a “(mostly) silent musical” about the director’s brother Juan, who is unable to com­mu­nicate except through his music. As lead singer of a band, Juan has oppor­tun­ities to express him­self, but without music, finds him­self cut off from the world and people around him. This prom­ises to be quite moving, since Stoll’s long­time co-director Juan Pablo Rebello took his own life in 2006 and the film is being talked about as a tribute of sorts to him. The descrip­tion doesn’t quite make clear whether Juan Stoll is acting or just playing him­self, which adds another layer of poignancy to the story.

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Les fourmis rouges (Red Ants)

Les fourmis rouges (Red Ants) (Director: Stéphan Carpiaux): You only need to look at the film’s poster to determine the appeal of Stéphan Carpiaux’s debut fea­ture. The stun­ningly beau­tiful Déborah François plays 16-year-old Alex, who lives alone with her father and helps him run his garage in the Belgian coun­tryside. Unfortunately, the film itself isn’t really any­thing spe­cial, and if it weren’t for the mag­netism of young Ms. François, I prob­ably wouldn’t have watched this until the pre­dict­ably upbeat ending.

Alex and her father Franck are still grieving the loss of her mother and his wife in an auto acci­dent sev­eral years before. As Alex grows into woman­hood, she begins to resemble her mother more and more, even as she attempts to replace her in Franck’s life. This leads to some awk­ward longing glances between the two, though neither seem artic­u­late enough to deal with this taboo dir­ectly. Her father’s debts are piling up as he neg­lects his busi­ness, and he’s rebuffing the efforts of Anne, a book­keeper who wants to help but who com­plic­ated things years before when she expressed her romantic interest in Franck too soon after his wife’s death. Alex is also a loner, and des­pite her looks, only seems to be bait for teasing from the boys at school.

In order to help with the mounting bills, she takes a job looking after Irène, an older English woman who lives with her adopted “nephew” Hector, who is a musical genius but also an oddball with no friends. Predictably, the rela­tion­ship with Irène starts out rocky, thaws a bit, and then chills again. The woman is wholly dependent upon Hector and refuses to let him pursue his musical edu­ca­tion. There is an entirely pre­dict­able sub­plot about her trying to pre­vent him from attending the Conservatory and another uncon­vin­cingly linking Alex and Hector romantically.

It was frus­trating to watch these inar­tic­u­late char­ac­ters struggle to try to deal with their pent-up emo­tions. As well, there were so many clichés in the storytelling that it became dis­tracting. Of course, Alex runs away from home wearing a clingy dress, and then is caught in a down­pour. Combining the use of pathetic fal­lacy (because she is sad, it rains) with the chance to show her soaking wet in a clingy dress might have seemed eco­nom­ical to the dir­ector, but it made me cringe.

To make mat­ters even more con­fusing, there is a repeated story about the pro­gres­sion of a line of red ants that made no sense to me, unless it had some­thing to do with the recur­ring images of wind­mills. I don’t think I’m that deaf to meta­phor; I just couldn’t put it together.

Les fourmis rouges is not exactly a ter­rible film. It’s just not as ser­ious as it thinks it is, nor as fresh. The excep­tion, of course, is Déborah François, whom I think I could watch in any­thing from now on.

6/10(6/10)

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Cinéfranco 2009

Cinéfranco is Toronto’s fest­ival of films in the French lan­guage. The 12th edi­tion is run­ning from tomorrow, March 27th, through April 5th at the Royal Cinema at 608 College Street West, fea­turing films from all over the French-speaking world, with films from France, Québec, Morocco, Belgium, and Switzerland. All films are sub­titled in English, and tickets are avail­able at the cinema for $10 each.

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JCVD

by Jay Kerr on September 5, 2008 · 1 comment

in Film Festivals,TIFF

JCVD

JCVD (2008, Director: Mabrouk El Mechri): At just 47 years-old, Jean-Claude Van Damme (JCVD) is looking really old and tired. He’s a fading action hero like Sylvester Stallone and Steven Seagal. What could be a better way to get back in the spot­light than make a film about your­self, warts and all? It worked for Pauly Shore, sort of.

Van Damme plays him­self in this action-comedy. He walks into a bank rob­bery and gets taken hostage with sev­eral others. The police mis­takenly believe that Van Damme has gone over the edge and that he alone is behind the rob­bery and hostage-taking.

This isn’t your typ­ical Van Damme action film. Instead, it exam­ines the nature of fame. It shows how false the notion of celebrity can be. The hostage crisis shows Jean-Claude to be a reg­ular guy who fears for his life in a dan­gerous situ­ation. He may be a famous Belgian movie star, but he’s also in the middle of a child cus­tody battle, broke, and losing movie roles to that damn Steven Seagal.

All of this leads up to a bizarre mono­logue whereby Van Damme looks dir­ectly at the camera and pours out his soul for 9 minutes. I’ve never seen any­thing like it, but the scene abso­lutely works. At the Q&A after the film, dir­ector Mabrouk El Mechri revealed that this entire scene was kept secret from the crew until the moment of shooting.

A lot of the scenes in JCVD were impro­vised. El Mechri had a script but quite often let the actors come up with their own dia­logue. The res­ults are very funny and in El Mechri’s words, “better than the dia­logue [he] came up with.”

This film gen­er­ated a lot of buzz at Cannes which is sure to con­tinue after the screen­ings in Toronto. Tonight’s crowd at the Ryerson Theatre loved the film and it was a great way to kick off the Midnight Madness pro­gram at TIFF ’08.

I found the film to be unique and quite enjoy­able des­pite the com­par­isons to Being John Malkovich (1999). If you’ve ever wondered what happened to the “Muscles from Brussels” then JCVD is your answer.

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Le Silence de Lorna

Le Silence de Lorna (2008, Directors: Jean Pierre Dardenne and Luc Dardenne): Sadly, once again I come to the work of acclaimed film­makers with no pre­vious exper­i­ence of their work. The Dardenne brothers have been mining their own seam for many years now, exploring the lives of the poor, unglam­orous and des­perate in unfussy real­istic films. Their latest pro­voked polar­izing reac­tions at Cannes this year, where some found it styl­ist­ic­ally too sim­ilar to their pre­vious work, or them­at­ic­ally too much like other films about the inter­sec­tions of the old and new Europe. Luckily, I wasn’t car­rying that baggage.

Lorna (Arta Dobroshi) is a young Albanian woman living in Belgium whose dream is to one day open a snack bar with her boy­friend Sokol. In order to be eli­gible for bank loans and other bene­fits, she enters a mar­riage of con­veni­ence with a heroin addict to gain her cit­izen­ship. We quickly learn, how­ever, that this is only a small part of a larger, darker scheme mas­ter­minded by a local small-time hood named Fabio. Both Lorna and her hus­band Claudy (Jeremie Renier, a stal­wart of the Dardennes’ recent films) have been paid, with the under­standing that Lorna will divorce Claudy as soon as she gains her cit­izen­ship so she can remarry a wealthy Russian, allowing him to obtain cit­izen­ship as well. At least that’s what Claudy thinks. But Fabio’s plan is to stage Claudy’s death from a heroin over­dose instead. Will Lorna go along with this decep­tion? At the begin­ning it appears that she will. She and Claudy live under the same roof, but keep sep­arate rooms and there is little in the way of sym­pathy. But when he decides that he wants to kick his habit and begins beg­ging her for help, Lorna’s atti­tude slowly begins to change. After a suc­cessful hos­pital stay, he is released and his rela­tion­ship with Lorna seems to enter pre­vi­ously unknown ter­ritory. The plan is in jeop­ardy because people who started off using each other start to feel con­nected. Fabio, mean­while, is des­perate to com­plete the deal with the Russian at all costs.

Dobroshi is in almost every frame of this film and she is won­derful, showing a single-minded stoicism punc­tu­ated with some unex­pected out­bursts of emo­tion. Remarkably, des­pite the dehu­man­izing aspects of the scheme, it’s one Lorna entered into will­ingly, and at no point is there any sexual exploit­a­tion. In fact, when sex does enter the pic­ture, it’s as an expres­sion of rebel­lion and of pas­sion, and it throws the whole greed-fuelled plan into dis­array. She soon comes to realize her power­less­ness and expend­ab­ility and by the end of the film, her dreams have been replaced with a des­perate desire simply to sur­vive. Along the way, though, this sol­itary and determ­ined figure becomes more alive and less alone, even as her carefully-ordered life loses all of its sta­bility. If this is minor Dardennes, I can’t wait to catch up on the major stuff.

Trailer

9/10(9/10)

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