canada

Love Shines

Love Shines (Director: Doug Arrowsmith): Love Shines is a first-rate, in-depth por­trait of acclaimed Toronto singer-songwriter Ron Sexsmith. Director Arrowsmith, a hard­core Sexsmith devotee, avoids turning his film into a fanboy gush­fest; instead, he unabashedly presents the singer with all of his flaws nakedly on dis­play. Sexsmith is a pain­fully insecure and intro­verted indi­vidual – your classic “tor­tured artist”, as it were – and it’s sur­prising how much access into his life he gives Arrowsmith, in whom he clearly put a great deal of trust. Shot over the course of seven years, the doc­u­mentary was ori­gin­ally con­ceived to stop filming after Sexsmith’s then career high of head­lining at Toronto’s famed Massey Hall, back in 2006. Instead, Arrowsmith kept shooting, which presented the oppor­tunity to chron­icle the recording of Sexsmith’s twelfth album, Long Player Late Bloomer. Those recording ses­sions, which provide some intriguing insight into Sexsmith’s cre­ative pro­cess, are the centrepiece of Love Shines, and the film is sig­ni­fic­antly better because of it.

Sexsmith, for those unfa­miliar with his career (and I counted myself in that group before watching the doc­u­mentary), has been a per­en­nial critics’ favourite since his debut solo album came out in 1995 (he released an album four years prior as a member of Toronto indie band The Uncool). Peers such as Elvis Costello, Steve Earle, Leslie Feist, and Daniel Lanois have been singing his praises for years and do so throughout the film. In fact, Costello, one of Sexsmith’s biggest cham­pions, equates his skill for cre­ating melodies to that of Paul McCartney. Despite the accol­ades, Sexsmith still sells a paltry number of albums, which is a con­stant source of angst for him. The ongoing struggle with main­taining artistic integ­rity while seeking main­stream suc­cess informs much of the nar­rative in Love Shines, leading to the enlist­ment of mega-producer Bob Rock to oversee the recording of Long Player Late Bloomer. Rock is primarily known as a hard rock/metal pro­ducer, based on his earlier work on a number of hugely suc­cessful albums from the likes of Bon Jovi, Motley Crue, and The Cult. Most not­ably, he was Metallica’s exclusive pro­ducer for 12 years and is more than used to working with an artist and having their every move filmed, as was the case for the fant­astic doc on the band, Some Kind Of Monster. In recent years, he’s diver­si­fied his scope to include acts such as Nina Gordon, The Tragically Hip, and Michael Bublé. Sexsmith hopes the pairing will raise his pro­file via the pure name recog­ni­tion that the pro­ducer brings, as well as increase album sales by way of the more com­mer­cially pal­at­able and highly pol­ished sound that Rock gets from the artists he works with. A stellar group of vet­eran musi­cians is brought on board to play on the album, including drummer Josh Freese (Nine Inch Nails, A Perfect Circle), gui­tarist Rusty Anderson (Paul McCartney), bassist Paul Bushnell (Elton John, Sugarland), and key­boardist Jamie Edwards (Aimee Mann).

Periodic and intro­spective glimpses back into Sexsmith’s upbringing reveal a shy young­ster who struggled with his con­fid­ence and endured abuse from bul­lies while growing up in St. Catharines, Ontario, even­tu­ally becoming a father at age 19 after get­ting his girl­friend preg­nant at the same moment he lost his vir­ginity. Certain mile­stones from Sexsmith’s career are shown, including a home movie scene where we see his par­ents, watching the 2002 Juno Awards on their home tele­vi­sion, become ecstatic over his win for Songwriter of the Year. In it, his mother is seen excitedly taking pic­tures of the TV screen as her son wins the award, appar­ently unclear of how a VCR works. It’s one of the fun­niest (and sweetest) moments in the film. “Funny” is not exactly a word anyone would asso­ciate with Sexsmith him­self. In his inter­views with Arrowsmith, he comes across as a fra­gile, depressed, and lacking con­fid­ence, which reminded me of a line from Bruce Springsteen’s “Better Days”: “It’s a sad man, my friend, who’s livin’ in his own skin and can’t stand the com­pany.” Most of the theatre audi­ence stuck around for the post-screening Q&A ses­sion with Sexsmith and Arrowsmith, and I must say I felt down­right hor­rible that I had to leave about halfway through to catch my last Hot Docs screening uptown. As I con­spicu­ously des­cended the stairs and walked across the front of the theatre, past the singer to the exit, I couldn’t help but worry that Sexsmith was tap­ping into his ever-present insec­ur­ities and won­dering why someone wasn’t inter­ested in hearing what he had to say. Does that make me nar­ciss­istic or empathetic?

Early indic­a­tions (it came out in March) indicate that Long Player Late Bloomer won’t propel Sexsmith to sig­ni­fic­antly new heights of com­mer­cial suc­cess. The album actu­ally turned out to be a hard sell to pro­spective music labels, with some iron­ic­ally rejecting it as being too main­stream. Still, it should improve on the sales num­bers from his last sev­eral albums and this film (which is now airing on HBO Canada) should help him find a new audi­ence. Whether it’s the excel­lent music, fin­an­cial struggles that one wouldn’t expect a “name” musi­cian to face, the strange dicho­tomy of a guy who hates the spot­light but per­forms in it for a living, or just the fact that Sexsmith makes for a great underdog story, non-fans will find plenty in Love Shines to hold their interest.

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I’ve been con­tacted by sev­eral Canadian short film­makers recently and it appears that there is a ver­it­able Canadian inva­sion of tiny films screening at this year’s South by Southwest Film Festival. If you’re attending, and even if you’re not, keep your eye out for the fol­lowing con­cen­trated shots of Canadian film­making genius.


Animal Control

Animal Control (Director: Kire Paputts): Before Sammy came along, all of Larry’s “friends” were roadkill animals he’d stuffed. When he finds a dog at the side of the road who’s not roadkill, his life changes dra­mat­ic­ally. Starring the great char­acter actor Julian Richings, a main­stay of Canadian inde­pendent film.

Official site of the film



Clear Blue

Clear Blue (Director: Lindsay Mackay): A young life­guard is unnerved by an older woman who can hold her breath for a very long time indeed.

Official site of the film



Mokhtar

Mokhtar (Director: Halima Ouardiri): Based on a true story, Mokhtar recounts the tale of a young boy who lives with his family of goat­herds in a remote Moroccan vil­lage. One day, the boy finds a fallen owl and decides to keep it, des­pite the fact that the owl is con­sidered a bad omen.

Official site of the film



National Parks Project

National Parks Project (Producers: Ryan J. Noth and Geoff Morrison): This ambi­tious pro­ject will even­tu­ally con­sist of 13 sep­arate short films made by various dir­ectors (including Jamie Travis and Zacharias Kunuk) and scored by a number of well-known Canadian bands. I’m not exactly sure what’s screening at SXSW but it is going to be accom­panied by a live score per­formed by the musi­cians. This one-time-only screening takes place on Friday March 18 at 12 noon at the Alamo Ritz 1. Unfortunately, that’s after I’ve come home.

Official site of the project

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Maelström

by James McNally on January 21, 2010

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)

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Guy Maddin

Sorry for the short notice, but just found out about this today (hat tip to my friend Judy Gombita). The University of Toronto is holding a weeklong series of events entitled, “Confession and the Cinema of Uninhibition” fea­turing films, lec­tures and a roundtable dis­cus­sion of the work of Winnipeg film­maker Guy Maddin, who will be in attend­ance at all events. Here’s the schedule:

  • Tuesday 12 January, 7:00pm, Innis College Town Hall — “May I Blow my Bugle Now? My Life in Clips” (Illustrated lec­ture by Guy Maddin on his major influ­ences and favourite films)
  • Wednesday 13 January, 7:00pm, Innis College Town Hall — “Machine Gun Lullabies and Short Sleep” (Guy Maddin illu­min­ates the short film as an artistic form)
  • Thursday 14 January, 7:00pm, Innis College Town Hall — My Winnipeg (Film screening with live nar­ra­tion by Guy Maddin)
  • Friday 15 January, 3:00pm, Jackman Humanities Building Room 100 — Roundtable Discussion of Guy Maddin’s films, chaired by Kay Armatage (Cinema Studies Institute)
  • Friday 15 January, 7:00pm, Innis College Town Hall — Brand Upon the Brain (Film screening with Guy Maddin in person)

All events are free and open to the public. The series is sponsored in part by U of T’s excel­lent Cinema Studies Student Union (CINSSU)

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Black Field

by James McNally on December 17, 2009 · 2 comments

in Film Festivals

Black Field
Note: Since the film hasn’t had a the­at­rical or DVD release yet, I had a hard time assigning this entry a cat­egory. I’ve decided to file it under Film Festivals since the film recently screened at the Vancouver International Film Festival, des­pite the fact that I didn’t see it there.

Black Field (Director: Danishka Esterhazy): I’ve been watching a lot of Canadian films of late. One of the side effects of my new job is that I get to watch some of the dozens of screeners that are sent to us. Most of them are ter­rible, and deserve no fur­ther com­ment from me. But once in a while, some­thing bubbles up that, while not per­fect, shows promise. Though I’m speaking com­pletely per­son­ally here, and not for my employer, I was impressed with this prairie ver­sion of a gothic romance.

After losing the rest of their family to typhoid, Maggie and her younger sister Rose are left to fend for them­selves on their farm in rural Manitoba. In the 1870s, this is pretty unusual, but they’re so isol­ated that hardly anyone is even aware of their exist­ence. And then one day a mys­ter­ious stranger arrives at the farm, asking for lodging until his exhausted horse can recover. French-Canadian David claims to be a trapper, but it’s clear he’s hiding some­thing. The sis­ters are both afraid and attracted. Quite apart from being someone new to talk to and look at, David’s phys­ic­ality and charm arouse the sexual desire that is dormant in older Maggie and just bud­ding in her young sister. Within a few days, it’s clear to Maggie that Rose and David are car­rying on a rela­tion­ship behind her back. When she demands that David leave, Rose slips away during the night with him. Since the sis­ters’ only horse died, Maggie is forced to walk 18 miles to the nearest farm to ask for help. The taciturn Ukrainian family nod sym­path­et­ic­ally at her story, but refuse to lend her a horse to give chase to the couple. Desperate, she steals one and heads off to track them down and bring Rose back.

What I liked about the film is that with such a poten­tially melo­dra­matic plot­line, Esterhazy keeps the emo­tion low-key, instead opting for a grit­tier approach, with suit­ably moody cine­ma­to­graphy instead of showy per­form­ances. Sara Canning (now star­ring in television’s The Vampire Diaries) is suit­ably con­flicted as Maggie, torn between her maternal feel­ings for Rose and wilder emo­tions like jeal­ousy and lust. The script keeps its focus on the tri­angle of Rose, David and Maggie, allowing the film to suc­ceed as a period piece without a huge budget. The rough edges show in the smaller per­form­ances, and in Ferron Guerreiro’s (who plays Rose) shaky Scottish accent, but they detract only a little from a solid film. Danishka Esterhazy is def­in­itely a Canadian dir­ector to watch.

Official site of the film

7/10(7/10)

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