toronto

Take This Waltz
Take This Waltz screens at part of the Gala Presentations pro­gramme at TIFF 2011.

Take This Waltz (Director: Sarah Polley): Sarah Polley’s second dir­ect­orial effort, Take This Waltz starts out looking very much like a romantic comedy, and des­pite efforts to change gears later, never seems to achieve the weighty ser­i­ous­ness it needs. The super­fi­cial sheen of coin­cid­ental meet­ings and deserted spaces for lovers to flirt or to talk make it hard to take what is essen­tially a tragic story very seriously.

Margot (Michelle Williams) and Lou (Seth Rogen) have been mar­ried for four years, and their domestic routine is affec­tionate and a bit eccentric. In other words, like most couples, they share their own private lan­guage and long-running jokes. In small doses, this can add a unique intimacy to an on-screeen rela­tion­ship (I really liked the way Rashida Jones and Paul Rudd bantered in I Love You, Man, for example.) But over­used, as it is in Polley’s film, it makes the char­ac­ters annoying and infantile. And per­haps that’s her point. Margot and Lou never really seem to have an adult conversation.

Which makes Margot’s slow-burning flir­ta­tion with neigh­bour Daniel (Luke Kirby) such a powderkeg. Confused by her desire for some­thing new, Margot never really artic­u­lates to either man what it is she wants. Daniel appears out of nowhere and promises…well, what? Escape? Novelty? Temporary passion?

It’s never clear what he wants out of this flir­ta­tion either. In one more mad­dening rom-com touch, this power­fully attractive man has no mate, and the per­fect strong-sensitive work life. He works as a rick­shaw driver (macho side) but is also secretly an artist (sens­itive side). He is, in fact, the per­fect man.

But Lou isn’t so bad. Sure, he refuses to make con­ver­sa­tion at their anniversary dinner (“we’re not going out to ‘catch up’!” he scoffs), but he loves her like any good hus­band, some­times dis­trac­tedly but never less than deeply.

We see no evid­ence that they’re actu­ally bad for each other (unlike Williams’ superior turn in last year’s Blue Valentine, a film I’m sure will be drawing com­par­isons), so we’re left to think that Margot is simply pur­suing some­thing new and shiny.

When it turns out that it’s really Lou who learns from the affair, it makes it all the more frus­trating. On the cusp of having their first real on-screen grown-up con­ver­sa­tion, he says, “You didn’t want to have this dis­cus­sion before. Let’s not have it now.” It’s one of sev­eral moments when important things need to be said. And we don’t get to hear them. It robs the nar­rative of the angry and hurt con­front­a­tion that not only our couple, but the audi­ence, needs.

A series of word­less (of course) mont­ages near the end were almost laugh­able in their unreality, but when I wondered if Polley was pos­iting them as some sort of fantasy sequence, I looked back to the begin­ning of the film, and real­ized the whole begin­ning was equally phoney.

It’s painful to write those words, because I had very high hopes indeed for the film. And there are many things to like. My ini­tial fear that Seth Rogen would be the weak link was unfounded; his per­form­ance, in fact, felt the strongest of the three main char­ac­ters. And the cine­ma­to­graphy, by vet­eran Luc Montpellier (Cairo Time, Polley’s pre­vious film Away From Her), is gor­geous, lending Toronto a candy-coloured dream palette. It’s Polley’s script that fails for me. Perhaps she should have brought in Leonard Cohen (whose song “Take This Waltz” provided the film’s title if not its theme) for a rewrite.

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Sarah Polley on the set of Take This Waltz, August 2010

So, if you haven’t been trapped under some­thing heavy, you’ll know that the Toronto International Film Festival announced the first batch of films screening at the 2011 fest­ival yes­terday. It’s all over the place, so instead of just adding another copy-and-paste listing to the existing noise, I thought I’d begin looking at some of the films them­selves. Granted, since many will be world premi­eres, there may not be a lot of inform­a­tion, but I think this could be kind of fun. It will cer­tainly build my own anti­cip­a­tion for the fest­ival, which runs from September 8–18. Hard to believe this will be my 17th year attending!

One of the first sur­prises for me was that the opening night slot didn’t go to Sarah Polley’s new film, Take This Waltz. Her dir­ect­orial debut Away From Her screened as a Gala at the fest­ival back in 2006 and went on to play numerous other fest­ivals, even scooping a number of awards for Polley and her star Julie Christie. The opening night slot has often (though not always) gone to a Canadian pro­duc­tion, and after the roundly-derided Score: A Hockey Musical opened last year’s fest­ival, it would have been nice to see Polley given an oppor­tunity to spot­light her film here in her hometown. Alas, that was not to be, with Davis Guggenheim’s U2 doc From the Sky Down shoul­dering her aside. But I’m curious about her new film, and hope it won’t be over­shad­owed by the musical behemoth that is U2 and the sideshow they are sure to bring to town.

I’ll admit to knowing very little about Take This Waltz until a few days ago. The TIFF syn­opsis is vague: “a bit­ter­sweet story about a mar­ried woman strug­gling to choose between her hus­band and a man she’s just met.” Canadian dis­trib­utor Mongrel Media’s descrip­tion is better:

When Margot (Michelle Williams), 28, meets Daniel (Luke Kirby), their chem­istry is intense and imme­diate. But Margot sup­presses her sudden attrac­tion; she is hap­pily mar­ried to Lou (Seth Rogen), a cook­book writer. When Margot learns that Daniel lives across the street from them, the cer­tainty about her domestic life shat­ters. She and Daniel steal moments throughout the steaming Toronto summer, their erot­i­cism heightened by their restraint. Swelteringly hot, bright and col­ourful like a bowl of fruit, Take This Waltz leads us, laughing, through the familiar, but uncharted ques­tion of what long-term rela­tion­ships do to love, sex, and our images of ourselves.

And I have to admit that for me, the casting is what’s making it inter­esting. I’ve abso­lutely loved just about everything Michelle Williams has done. Last year’s double shot of Blue Valentine and Meek’s Cutoff made me ever more con­fident that she’s just get­ting started. The poten­tially wrenching storyline is lightened con­sid­er­ably by the casting of Rogen and Silverman, as well as by the film’s day-glo palette, which makes this an intriguing proposition.

The title of the film is from a Leonard Cohen song, which is based on the poem “Little Viennese Waltz” by Federico García Lorca. Perhaps the lyrics will give us some clues:

Now in Vienna there are ten pretty women. There’s a shoulder where Death comes to cry. There’s a lobby with nine hun­dred win­dows. There’s a tree where the doves go to die. There’s a piece that was torn from the morning, and it hangs in the Gallery of Frost. Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay. Take this waltz, take this waltz, take this waltz with the clamp on its jaws.

I want you, I want you, I want you on a chair with a dead magazine. In the cave at the tip of the lily, in some hallway where love’s never been. On a bed where the moon has been sweating, in a cry filled with foot­steps and sand. Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay. Take this waltz, take this waltz, take its broken waist in your hand.

This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz. With its very own breath of brandy and Death. Dragging its tail in the sea.

There’s a con­cert hall in Vienna where your mouth had a thou­sand reviews. There’s a bar where the boys have stopped talking. They’ve been sen­tenced to death by the blues. Ah, but who is it climbs to your pic­ture with a gar­land of freshly cut tears? Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay. Take this waltz, take this waltz, take this waltz, it’s been dying for years.

There’s an attic where chil­dren are playing, where I’ve got to lie down with you soon, in a dream of Hungarian lan­terns, in the mist of some sweet after­noon. And I’ll see what you’ve chained to your sorrow, all your sheep and your lilies of snow. Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay. Take this waltz. Take this waltz with its “I’ll never forget you, you know!”

And I’ll dance with you in Vienna. I’ll be wearing a river’s dis­guise. The hyacinth wild on my shoulder, my mouth on the dew of your thighs. And I’ll bury my soul in a scrap­book, with the pho­to­graphs there, and the moss. And I’ll yield to the flood of your beauty, my cheap violin and my cross. And you’ll carry me down on your dan­cing to the pools that you lift on your wrist. O my love, o my love. Take this waltz, take this waltz. It’s yours now. It’s all that there is.

Will this end up being a frothy candy apple of a movie, or will there be a worm at the core? With Polley at the helm, I’m con­fident we’ll get some­thing mem­or­able, espe­cially if she’s read her Lorca and listened to Mr. Cohen.

SCREENINGS:

  • Saturday September 10, 9:30pm — Roy Thomson Hall (PREMIUM)
  • Sunday September 11, 12:00pm — Ryerson

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Clubland

by Jay Kerr on October 1, 2009

in Documentaries,Television

Clubland

Clubland (Director: Eric Geringas): In the heart of Toronto’s enter­tain­ment dis­trict you’ll find 60 night clubs and 25 bars packed into 1.5 square kilo­metres. On the week­ends, this part of the city becomes “Clubland.” Over 50,000 people crowd the streets and line up to get into some of North America’s hot­test clubs.

Eric Geringas’ film takes us behind the scenes and into the VIP lounges where club­bers and pro­moters let loose. The clubs open at 10:00 PM and close at 2:00 AM. With only 4 hours to serve alcohol, it’s a race to make money and serve as many drinks as possible.

When 2:00 AM rolls around, the club­bers pour out into the streets where the noise and con­ges­tion wake the neigh­bours. Fueled with liquid courage, young men routinely engage in fist fights. While the police are busy making arrests, club rev­elers are passing out on the sidewalk.

The film sets up local res­id­ents, politi­cians and police against the club owners, who feel they have a right to be there. The clubs provide tax dol­lars to the city and they were there before the condos went up. The local res­id­ents com­plain about the noise and the violence.

For many, Clubland will provide an inter­esting glimpse into Toronto’s club scene and the con­tro­versy that sur­rounds it. The voi­ceover nar­ra­tion is a bit dis­tracting and makes the film sound like a really bad beer com­mer­cial at times. Aside from that the film is well-produced and presents argu­ments from each side fairly.

The eco­nomic con­tri­bu­tion from the condos far out­weighs the tax dol­lars that the clubs can gen­erate. The film con­cludes that polit­ical pres­sure is for­cing an increasing number of night clubs to close while the con­struc­tion of more condos is trans­forming the neighbourhood.

If you missed Clubland at the 2009 Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival then you can see it in Canada on Global Television on Friday, October 2 at 8:00 PM ET/PT. In Winnipeg and Regina, the doc­u­mentary film will air at 7:00 PM.

Official site of the film

7/10(7/10)

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The Last Pogo

The Last Pogo (1978, Director: Colin Brunton): In 1978, I was too young to get into bars, but I was a huge fan of punk rock. Of course, at that young age, I thought it all came from England. It wasn’t until a year or two later that I got into a punk/rockabilly band from Hamilton called Teenage Head. But in 1978, they head­lined a rather infamous gig at The Legendary Horseshoe Tavern on Queen Street West in Toronto. Concert pro­moters Gary Topp and Gary Cormier (“The Two Garys”) were well-known for pro­moting the best new music, and were booking punk bands into the Horseshoe from the begin­ning. But by December 1978, they’d lost the lease and were set to move to a new venue, the Edge. They decided to stage a going-away bash with all their favourite local bands, and The Last Pogo is the visual record of that wild night. Featuring The Scenics, The Cardboard Brains, The Mods, The Ugly, The Viletones, and Teenage Head, it was a legendary show which ended with the cops breaking up a near-riot. The film had not been screened the­at­ric­ally in 30 years, so I was really looking for­ward to the screening (part of the annual North by Northeast Music and Film Festival), and Brunton had prom­ised that sev­eral spe­cial guests would be in attendance.

On my way to the screening, I had to pass by the Much Music stu­dios, which for some unknown reason were sur­rounded by screaming teenage girls. Queen Street was closed off and there was a stage set up as well. Before long, some band of scantily-clad women jumped onstage and sang some for­get­table ditty while shaking their junk in per­fectly cho­reo­graphed time. It was ironic that on my way to see some punk his­tory, I had to be sub­jected to some of the unspeak­able hor­rors of pop­ular music.

I took my seat at the NFB cinema behind a group of rowdy fifty-something punk ladies, who pro­ceeded to hoot and howl all through the film itself. It was rather dis­turbing. The spe­cial guests included Dave Quinton who drummed for The Scenics and later for the Dead Boys, Vince Carlucci from The Cardboard Brains, and a few others, but alas, no one from Teenage Head. And the film itself, though a treas­ured doc­u­ment of the event, proved to be slightly dis­ap­pointing. The reason is that as the con­cert wore on, the club reached and then exceeded its capa­city, and just before Hamilton’s finest took the stage, they were noti­fied that they were only per­mitted to play one song and then the police would be shut­ting the place down. Understandably, the place went nuts, and so the footage from their per­form­ance isn’t the greatest. I even think the audio is out of sync.

Interestingly enough, Teenage Head would be at the centre of another riot a few years later, and for the same reasons. When they played the Ontario Place Forum, hun­dreds of fans were locked out after the venue reached capa­city, and the res­ulting riot caused the man­age­ment of Ontario Place to ban rock con­certs for many years. Luckily, I was pre­pared and had arrived early. It was one of only two times I saw the band live. The other was at my high school, and was for­get­table because in my excite­ment, I’d con­sumed an entire mickey of rye, became sep­ar­ated from my friends, and peed my pants. I was so mor­ti­fied that I ran home, missing most of the show.

In hap­pier news, dir­ector Brunton has spent the past two years filming and editing an expanded ver­sion of the film, to be called The Last Pogo Jumps Again. He’s revis­ited many of the players from that night and I’m eagerly looking for­ward to the film’s release, tent­at­ively planned for Hot Docs 2009. It was also through him that I found out that writer Liz Worth has written what looks to be the defin­itive his­tory of punk in Toronto. Treat Me Like Dirt: An Oral History of Punk in Toronto and Beyond, 1976–1981 should be released this year. I’ve been wanting to write this book since reading Legs McNeil and Gillian McCain’s incred­ible Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk, but at least now I’ll be able to read it.

After the screening, I was hoping there would be a Q&A with the dir­ector and maybe some of the par­ti­cipants, but no such luck. I was able to speak briefly with both Colin Brunton and Liz Worth, and hope to con­duct some short email inter­views with them in the next sev­eral months.

P.S. It seems strange that it was at this very time and place last year that I was seeing Nightclubbing, another doc­u­ment of those years which is being made into a longer ret­ro­spective documentary.

Official site of the film

7/10(7/10)

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Let's All Hate Toronto

Let’s All Hate Toronto (Directors: Albert Nerenberg, Rob Spence, Canada, 2006): Let’s All Hate Toronto premiered tonight to a sold out audi­ence at the Bloor Cinema in, well, Toronto. There was quite a buzz around this film. I was eager to see what people around the country had to say about Toronto and why they dis­liked it so much.

The film fol­lows Mr. Toronto who travels across Canada to find out why everyone hates Toronto. To encourage feed­back, Toronto Appreciation Days are ‘staged’ in public places which lead to some funny situations.

By far, the fun­niest scene occurs in Edmonton last year, when the Edmonton Oilers made a run for the Stanley Cup. A drunken fan is waving a Toronto Appreciation Day banner. When he real­izes what he has in his hands, he drops the banner as if it were on fire.

The film tries too hard to be funny and it failed to keep my interest throughout. Maybe I was turned off by the staged events and some of the phoni­ness. The Mr. Toronto schtick gets tired halfway through and a lot of the footage is shown again and again.

The best line in the film is “Toronto is like New York on dial-up”. Having been to New York I couldn’t agree more. Toronto is like a vil­lage com­pared to New York.

As a Torontonian I had a very strong interest in seeing this film but when it comes to film­making, it’s a pretty average doc­u­mentary. If I could have changed the channel, I would have flipped to some­thing else.

I hate to be neg­ative about a local film because I know how much work and effort goes into making one but Let’s All Hate Toronto just didn’t do it for me. It raised a lot of inter­esting things about Toronto but overall it wasn’t com­pel­ling enough for this viewer.

UPDATE: The film is having its offi­cial “premiere” at 9:30pm on Thursday June 28 at Toronto’s own Bloor Cinema (Bloor and Bathurst) and will play there through July 3.

Official site for the film

Mr. Toronto’s blog for the Toronto Appreciation Days tour

4/10(4/10)

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