TIFF '17 Day 9: The Lightning Round

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

When a movie falls through the cracks, The Canadian Crew catches it in a yearly section called The Lightning Round.

Disobedience (UK, 2017): Understated drama about two women coming to terms with their sexuality within a Jewish Orthodox community. It doesn’t obey any of the clichés this subgenre has us used to.

Downsizing (USA, 2017): By far director Alexander Payne’s worst film to date, it has plots for about five movies, all undercooked.

Oh, Lucy! (Japan/USA, 2017: Slight and tonally awkward. I wasn’t expecting Josh Harnett (of all people) to pop up in a Japanese movie.

The Crescent (Canada, 2017): Imagine The Others, but boring and badly acted. It looks otherworldly, but desperately needed a better plot to go with the visuals.

The Summit (Argentina, 2017): There are two plots in this film: Political intrigue among Latin American countries, and the daughter of a president acting crazy. The former is far better than the later, but the movie focuses on the wrong one.

Cocaine Prison (Bolivia, 2017): Underdeveloped country chooses to punish drug traffic small offenders over the infinitely more powerful kingpins. It personalizes the problem without forgetting the context. Not bad.

Princesita (Chile, 2017): Twelve year-old girl lives in a cult, gets a taste of the outer world, wants out. Noteworthy allegory of the oppression of the patriarchy, with a truly horrifying, artfully shot sexual violence sequence.

Let the Corpses Tan (France, 2017): The story of a robbery gone wrong embodies everything wrong with the Midnight Madness program this year. Weird for weird sake, barely competent filmmaking and ultimately, a pointless enterprise.

mother! (USA, 2017): Masterpiece. We’ll be talking about it for years.

Happy End (France, 2017): Michael Haneke’s weakest effort in years. Family alienation was better dealt with in Caché.

Jim & Andy: The Great Beyond (USA, 2017): A glorified behind-the-scenes doc from the time Jim Carrey interpreted Andy Kaufman in Man on the Moon, this doc has great footage but loses its way trying to pretend is deeper that it actually is.

The Shape of Water (USA, 2017): A beautiful, dark fairy tale from Guillermo del Toro featuring a man-fish and Sally Hawkins. It certainly has its virtues, but I was less blown away than most people here.

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri (USA, 2017): Martin McDonagh relies less on his sharp dialogue and more on his character building skills in this black comedy with a heart. Frances McDormand and Sam Rockwell use their well-honed personas to great effect.

The China Hustle (USA, 2017): Apparently, investing in China is a terrible idea. Dense but important doc.

Borg/McEnroe (Sweden, 2017): In theory opposites, the cool-as-ice Swede and the hothead American came from the same place. Well-made and ntertaining, although I ended up wanting to watch a Vitas Gerulaitis biopic.

Revenge (France, 2017): We live in 2017, do we really need to take ideas from I Spit in Your Grave? This is not feminism, it’s exploitation disguised as feminism.

TIFF 2017 overall: Three stars. The movies were average, but the parties were fantastic.

TIFF ’17 Day 8: The Death of Stalin, Professor Marston and the Wonder Women, Pyewacket

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

The Death of Stalin (UK/USA, 2017. Dir: Armando Ianucci): Wondering what would be of Armando Ianucci after leaving Veep? Look no further. The brain behind The Thick of It and On the Loop, is back to mercilessly mock a new institution, in this case, the Communist Party leadership and their power squabble following the passing of Comrade Joseph Stalin.

The best positioned to replace the mustached genocidal maniac is Lavrently Beria (Simon Russell Beale), chief of the secret police apparatus. Beria’s callous behavior rubs the rest of the Stalin administration the wrong way and soon a team of rivals targets him, although inner struggles make the task more difficult than it should.

While the plot sounds serious and the body count is considerable, Ianucci’s scalpel-sharp dialogue and some brilliant slapstick makes The Death of Stalin the funniest film of the festival by a mile. Actors not known for generating laughs like Steve Buscemi and Jason Isaacs demonstrate killer comic timing, supported by experts in the field Jeffrey Tambor and Michael Palin. Everything about this movie works, particularly depicting the dictator’s inner circle as a frat house. Hilarious and unsettling. Four planets/dogs/stars. Distribution: Presumably theatrical.

Professor Marston and the Wonder Women (USA, 2017. Dir: Angela Robinson): This is the year of Wonder Woman: Never mind the two DC Comics film with the Amazonian at the forefront, here comes a biopic about her creator and the two women who inspired him.

William and Elizabeth Marston (Luke Evans and Rebecca Hall) are a couple of academics focused on the female mind. Rational to the extreme, their relationship is tested when William becomes infatuated with Olive (Bella Heathcote, The Neon Demon), his teaching assistant. Olive is not your average college student. Her open mind and sweet disposition soon turns her into a component of the Marston family. As they explore the limits of their polyamorous bond, the idea of a powerful woman with superpowers and a taste for bondage begins to take shape.

Professor Marston is an effective feminist film that benefits from strong turns by Evans, Hall and Heathcote. That said, it tends to state the obvious, as everybody feels the need to verbalize their feelings at all times. Regardless, it’s worth your time. Three planets/dogs/stars. Distribution: Opens October 13th.

Pyewacket (Canada, 2017. Dir: Adam MacDonald): Pyewacket is the kind of movie that makes you wonder why would Telefilm support this (shades of the unwatchable Teen Lust). Reportedly a horror flick, Pyewacket is at heart a film student short stretched into 90 minutes. And that’s the least of its problems.

A goth teen who dabbles in witchcraft (Nicole Muñoz, in a less than stellar turn) gets mad at her grieving mother (Laurie Holden, The Walking Dead) and conjures a demon to get her killed. Eventually (and much later than you would think), the daughter-of-the-year comes back to her senses, but undoing the spell may be more difficult than expected.

I don’t know what I found more annoying: The cliché dialogue (teen angst has never been this flat), the across-the-board terrible acting (Laurie Holden excepted, despite her character’s inconsistency), the belief inexplicable sudden noises are scary per se, or the silly conclusion. Pyewacket is a step back for Backwoods director Adam MacDonald. One star. Distribution: Presumably theatrical.

TIFF '17 Day 7: Suburbicon, Eye on Juliet

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Suburbicon (USA, 2017. Dir: George Clooney): There is no way Suburbicon could be considered an average film. It’s topical (fear of the “other” prevents us from noticing the true monsters in our society) and is directed by proven commodity George Clooney, from a script from the Coen Brothers. In spite of it all, it doesn’t add to more than the sum of its parts.

Matt Damon taps into his dark self as Gardner, a presumably average suburban dad in the 50’s. His home is invaded by a couple of thugs and his wheelchair-bound wife (Julianne Moore) is an unintended casualty of the break-in (or is she?). Meanwhile, their entire neighborhood is up in arms because a black family has moved in, oblivious to the horrors taking place a few doors down.

The film could be described as a mix of Fargo and Blood Simple by the way of Tim Burton. It’s undeniably entertaining but is hard to shake the feeling we have seen all this before. Furthermore, Clooney’s films are often staged to a fault and this one feels particularly airless. Oscar Isaac as a wily claims investigator provides the one breath of fresh air in this otherwise hermetic cautionary tale. Three stars. Distribution in Canada: Theatrical.

Eye on Juliet (Canada, 2017. Dir: Kim Nguyen): After the hard-hitting Rebelle and the fierce Two Lovers and a Bear, it’s no surprise writer/director Kim Nguyen has chosen a gentler piece as a follow-up. Eye on Juliet is a romantic drama in which technology acts as an accessory to amorous pursuits in unexpected ways.

Recently dumped by his girlfriend, Gordon (Joe Cole, Green Room) is on the brink of a nervous breakdown. His behavior has started to affect his job operating security robots remotely. In the midst of his pity party, Gordon becomes smitten with a young Arabic woman who hangs out near the pipeline his bots are protecting. The girl’s parents have arranged her wedding, unaware that she has a boyfriend and hopes to escape to Europe with him. Particularly susceptible to love stories, Gordon attempts to help them, but his involvement causes more trouble than good.

Even though the premise has potential and the visuals rise to the occasion, Eye on Juliet leans heavily on narrative clichés and corniness. The “growing tension” hardly registers and the final five minutes are blatantly borrowed from a 90’s travelogue classic. The film is not without merits, but it could have used a better story. Two and a half stars. Distribution in Canada: Theatrical.

TIFF ’17 Day 6: A Fantastic Woman, The Disaster Artist

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

A Fantastic Woman (Chile, 2017. Dir: Sebastián Lelio): One of the two films Chilean filmmaker Sebastián Lelio is presenting at TIFF, A Fantastic Woman is an intimate portrait of three particularly bad days in the life of Marina (star-making turn by Daniela Vega), a transgender singer.

Orlando, Marina’s much older partner, has died of an aneurysm, but she is not allowed to grief. Marina must face mistrust and prejudice at every level, as if she was responsible for Orlando’s death.

A Fantastic Woman is a superb character study and a severe indictment of a society that’s more hypocritical than open-minded. The film does falter every so often (I call for a moratorium of sex dungeons in movies), but overall it underlines Lelio’s talent to write female characters. Considering Gloria, A Fantastic Woman and the upcoming Disobedience, the Chilean director is poised to give Almodóvar a run for his money. Four stars. Distribution: Theatrical.

The Disaster Artist (USA, 2017. Dir: James Franco): A dramatization of the behind-the-scenes of The Room (the infamous cult classic renown only by its awfulness) is a minefield of outlandishness: If the subject itself is already laughable, how could you top it? Can you impersonate The Room star/writer/director Tommy Wiseau without turning him into a caricature?

Director James Franco doesn’t quite succeed at turning The Room into a triumph of the human spirit, but damn if he doesn’t come close. The Disaster Artist approaches the figure of Tommy Wiseau sideways, through his sidekick (and the author of the book that inspired the movie) Greg Sestero. Originally struggling actors from San Francisco, Tommy and Greg decide to try their luck in L.A. After a number of discouraging encounters and Tommy’s desire to be cast as the hero, not the villain, Wiseau decides to make his own movie. This, in spite of being a terrible actor, writer and not having directed a thing in his life. The rest is movie history.

The film doesn’t even try to respond the most pressing questions about Wiseau (first of all, where does he get the money from). Instead, it focuses on the friendship of Greg and Tommy. Wiseau is strange, difficult and prone to outbursts, and Greg enables him for longer than expected. The film (and The Room itself) hints at a history of betrayal that explains Wiseau’s behavior, but doesn’t dig further. The Disaster Artist is undeniably fun, but just skin deep. Three stars. Distribution: Theatrical.

TIFF ’17 Day 5: Breathe, You Disappear

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Breathe (UK, 2017. Dir: Andy Serkis): Another one of the many films about physical disabilities in this edition of TIFF, there is nothing intrinsically wrong about Breathe. It’s just that it plays it way too safe and doesn’t break any new ground. One doesn’t have to look further than The Theory of Everything to find the same old beats.

At least Breathe covers the getting-to-know-you portion of the story in the first few minutes. Robin (Andrew Garfield, The Social Network) and Diana (Claire Foy, The Crown) are an adventurous couple who can’t be constrained by walls. Unfortunately, Robin gets polio in Africa and loses all mobility and the capacity to breath on his own.

The once outdoorsy Brit falls into a depression that forces his wife and friends to extreme efforts to give him at least a semblance of a normal life. It’s the beginning of a journey that would lead to the invention of the Cavendish chair, a conception that improves the quality of life of extremely disabled patients to unheard degree.

Andy Serkis’ first directorial effort is traditional to a fault. His sole focus seems to be to move the plot forward, in circumstances the best moments of Breathe take place whenever he takes the foot off the gas. The cinematography is disproportionally superior to the story, not a surprise since Robert Richardson (Scorsese and Tarantino’s go-to guy) is behind the camera. It’s a good movie to take your grandma, but that’s about it. Two and a half stars. Distribution: Theatrical.

You Disappear (Denmark/Sweden, 2017. Dir: Peter Schønau Fog): The embodiment of the ‘brainy’ movie, You Disappear uses procedural tropes to explore the eternal conflict of free will versus determinism.

The film uses a fragmented timeline to tell the story of the Hallings, a marriage enduring one crisis after another. First Frederik (Nikolaj Lie Kaas, Angels & Demons) is diagnosed with a brain tumor, which may or may not be affecting his behavior. Not much later, he is accused of embezzlement. His defense argues temporary insanity due to impulse control disorder, but the condition is extremely difficult to prove.

The narrator in You Disappear is Frederik’s wife, Mia (Trine Dyrholm, The Commune), often the victim of Frederick’s misbehavior. Her voiceover focuses on the undependability of the human brain (reality vs. perception), and it’s as dense as fascinating. The kicker is that Mia herself may not be the most reliable of witnesses.

The obvious intelligence that went into the script also creates certain distance between the film and the viewer. In spite of the cast’s efforts to humanize the proceedings, You Disappear remains a high density enterprise. A rewarding one though. Three stars. Distribution: TBD.

TIFF ’17 Day 4: The Square, Brad’s Status, A Worthy Companion

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

The Square (Sweden, 2017. Dir: Ruben Ostlund): The winner of the Palm D’Or is more often than not a TIFF staple. The Square is a comedy brimming of novel ideas and topics, so much so that after a while the richness becomes counterproductive. Still, the Swedish flick is years-light ahead of your average Hollywood comedy.

At the center of The Square lies Christian (Claes Bang), the chief curator of a modern art museum in Stockholm. Christian must juggle several crises simultaneously, chief of them all, the need for funding and attention. A personal hiccup (a robbery) sends his carefully balanced existence into a tailspin

Christian’s woes are just an excuse for director Ruben Ostlund (Force Majeure) to explore the growing distance between the elites and the common man. The film also tackles the perennial matter of what constitutes art. Ostlund doesn’t venture an answer, but has a good time mocking the question.

The Square is a bit too cynical for its own good, but reaffirms my belief that the future of cinema can be found in Scandinavia. Three and a half stars. Distribution in Canada: Theatrical.

Brad’s Status (USA, 2017. Dir: Mike White): Once could easily dismiss Brad’s Status as a white privilege dramedy unaware of how conceited it is. Alas, the film touches on a number of topics that ring true.

The Brad in question (Ben Stiller) is a middle age Gen-Xer embarking on a college tour with his teenage son. The occasion becomes a dark night of the soul for Brad, as he reminisces about his own days as a student and how much better his then friends have fared in life.

Easily Mike White’s best since Chuck and Buck, Brad’s Status rings true more often than not, and even dares to offer answers to middle age ennui. It’s also kinder to Gen-Y than most films attempting to portrait millennials. Definitely an indulgent experience, but a satisfactory one. Three and a half stars. Distribution in Canada: Theatrical.

A Worthy Companion (Canada, 2017. Dir: Carlos Sánchez, Jason Sánchez): Not a fantastic crop of Canadian films this year at TIFF. A Worthy Companion at least has an intriguing premise, mangled by a script stripped of all common sense and an over-the-top performance by Evan Rachel Wood.

The Westworld lead is Laura, a troubled woman with more issues than the Encyclopedia Britannica. She is an accountant/cleaning lady who becomes obsessed with a bookish teen girl for some reason (I’m not being glib, there isn’t anything special about their relationship).

Laura convinces the teenager in question, Eva (Julia Sarah Stone, Wet Bum), to run away from home and move in with her. After about a hundred red flags, Eva realizes there may be something seriously wrong with Laura, but just as she is considering escaping, the Stockholm syndrome kicks in.

A Worthy Companion is so obsessed with being edgy, it forgets to build mildly cohesive characters. Chief among all is Eva, whose behavior defies basic self-preservation (Julia Sarah Stone looks lost through the entire movie). Not only Evan Rachel Wood chews scenery like is nobody’s business, her character’s psychological issues are not even consistent with one another. Overall, the film has train wreck qualities that make it watchable, if just barely. Two stars. Distribution in Canada: Likely theatrical.

TIFF ’17 Day 3: The Children Act, The Ritual, Porcupine Lake

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

The Children Act (UK, 2017. Dir: Richard Eyre): Based on a novel by Ian McEwan, The Children Act is not only a thorough character piece about a judge whose rigidity renders her unable to deal with life’s curveballs. It’s also a fantastic showcase for Emma Thompson, too long stuck in supporting roles or as the love interest of some old fogey (often Dustin Hoffman).

Thompson is the Honorable Fiona Maye. Her specialty are medical cases that require an speedy process. Her job is fascinating but has taken a toll on her marriage to Jack (Stanley Tucci). The same week Jack announces his intention to have an affair, Fiona must rule on a case that pits the parents of a teen with leukemia against the hospital he is held at. Their religion forbids transfusions, even though the kid desperately needs one. Fiona’s job begins to bleed into her personal life and vice versa in unexpected ways.

Adapted to the screen by McEwan himself, The Children Act is predominantly a character study with a captivating plot lurking underneath. Dialogue and subtext are a delight, reminiscent of also superb 45 Years (heartbreak happens at every age). Tucci’s part is somewhat underwritten and the third act abandons the sobriety that makes the piece so compelling, but overall is a very relatable piece. Three and a half stars. Distribution in Canada: Theatrical.

The Ritual (UK, 2016. Dir: David Bruckner): Modeled after The Wicker Man and, to a lesser degree, The Blair Witch Project, The Ritual stands slightly above films with similar influences on the strength of the acting and psychological undertones.

Following the violent death of the leader of their pack, four friends decide to honor his wish of spending the holidays hiking the Northern Sweden highlands. The already harebrained idea (all four are city folk) becomes deathly when the group becomes the target of an unseen forest dweller.

The film is at its best when dealing with the unraveling psyche of the foursome. The main focus is on Luke (Rafe Spall, Roadies) who nurses a massive case of survivor’s guilt (their friend’s death was partially his fault). The Ritual is not nearly as effective when the force stalking them goes from abstract to all too real. Two and a half stars. Distribution in Canada: Likely theatrical.

Porcupine Lake (Canada, 2017. Dir: Ingrid Veninger): Ingrid Veninger’s most traditional film to date is a coming-of-age story that unfolds during the dog days of summer. City girl Bea (Charlotte Salisbury) is the dutiful daughter to a couple on the verge of breaking up. In dire need of a friend her own age, Bea connects with Kate (Lucinda Armstrong Hall), a townie with her fair share of issues at home.

The girls become fast friends and find solace on each other’s company, to the point of tentatively exploring their sexuality. It doesn’t reach Heavenly Creatures territory, but comes close.

Despite the stilted dialogue and some less than polished performances, Porcupine Lake is a charming flick that captures the hazy transition from childhood to puberty, as well as the horrifying realization that adulthood can be pretty ugly. Worth a look. Two and a half stars. Distribution in Canada: Likely theatrical.

TIFF ’17 Day 2: Stronger, The Insult, What Will People Say

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Stronger (USA, 2017. Dir: David Gordon Green): This year’s second feature inspired by the 2013 Boston Marathon bombings approaches the matter from an individual perspective. The film zeroes on Jeff Bouman (Jake Gyllenhaal), a flaky Bostonian who loses both his legs in the blast. The film covers Bouman’s rehabilitation and his relationship with his ex-girlfriend (Tatiana Maslany), who was the reason Jeff was at the race in the first place.

Even though the direction and acting are top notch (although the Boston-personality traits border the caricature), Stronger is a very standard affair: Every beat can be seen from a mile away. The movie hints at the emptiness of platitudes like “Boston Strong”, but doesn’t have the dramatic courage to quite go there. The most subdued characters (Maslany, Carlos Sanz as the man who saved Bouman’s life) are the brightest ones.

Stronger also flirts with the notion that no matter what major event, sooner or later people return to their default settings (once a screw-up, always a screw-up). Predictably, it folds on itself by the third act. All things considered, as meat-and-potatoes dramas go, you could do a lot worse. Two and a half stars. Distribution in Canada: Theatrical.

The Insult (Lebanon/France, 2016. Dir: Ziad Doueiri): A classic festival film (a movie that thrives in this kind of environment, but is unlikely to flourish outside), The Insult deals with a specific rift in the Arab world, one that doesn’t get much attention: The strain between Christians and Palestinian refugees in Lebanon.

Tony is a mechanic with a simmering resentment against Palestinians, which flares up when an illegal contractor starts working on his block. A spat over a drain escalates when the worker insults Tony, the mechanic responds with a racial slur, and the contractor punches him in the ribs. Soon the justice system, the press and even the President of Lebanon get involved.

Despite some minor issues (the score is -to put it charitably- blunt; one of the twists is soap opera-worthy), The Insult remains firmly grounded in reality, even as the squabble spirals out of control. The approach to the matter is refreshingly earnest, even when the conflict is ripe for cynicism and irony. I was slightly distracted by the very attractive actress playing Tony’s wife (she is the spitting image of Emily Ratajkowski), but that’s on me.

Three and a half stars. Distribution in Canada: Likely theatrical.

What Will People Say (Norway/Germany/Sweden. Dir: Iram Haq): Scandinavian cinema tends to look at the subject du jour directly, never mind how controversial it may be. What Will People Say is a veritable minefield, but writer/director Iram Haq’s vision doesn’t compromise… until the last three minutes of the movie

Nisha (newcomer Maria Mozhdah) is the eldest daughter of a traditional Pakistani family living in Norway. While respectful of her heritage, Nisha has grown as an average Westerner teen. Her two worlds come into conflict when her father finds a boy in her bedroom. Shunned by her family and community, Nisha is forcefully relocated to Pakistan. Her attempts to reach out for help are regularly thwarted by her relatives and a misplaced sense of loyalty.

Regardless of the number of setbacks Nisha must face, What Will People Say never feels like misery porn. In fact, it’s gripping. Every mishap, every poor decision is firmly rooted in reality, which is why the denouement stroke me as false. On a bad movie, I wouldn’t mind. The problem is that What Will People Say flirts with greatness. Four planets/dogs/stars.  Distribution in Canada: TBD.

TIFF ’17 Day 1: Call Me by Your Name, The Killing of a Sacred Deer, Loveless

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Call Me by Your Name (Italy/France, 2017. Dir: Luca Guadagnino): How about a stone-cold masterpiece to kick off TIFF’s coverage this year. A filmmaker who has already shown considerable potential (I Am Love, A Bigger Splash), Luca Guadagnino finds a new gear with the thorough, compelling coming-of-age drama Call Me by Your Name.

Set in Northern Italy in 1983, the film revolves around Elio (star-making turn by Timothée Chalamet), a well-liked teen and beloved only son of an archeologist and a translator. The idyllic boredom of summer in Italy becomes disrupted by the arrival of Oliver (Armie Hammer), an American scholar in town to intern for Elio’s dad. Oliver’s presence triggers unknown feelings in Elio, who tentatively begins pursuing the American, while simultaneously exploring his sexuality with a girl his own age.

There is no high drama in Call Me by Your Name, just a teen assimilating new experiences and shaping his personality accordingly. The film (adapted by James Ivory) is beyond lovely and methodical, covering every aspect of the life of an adolescent at a critical moment of his growth. True to form, the climax is as low impact as a loving father comparing his own experiences to his son’s, and suggesting what to do of them. Think Stealing Beauty, but twice as good. Five stars. Distribution in Canada: Theatrical.

The Killing of a Sacred Deer (Ireland/UK, 2016. Dir: Yorgos Lanthimos): Lanthimos’ latest starts suspiciously like his previous film, the darkly comedic The Lobster. Colin Farrell introduces his character -a renowned cardiologist- in a monotonous, detached fashion. However, as the movie progresses, The Killing of a Sacred Deer hits a more relatable note: The costs of the greater good.

Unbeknownst to his family, Dr. Murphy (Farrell) meets with a very polite teen named Martin on regular basis. The nature of this relationship is kept in the dark for a good chunk of the film, but doesn’t appear to be very wholesome. As Martin demands more time and dedication from the surgeon, Murphy becomes spooked. An attempt to ghost him triggers a devastating reaction.

Lanthimos keeps his cards close to the chest until the second half, when the (somewhat) standard stalker drama morphs into an exercise in ethics and morals I don’t wish to spoil here. Suffice to say, the good doctor finds out there are limits to the power of modern medicine. As it’s traditional with the Greek filmmaker, the pitch-black sense of humor is perfectly calibrated. The novelty here is the sense of despair that comes with the comedy. Three and a half stars. Distribution in Canada: Theatrical.

Loveless (Russia, 2017. Dir: Andrey Zvyagintsev): By far the better known Russian filmmaker at work today, Andrey Zvyagintsev doesn’t mince words to depict a morally bankrupt society. In Leviathan, the director portrayed the political world as a haven of corruption. In Loveless, Russian middle class doesn’t fare much better under Zvyagintsev’s unflinching eye.

A couple going through the most acrimonious of divorces is forced to live under the same roof until liquidating their apartment. They have a kid, a sad boy no one pays any attention to. Their utter disregard for the child is such that, when he disappears, it takes them over a day and a half to notice. More out of obligation than genuine concern, the bickering duo must navigate the unhelpful Russian bureaucracy to get some help. Not that the disappearance puts a dent on their hatred for each other.

If you think this description is dour, just wait until you see the movie. From Zvyagintsev’s perspective, the pursuit of material riches has corrupted the soul of the country to such point, people willing to help are the exception and money is the only parameter of success. The filmmaker is thorough in his description of modern Russia’s malaise and even takes a few swipes at Putin while at it. Loveless is a bit thick to swallow, but highly rewarding. Three and a half stars. Distribution in Canada: Theatrical.

TIFF '16 -Day 9: Trespass Against Us, The Belko Experiment, Little Wing, The Net

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Trespass Against Us (UK, 2015): I would normally praise an A-lister for going back to his native land to do a cheaper movie, but Michael Fassbender is rather miscast in this mildly compelling drama. Fassbender is Chad, the second in command of a band of outlaws living in the forest. Chad is good at what he does and is one hell of getaway driver. He is also a family man and has slightly more common sense than his fellow thieves.

When it becomes clear his son is likely to end up as one of the inept criminals that surround him, Chad begins to consider the possibility of jumping ship. The only obstacle is his father (Brendan Gleeson), a powerful figure that keeps Chad under his thumb using putdowns and guilt-tripping.

It just takes one look at Fassbender to realize he is no shrinking violet, a detail that makes his character hard to swallow. He is not the only problem: Trespass Against Us often feels aimless, the premise is stretched over ninety minutes for no apparent reason. While we care about the outcome, the film could have use a rewrite and a less-chiseled star. Three stars.

The Belko Experiment (USA, 2016): Imagine The Hunger Games without the terrible romance, or Battle Royale without the mystique. It’s just an every-man-for-himself brawl set in corporate America, and it’s predictably nasty and entertaining. Three stars.

Little Wing (Finland, 2016): The issue of immature parents who lean emotionally on their children is a recurrent one in this edition of the festival. In Little Wing, the subject is treated matter-of-factly: A twelve-year old girl basically raises herself as her self-involved mother sees her more as a clutch than as a person. That is, until the kid goes missing. Too low key to cause a splash, but worth looking out. Three and a half stars.

The Net (South Korea, 2016): Controversial filmmaker Kim Ki-Duk (Moebius, Pieta) delivers his most traditional film to date, but one with edge to spare. Through the story of a North Korean fisherman who unwittingly finds himself south of the demilitarized zone, Kim depicts the two Koreas as the mirror images of one another. According to The Net, neither country can claim moral superiority, not quite the narrative we hear in the Western World. Three and a half stars.

That’s it for me folks. Four to five movies a day take a toll on you. See you at the movies.

For more #TIFF16 up-to-the-minute updates, follow me on Twitter at @jicastillo.

TIFF '16 - Day 8: The Girl with All the Gifts, Ma' Rosa

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

The Girl with All the Gifts (UK, 2016): Between The Walking Dead and all the low-rent undead flicks, it’s hard to give a fresh twist to the zombie subgenre. The Girl with All the Gifts does its darndest to achieve it, but the surplus of ideas ends up hurting the outcome.

The film opens intriguingly enough. A group of inoffensive-looking children are treated like Hannibal Lecter by an overzealous military unit. One of the kids is the dependably polite Melanie (newcomer Sennia Nanua), who hangs pictures of a cat on her wall when no one is looking. Slowly we come to realize the children are partially zombified, but retain a semblance of humanity.

The matter of the kids’ right to be treated as people is one of the many issues the movie hints at, but doesn’t develop (likely, the novel that inspired the film is more thorough). One element I haven’t seen in other zombie movies is the suggestion that mankind is screwed anyway and we should just let it happen.

The Girl with All the Gifts may have been better suited for a TV series. As a feature, too much info falls through the cracks. Two stars.

Ma' Rosa (Philippines, 2016): I was not familiar with the filmography of Philippines most noteworthy filmmaker, Brillante Mendoza. Getting introduced to his work through Ma’ Rosa is akin to being thrown into the deep end of the pool: Gritty, relentless and depressing.

The drama follows 24 hours in the life of Rosa, a convenience store owner/crack dealer. Life in poverty has hardened the mother of three, and her relationship with her kin is punctuated by abuse. This day in particular her store is raided by the police, and the only way she can escape time in the clink is by ratting out her provider and put together a considerable amount for her “bail” (bribe).

The movie revolves around Rosa, but takes breaks to follow her children as they try to get the money in heartbreaking sequences. Also, we get to see the utterly corrupt police force try to make the most of the arrest (financially, that is). Brillante Mendoza employs a visual style very similar to late-period Michael Mann (handheld HD video), only in this scenario is more appropriate than say Miami Vice. Ma’ Rosa just looks chaotic, but has structural clarity and purpose. Four stars.

For #TIFF16 up-to-the-minute updates, follow me on Twitter at @jicastillo.

TIFF '16 - Day 7: Christine, Sand Storm

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Christine (USA, 2016): In 1974, Sarasota news reporter Christine Chubbuck responded to management pressures for more exciting stories by blowing her brains off on live TV. Since there is no mystery about her fate, this biopic focuses on the many factors that led her to take such drastic decision.

As depicted in the film, Christine Chubbuck (Rebecca Hall, Vicki Christina Barcelona) was the smartest reporter in the room, with hopes to go to a bigger market. Christine was also struggling with depression, infertility and an unrequited crush on the news anchor (Michael C. Hall, Dexter).

The film is broad but successful at exploring all the elements involved in Chubbuck’s suicide. But the movie’s biggest asset is a powerhouse performance by Rebecca Hall, who builds a sympathetic character without betraying the integrity of the person who inspired it. If Christine wasn’t an indie struggling with distribution, I would call Hall a shoe-in for an Oscar nomination. Three stars.

Sand Storm (Israel, 2016): As problematic as the issue of arranged marriages is in the Middle East, there are only so many outcomes available to filmmakers. Sand Storm finds a less explored strain, but fails at distinguish itself from other similarly themed films (Academy Award nominee Mustang hit theatres just last winter).

The eldest daughter of a Bedouin family, Layla believes that because her father allows her to drive and pursue an education, she can pick her own beau. She would be wrong. Mere days after bringing the boyfriend home, she is engaged to a less than stellar individual from her community.

Layla’s stern mother, Jalila, appears initially as the villain of the piece (she is the first one to oppose the young woman’s relationship), but soon becomes clear she is a realist with a better grasp of her husband’s character. Jalila is also fighting her own issues, namely the arrival of a second wife, much younger than her.

Sand Storm brings attention to the limited opportunities women have in this environment and hints at the resilience of patriarchal tradition. Worth watching, if you haven’t been exposed to the subject before. Three stars.

For #TIFF16 up-to-the-minute updates, follow me on Twitter at @jicastillo.

TIFF '16 - Day 6: Deepwater Horizon, Mean Dreams, Manchester by the Sea, The Salesman

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Deepwater Horizon (USA, 2016): Given director Peter Berg’s previous output (the disreputable Lone Survivor), I was honestly expecting this movie would be on British Petroleum’s side. Thankfully, Deepwater Horizon sticks to the official story and slaps some action scenes for good measure.

Berg’s go-to leading man, Mark Wahlberg, is Mike Williams, the second in command at the ill-fated oil platform. Because of greed inspired BP directives, a number of security checks are bypassed, so when they finally agree to a checkup, all hell breaks loose.

Even though Berg goes way over the top with the jargon, the filmmaker does a good job explaining the events that lead to the oil spilling (the environmental catastrophe that ensued is only mentioned in passing). But for all the didactic exposition and superb execution of complex action sequences, the characters are one-trait ponies. Kate Hudson is in this movie solely to pace around the house and look worried (and gorgeous). Two and a half stars. 

Mean Dreams (Canada, 2016): In any other year, Mean Dreams would have shined among TIFF’s Canadian offerings. However, given the strong crop in display this festival, it comes out as pedestrian.

In a rural area near Sault St. Marie, two troubled teens fall in love. Jonas (Josh Higgins, Max) is the son of an impoverished farmer who must quit school to help with the land. To the house next door arrives Casey (Sophie Nélisse, The Book Thief), a sweet girl with a rageaholic father (Bill Paxton). They soon fall for each other, but Casey’s dad doesn’t approve of the relationship. Two caveats: The father is a police officer and has a drug business on the side.

Outside beautiful fall scenery, there nothing particularly moving about Mean Dreams: The lovers on the lam angle has been explored a thousand times and this film doesn’t have anything original to add. That said, Mean Dreams is competently made and Nélisse -who got started as one of Monsieur Lazhar students- is becoming a talent to watch. If nothing else, Bill Paxton’s scenery chewing is worth checking out. Two stars.

Manchester by the Sea (USA, 2016): Playwright, screenwriter and director, Kenneth Lonergan has a knack to capture the depths of an individual just by watching it go through their day. His dialogue never feels forced, but is revealing all the same. His movies are a low-key wonder.

Manchester by the Sea is only his third movie and the most complete one to date. Lee Chandler (Casey Affleck, never better) is a taciturn janitor sleepwalking through his life. The death of his brother takes him back to his hometown, a visit that troubles him for reasons that slowly come into focus. There is also a surprise in stock for Lee: He has been named his 16-year old nephew’s guardian, a task he believes he’s not up to, despite having an easy rapport with the kid.

As is tradition in Lonergan’s work, comedy and tragedy mix seamlessly. Teenage self-centeredness and Lee’s unsociable behavior lead to perfectly relatable (and often gut-busting) clashes. The writer/director doesn’t avoid the leg work and turns those minor indignities of everyday life into representations of inner turmoil. An early frontrunner for the Academy Awards, at least in acting and writing categories. Four stars. 

The Salesman (Iran, 2016): While Iranian director Abbas Kiarostami was celebrated for the lyricism of his work, Asghar Farhadi deserves credit for being the filmmaker who best has captured the country’s modern quandaries.

The Salesman is less well-rounded than Farhadi’s previous film -A Separation-, but is just as provocative. Emad, a teacher-cum-actor is forced to abandon his home when the shoddy building he lives in starts to fall apart. He believes he has found a bargain when a friend offers him another apartment, but not even a couple of nights after moving in his wife is attacked. A hunt for the perpetrator ensues, without the assistance of the police or the traumatized victim.

It’s never explicitly said, but the film strongly hints the assault was sexual in nature. Farhadi depicts a society unprepared to deal with crimes of this ilk, and men struggling to see women as their equals. That said, the picture of Iran is of a society much closer to the Western World than other countries in the region are. The Salesman may challenge some preconceptions, without losing sight of the problems that still affect the country. Three and a half stars.

For #TIFF16 up-to-the-minute updates, follow me on Twitter at @jicastillo.

TIFF '16 - Day 5: La La Land, Window Horses, Paterson

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

La La Land (USA, 2016): Director Damien Chazelle’s follow-up to the superb Whiplash shows a filmmaker willing to explore outside his zone of comfort. Narratively, La La Land is pat, but the visuals, music and choreographies more than make up for it.

The story is pure Hollywood lore: Mia is a small town girl (Emma Stone) struggling with getting her acting career off the ground. As she makes her way through Tinseltown, she encounters a jazz musician (Ryan Gosling) with whom she falls in love with. Opportunity doesn’t have a sense of timing and their careers get in the way of a fulfilling relationship.

La La Land is visually stunning and goes from feat to feat (the opening sequence set on a freeway is one for the books), yet it remains profoundly human. Gosling and Stone are top notch, both as song-and-dance partners and in the more dramatic sequences. The film features a coda so brilliant, it practically eclipses the rest of the movie. A strong candidate to best of the fest. Four and a half stars.

Window Horses (Canada, 2016): A phenomenal animated drama that proves you don’t need millions of dollars or Pixar-like precision to trigger an emotional response, Window Horses could be the surprise of this edition of TIFF.

Rosie Ming (voiced by Sandra Oh) is a young writer with little life experience who gets the surprise of a lifetime when she is invited to a poetry festival in Shiraz, Iran. It’s not entirely out of the blue: Rosie is of Persian and Chinese descent, and is curious about her absent father’s land. The culture shock is considerable, but more so the discovery of how little she knows about her craft.

An already captivating plot is further improved with the incorporation of traditional Iranian poetry and dollops of history. The film’s looks are deceptively simple (Rosie is a stick figure, but there is a good reason for that) and enables the participation of guest animators for the most lyrical sequences. There isn’t a weak link in this chain: Sandra Oh’s voice acting is on point, Don McKellar as a conceited German poet is a hoot and the narrative builds up to a powerful climax. Four stars.

Paterson (USA, 2016): Following a career apex (the superb Only Lovers Left Alive), Jim Jarmusch takes a step back and delivers a deceptively simple meditation on routine and art.

Not one to abandon his indie roots despite widespread recognition, Adam Driver plays the title character. Paterson is happy with his lot in life, a whimsical and loving wife, a pub that suits his sensibilities and a job (bus driver) that allows him to rove around his beloved city… Paterson, New Jersey. The only element that distinguishes him is his appreciation for poetry, both as a reader and as a writer.

Paterson flirts with surrealism, but never leaves the viewers hanging. For the most part, his approach is charming, like reencountering the leads of Moonrise Kingdom as teenagers with a rebel streak. Jarmusch’s attempt to achieve transcendence through repetition is daring, although the verdict on whether he succeeded or not may vary from one viewer to the next. Three and a half stars.

For #TIFF16 up-to-the-minute updates, follow me on Twitter at @jicastillo.

TIFF '16 - Day 4: Denial, Julieta, American Honey, It's Only the End of the World

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Denial (UK, 2016): A fascinating story that could be more at home on TV than on the big screen, Denial rises above pedestrian filmmaking thanks to the power of the material and strong turns by Rachel Weisz and Timothy Spall (Mr. Turner).

The court drama pits American historian Deborah Lipstadt against British rabble-rouser David Irving. Lipstadt accused Irving of fabricating and misrepresenting historic documents in order to support his belief that the Holocaust never took place. Rather unexpectedly, the neo-Nazi icon sued the academic for libel. Since in the UK the burden of proof lies with the accused, Lipstadt found herself having to demonstrate the systematic killing of Jewish prisoners during World War II.

The film is bursting with fascinating info (even when defeat seemed unavoidable, the Nazis went out of their way to hide all evidence of the Final Solution) and serves as a primer on Britain’s justice system. Just as important as the Lipstadt-Irving showdown are disagreements within the historian’s defense team. While Irving’s position is indefensible, the debate over calling Holocaust survivors to the stand is a riveting one.

Denial goes above and beyond to provide a fluid narrative and a traditional climax (a challenge in films based on real events) and not always succeeds. Nevertheless, movies of this substance shouldn’t be dismissed. Three stars.

Julieta (Spain, 2016): Pedro Almodóvar’s work for the last decade has been hit-and-miss. A telling sign is whenever he abandons traditional structure: His weakest films are his most indulgent (I’m So Excited, Broken Embraces). I’m happy to report Julieta is one of his best efforts, up there with All About my Mother, a movie that shares a similar DNA.

Julieta unfolds as a mystery within an enigma. We first meet the title character (Emma Suárez) as she bails from moving to Portugal with her boyfriend. Soon we are informed the reason is her estranged daughter. Extended flashbacks reveal how young Julieta (the stunning Adriana Ugarte) came to meet the father, a fisherman, and how her entire existence has been marred to a feeling of guilt.

I don’t wish to spoil the surprises Julieta has to offer. Suffice to say the emotional punches are consistent and land more often than not. A soberer than usual Almodóvar depicts guilt as a destructive force that reproduces itself. Julieta’s dad offers a nice counterpoint to the lead character: Move on or become consumed by remorse.

Julieta works in most aspects, except for the over the top, melodramatic score. Not even Greek tragedies call for such violin abuse. Four stars.

American Honey (USA, 2016): A fairly new phenomenon in American cinema is the portrayal of the impoverished regions of the country. From to Beast of the Southern Wild to Hell or High Water, there seems to be an appetite for social cinema that wasn’t there five years ago.

American Honey falls in this category. It’s a character study (another anomaly in American cinema) with sociocultural undertones, simultaneously hard and compassionate towards millennials. Star (impressive debut of Sasha Lane) is a teen on the run from an abusive home. She joins a group of adolescents who roam across the southern states selling magazine subscriptions. While they maintain the illusion of free living, the collective is ruled with iron fist by Krystal (a terrific Riley Keough) and the charismatic Jake (Shia LaBeouf). Star and Jake begin a clandestine relationship, placing the newcomer in an awkward and potentially dangerous position.

Director Andrea Arnold (Fish Tank) pushes the envelope further than expected and ties the proceedings to a feeling of hopelessness. American Honey is never boring, but it’s hard to justify a 163-minute length. The film is challenging, but compulsively watchable. Three stars.

It’s Only the End of the World (Canada, 2016): I think I have Xavier Dolan figured out. Because of his early start as a director, he only trades on emotions. Rationality or any thinking matter have no place in his movies. This is all well and good for a couple of films, but the continuous praise has stunted his evolution. His latest is frankly unbearable. The most impressive francophone cast imaginable (Vincent Cassel, Marion Cotillard, Lea Seydoux, Nathalie Baye) is wasted on having them yelling at each other. Also, they play no recognizable human beings. Only Dolan’s stand-in -Gaspard Ulliel- survives this smorgasbord of overacting, mostly by staying quiet. One star.

For #TIFF16 up-to-the-minute updates, follow me on Twitter at @jicastillo

TIFF '16 - Day 2: Free Fire, Elle, Snowden

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Free Fire (USA/UK, 2016): Ben Wheatley is without a doubt one of the most interesting contemporary filmmakers at work, but his filmography is far from immaculate. He often engages in self-indulgence and glamorization of violence.

Free Fire embodies both of Wheatley’s main flaws. In fact, more than a movie, Free Fire feels like an exercise in style, following the infinitely more complex and ambitious High-Rise.

1978, Boston. A group of IRA members intents to purchase a number of automatic weapons from a shifty South African dealer at an abandon warehouse. The already tense exchange shifts into hyper-drive when men at both sides of the transaction succumb to the pressure.

The impish shoot’em up is undeniably entertaining, even though Wheatley fails to establish a visual geography to better follow the dispute. A number of recognizable actors (Cillian Murphy and Armie Hammer as the pros, Sharlto Copley and Sam Riley as the hotheads, Brie Larson as the liaison) are game to some down-and-dirty action, but Free Fire is just a minor detour for a filmmaker who can be more than another Tarantino clone. Three stars.

Elle (France, 2016): Perennial provocateur Paul Verhoeven has been very quiet lately. Outside a more or less traditional WWII flick (Black Book) and a forgettable short, the man who turned Hollywood on its head in the nineties has kept a low profile since.

His latest, Elle, is perhaps a career best. Verhoeven mixes genres with remarkable dexterity and is still capable of building a complex protagonist: The credits haven’t even finished rolling in when Michele (Isabelle Huppert, never better) is raped at home by an intruder. Reporting the attack is low in her list of concerns: Her son is about to move in with his pregnant girlfriend even though he may not be the baby’s father, her videogame company is developing a product that could make or break her business, and her long-time jailed father is up for parole.

You would think Michele is on the edge, but she remains in control and more together than everyone else around her. So much so, that the idea of being powerless becomes a thrilling one. You can figure out where this is going.

A layered mystery with a dollop of black comedy, Elle is very wrong in the best way possible. A contained Verhoeven is as good as his most debauched self, with the invaluable assistance of Huppert in a bravura performance. Four and a half stars.

Snowden (USA, 2016): It has been a long while since Oliver Stone was last relevant. His last few movies have gone from goofy (W.) to flat (World Trade Center). Even his attempt to be commercial (Savages) lacked the pizzazz his best efforts had.

While not entirely a return to form, Snowden is at least a fully shaped film that makes clear why the actions of the NSA contractor are worth our appreciation, regardless of the authorities’ scorn. Stone gives Edward Snowden the hero treatment: A former soldier of conservative tendencies appalled by the liberties the American government takes with civil surveillance. As the titular character, Joseph Gordon-Levitt does a remarkable job matching the man himself, from the voice pitch to the deceptive composure.

Snowden does a much better job than Oscar-winning documentary Citizenfour filling in the audience on the programmer’s trajectory and his motivations. Once again though, Snowden’s partner Lindsay Mills gets the short shift, in spite of a spirited performance by Shailene Woodley. It’s never clear why Mills has stuck through thick and thin with the whistleblower. Love only gets you so far. Three and a half stars.

For up-to-the-minute #TIFF16 impressions, follow me on Twitter at @jicastillo.

TIFF '16 - Day 1: Toni Erdmann, Werewolf, The Commune, Neruda

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Toni Erdmann (Germany, 2016): A Cannes sensation, Toni Erdmann has already been celebrated as one of the comedic achievements of the decade, even making its way into the 100 Best Movies of the 21st Century list, according to the BBC.

Guess what. It’s overrated.

Don’t get me wrong, Toni Erdmann is far from a bad movie, but the 160 minutes-long comedy doesn’t deserve such unrestrained praise.

Winfried, a music teacher and incorrigible joker, tries to reconnect with his daughter Ines, a serious businesswoman on assignment in Rumania. The prankster fails in his first attempt, so he brings out the big guns, namely his alter ego, Toni Erdmann. The character is an obnoxious bore, but at least gets a reaction from Ines, noticeably depressed but unaware of it.

The deadpan comedy of Toni Erdmann is pleasant, even sharp at times, but the length is absurd. The film aims to criticize European corporations that favor efficiency and rules over the human factor, hardly a groundbreaking topic. I could be missing something, but it wasn’t the transformative experience I was expecting. Three stars. Toni Erdmann will be distributed in Canada.

Werewolf (Canada, 2016): A terrific feature debut by Ashley McKenzie, Werewolf is a gritty look at a couple of heroin addicts trying to ‘get better’ in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia. While not the most original idea, the film is interesting as it shows the two leads navigating Canadian bureaucracy as they try to attain a degree of normalcy through job assistance and low income housing.

Even though they face similar obstacles in the rehabilitation process, Nessa and Blaise have different luck. While the former follows the (often patronizing) rules imposed by people in position of authority, the latter becomes easily frustrated and lands in a vicious circle that prevents him from getting better. The relationship suffers because of this and as painful as it sounds, cutting a loved one loose is sometimes the only way to survive.

McKenzie used non-professional actors for Werewolf and the strategy pays off handsomely. Andrew Gillis and Bhreagh MacNeil give fresh and unassuming performances, captured in tight, oppressive shots. As predictable as the film’s path is, it doesn’t make it any less harrowing. Three and a half stars. 

The Commune (Denmark, 2016): The Danish keep on killing it at finding new angles in family dramas. In The Commune, we see a marriage fall apart as they try to assimilate the new limits of personal freedom during the swinging 70’s. The moral of the story? Never a good idea to deal with emotional issues rationally. Three and a half stars.

Neruda (Chile, 2016): Not quite a biopic of the Chilean poet Pablo Neruda, this is like The Fugitive without the urgency (then it goes meta). There is a good idea at the center of Neruda, but director Pablo Larraín crams so much info, it gets lost in the shuffle. Two stars.

For #TIFF16 up-to-the-minute updates, follow me on Twitter at @jicastillo.