THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: The Beasts

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

The Beasts (Dir: Rodrigo Sorogoyen. Spain, 2022): After telling a Spanish friend in passing about my dream of buying a summer house in the Iberian Peninsula, his only comment was “do you have twenty bucks?” It was his way of saying acquiring property isn’t a problem per se, but there are issues that come with buying cheap.

Watching The Beasts reinforced his point. A superb thriller winner of last year’s Goya for Best Picture, the issues the film trades on (bigotry, gentrification, social stagnation) are all so palpable, they make the story hit harder.

Hoping to have a go at living off the land, a French couple —Olga and Antoine (Marina Fois and Denis Menochet)— buy a farm in Galicia. Any hope for a quiet existence goes down the drain when they find themselves at odds with the townies, particularly the Anta brothers (Luis Zahera and Diego Anido), over selling the land to a wind energy conglomerate. Olga and Antoine are the only holdouts.

The hostilities between the neighbors escalate. For the Anta siblings, the offer is their best shot to escape poverty and the French couple is on the way. You just know the dispute won’t end well.

Director Rodrigo Sorogoyen does a masterful job at escalation and foreshadowing, aided by extraordinary performances by Denis Menochet (Monsieur LaPadite in Inglourious Basterds) and Luis Zahera. We’re meant to sympathize with Olga and Antoine, but Sorogoyen refuses to dismiss the townies’ grievances. There are no bigger tragedies than the ones caused by villains who think of themselves as crusaders. A must see. 4/5 stars.

The Beasts is now playing in Toronto, Ottawa, Edmonton, Hamilton, Sudbury, Vancouver, Waterloo, and Windsor.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: The Flash

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Editor’s note: Here at The Canadian Crew we believe in reviewing the art, not the artist. Our review of The Flash won’t be affected by the events that have surrounded Ezra Miller in the last year. We reserve, however, the right to make a sarcastic remark or two.

(The Flash. Dir: Andy Muschietti. USA, 2023): The DCEU in its current incarnation is coming to an end. The creative team headed by James Gunn and Peter Safran is bringing new ideas to the fore and, while they claim it won’t be a clean break, it won’t be the same as imagined early on by Zack Snyder.

One could argue about the merits of the Snyderverse movies, but the casting has been by large spot-on. Cavill, Gadot, Momoa. All terrific. Never mind their behavior of late, Ezra Miller belongs in that group. A breath of lightness among heavy drama, the Flash was the one reliable source of joy regardless of who was at the helm.

Now at the center of his own movie, the Flash reveals shades that make him more compelling than any of his two-dimensional companions at the Justice League. We reencounter Barry Allen (Miller) feeling somewhat resentful. He thinks of himself as Batman’s janitor and is increasingly dissatisfied with his work-superhero life balance.

But his issues with the League are minor compared to the drama at home. Barry’s dad is in jail for killing his mom (he didn’t do it, the movie is quick to clarify) and his latest appeal is unlikely to succeed. In a fit of fury Barry realizes he can run so fast, he can turn back time. You know where this is going.

The Flash is not, by a long shot, the best superhero movie ever made, as hyperbolically was described early on. I would even venture the word-of-mouth strategy was more damaging than anything else. The film is fine: fun, well-constructed, strong enough to sustain the (increasingly annoying) idea of a multiverse. But live up to such hype, it does not.

Even though most promos have highlighted Michael Keaton’s return as Batman (delightful, but briefer than expected), the weight of The Flash falls squarely on Ezra Miller’s shoulders and they do a good job carrying it. Miller plays two versions of Barry, the one we know and his unburdened, cavalier younger self. Director Andy Muschietti (It) is particularly adept at balancing comedy and pathos and succeeds here as well, if at the expense of many supporting characters given thankless roles (Michael Shannon has it bad, but Antje Traue takes the cake).

It’s fair to wonder, why care about The Flash if the whole DCEU will be rebooted anyway? Here’s a thought: For the fun of it. Not every movie needs to be a franchise lynchpin. Think of The Flash as a self-contained adventure and you’ll have a far better time. 3/5 stars. The Flash is now playing.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: The End of Sex

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

The End of Sex (Dir: Sean Garrity. Canada, 2022): Sex farces are a complicated affair. Unless the movie is extremely funny (The 40-Year-Old Virgin), daring (Y tú Mamá También), or has something interesting to say (The Graduate), odds are stacked against it.

The End of Sex has nothing going for it. It’s juvenile (it acts as if threesomes and sex clubs are inherently funny), but not particularly amusing. There’s pathos, but the movie doesn’t dare to explore it. It pretends to know about marriage, but it doesn’t come close to depict recognizable adult dynamics. It’s the kind of film a teenage boy would come up with.

Emma (Emily Hampshire) and Josh (Jonas Chernick), the couple at the center of The End of Sex, are content with their lot in life, although they’re aware something is lacking in the bedroom. Their daughters’ trip to camp gives them the chance to confirm it: the spark is gone.

Instead of talking about it, manage expectations, or consider counselling, they take the “spice up your marriage” route. Instead of reviving their sex lives, their hare-brained schemes cause further damage.

Directed by Sean Garrity (After the Ball) and written by Chernick, The End of Sex goes for the lowest hanging fruit every time. The movie doesn’t have characters but stereotypes and the moment it touches on something real, it sacrifices it for a comedy bit. The film is cohesive enough to be watchable, but if you’re looking for insight, try somewhere else. 1 ½ stars (out of five).

The End of Sex is now playing across Canada.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: Evil Dead Rise, Beau Is Afraid, Chevalier

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Evil Dead Rise (USA, 2023. Dir: Lee Cronin): Unlike in most horror movies, the malignant forces depicted in the Evil Dead franchise (the Deadites) are essentially undefeatable. Sure, Ash (Bruce Campbell) may be able to keep them at bay at extreme personal cost, but there’s no sure-fire way to destroy them.

This chapter in the saga knows this very well and successfully toys with the audience’s emotions. I’m guilty of thinking “there’s no way this movie will cause irreparable damage to a family” (a self-imposed rule most American horror films obey) and mere minutes later witnessed director Lee Cronin (The Hole in the Ground) breach every unspoken convention in the book.

Evil Dead Rise opens in a traditional setting, the perfunctory cabin in the woods, but quickly moves to a condemned building in Los Angeles. The few remaining dwellers are getting ready to move, including Ellie (Alyssa Sutherland, Vikings), a beleaguered mother of three. Unaware of her sister’s dire straits, Beth (Lily Sullivan), comes for a visit, burdened by an unexpected pregnancy and lack of prospects.

As luck would have it, an earthquake and teen curiosity conspire to unearth the third volume of the Necronomicon (the “Book of the Dead”). The text and accompanying spirits cause havoc among the family in a demonstration of evil far more transgressive than expected.

To its credit, Evil Dead Rise doesn’t use the jump-scare technique all that much. It’s thoroughly tense with genuine hair-raising moments (imagine The Shining elevator… from inside). The movie only falters when it doubles down on the gore at expense of character development: it wastes an opportunity to pursue more lasting unease as opposed to just temporary thrills. Still, as genre movies go, this is a solid performer. Three stars (out of five).

Evil Dead Rise is now playing in theatres.

Beau Is Afraid (USA, 2023. Dir: Ari Aster): While under no circumstances can be considered a dismissible artistic endeavor, Beau Is Afraid is the weakest of Ari Aster’s films to date. Granted, his two previous movies (Midsommar, Hereditary) are modern classics, but still, one has come to expect greatness from Aster.

Where Midsommar and Hereditary are tight and have clarity of purpose, Beau is meandering and obtuse. Did Astor need three hours to tell us in the most baroque way possible that maternal love can be castrating? No. Hitchcock did it in an hour fifty and using the pulpiest material available.

Alas, at least the first hour of Beau is Afraid is a complete riot, a smorgasbord of black comedy and modern neuroses with a dash of slapstick. The real feat would have been to sustain that pace for the entire movie. Three and a half stars (out of five).

Beau is Afraid is now playing in theatres.

Chevalier (USA, 2022. Dir: Stephen Williams): Imagine coming across the fascinating story of Joseph Bologne, the earliest European composer of African descent to receive widespread acclaim, and bungle it beyond recognition. It’s what happens with Chevalier, a drama that not only oversimplifies Bologne’s figure, but the entire French Revolution.

As portrayed here, Bologne (Kelvin Harrison Jr., Waves) was friends with Marie Antoinette (Lucy Boynton, Bohemian Rhapsody) and thought that because of his connections, he could run the Paris Opera. Instead, he becomes a target for racist oligarchs and cuckolded husbands. As he loses his privileges, he comes to the realization he should use his gift for more noble purposes.

A glorified soap opera atrociously written, Chevalier is at its best when generating unintended laughs: imagine the streets of Paris weeks before the Revolution, and Marie Antoinette decides this would be a good time to venture into the city to mend fences with her old friend, accompanied only by two guards walking a good ten feet behind. Two stars (out of five).

Chevalier is now playing in theatres.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: A Good Person

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

A Good Person (USA, 2023. Dir: Zach Braff): It’s hard to explain why a portion of the public can’t stand Zach Braff. He hasn’t been cancelled or done anything embarrassing that we know of (Wish I Was Here wasn’t that bad). If nothing else, he tends to fall upwards, but for the most part the actor/director has worked his butt off to get his movies made.

Granted, Braff’s greatest hits are from over a decade ago (Garden State, 2005; Scrubs, 2001-2010), but he has worked consistently since, in front and behind the camera. He has earned the benefit of the doubt.

His latest film as writer/director, A Good Person, isn’t great, but is competent enough to be watchable (except for that hideous poster, a photoshop crime). It greatly benefits of two pros making an effort: the indefatigable Florence Pugh and Morgan Freeman in a role with a bit more edge than the rest of his recent grandfatherly output.

(Mild spoilers ahead) Pugh is Allison, once an up-and-comer sales rep about to get married, now an oxy popping screw-up with nothing to look forward to. What happened in between? A horrific car accident that strained her relationship with her fiancé and destroyed her self-esteem.

Borderline suicidal and in denial about her addiction, in a half-hearted effort to go straight, Allison attends an AA meeting. She runs into Daniel (Freeman), her ex-fiancé’s dad, who has very good reasons to shun her altogether. Against all odds, Daniel provides Allison with a lifeline and a very faint possibility of redemption. (End spoilers)

A drama like A Good Person lives and dies by the dialogue and Braff alternates corny, basic, and sporadically insightful lines. Some of the comedy work thanks to Florence Pugh’s ability to make fun of herself, but that’s obviously not the film’s tone and we’re quickly reminded this movie is about DEATH.

This being a Zach Braff movie, action takes the backseat to character development, which is refreshing for an American film. If only the filmmaker had relinquished the rehab template and dared to explore the more obscure corners of a story a hundred times told, A Good Person could have transcended the clichés it’s mired on. 2/5 stars.

A Good Person is now playing in theatres.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: Boston Strangler

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Boston Strangler (Dir: Matt Ruskin. USA, 2023): First thing you should know is this is not a remake of the Tony Curtis film. In fact, the main characters of Boston Strangler—two female journalists—are not even mentioned in the 1968 film (the cops are the heroes), an example of patriarchal mindset that alone justifies revisiting the grisly case on film.

While the movie succeeds at shedding light on the two reporters—Loretta McLaughlin and Jean Cole— who cracked the case, it fails as a thriller: there isn’t a shred of suspense to be found, in spite of the grim color palette, bleak score, and rather basic set pieces. In fact, these traits remind us of David Fincher’s work (Se7en, Zodiac, Mindhunter) and the comparison isn’t flattering.

The plot isn’t a mile away from She Said (the film around the NYT journos who exposed Harvey Weinstein), just set five decades earlier: Loretta McLaughlin (Keira Knightley, miscast but game) is a reporter stuck covering domesticity matters, such as how good is the new toaster model. She aspires to break hard news and gets a shot when she speculates three murders of lonely women in the greater Boston area are connected.

Despite official denials and obstructions, McLaughlin is right on the money and is paired with investigative reporter Jean Cole (Carrie Coon, never bad) to continue on the Boston Strangler beat. Their work is impeccable, but at every step they’re forced to deal with discrimination and a hearty dose of misogyny.

Because real life events don’t unfold in three acts, the film feels repetitive and at times aimless. The often-bright Knightley is deprived of all light. Coon is given very little to work with but manages to conjure a lived-in character out of thin air (probably her own research).

The film’s greatest value is as a reminder not to let strangers into your house. Then again, The Cat in the Hat does the same and in verse. 2/5 stars.

Boston Strangler is now playing on Disney+

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: Guitar Lessons

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Guitar Lessons (Dir: Aaron James. Canada, 2022): There’s something to be said about earnestness in film. In days in which movies are constantly winking at the audience (are you getting the reference? Get it? Get it?) and the leads are at the very least smart-alecky, simplicity and sense of purpose go a long way.

In Guitar Lessons, this earnestness goes a long way to cover the film’s shortcomings. The movie also benefits from a strong main cast, led by country-western singer/songwriter Corb Lund in his first starring role.

Lund is Ray, a man of few words and fewer friends trying to make a living as an oilfield contractor in northwestern Alberta. There’s more to him than that. Once upon a time he almost hit the big-time as a musician, but chose to walk away from it for murky reasons.

His standoffish approach to life makes him a terrible choice as a teacher, yet he’s approached by a 15-year-old, Leland (newcomer Kaden Noskiye), for the titular guitar lessons. The kid seems lost in most ways than one and there’s clearly more than chance to this encounter.

Guitar Lessons doesn’t necessarily goes where you think is going, but doesn’t stray that far either. One wishes the film spent more time in developing the relationship between Ray and Leland (most of it unfolds as a montage). Instead, the movie takes unnecessary tangents to explore Ray’s relationship with women and money.

The Guitar Lessons’ B-story is potent, but barely connected to the main plot (feels like two separate scripts forcefully combined to reach feature film length). It revolves around Ray’s best friend Ernie (Conway Kootenay), a good-natured Cree man struggling with gambling addiction. Director Aaron James (Hank Williams First Nation) smartly enables Kootenay to plays to his strengths and gives his comedic chops no less than three showcases (the land acknowledgement is particularly riotous), but also injects the characters with enough pathos to make him well rounded. 

Overall, Guitar Lessons fails to come together, particularly on the more dramatic second half, but has enough single achievements to justify the ticket price. 2/5 stars.

 Guitar Lessons is now playing in Saskatchewan and Alberta.

TIFF '22 - Day 10: Soft

By Sarah Kurchak

Dir: Joseph Amenta. Canada, 2022. Good cinema has the power to change the way you see the world. But spending an entire festival immersed in the best that current film has to offer can also change the way you see cinema. You can see what artists around the world are doing well, and start to notice the occasional hole in the game you’d never really thought about before. This TIFF, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how difficult it is to portray a simple moment of joy on screen. How, even in otherwise good films, attempts to capture that emotion can feel awkward or forced. 

And then, on the last day of press screenings, I saw Soft (previously announced as Pussy.)

It wasn’t just refreshing to see, though, it was beautiful in its own right. Even in a festival—or a world—more consistently populated with great recreations of joy, Soft’s giggles, asides, dances, and screams between its three young stars would stand out. 

This isn’t to say that Soft is only about the good times, though. Writer/director Joseph Amenta’s debut feature does not hesitate to explore the complexities of its three young racialized queer Toronto friends’s lives over the course of an eventful summer vacation. Through smart and empathetic writing, direction, and performances, the characters’ dynamics both within the group and outside of it are richly drawn. Tony (Zion Matheson) has a supportive mom, but even a mother’s love can’t single-handedly protect her from everything the world has to offer, and her friends aren’t always fair to her. Otis (Harlow Joy) isn’t out at home, and sometimes his found family wind up on the receiving end of the frustrations and confusion he feels for a family that loves him but doesn’t necessarily understand him. Julien (Matteus Lunot) has been kicked out of his home and is living with Dawn (Miyoko Anderson), a mother figure who radiates all of the love, protection, and support that far too much of this cruel world has denied her. When Dawn goes missing, Julien’s already fraught young life is thrown into a tailspin. 

Throughout their highs and lows, the three friends both celebrate and grieve together. They get up to classic high school mischief together. They struggle side by side and occasionally, briefly, against each other. And they cling to each other.

Which makes those moments of happiness and how wonderful they’re written, performed, and shot, all the more important. And even more potent. They’re not just well-captured moments of lightness. In such a nuanced and thoughtful film about young queer lives, these scenes become beautiful tributes to queer joy in al of its magic, rebellion, and restorative power. 4/5 stars.

TIFF '22 - Day 10: Ever Deadly

By Sarah Kurchak

Dir: Tanya Tagaq, Chelsea McMullan. Canada, 2022. There’s a common bit of praise you’ll see for a good concert film from fans and critics alike is that it feels just like being there. Or at least as close as you can get without being there. Ever Deadly takes you even closer.

Part of this incredible connection is a result of how the live footage is filmed. Tagaq welcomes her co-director and their camera fairly close to her personal space, and this access makes for some disarmingly intimate and intense footage. The first seven and a half minutes of the documentary capture the Polaris Music Prize and Juno-winning musician, author, and now filmmaker Tagaq and performance artist Laakkuluk Williamson Bathory “standing face to face, and it’s a friendly competition call and response” as Tagaq describes traditional Inuit throat singing in the next scene, in one extended closeup. Every breath, every subtle shift in expression is captured so beautifully. The concert that is woven throughout the rest of the film embraces similar shooting styles and fosters similar results. 

But it goes even deeper than that. The personal footage that makes up the other half of Ever Deadly adds a whole new level to the viewing experience. In between the stunning pieces of performance footage, we see Tagaq reflect on a number of aspects of her life and work. We see her talk about the land and listen to the sound that shale makes when you step on it. We see her talk to her children and her mother. We see her mother talk about her own life, including how the Canadian government relocated her family, lied to them, and essentially left them for dead. We see Tagaq talk about hunting and environmental issues. We see her talk about the ongoing crisis of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls in Canada. And, each time the film returns to the stage, the viewer is given more context for the art they’re witnessing. 

Ever Deadly does an amazing job of capturing how powerful Tagaq is on stage, but it also captures how her life, her family, her people, her activism, her humour, her anger, and her passion all come together in her art. It might not be a substitute for seeing her in person. She is one of the greatest live musical performers of our time. That’s always going to be something worth seeing, hearing, and feeling for yourself in person. But the film does offer a breathtaking companion piece to being there. 4/5 stars.

TIFF '22 - Day 10: Project Wolf Hunting

By Sarah Kurchak

Dir: Kim Hong-sun. South Korea, 2022. When an effort to extradite a group of dangerous criminals from the Philippines to South Korea is thwarted by a suicide bombing, the Korean government is forced to try something a little more unorthodox. What they come up with is loading the next group of cons, a handful of police officers, one doctor, and one nurse, on an old cargo vessel and making the journey by sea.

Almost immediately, the plan starts to go sideways. Officials that are monitoring the ship from South Korea are kicked out of their positions when a secret agency takes over the surveillance room. Then some of the convicts, lead by a notorious crime syndicate enfant terrible (Seo In-guk), stage a bloody uprising. Then all of that blood and violence wakes up something even scarier from the bowels of the boat. Who immediately starts causing exponentially more blood and violence. And then things get really weird. And even bloodier and more violent. 

Project Wolf Hunting is bloody and brutal almost to the point of absurdity, and its plot twists might be even more gleefully excessive than its gore. But in a good way. Writer/director Kim Hongsun’s screenplay is as clever as it is over the top. All of the wild pieces of the plot eventually fit together as surely as every possible piece of the human body is torn asunder. The effects are suitably gory while remaining just cartoonish enough to keep the rising body count fun instead of a horror that will make you question the nature of movies and life and haunt you until you die. The fight sequences have just the right smattering of martial arts prowess. And the cast throw themselves into their roles with excitable abandon. Especially Seo In-guk as the scenery and ear-chewing Park Jong-doo and Choi Gwi-hwa, who has one of the most impressive and intimidating physical presences you’ll find outside of a wrestling ring. 

It’s obviously not going to be to everyone’s tastes, but if you have a strong enough stomach and a twisted enough mind, you’re in for a hell of a ride. 3/5 stars.

TIFF '22 - Day 8: Brother

By Sarah Kurchak

Dir: Clement Virgo. Canada, 2022. Clement Virgo’s long-awaited return to feature filmmaking begins with its titular brother as a teenager standing at the base of a group of transmission towers. With electricity humming at an almost palpable volume in the background, Francis (Aaron Pierre) carefully outlines all of the dangers that his younger brother will face as they start climbing and urges him to follow his every move. Michael (Lamar Johnson) takes in everything he says, looking a little pensive, but with an unwavering belief in his big brother that immediately becomes obvious to the audience. 

When the film shifts back in time to their childhood, we see how emblematic this moment was of their lives and their bond. In 1990s Scarborough, their mother (Marsha Stephanie Blake) does her best to protect her sons while working night shifts and overtime to provide for all of them. She tells them to stay inside, and keep the TV off when she’s not there, but it’s not enough to keep the outside world away. The dangers they face and Black children in Canada is as overpowering through CityTV news reports of local crimes and on the other side of their door as the electricity’s hum, and a nervous, wide-eyed Michael looks to his brother for comfort and guidance. Francis, who is barely older and dealing with his own fears, hurts, and dreams, does his best to be the father figure he desperately craves for both of them.

When the film shifts forward to Michael’s adulthood, we see Francis’s absence reverberate through his loved ones’ lives even more powerfully. His death has left their mother almost catatonic in grief and Michael must try to figure out how to take care of her and himself when the one person he could always turn to is no longer there. When an old friend returns to their neighbourhood to reconnect, though, both Michael and his mother are lovingly pushed to open up their home and their lives to something other than their unbearable grief. 

Virgo’s adaptation of David Chariandy’s award-winning novel is near flawless in its execution. Its performances are universally stunning. Even its details are pitch perfect, from the 1980s Tupperware, to the Master T footage, to the iconic bus shelters, to the bored white music execs who helped to make Toronto the Screwface Capital long before it became The 6ix.

But even in a film as universally exceptional as Brothers, Virgo’s direction and screenplay stand out. The way he weaves timelines together, with a structure that makes The Sweet Hereafter look linear and straightforward by comparison, is nothing short of masterful. And it’s even more emotionally resonant. This is what grief feels like, with every treasured moment, every high and low with your loved one seemingly happening and once or all over again. Virgo and his crew have captured it every bit as heartbreakingly and triumphantly as they have the characters who are living through it and their surroundings. 5/5 stars.

TIFF '22 - Day 8: I Like Movies

By Sarah Kurchak

Dir: Chandler Levack. Canada, 2022. Film writer and filmmaker Chandler Levack’s debut feature is a thoroughly competent if somewhat by the book coming of age story that is elevated by its choice of subject: the budding film bro. 

Made by and for people who will identify with the main character—perhaps with varying degrees of wincing self-awareness—I Like Movies follows Lawrence Kweller (Isaiah Lehtinen) through his final year of high school. Lawrence is a film buff who’s trapped in the suffocatingly small town Burlington, Ontario in the early 2000s. He has big problems and big dreams, and sometimes uses bluster about the latter to compensate for the former. Also, he can sometimes be a bit of a dick. He has one friend, Matt Macarchuk (Percy Hynes White), who hangs out with him, watches Saturday Night Live with him, and makes videos that have Swollen Members soundtracks with him, but Matt probably doesn’t even get Paul Thomas Anderson, so does he even count? In any case, Lawrence is planning on dropping him and moving on to bigger and better things when he gets the hell out of Burlington and goes to New York for film school.

There’s only one problem with his plan—other than the fact he hasn’t been accepted yet and applied to no backup schools—is that film school costs $90,000. And he has saved $0. In a last-ditch effort to start saving for his future, Lawrence talks his way into his ideal high school job: working at the local rental store, Sequels. It’s exciting at first, but he soon learns that there’s more to working life than forcing obscure choices on minimally interested customers and getting 10 free rentals a week. 

With an impressive balance of compassion and clarity, Levack guides Lawrence through adolescent posturing, pain, low key life-ruining, shattered dreams, fledgling self-awareness, and growth. And even if it’s all been done before, it’s still charming to watch it happen through the lens of someone who’s also learning that there might—just might—be more to like than Kubrick. (And as an autistic person, I want to thank Levack for creating a character that is nerdy and pedantic without making any cheap allusions to him possibly being on the spectrum. It’s such a relief.) 

The score by Murray Lightburn is an excellent touch, too. And a thrill for Lawrence’s real life music nerd counterparts. Which includes me. 3/5 stars.

TIFF '22 - Day 5: Plan 75

By Sarah Kurchak

Dir: Chie Hayakawa. Japan/France/Philippines/Qatar, 2022. Stories about societies with an age limit are usually set in a barely recognizable dystopian future. But the only thing that writer/director Chie Hayakawa has invented in her debut future is its eponymous plan. Which makes it the most disturbing—and most troublingly realistic—take on the genre yet. 

In an effort to address its aging population, the Japanese government has launched a new initiative: they’re offering every citizen 75 and over free euthanasia. On paper, it’s a perfectly voluntary program and applicants change their mind at any time in the process. But Hayakawa’s film deftly explores the many ways in which the realities of day to day life leave her characters with few alternatives. 

Plan 75 tackles its premise from three main perspectives. In one thread, Hiromu (Hayato Isomura) is a polite and friendly salaryman working for the Plan who stumbles on some ugly truths about the inner workings and has a crisis of faith when his own uncle signs up on his 75th birthday. In another, Maria (Stefanie Arianne), a foreign worker with a sick daughter and mounting medical bills, quits her job as a care worker for the elderly because cleaning up their bodies for Plan 75 pays more. And in the heart of the film, Michi (Chieko Baisho) a 78-year-old in good health and previously good spirits, is forced to consider joining when she loses her job and gets evicted from her home. 

The film covers an impressive amount of ground, made even remarkable by the fact that Hayakawa never sacrifices story to make a point. Instead, she weaves her storylines and all of the factors that face her characters together with remarkable compassion and clarity. We see all of the obstacles in the way of them living safe and fulfilling lives—including isolation, unemployment, familiar rejection, elder neglect, homelessness, lack of community, and even a passing nod to hostile architecture—but we also see their humanity. 

Plan 75 is terrifying because it could easily happen today. (And, arguably, already is happening in some form. Given the current issues surrounding the abuse of medically assisted dying and the lack of support for elderly and disabled people in Canada, it might be even more relevant in the country it's currently screening in than the country it’s about.) It’s devastating because it makes viewers see—and feel—the human cost. 5/5 stars.

TIFF '22 - Day 5: Viking

By Sarah Kurchak

Dir: Stéphane Lafleur. Canada, 2022. In the wildly underrated 1993 Canadian film I Love A Man In Uniform, writer/director David Wellington explored the downward spiral of a small-time actor who became far too involved in his biggest role to date. It was bizarre and bleak and very 1990s in all of the right ways. 

30 years later, a new Canadian classic in the making has emerged that tackles a similar story in a similarly zeitgeist-capturing way, but with a very different tone and different results.

Although he seems content enough in his middle-aged domestic life, David drops everything for two and half years when he’s selected to be part of a top secret project. His mission, should he choose to accept it—which he does without a second’s hesitation—is to participate in an elaborate simulation to predict the behaviour of a team of astronauts who have recently landed on Mars. The five-person team currently in space has started to report that they’re not getting along, and American and Canadian space officials are hoping that assembling five people with similar personalities and sending them out into the desert to live like their emotional space doppelgängers will provide some insight into how to solve their issues. 

David and his crew mates initially throw themselves into their roles, but fissures soon begin to emerge. Between the five people in the simulation. Between the simulated experience they’re supposed to be creating and their own realities. And between the individuals and their senses of self. Some members begin to check out. Others dig even deeper. Eventually both the participants and their mission spiral out of control. 

On paper, it sounds like the perfect setup for a twisted psychological thriller, but director Stéphane Lafleur does something arguably even more haunting with it: wry existential dread. The crew—especially David—aren’t losing their minds so much as they’re losing whatever belief they had that anything matters. It’s weird and funny and sad—but also maybe just a little hopeful. 

If I Love A Man In Uniform explored man’s search for meaning for an era that expressed its pain through disaffection and angst. Viking does it for a time where we express our deepest fears and feelings through bleakly funny memes. 3/5 stars.

TIFF '22 - Day 2: Will-o'-the-Wisp

By Sarah Kurchak

Dir: João Pedro Rodrigues. Portugal/France, 2022. João Pedro Rodrigues’s latest work has rightfully earned the reputation of being “indescribable” or “unclassifiable” since it premiered at Cannes last May. (And not simply earned in the sense that it has come to be suited to those descriptions. Earned in the sense that it has received proper payment for its efforts.) It’s a work so uniquely suited to its medium that any attempts to summarize it an another are doomed to fall short. 

But there are key moments and key concepts that a reviewer — or impassioned fan, or scandalized denouncer — can share that can give the uninitiated a general idea of what’s going. And whether or not it will be for them. 

For one, the film begins in the year 2069, nice implications thoroughly intended, where a farting and dying King Alfredo descends into revery at the sight of a toy firefighter. For another, it immediately flashes back to 2011, where a younger Alfredo is half-creepily and half-charmingly surrounding by children singing about the importance of our friends, the trees. The loss of these trees a few years later inspires the prince to volunteer as a firefighter, which sends him on a journey of love, climate crisis, lust, class struggle, and duty. Which sends the audience on a journey through naked and homoerotic recreations of classic art, erotically charged CPR lessons, an extended modern dance sequence based on the steps for putting someone into the recovery position, and a sex scene where the lovers’ race and class disparity is thrust as forcefully into each other’s faces as their dicks are, with strong undercurrents of anti-colonialism and environmentalism. 

Executed with a strange but heady mix of gleeful provocation and earnest investment in both the politics it explores and humanity it portrays, Will-o’-the-Wisp is both figuratively and literally ballsy. It might be too graphic for some tastes, too impassioned for others, and too strange for more. But if any of the above sounds appealing, it will probably be very much your thing. And the shock or confusion of others might add a touch to the enjoyment. 4/5 stars.

TIFF '22 - Day 2: Buffy Sainte-Marie: Carry It On

By Sarah Kurchak

Dir: Madison Thomas. Canada, 2022. What is 90 minutes compared to a 60 year career as vital and influential as Buffy Sainte-Marie. You could easily dedicate that much time to any single aspect of her story—like her early folk career, her activism, her groundbreaking appearances on Sesame Street, her groundbreaking efforts to create opportunities and proper representation for Indigenous actors, her groundbreaking work in digital media, her advocacy for Indigenous youth in education and the arts, her reflections on her life, her FBI file and radio blacklisting, her philosophies, her current career, or her influence on multiple generations of artists and activists—and still have to leave an embarrassment of riches on the cutting room floor. 

So it’s a thoroughly impressive feat that Buffy Sainte-Marie: Carry It On manages to tackle all of the above and more—and to do so in a way that never feels superficial or rushed. Using a mix of archival performance and interview footage, extensive new interviews with Sainte-Marie herself and a comprehensive collection of artistic peers, fellow activists, relations, media experts, and members of the generations she’s inspired (who can also be considered her peers, given how relevant her current artistic and activist output is), director Madison Thomas pieces together a thorough and thoughtful portrait of an unparalleled artist. 

Sainte-Marie’s open and reflective interviews give viewers insight into her life and work through her eyes. Commentary from the people who have been touched by her as a person, an artist, and an activist provides context that helps to illustrate just how brilliant and important she is. And the clips of performances allow us to experience a taste of that genius for ourselves. 

It could well leave you wanting more, but not due to any failings on the documentary’s part. Carry It On simply gives you such a good taste that it’ll make you want to dig deeper or revisit all things Buffy Sainte-Marie. 4/5 stars.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: Fall

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Fall (USA, 2022): The thing about bottle movies (films that revolve entirely about a singular event in a single location) is that they live and die on the strength of their premise. Fall has a very good one —two climbers trapped at the top of an antenna— but in an effort to stretch it to feature length, it introduces low-level drama, fake outs, and stilted dialogue, all of which subtracts more than add to the total. (Sample line: “Live is short, so do whatever makes you feel alive. Oscar Wilde, it’s not.)

Following a mountain climbing tragedy, Becky (Grace Caroline Currey, Shazam!) finds herself in a deep, lengthy funk. To infuse some joie de vivre in her, her best friend Hunter (Virginia Gardner, Runaways) invites her to climb a 2,000 ft. abandoned communication tower (suspect judgement there.) The structure in question—decommissioned, rusty, unkempt—is certain to give the leads a run for their money. They make it to the top, but getting back down is a whole new deal.

Fall is at its best when dealing with the challenges of being stuck In the middle of nowhere and no help in sight. Everything that could possibly go wrong does, and the fact the protagonists are mildly competent makes every complication more plausible. The film also succeeds at recreating vertigo (susceptible audiences beware).

It’s the wrapping that doesn’t do Fall any favors. There’s romantic triangle drama that undermines the empowerment message. The characters are paper thin and have a single defining trait: Becky is depressed and Hunter is an influencer (automatically hard to root for). Pro tip: Fleshing up your protagonists is bound to elevate a movie’s stakes. 2.5/5 stars.

Fall is now playing in theatres.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: Prey

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Prey (USA, 2022): By comparison, one can certainly argue that Prey is one of the better Predator movies. The Alien vs. Predator saga is indescribably bad and Shawn Black’s take on the character (The Predator) was overcomplicated yet flat: a main character is killed so unexpectedly fast, for many in the audience it didn’t even register.

This is not to say Prey is a great movie, as the bar is low. It does many smart things —simplification of the character’s ethos, First Nations setting, the casting of Amber Midthunder as the lead— but overall it’s a run-of-the-mill actioner good enough to make us wonder why it didn’t get a theatrical release.

As with every Predator movie, it opens in a conflict zone: a Comanche tribe fending off colonizers and trappers. Naru (Midthunder), a capable, whip-smart healer wants a shot at becoming a hunter, but the ruling patriarchy keeps her on the sidelines. She’s the one who witnesses first a spaceship landing in the forest and later an otherworldly creature making mincemeat of earthly creatures, her tribe’s best hunters, and a bunch of red-shirts… I mean, French trappers.

Armed only with her ingenuity and a small ax, Naru becomes a formidable opponent while the predator comes to regret underestimating her.

There’s nothing controversial or challenging about Prey. It stands for the right things and it’s as straightforward and predictable as it gets. To cater to the fanbase, the kills are numerous and the gore is plentiful. But I can’t say it’s memorable. 2.5/5 stars.

Prey is now available in Disney+.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: Downton Abbey: A New Era

By Suzy Castillo

Downton Abbey: A New Era (UK, 2022): Full disclosure, I’m a Downton Abbey and Hugh Dancy fan so this will not be an unbiased review. When Downton Abbey: The Motion Picture was about to be released in 2019, I posted on Facebook that I was probably the only Indigenous person who was excited to see it. My post was quickly flooded by comments from friends who were also Indigenous and fans of the TV show.

The thing is, Downton Abbey as a franchise is about as pro-colonialism as you can get, yet it’s hard not to be delighted by this idealized world. Even the Indigenous satirical news site “The Walking Eagle” couldn’t help but be amazed by Downton’s production values, yet wary of accidental colonialism.   

I’d describe Downton Abbey as a soap opera that will appeal to those who do not like soap operas. It follows the aristocratic Crowley family and their servants at their stately home, where afternoon tea and drama flow freely.

The good news is that even if you are unfamiliar with the television show, you may still be able to enjoy this film. If you are a fan of British productions or period dramas, this will be right up your alley. If none of those things appeal to you, then you better stock-up on popcorn before the film starts because this will be a long ride. 

Downton Abbey: A New Era picks up from where The Motion Picture left off. For fans of the show, this film—like the first—is like watching a whole season in one go. The basic plot of A New Era has half the Crowleys staying at Downton while a silent film crew takes over the estate. The other half of the family heads off on an adventure in the south of France. This section is a spoiler minefield. All you need to know is that the Dowager Countess (Maggie Smith) inherited a villa in the French Riviera.

The two divergent plots work and is probably as close to a novel approach as the franchise will get. We even get to see one or two actors who are not British and not white!

I was at first wary of the Sex and the City 2 vibes of having Downton hit the road. After all, the whole point of the franchise is about the family’s life in the English countryside. However, the Downton Abbey abroad plot works and adds new opportunities for drama and period costumes. In terms of the silent film plot, The director of the silent film is the charming Hugh Dancy and probably one of the few British actors who has yet to be featured by the franchise. The silent film plot takes a lot of cues from the plot of Singing in the Rain but is entertaining, nonetheless.

4/5 cups of tea. Downton Abbey: A New Era is now playing.

THIS WEEK IN MOVIES: Memory

By Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Memory (USA, 2022): I’ll be honest: the idea of reviewing another Liam Neeson shoot-em-up gave me pause. In the beginning of his reinvention as an action star, Neeson’s movies showed a level of craftsmanship worth some attention. The ones of late (Blacklight, The Marksman, Honest Thief) have felt like VOD fodder. Only the involvement of director Martin Campbell and supporting players Guy Pearce and Monica Bellucci convinced me of giving Memory a shot.

While Memory is above average (better dialogue, properly staged action sequences), it’s still not great. Campbell is capable of telling a story in a mildly compelling way, but it’s no match to the source material (the two-decades old Belgian flick The Memory of a Killer). Guy Pearce—basically a co-lead—picks up the slack, but the outcome is flat if a little bloodier than your standard Taken knockoff.

Neeson gets a slightly meatier character for a change. Big Liam plays Alex Lewis, a force of nature turned killer-for-hire who’s considering retirement. The motivation? Early-onset Alzheimer. He wants to enjoy his last few months without tracking and murdering people. Fair enough.

His employer has other plans. Alex’ proverbial final contract is a minor whose testimony may bring down a child prostitution ring and very high profile clients. He refuses to go through with it, a decision that puts him in the crosshairs of the cartels, the police and the FBI. The only one who thinks there could be more to the story is FBI detective Vincent Serra (Guy Pierce), but few listen to him.

Never mind it’s inherently funny that a movie about memory loss features the protagonist of Memento. Memory seriously lacks ideas of its own: think Taken (of course) with a dash of Sicario, a sprinkle of The Raid, and a splash of John Woo, only with pigeons instead of doves (they work for less). If “Mexico” or “Texas” feel a little off, it’s because the film was shot in Bulgaria. Why shoot on location when you can get a tax break?

While the ending is gimmicky, it requires from Neeson more of an effort compared to his output of late. Yet his reluctancy to stretch his acting skills beyond these formulaic action romps remains baffling. Maybe it’s time to stop humoring him. 2/5 stars. Memory is now playing in theatres.