Reviews

This is a movie that actually made me laugh out loud, frequently - and that's a rare thing. The subject matter is often dark, or simply sad, but the banter is hilarious, the superficially depressing subject matter providing background for fun, zany, harshly satirical dialogue. There is also a warm and optimistic personal growth story that emerges from the cast of bitter or dysfunctional characters and their storyline - particularly the central character, Maria.

Maria, believably played by Mariana Mazza, is a complete failure, an unemployed woman of 30 who lives with her terminally ill mother, and has no ambitions beyond a vague hope of becoming an actress - her comically awful audition for a TV commercial demonstrating her lack of talent in that area. Things begin to change when she applies to work as a substitute teacher, and is assigned to a class, where her sharp, vulgar, outspoken manner appeals to the students, and Maria gradually begins to find herself and recognize her own potential.

This is a largely dialogue-driven film. The amusingly scathing remarks by the overworked principal about her high school students, interactions among the students themselves, and Maria's talks with friends, are consistently caustic and funny. The family interactions are warm, but also brutally honest and full of sharp quips and dark humour. This is particularly true of Maria's relationship with her mother: their charming ability to speak freely and without boundaries is both funny and a little shocking, particularly when talking about the mother's imminent death. The family's grief following her death is strikingly genuine.

The film follows Maria's slow and awkward development into a more confident and capable person, through a series of mishaps and errors in judgment, ranging from stupid to borderline illegal. The high school students' problems, and Maria's efforts to help, are presented in a decidedly unsentimental way, and success is never guaranteed, making the story's positive aspects more realistic than usual. It is a genuinely enjoyable underdog success story, which stands out for its distinctly harsh, funny script.

I saw this unusual movie at TIFF, where it was presented in the Wavelength category - which is to say, experimental film. I'd be the first to admit I'm not well versed in the art of film, and some of the more avant-garde examples might well go over my head. This one is definitely avant-garde. That being said, it seems to me this movie missed the mark.

It's filmed in an interesting way, almost entirely close-ups of hands working on restoring or replicating various kinds of antiquities, artifacts, and in one case an elephant's tusk, using techniques from clay moulds to 3-D printing. The tusk images are preceded by beautiful close-ups of an elephant's craggy face, its eye. Voices in conversation music, workroom sounds can be heard but the people themselves aren't seen, only their hands and the items they're replicating.

The problem is, the film seems to be trying to make a point, but it doesn't even begin to come across through what is seen and heard. It could be intended as an observation about the real as opposed to the imitation, or the original vs the dupicate. It could even have something to do with conservation, relating to the images of an elephant and tusk. I see no way of knowing what the film is trying to say.

Director Jessica Rinland has a knack for presenting intriguing images; the film actually holds the attention longer than it should without a dramatic plot or discernible theme. I found myself cheering her on, hoping the movie would become less obscure. I suspect she could be an impressive filmmaker if she could bite the bullet and make her message clear to the average viewer.

This simple horror film takes the age-old fear of the sea serpent, modernizes it, and takes it to new heights. It starts with an unlikely heroine, nerdy graduate student Siobhan, who loves studying oceanography in virtual forms, and has to be pushed to get on a boat and examine it in real life. She finds herself on a small fishing boat, ill at ease with the boisterous crew, who start by exclaiming over the bad luck she, as a redhead, will bring to the voyage. Other seafaring myths and legends are of interest, including one, told to Siobhan by the boat's co-owner, Freya, which becomes relevant to the story. Some of the footage of undersea life not only further the story, but are remarkably beautiful. Siobhan does her best to fit in, and does make a connection with one or two of the crew members. Things take a sinister turn when the ship is impeded by a creature completely unfamiliar to either Siobhan or the crew. The more they investigate, the more dangerous the animal becomes. Suspense builds as the sea creature's intentions and abilities are gradually revealed, Siobhan tries to understand the creature's nature and possible weaknesses, and the crew works frantically to escape or summon help. The director has the sense to keep the monster mysterious as long as possible, adding to the tension. It's a well made, well acted, slow-burning horror story.

Angel is a love story, but a highly unusual one. It tells two stories at once: the literal, real life actions of its two protagonists, which are for the most part sordid and self-destructive; and the unseen reality of the love between them, and their incredibly unlikely yet firmly held hopes for the future.

Fae is a young prostitute in Dakar, Senegal. She retains her self-respect and optimism by refusing to identify herself as a whore; she insists, half-jokingly, "I'm not a prostitute; I'm a gazelle!" She even refuses to carry the mandatory state "health card" which identifies the bearer as a registered prostitute, rejecting all such labels even at the risk of legal trouble. She keeps herself neat and clean, chooses her clients carefully, and avoids the usual traps of drugs and depression. Her efforts and her hopefulness are touching, especially against the backdrop of the realities of her degrading and dangerous profession; she and her colleagues joke casually about dying young.

Thierry is, or has been, a star bicycle racer from Belgium, who has taken some time off after a racing mishap, and come to Dakar for a vacation. It gradually becomes clear that Thierry is not doing well: he is not only verging on depression, but is developing a serious drug addiction that may end his athletic career. His trip to Senegal is mainly for the purpose of a drug and alcohol binge. There are hints of self-destructiveness in his behaviour.

When Thierry and Fae meet, it is love at first sight, the Romeo and Juliet quality of their instant connection contrasting sharply with the squalid circumstances: Fae is at a bar looking for customers, and Thierry, at his friend's urging, picks her up. They spend the evening together, dancing, talking, going for a walk. The outward reality is that of a tourist partying with a local prostitute he has hired for the night. The deeper reality of their bond is delicately expressed through several means: surreal visual imagery, the voice-over narration of Fae's inner voice, or sometimes by words or expressions from the couple which show they both feel, at some level, the significance of their meeting. Light and colour are used creatively to set the tone of each scene.

As the night wears on, Thierry and Fae grow closer, but begin to encounter obstacles, at first from their surroundings, the attitudes of others, and from legal issues, but eventually from Thierry's unstable condition as well. Even the confident Fae is inhibited to some extent by her awareness of her status as a prostitute, and this becomes an additional impediment. The story becomes one of struggle between an unlikely, socially unthinkable love, and the outward obstacles and inner demons trying to thwart it.

The acting, by the lovely Fatou N'Diaye as Fae, and Vincent Rottiers as Thierry, is understated but excellent. The content, it should be mentioned, is dark and often graphic, and not for the sensitive; but the very bleak and sometimes gruesome story is told in an imaginative and unconventional way that makes the film interesting and worthwhile.

A well made documentary that covers the controversial issue of seal hunting from a largely overlooked perspective: that of the Inuit. In a region where conventional, supermarket food is either unavailable or incredibly expensive, they depend on hunting, including seal hunting, for food, and rely on the sale of sealskins for an income, enough to cover essentials like ammunition and gasoline for their snowmobiles. This precarious economy was disrupted when animal rights activists, outraged by the Atlantic baby seal hunt, succeeded in having sealskins banned in Europe. The ban caused what is described as the Inuit version of the Great Depression. Widespread poverty, forced relocation, and even an increase in suicide resulted.

The film covers the realities of seal hunting among the Inuit, simply but clearly. It explains why hunting is indispensable in this northern environment, and its significance to Inuit culture. When a seal is killed, its meat feeds not only one family, but typically is shared among the entire community. Seal hunting, including the sale of by-products like sealskin, is described as "an ethical and sustainable economy that feeds people..." We see that the sale of sealskins is, in most cases, a home business, rather than a huge, money-making industry. Individuals prepare, dry, and sell the sealskins to provide what is often the sole source of money for the family. The film follows a group of Inuit representatives as they work to publicize the suffering the sealskin ban inflicts on their people, to convince animal-rights activists that their actions have tragic consequences for the Inuit, and even address the European Union prior to a vote on the seal ban. Their efforts are often ingenious, although they admit that it is difficult to even convince Europeans to acknowledge Inuit concerns as significant, or to distinguish Inuit hunting from animal cruelty.

An interesting part of the film is a digression into cultural differences which hold the Inuit back from successful opposition. The Inuit have a strong cultural aversion to conflict and to open expressions of anger. This gives the anti-sealers a constant advantage during public demonstrations, something the Inuit representatives try to find ways around.

The film succeeds brilliantly in getting the concerns of the Inuit people across to an audience largely unfamiliar with their way of life, and possibly ignorant of how the seal ban has affected them. Their love of their northern landscape, their sense of community, their determination to preserve their way of life, are all expressed clearly, and should gain the sympathy of all but the most intractable viewers. Writer/director Alethea Arnaquq-Baril serves as guide and narrator, making a rarely heard perspective accessible to all.

The most promising part of Hibou is the introduction of the main character. The mild- mannered Rocky (Ramzy Bedia, also the movie's director and co-writer) is not merely overlooked socially, he is all but invisible. His co-workers forget he's there - literally; passers by fail to notice him; his boss doesn't hear him when he speaks to her.

One day, he wakes up to find an enormous owl perched in his living room. The astonished Rocky brings a photo of the bird to a pet shop, where the owner identifies it as a Grand Duke owl, but can offer no explanation of its presence. Rocky tries to shoo the owl out, with no success. He tries feeding it mice, which the bird declines.

Although it's never made clear, apparently we are meant to understand that being singled out by the owl somehow changes Rocky's self image. So far, it's a concept that might work. However, the story disintegrates at this point into a series of disjointed and silly subplots and brief comedy episodes, which seem to have very little to do with each other and which have no common theme or even consistency.

Rocky suddenly decides to begin wearing a giant owl costume everywhere he goes, for reasons which are not made clear. After multiple scenes of Rocky going here and there in his owl suit, apparently added for the comedic value of a giant owl turning up in unsuitable public places, he encounters a woman wearing a panda costume, and they form a romantic alliance. They seem to be meant for one another due to their mutual habit of going about dressed as giant animals.

The romance itself is a confusing and badly written series of trivial events, winding down into an attempt at summing up the entire story with little attention to continuity. Worst of all is the conclusion, in which elements of the story are given unexpected happy endings or strange plot twists, or else are revealed as being imaginary or false, all seemingly at random.

Add to all this the incidental fact that the movie's title was translated into English as "Owl You Need Is Love". Annoyingly bad, but the absurd title actually seems appropriate to the movie itself.

The only reason I'm giving Hibou four stars, rather than one or two, is because the performances were good, and the overall look of the movie interesting. Bedia, as a director, might be able to turn out a decent film if he either wrote a coherent story, or had someone else write his scripts for him.

This is one of the most charming animated shorts I've ever seen, in terms of plot, technique and overall look. It describes the experience of a long drive in a car full of children with accuracy and deft humour.

The story, like the animated images, is simple but captures the viewer's attention. The characters are true to life, and the interactions, both friendly and contentious, between the four sisters is all too realistic. The gradual foray into a world of imagination was handled with an engaging simplicity, appropriate to the setting and characters.

Most of all, the use of animation techniques and imagery during fantasy sequences is clever and original, and very appealing.

Altogether a creative, well made, enjoyable little film.

A very broad satire which pushes beyond parody to the frankly ridiculous. The mock- solemnity of the narrator set it off perfectly. A truly hilarious, enjoyable 11 minutes.

That's all I can come up with to say about a film this short, but IMDb requires a minimum of ten lines of text in order to publish a review, so I'll add a few more words. The director and writer, John Barnard, has a sense of humour that would be a great asset in making feature-length comedies, satires, parodies, or even dramas with a sarcastic tone. His odd viewpoint would be welcome in Canadian cinema. I hope he goes on to really establish himself as a screenwriter.

This is a romantic comedy for people who hate romantic comedies.

The story is similar to a lot of rom-coms: Wallace (Daniel Radcliffe), a young man with a history of failed relationships, become the platonic friend of Chantry (Zoe Kazan), who is living with a long term boyfriend. He falls for her, and has to decide how to proceed. The background of their respective friends' love lives provides humour and contrast. But this film is a notch above other films in the category.

First, it's actually funny. The quips and banter between characters, particularly between the two main characters, is clever and often hilarious. In fact, the dialogue is the best part of the movie.

Second, the plot is not completely full of contrived, unlikely situations designed to either get the couple together or put them in a "comically" embarrassing predicament. There are a few, but they are not too outlandish and make sense as part of the story.

Third, the ethical issues involved in romantic decisions, such as becoming attracted to someone already committed to another person, are not glossed over. Wallace even refers directly to the attitude (common in rom-coms) that being in love somehow excuses any kind of bad or dishonest behaviour. Wallace has been cheated on himself, and feels it is important to stick to his principles. Chantry's boyfriend is not merely an obstacle to the couple's happy ending; he is a nice person who can be hurt by disloyalty. The movie doesn't treat love as a game, and that's refreshing.

Fourth, it's possible for the audience to understand exactly what the couple see in each other - something I find rare in most romantic comedies. Wallace and Chantry are both charming, clever, funny people who make a connection on many levels, and it's easy for us to imagine them happily together, and to cheer them on.

A very well done, enjoyable and truly romantic movie.

Cold Souls starts with a very odd, even silly premise and takes it as far as it will go, treating the outlandish story with perfect seriousness. As a result, the movie is more than just a goofy sci-fi comedy - although it has its funny moments. There are elements of humour, of tragedy, of suspense, and even some gangster action.

The basic story: Paul Giamatti, playing a version of himself, is an actor who is struggling with negative emotions while preparing for a role in Uncle Vanya. In an effort to resolve these issues, he submits to a newly developed procedure which removes a person's soul, placing it in storage until wanted. He is relieved of strong feelings, but runs into unexpected problems trying to conduct his life as a soulless person. The situation is further complicated by a thriving black market for donor souls.

Paul Giamatti's performance is definitely one of the best things about the film. I particularly enjoyed Giamatti rehearsing scenes from Uncle Vanya, first as his ordinary self; then as himself minus a soul; and finally, as himself with a donor soul from a female Russian poet.

This is an entertaining movie overall. The plot is full of continual unexpected twists, some funny, some rather dark, and never becomes dull or predictable.

Far From Heaven, while entertaining in its own right, would be especially enjoyable to fans of Fifties movies. It is not just set in the Fifties, it appears to be a Fifties movie, in its look, plot structure, even acting styles. Present-day attitudes are overlaid on the story, but very subtly. This is more than a tribute to Fifties films; it is a Fifties film.

The story itself is typical of films from that era. A seemingly happy, conventional, middle class Connecticut couple experiences turmoil when the husband (Dennis Quaid) confesses to sexual confusion. His wife (beautifully played by Julianne Moore) turns to a black friend for friendship and comfort, which shocks their circle of acquaintances and causes her seemingly perfect life to be thrown into confusion.

It is a well written, consistently engaging story with a good cast. Making it as a re-created Fifties movie adds irony and interest. A very enjoyable film.

This is a simple but fascinating, often darkly humorous, look at a small town mystery, and the reaction of its inhabitants, based on the book of the same name by Poe Ballantine.

The background story: Steven Haataja, a brilliant theoretical mathematician, takes a position as math professor at a small state college in Chadron, Nebraska. He seems to have settled in and been accepted by the locals. Three months later, just before the end of the semester, he suddenly disappears. No explanation can be found. Some time later, his dead body is found under bizarre circumstances. The police are unable to come to a conclusion about his death or identify a likely suspect if he was, in fact, murdered. The resulting information vacuum is filled by suspicion and rampant, sometimes strange, speculation by the people of Chadron.

This is the situation that David Jarrett explores in his documentary. But instead of limiting himself to the contradictory forensic evidence relating directly to Professor Haataja's death, he focuses on the town itself. Interviewing author Poe Ballantine, the local sheriff, Haataja's fellow professors, and various town residents, he provides an overview of a quaint, conservative, friendly town, outwardly conventional but with unknown qualities lurking under the surface. The only editorializing comes indirectly, through the careful arrangement and juxtaposition of the interview statements and other footage, but the technique works extremely well.

Jarrett lets the residents tell the story, but includes information from other sources which adds a great deal to our picture of Chadron. For example, he narrates town images with readings from the sheriff's record of emergency calls. Accounts of, for instance, a request for help with a werewolf at the roadside, followed up by a call to cancel police assistance because the werewolf had morphed back into human form, sends the message that Chadron may not be as ordinary as it appears.

One thing that makes this film intriguing is that the collection of ordinary, benign, small town people present so many possible suspects and possible motives - unlikely in every case, but always just barely possible.

Camp X Ray is not a political film, despite being set in a location that is synonymous with controversy. It is a story about human connection under the most unlikely circumstances.

The central character is Private Amy Cole, an uncertain, socially awkward young woman who joined the army hoping to distinguish herself, expand her horizons, and, as she says, do some good. Kristen Stewart completely inhabits the character in a precise and subtle performance that shows Cole's vulnerability beneath her facade of toughness.

Guantanamo Bay prison is introduced first. We find out, during Cole's and the other new recruits' orientation, that the inmates are not guarded to keep them from escaping, but to keep them from dying, their situation being almost guaranteed to bring on suicide attempts. They are watched constantly to prevent any of them from killing or injuring himself. They are "detainees," the soldiers are told, never to be called prisoners. Why? Because, Cole blandly explains, prisoners are protected to some extent by the Geneva Conventions, while detainees are not. Those two facts set a sinister tone for the unfolding story.

The actual mistreatment of the detainees, such as sleep deprivation, is handled nonchalantly by the soldiers, and treated almost as minor background details. There's no political commentary here; both terrorism and torture are just background scenery, making their point very subtly. Even the question of Ali's apparent innocence of terrorist crimes is not focused on, just mentioned in passing; it's irrelevant to the fact that he'll remain in prison, no matter what.

Peyman Moaadi, who was excellent in A Separation, is equally good here as Ali, a long-term detainee. This is a much more over the top performance, but that may have been necessary just to get the character across when he was mostly limited to speaking through a tiny barred window in the door of his cell. His portrayal of a man trying to ward off insanity and hopelessness was often incredibly moving. I enjoyed watching him and Stewart bounce off each other, her low-key performance and his more intense one working perfectly together.

An interesting choice is the way the character of Ali was first introduced, when Cole is assigned to bringing the prison library cart around to the cells. The theatre audience laughed in surprise when he started complaining about the last Harry Potter book not being available. It really was incongruous: an accused terrorist, looking the stereotypical part with his grim expression, dark beard and Middle Eastern accent, peering through his cell door and demanding his guard's opinion of Professor Snape. Right away, preconceptions were rather obviously being scattered, as when Cole remarks that a certain movie probably was banned where Ali was from, and he responds, "What, in Germany?" I think critics were right to say that the detainees were a bit stereotyped, all scowling, angry, Arabic speaking men, except for Ali, who speaks fluent English, is open to Western literature, and unlike his fellow inmates, seems to have no problem relating to women. But they all come across as desperate, lonely, miserable people, who may respond to their situation in different ways. Ali does begin with a hostile act toward Cole, but in general is just seeking some kind of human contact. Other detainees are, as the case may be, suicidal, violent, or withdrawn in reaction to their confinement; but only Ali is actually given a real personality.

The slow pace of the rest of the movie seems to be deliberate. We get a feeling for how slowly the time passes here, with endless hours of pacing the prison hallways, monitoring the detainees, the monotony only broken by occasional acts of violence or rebellion. It's draining on the soldiers themselves, more so for the detainees. Also, time is taken to let Cole and Ali's friendship gradually develop, as Cole is very reserved and careful when talking to him at first, as her position requires her to be. Her own social isolation parallels Ali's, and this is one reason they connect. She doesn't really fit in with her fellow soldiers, who are mostly not inclined to think too deeply about the significance of what they are doing in the prison or why. I should add that it's pretty clear the critics who describe Cole's and Ali's relationship as romantic in any sense are completely wrong. There's absolutely no indication of that, beyond a little snide innuendo from one of the soldiers. Cole and Ali connect platonically, as one human being to another.

Some critics have said the soldiers were all interchangeable "tough guy" stereotypes. I don't think that's really the case; they are individuals, but from Cole's perspective, none of them can offer her real friendship. The closest thing to a friend she has is a fellow private named Rico, who is friendly to Cole but easily accepts the party line, and can't relate to her growing ambivalence about her duties at the camp. Cole once makes a tentative move toward a sexual relationship with another soldier, but this ends badly when she refuses him and he retaliates. In spite of their differences, Ali ends up being the person she can relate to most easily.

The movie's climax, which is unfortunately a little clumsy, culminates in an important breakthrough in trust between the characters which is very moving.

As a story about the capacity for humans to connect against all odds, this movie was a great success.