I discovered two things immediately prior to the North American premiere of Sicario, the latest from the always interesting Denis Villeneuve. One, I had been mispronouncing the film’s title this whole time (there’s a hard “c” apparently). And two, I was not even close to dressed properly. I shivered for forty-five minutes in line as it poured on me. TIFF- as well as being the unofficial start of awards season – may be the unofficial end of summer.
The dreary weather suits a screening of any Villeneuve film just fine and Sicario is no exception. We walked by a TV reporter that morning who was declaring this to be the most gruesome thing you’re likely to see at the festival. During the question period after last night’s screening, the director attempted to explain to an audience member why he was so fascinated with such dark themes. “Well, I’m a spoiled Quebecer whose biggest problem is winter,” he joked.
I had high hopes for Sicario, being a fan of some of his most recent work (Incendies and Prisoners). His films tend to be dark, even to a jaded Asshole like myself, with deliberate pacing and an excellent tone He demonstrates these qualities here but didn’t quite manage to get under my skin in the same way, despite an impressively unnerving score.
Sicario is an action movie of sorts (Villeneuve joked in his introduction that he’d always dreamt of making one) about the war on drugs across the US-Mexico border, raising the usual questions about how far is too far when battling evildoers. The shootouts – as well as the sometimes unbearable suspense that lead up to them – are shot and edited expertly. Benicio Del Toro and Josh Brolin, both present to answer our questions last night, play elusive characters whose motives we’re never sure of and are always interesting to watch. Emily Blunt, as the idealistic FBI agent who believes strongly in the rule of law, plays against type with mixed results. Blunt even feigned taking offense to one audience members question to Villeneuve about why he decided to cast her.
Sicario is a tight and brutal film and I was thrilled to be at the North American premiere, even if it meant standing out in the rain. I don’t think it works as well as Incendies or Prisoners though, mostly because the questions it raises on the subject of right or wrong in the war on drugs aren’t quite new enough, even among Benicio Del Toro movies.
Not only was my promise to Jay, based on my previous TIFF experience, that getting tickets to her favourite films would be a cinch with a festival pass a little too optimistic, it turns out picking them up once they’re already paid for can be a nightmare of its own. Jay, Sean, and I stood in three different lines at once (thankfully we had strength in numbers) and barely caught our noon screening of Demolition this afternoon.
From up in the balcony at Roy Thomson Hall, I advised Jay and Sean to learn to love the TIFF commercials at the beginning of the screenings because they’ll be seeing a lot of them. There were more than I remembered it turned out and the woman sitting next to me was already yawning by the time the movie started.
I am happy, even relieved, to report that Demolition, the much-anticipated collaboration between Jake Gyllenhaal and Jean-Marc Valle, was well worth the wait. Jake and co-star Naomi Watts may have been no-shows at the third and final screening but a sure-of-himself Vallee was onstage to introduce and answer questions about the most “rock and roll movie I’ve ever made”.
Gyllenhaal, on a hot streak lately, is never short of compelling as Davis, a successful investment banker who becomes both destructive and self-destructive after the death of his wife. Davis becomes obsessed with taking things apart and discovering how they work. With nothing left to lose, he starts saying what’s on his mind, giving Jake a chance to practice more of that fast-talking and disconnected delivery that worked so well in Nightcrawler. Because Davis, unlike his character in Nightcrawler is anything but a psychopath, he gets a chance to being even more depth to his performance.
Also taking elements that have served him well in the past but taking it much further, Vallee – as pointed out by one member of the audience during the question period- has become an expert at stories of rebuilding and starting over after a tragic loss. The painful and beautiful memories are handled similarly as in last year’s Wild, with the sound and images as fading echoes instead of traditional flashback scenes it works even better here, with the director having a much richer and surprisingly funny- script to work with.
This marks the first time I – usually too excited at a screening – have ever cried at TIFF but Demolition really is that powerful. I’m already emotionally drained with 11 movies left to go.
Matt wrote last week about the choices he made for his viewing pleasure (and hopefully your reading one) at the Toronto International Film Festival, slated to open with a bang (or rather, a star-studded screening of Demolition) on September 10.
I held mine back because the truth is, the TIFF selection process was not a fun one for me. TIFF has weird rules where it takes your money and then weeks later gives you a “randomly” selected window of just 60 minutes for making your choices – I’m seeing maybe 20 movies out of over 430, by my count, so that’s an awful lot of frantic sifting, choosing, replacing, and scheduling to do in just 60 minutes. It goes without saying that I was “randomly” selected to choose more than 24 hours later than Matt, which meant that a lot of my first, second, and third choices were “off-sale”. Off-sale doesn’t mean sold out, it means that they’re holding some tickets back for when they go on sale to the general public. And nothing against the general public, but I paid my oodles of money, I’m travelling in from out of town, and I don’t think it’s very nice or very fair to force me (since I’ve prepaid for tickets) to see movies that aren’t selling as well, when someone who pays a nominal $25 on the day of will have better luck than me.
I’ll stop my belly-aching now. We’re still pretty lucky to be going at all and I know that. So, without further whining about first world problems, my TIFF picks:
Demolition: I’m actually going to see this one with both Matt and Sean, so it’s a rarity, and I’m not only looking forward to seeing what director Jean-Marc Vallée can squeeze out of Jake Gyllenhaal, I also can’t wait to discuss it with my favourite movie-going friends.
The Lobster: This one is quirky as hell and right up my alley, and I never thought I’d be saying that about a Colin Farrell movie. Newly heartbroken, he checks into a hotel where he’s under the gun to find a mate within a super tight time period – or risk being turned into an animal and put out to pasture? It sounds more like a child’s drawing than a movie, but there you have it.
Eye in the Sky: We ‘re doing the red-carpet treatment of this one on Friday night, and Dame Helen Mirren is confirmed to attend. She’s looking less glamorous in the still from this movie, playing a Colonel who’s spent a long time tracking down a radicalized citizen who must be stopped. But when drone operator Aaron Paul reports that a small child has wandered into the kill zone, the team has to decide whether the casualty of this little girl is acceptable collateral damage. Yowza!
The Martian: You may know that I have been frothing about this movie for months now. I luuuurved the book and passed it along to all of my literate friends but then waved a flag of skepticism when I heard that a) it’s directed by Ridley Scott b) it’s a reteaming of Matt Damon and Jessica Chastain, lately seen together in Interstellar. But I hope hope HOPE that they “science the hell” out of this thing and blow my fucking socks off.
The Danish Girl: Eddie Redmayne is almost certainly in the running for a second Oscar for his portrayal of Lili Elbe, the 1920s Danish artist who was one of the first known recipients of sexual reassignment surgery. The trailer alone looks so lush that I’m drooping to see it – which is fortunate, because TIFF stuck me with TWO pairs of tickets to this. Woops! Anyone know someone who’s looking for a pair?
Freeheld: We’re seeing this one on flashy premiere night as well and will see both Julianne Moore and Ellen Page walk the red carpet. They star as a real-life couple from New Jersey who just want Moore’s pension to go to Page when Moore passes away. It was a huge case for LGBT rights and I’m betting that both of these ladies really bring it.
The Dressmaker: Funny story. I read this book recently, in anticipation of this movie. And I really, really liked it. Only: it’s about a young dressmaker who survives the sinking of the Titanic thanks to her wealthy employer. Knowing that Kate Winslet was set to star, I was shocked that she’d choose to go back to Titanic in this way. I mean, if anyone can put it off, it’s Winslet, but still. The more I read, the more I thought maybe she’s not playing the dressmaker, maybe she’s playing the plucky journalist. I still couldn’t believe the press wasn’t making a bigger deal out of this, but it wasn’t until I finished the book that I realized that I’d read the wrong Dressmaker. Same title, different author. Oopsie daisy again. But I’m confident this one’s good too, and it’s Kate Winslet, so we’re almost guaranteed to see boob.
Into the Forest: Here’s a movie that looks so familiar to me in the trailer that I believe I have read the book. I do not know for sure that it’s based on a book and I’m not looking it up. This way even I’ll be surprised (or, REALLY surprised!). Evan Rachel Wood and Ellen Page star as sisters who live in a remote cabin in the woods. The world is on the verge of the apocalypse and their location keeps them safe, but also leaves them vulnerable…
Anomalisa: This is the Charlie Kaufman-directed stop-motion animated ode to a motivational speaker and his bleak existence. I have no idea what to expect from it and that’s why I’m so crazy excited. It could go a lot of ways but no matter what, I do believe I’ll be seeing something special.
About Ray: Have you ever attended a red carpet event in the middle of the afternoon? Me neither! TIFF is so jam-packed with gliterry premieres that it starts packing them in at odd times just to get through them all. I’m tickled we got tickets to this (hard won, believe me) and I’m anxious to see if it’s as good as it looks, and if this and The Danish Girl will cancel each other out (though this one is also about a gender transition, it’s set in modern day, with Elle Fanning as the young woman who wants to be a young man, Naomi Watts as her mother, and Susan Sarandon as her mother.
Miss You Already: This might be a little too chick-flicky to be regular festival fare, but it’s Toni Collette so say what you want, but my ass will be in that seat at the ungodly hour of 8:45 in the goddamned morning. Toni and Drew Barrymore play lifelong friends whose friendship hits a bit of a roadbump when one discovers she’s pregnant just as the other gets a cancer diagnosis. Note to Sean: bring tissues, or an extra-absorbent shirt.
Maggie’s Plan: Starring the delightful Greta Gerwig, Maggie’s plan to have a baby on her own is derailed when she falls in love with a married man (Ethan Hawke) and destroys his relationship with his brilliant wife (Julianne Moore). I like Gerwig a whole lot but to be honest, I’m really wondering how this dynamic is going to work – and I’m super intrigued to find out how Bill Hader fits into the mix. Julianne Moore is going to be one busy lady at this festival!
The Family Fang: Directed by and starring Jason Bateman, he plays a brother to Nicole Kidman, both returning to the family home in search of their super-famous parents who seem to have disappeared. Jason Bateman is a little hit or miss for me but I committed on the off chance that the man playing his father – legendary Christopher MotherFucking Walken – might be in attendance. He’s not slated as far as I can tell, but I’d kick myself right in the sitter if he was and I wasn’t.
Legend: Tom Hardy plays real-life English gangsters. Yes, plural: the Kray twins. This dual role is getting a lot of buzz and since I seem to be mesmerized by Hardy in nearly everything he does, I’m super excited to check this one out.
Biggest TIFF regret: Missing Room. We’ll be back and forth between Ottawa and Toronto, but this particular movie only plays twice during the whole festival, and neither screening is on a day I’m there. I loved this book and am anxious to see the movie treatment. Good or bad, I want to pass judgement. I want to feast my little eyes. I am heartbroken to miss this one.
Two questions:
We still have some tickets to alocate. Any suggestions?
If you were in The Lobster hotel and failed to find a mate – what animal would you be turned into. Me? An otter. Definitely an otter.
We’ll be posting updates as we go, and be sure to check out our Twitter @assholemovies for photos of the red carpet premieres!
I haven’t exactly planned on taking three months off from Wandering Through the Shelves’ Thursday Movie Picks. Every week I plan a post for Thursday but haven’t seemed to manage getting my shit together in time.
I couldn’t miss the chance to talk about train movies though. I like trains. Wanderer’s timing is impeccable as usual given that my father just retired at the beginning of the month after 39 (I think) years working for CN Rail. Also, Jay, Sean, and I leave for TIFF today. Taking the train to Toronto is a treasured TIFF tradition for me and how fitting to pay homage to trains today as we start a new annual tradition of The Assholes at TIFF.
From Russia With Love (1963)– One of my favourite Bond movies devotes more than 30 minutes of its 115-minute running time to a chapter aboard the Orient Express. Sean Connery’s 007 and gorgeous Russian spy Tatiana Romanova dodge Russian agents and the great Robert Shaw’s sadistic Grant and still find time to shag in the berth and visit the dining car. Bond and Grant’s final fight in the cramped sleeping quarters ranks among one of the best fights in the whole series.
Murder on the Orient Express (1974)– Still on the Orient Express, still Connery. Sidney Lumet’s murder mystery is set almost entirely aboard the train and is apparently the only adaptation of an Agatha Christie novel that Christie ever liked. Lauren Bacall, Anthony Perkins, and Ingrid Bergman stand out among a dream cast that has almost as many Oscar winners and nominees as it does speaking parts.
Snowpiercer (2014)– Living on a train that circles the globe sounded like my dream come true until director Joon-Ho Bong showed me all the things that could go wrong. A strict class system keeps the poor in the back of the train in claustrophobic conditions while those at the front of the train call the shots. We get to see more and more of the train as a group of rebels from the caboose make a daring run to the front. The design of the train is just brilliant with every car looking significantly different from the last.
Did you know some of your favourite film makers have made not just great movies, but some unforgettable music videos as well? Some directors got their start on MTV, but most on this list are just trying something different.
Antoine Fuqua, best known for directing Training Day and more recently Southpaw, got his start in music videos, shooting songs for Toni Braxton and Prince, but his most famous, arguably, is the one he did for Coolio: Gangsta’s Paradise, which took home best rap video at the MTV video awards in 1996. It’s been 20 years and a couple of weeks since its release but if you hear this song, it transports you back to that magical, Michelle Pfeiffery time in 1995 when rap was still a bit on the fringes, but Fuqua (hired by Jerry Bruckheimer) dared to pair Coolio with America’s super-white sweetheart in a series of face-offs that really normalized things and turned the genre on its ear. “I wasn’t completely happy with Antoine Fuqua’s concept at first, [says Coolio, to Rolling Stone] because I wanted some low-riders and some shit in it; I was trying to take it ‘hood. But he had a better vision, thank God, than I did. I couldn’t completely see his vision, but I trusted him.” The video is dark, shadowy, and intense, with choice clips from the film highlighting its rougher themes, proving Fuqua had style.
Gus Van Sant, director of Milk and Good Will Hunting, did a video for Red Hot Chili Peppers after directing Flea in My Own Private Idaho. The band credits Van Sant’s video for Under The Bridge with helping them break into the mainstream. The video features the band in a studio with lots and lots of projected lights and layered images superimposed over their faces, and backdrops of deserts and ocean, and then shifts its focus to the streets of Los Angeles, where Anthony Kiedis sings at various city folk, the camera lingering on characters as they go by. This video is just a small dose of Van Sant’s melding of stylistic devises that audiences would come to know him for.
David Fincher, weirdo director of Fight Club and The Social Network, has done a number of music videos, including Billy Idol’s Cradle of Love and Madonna’s Vogue, but I love the one he did for Aerosmith because it’s SO Fincher. In fact, it was banned from MTV for its gruesome, realistic scenes that kinda sorta alluded to incest. It was a landmark video for its narrative structure, blue mood lighting, and tricky not-for-primetime subject matter.
Michael Bay is my personal nemesis, and director of winners such as Pearl Harbor, and Transformers. But did you know that before Bad Boys, there was Meatloaf? That’s right – in the greatest pairing since Avril Lavigne and the guy from Nickelback, Michael Bay staged the epic I’d Do Anything For Love video – ridiculous and grandiose, there is nothing these two wouldn’t do. No expense or piece of storyline was spared; the budget is said to have been over $4 million dollars, but there is a helicopter and 2 hours of makeup application for a 6 minute video, so that’s reasonable.
Sofia Coppola, feted director of Lost in Translation, once did a video for the White Stripes: I Just Don’t Know What to Do With Myself. It’s a cover song, obviously, and it needed a fab director to take a Burt Bacharach ditty that Dusty Springfield made famous, and putting their own mark on it. Coppola decided to keep it simple: Kate Moss pole dances, in black and white. Why? “Because I would like to see it. [says Sofia] That’s the way I work: I try to imagine what I would like to see.” It has a Bob Fosse\Factory feel and updates the vintage classic. But this is Virgin Suicides Sofia Coppola we’re talking about; the video is sexy, sure, but it’s also lonely. Moss is out there alone. No audience. There’s emptiness mixed with her particular brand of eroticism. But it certainly seems that she knows exactly what to do with herself. And now you might have a few ideas of what to do with her too.
And how about that Spike Lee? He’s gotta be the obvious one on this list, right? The director of Do The Right Thing was also behind the camera for Public Enemy’s iconic video. Videos actually; one was made to highlight the film, but a second was made with thousands of extras simulating a political rally in Brooklyn. It really captures the emotions, and the anger really, of the song’s lyrics. This song was conceived was Lee’s behest, and this is man who does not avoid controversy. The video was a megaphone and Lee knows exactly where to point it.
Brian de Palma is maybe my favourite on this list. You know him as the director of Scarface and Carrie, but did you know he also directed the video for Bruce Springsteins’ Dancing in the Dark? Neither a psychological thriller nor graphically violent, Dancing in the Dark doesn’t even appear to pay homage to Hitchcock. Are we sure it’s de Palma? Apparently this is what he does when he’s between movies. He makes music videos as business cards: this gun’s for hire.
And speaking of out of character, how about this New Order video for Touched By The Hand of God? It’s Kathryn Bigelow at the helm, responsible for the inspired casting of New Order themselves to play hair-band versions of themselves. No hints of The Hurt Locker here, Bigelow instead opts to parody glam metal. And where De Palma used a young Courtney Cox, Bigelow went with a young Bill Paxton. Crazy, right?
Tim Burton, the man behind Edward Scissorhands and a whole genre’s worth of quirky gothic horror stuff, also does music videos in his spare time. Hired by The Killers when they all had flagging careers, he in turn tossed a day’s work to Winona Ryder who was happy to get paid scale to play some sort of weird, bug-eyed wax doll. I think. It’s definitely cinematic and Burtony and it doesn’t make me like, or understand, the song any better.
This list would not be complete without Mr. Scorsese. He directed the epic music video for Michael Jackson’s Bad, which (together with Thriller, directed by John Landis) cemented these sprawling, story-telling videos. It co-stars a young Wesley Snipes and is heavily influenced by West Side Story. It is 18 minutes long (take that, Thriller!) and even had a screenwriter. Jackson plays a student named Daryl who’s home after a semester at a private school. To prove to Snipes that he’s still “bad” he…well, he dances. As you do. He snaps, the video turns to colour, and here you have it:
This list is already long but believe me, it could go on for ages. Directors be busy!
Gaspar Noe (Enter the Void) – Nick Cave, We No Who U R
Michel Gondry (Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind) – Chemical Brothers, Star Guitar
Ron Howard (Cocoon) – Michael Sembello, Gravity HOLY SHIT YOU NEED TO CHECK THIS OUT
Do any of these surprise you? Do you see any of the director’s style shining through these music videos?
UPDATE:
There is no way in hell I could fail to mention that Canadian indie director whizkid Xavier Dolan recently directed the history-making, ultra-lush Adele video to end all videos. It’s the first music video ever to be shot in IMAX, in stark black and white. Set in the outskirts of Montreal, it’s an emotional one, beautiful and well suited for Adele’s overdue comeback. It racked up a record-breaking 27 million views in the first 24 hours of its release – take that, Taylor Swift. Apparently it was Adele who reached out to Dolan, and he’s still reeling that she even knows who he is.
A few weeks ago we were at the cottage with our friends when someone pulled out a dusty old board game – Clue. Although the game is basically part of our cultural lexicon, I had never actually played it (although I vaguely remember seeing some clips from a VHS version that must have come out in the 80s – does anyone else remember this?) so around the board we went. I knew fairly quickly that it was Mrs. White in the kitchen with the wrench, but the trick is that you must get to kitchen to finger the murderer, and I couldn’t get there to save my life (so to speak).
This past weekend, my friends and I went to something I tentatively described to Sean’s grandmother as a “live version of Clue”, although that’s not a very precise analogy. It’s called Escape Manor, and it has several rooms into which people pay to be locked, and then they spend 45 sweaty minutes scrambling to decode clues to get themselves out. In our “scenario” , the 5 of us were locked into a prison cell (Matt hand-cuffed to the bars) and we were given the customary 45 minutes to escape, or meet our death via electric chair. The game is designed so that less than 10% of people succeed. It’s a real thinker, and we were really impressed with ourselves for figuring out cyphers and codes and puzzling out all kinds of clues, and being willing to stick our hands down a prison toilet, just in case.
Surprisingly, during neither of these encounters did Matt once bring up a man I once dated very VERY briefly, but who stayed a consistent punchline between us for the 6 or 7 years hence. Let’s call him Garrett. We joke about him for so many reasons – because he affected an Irish accent mid-way through our date, disappeared regularly for a “dart”, regaled me with his Rideau actor’s award (while conveniently avoiding the fact that while he described his employment as “acting” , it was actually “waiting tables” that failed to pay his bills – I found that out when grabbing burgers with a boyfriend, during which time Garrett flirted with me AGGRESSIVELY in front of said boyfriend in between refilling our drinks and despite the fact that I had not returned his calls in a year). Usually if Matt finds a way to bring up this guy (or a lengthy string of others, let’s face it), he pounces on it. And the thing we reminisce about most often is this weird text I once received from him that pronounced, out of the blue, that Clue (the movie) was “Tim Curry at his best.”
I watched it today, annnnnnd. Sorry, Garrett, wherever you are, but I must disagree.
The movie Clue is set in 1950s New England. Six strangers have been invited to a mansion for a party. They are met by a butler (Tim Curry) who gives each their pseudonym to protect their true identities. During dinner, Mr. Boddy arrives, and it is revealed that he is their connection – indeed, all are being blackmailed by him for various unpatriotic behaviours (Mr. Green’s offense is to simply be a homosexual employed at the State Department, so you get some real 1980s flavour included in the price of your ticket).
Professor Plum: Christopher Lloyd
Mrs. Peacock: Eileen Brennan
Mrs. White: Madeline Kahn
Miss Scarlet: Leslie Ann Warren
Colonel Mustard: Martin Mull
Mr. Green: Michael McKean
Mr. Boddy, for reasons the script fails to justify, gifts each one with a weapon. Then the lights go out for a five count, a throaty scream is heard, and the first body is found. Then another, and another. The group tries to solve the murder but of course they all suspect each other – rightly. The script is paper-thin, as I mentioned, and the movie is pretty terrible. Leslie Ann Warren spends the movie Jessica Rabbiting around, making her bosoms heave in a bad impression of a middle-aged sex kitten. None of the wounds bleed. No one can explain why they haven’t called the cops. An actual quote: “Three murders! Six altogether. This is getting serious.”
It flopped when it was released but has since garnered an implausible cult following by weird redheads named Garrett. There were three different endings filmed, and they were distributed to different theatres, which means that there’s no possible way to watch the movie and actually sleuth things out. There are no clues in Clue. There’s just a jumbled explanation at the end that could be immediately invalidated simply by rewinding the movie. But nowadays you can watch the movie and see all three endings, through the magic of bonus features, and decide which is most absurd. A little hint: “Communism was just a red herring.”
No Escape: Owen Wilson plays a father who is sent overseas to an unnamed Asian country (the “fourth-world according to fake-wife Lake Bell) to help build their waterworks. Of course, his family’s arrival coincides terribly with a coup within this country, and an uprising of the people, particularly against foreigners who have taken over – you got it, their waterworks. So Owen Wilson has to call on reserves of badassery he didn’t know he had to get his wife and two daughters to safety. And he fails. So thank god for Pierce Brosnan who saves his ass a number of times, but sadly, not innumerably. There is a limit, and it will keep you on the edge of you god damned seat. Actually, that’s the one thing this movie does really, really well: it’s 98% adrenaline rush. The tension is taut, relentless, masterful. There’s only about 1m30s where you breathe comfortably, and that’s only because you know a bad thing is coming and you can just kind of be zen about it.
Sean didn’t really care for it. This might be a knock on Owen Wilson’s manhood (try not to picture me knocking on his semi-erect penis), but Sean just didn’t think this guy was up to the task. He also didn’t think the situation was believable in the first place – that a group of Americans would just be left to fend for themselves, and that IF they were, for some odd reason, that Owen Wilson of all people could keep anyone alive for more than maybe 5 minutes or so. And given some of the choices this guy makes, I have to agree. I was also annoyed by the kids. The truth is, as actors they were pretty impressive. But I find kids in these kinds of thrillers to just be god-awful. They’re always making noise when they shouldn’t, defying direct orders, coming out of hiding places, squawking, refusing to do what’s necessary, complaining about having to go potty, or that they’re hungry, or that their favourite doll got left behind. And if you’ve got a wife who’s kind of whiny too, it’s not long before I’m yelling at the screen: “Leave them behind! You can start a new family later! Second spouses are the best!” And once I start yelling that kind of shit at the screen, game over.
An interesting tidbit: Ruth at Flix Chatter wrote a really interesting piece on the Dowdle brothers, who happen to be the writers\director of this film. She always does a great job, but this interview really caught my eye and if you have any interest at all, I’m sure you’ll feel the same.
We saw this movie at the drive-in, and as always, it’s a double bill. Truth time: the title is a lie. The second movie was actually Self\less, and it was worst than the first. And not just because the hicks in the car beside us, windows rolled down so we could hear them puzzle out each scene incorrectly, spoiled the whole thing by not understanding it in the least but loudly offering their idiotic theories.
Self\less is about a wealthy business magnate played by Ben Kingsley, who is on his deathbed when he gets an anonymous tip: there may be a way out of this death thing. Turns out, if you are brilliant enough and have several hundreds of millions of dollars (let’s dwell on that for a bit: Several. HUNDREDS. Of millions. Of dollars.), you can pay this mad scientist to fake your death and transplant your “self” into a healthy young body grow in a lab. This scientist is just so selfless himself, apart from the payday, that he doesn’t want to deprive the world of the most elite idea makers. The catch? No one can know. You say goodbye to your whole life and live as this other person. So, in effect, the plot has already shot itself in the foot because when Ben Kingsley wakes up in Ryan Reynolds’ body, he can’t just walk back to the Kingsley empire and helm the ship. Kingsley is dead to the world, and Reynolds is a nobody who is frankly ready for retirement, except for getting a few quick pieces of hot ass (and who can blame him?) The other catch? (C’mon, there’s ALWAYS another catch!): a lifetime of pills. The pills keep Ryan Reynolds at bay. Because the scientist lied. This isn’t some body grown in lab, it’s a murdered man whose “self” keeps surfacing, with flashbacks of his life, wife, and daughter. Awkward!
This movie is interesting in theory but decides to spit on the philosophical implications and just go for cheap thrills and action instead.
Are you familiar with the website Funny or Die? It’s a comedy site developed by Adam McKay and Will Ferrell where people upload uproarious videos that get voted on – those not deemed funny are sentenced to death (or at least the site’s “crypt”). The first video I remember seeing was the Landlord skit featuring Farrell and a barb-tongued toddler, but since then tonnes of celebrities have contributed all kinds of crazy stuff. There are no rules in the interweb, and Funny or Die is where famous people let loose. Like, major looseness.
Funny or Die is such a machine now that it’s actually spawned its own comedy festival, dubbed the Oddball Festival, and it’s been running for 3 years now. I happened to catch it during its inaugural run 3 years ago in Chicago when it was co-headlined by Flight of the Conchords (!) and Dave Chappelle in his return to stand-up. The night before we saw him, he was in Hartford, where the audience literally drowned him out with heckling and shouts of “White power!”. Chappelle walked off and then treated us to quite an anti-Hartford diatribe, including his fervent wish that North Korea would bomb Hartford. It was an epic set.
This year the festival is being co-headlined by Aziz Ansari and Amy Schumer. There’s a million other brilliant comedians on the bill as well (including Jay Pharaoh, Michael Che, and fucking Nick Kroll!) and we’re lucky enough to see all of them. Amy Schumer is having quite a year (if you haven’t read our review of Trainwreck yet, I assure you, we were entertained) but Aziz is our man.
I first came across Aziz Ansari in yet another Judd Apatow movie: Funny People (although in a little dose of kismet, if I’d only been paying attention, he’d previously appeared in an episode of Flight of the Conchords). Adam Sandler plays a movie star who copes with his illness and impending death by returning to his stand-up roots. He enlists the help of Seth Rogan to write jokes and “assist” him. I like this movie for a lot of reasons. Like seeing Sandler do something with some emotional depth. I LOVED seeing baby Sandler doing his earliest bits (he and Apatow were actually college roommates, and guess who filmed heaps of footage! – baby Ben Stiller and Janeane Garofalo also appear, if you squint). I loved Jason Schwartzman as a sleazy sitcom star, and Jonah Hill as a competitive bitch, and Eric Bana popping up in this after the little ode to Eric Bana in Apatow’s Knocked Up was just the shit, and I really REALLY loved this explosive unknown stand-up act who steals scenes: Aziz Ansari. Well, technically, not Aziz. Aziz developed a character named Randy for the film, but found him to be so well-liked and compelling that he’d often slip into the Randy stuff during his own shows.
Aziz doesn’t do a lot of movies but you may know him as Tom on Parks and Recreation (or will no doubt come to know him through his upcoming Netflix series, Master of None). He did make small appearances in Get Him to the Greek, 30 Minutes or Less (funniest part of the movie, if you ask me), and This is the End, proving just how incestuous the Apatow crew is (and for good measure, he’s also appeared on The League, and The Kroll Show). It’s a small world and Aziz Ansari is getting closer and closer to owning it.
We’ve seen Aziz before and love love love his stand-up. In fact, we saw him serendipitously last month at the Just For Laughs Festival in Montreal (where we also saw Chappelle). That particular night we were actually there to see Alan Cumming, who was fabulous, but got wind of a surprise pop-up show by Ansari, who wasn’t scheduled to appear. Turns out, he was working on material for the Oddball show and wanted a test audience. It was extremely polished for a so-called dry run, and funny as hell, so we’re totally primed to see him again this weekend, and with so much other talent, there’s no way we can lose.
The last living mortal, age 118 years, is telling his story from a hospital bed in a future where everyone is now “semi-immortal.”
This man, Mr. Nobody, explains that before the big bang, there were 10 dimensions: 9 of them spatial and 1 temporal, and all were balled tightly together. When the big banged, 4 of these expanded: 3 of them spatial (we know them as length, width, and depth) and the fourth, temporal (time). The rest of the spatial dimensions remained bound up – but what if one of t hose six was actually temporal?
This movie explores the possibility of parallel universes existing for different choices that we make. Mr. Nemo Nobody (Jared Leto) remembers all of these universes as if he’s experienced them all. He remembers choosing to live with is mother AND choosing to live with his father. He remembers marrying and having a family with each of his childhood sweethearts. We see snippets from all of these lives as he recounts them as an old man to one very confused journalist.
The movie is experienced a little like a dream, non-linear sequences spliced together, recurring sounds and images, the visuals imaginative if not always convincing. The movie is big on the butterfly effect (something as small as a butterfly beating its wings can have a profound effect somewhere, anywhere down the line) and is too heavy-handed with his theme. It did raise lots of mind-melting questions, which I always love, because they allow me to annoy the shit out of my husband at bedtime, when he’s just about to drop off into la-la land and I’m wide-eyed and salivating.
If there are infinite possibilities, which one is “real”? Or can anything be real? Which actions will have universal consequences? How will your past decisions, even seemingly miniscule ones, shape your future?
To help us distinguish between Nemo’s various lives, the time periods are colour coded, and shot in different countries with different styles and musical cues to point the way. Which still doesn’t make it easy to contend with. The web is messy and tangled, and maybe that’s the point, but it still makes for difficult viewing. Each scene is a tiny cinematic event in and of itself, but sometimes it’s hard to imagine them as a whole. The narrative doesn’t always do its job holding things together, but Leto’s performance tries really hard to be up to the task, providing an emotional gooey centre to all of this philosophizing.
Director Jaco Van Dormael drops so many clues into his film that watching Mr. Nobody is like going on a treasure hunt. He may not always be sure of what he’s trying to say, but he’s ambitious nonetheless, and you’ve got to admire him for it.
I don’t know if the lineup at the Toronto International Film Festival is better this year than in previous years I’ve been but choosing my films and fitting them into my schedule is harder than ever. Maybe it’s because I prepaid for 12 tickets over a four-day period (my most ambitious itinerary yet), making the choices seem unlimited. Well, almost unlimited. Every time I choose a movie, I have to give up another one and I had forgotten how painful it can be to scratch something from my list.
Here’s what I’ve decided on. What do you think? Is anyone else going to TIFF? What’s made your list?
Friday, September 11
Demolition– Jean-Marc Vallée directs Jake Gyllenhaal and Naomi Watts in what sounds like an intense drama about a grieving investment banker who copes with the loss of his wife through what the TIFF website describes as “random acts of destruction”. Not sure what that means exactly (although the write-up goes on to say something about an office washroom stall) but both Gyllenhaal (Prisoners, Nightcrawler, and Southpaw) and Vallée (Dallas Buyers Club, Wild) have been killing it lately and I can’t wait to see what they can come up with together. My only regret is that I’ll be catching the last of three screenings at TIFF, making me worry that Jake may not bother to show up.
The Lobster– An enthusiastic reception from the Cannes jury convinced me to give this seemingly very strange movie a shot. Newly single Colin Farrell checks into a hotel where guests are given the task of finding a new partner within 45 days and the punishment of being turned into an animal and released into the wild if they fail. From Yorgos Lanthimos, a supposedly acclaimed Greek director that I’ve never heard of, I have no idea what I’m in store for here. I have a feeling that this bizarre-sounding film will either be my favourite that I see in Toronto this year or the most aggravating. Either way, I’m expecting to react strongly to it.
Sicario– Director Denis Villeneuve (Incendies, Prisoners) tackles the war on drugs in the latest collaboration between Quebec filmmakers and American movie stars. Emily Blunt, Josh Brolin, and Benicio Del Toro make up an inter-agency task force that take on a dangerous mexican drug cartel and, from the sounds of it, will have to make some tough decisions about how far they’re willing to go. I picked Sicario out of the bunch because of Villeneuve, a very intersting filmmaker with a great eye and a bit of a dark side. His films are usually tough to shake off and I’m hoping this one will be too. You can see the trailer here.
Saturday September 12
Eye in the Sky– I’m hoping Helen Mirren, Alan Rickman, and Breaking Bad‘s Aaron Paul don’t party too hard after Eye in the Sky’s premiere on Friday night because I’m hoping to see them all at 11:15 this morning. I love all three of them and the film’s plot- about an ends vs means dilemma concerning an innocent child in the line of fire of a drone targetting a terrorist. The synopsis on the TIFF website makes it sound like a mix of comedy of errors and topical thriller and this cast this concept sound promising, especially with the right script.
Ninth Floor– A Canadian documentary about the 1969 occupation of Sir George Williams University’s (now part of Concordia University in Montreal) by students protesting against the school’s systemic racism. I always try and catch at least one documentary when I visit the festival and I chose this one both because 1) I did my Undergrad at Concordia (they told us this story at orientation) and 2) the TIFF website sells this as not only an account of this one story but the larger story of how Canadian citizens and institutions hide their racism while boasting of their tolerance to the rest of the world. Check out the trailer here.
Hardcore– I try and see at least one Midnight Madness screening every year and I chose, partly through the process of elimination, this “non-stop, white-knuckle, crackerjack thrill ride” about a Russian super-soldier trying to save his wife from- get this- a “psychotic paramilitary psychic”. I love the rowdy mood of these midnight genre screening, a nice break from the more pretentious tone of some of the other screenings, but am not a horror fan. Because all the other Midnight films seem to be about Hell and demons and posession, I settled for this out-of-control action movie. Apparently it’s filmed almost entirely from the POV of the hero, which sounds intriguing. Hardcore even.
Sunday September 13
About Ray– Born female, Ray (Elle Fanning) has always felt he was born the wrong gender and finally feels ready to commit to the surgery. Only trouble is he needs the signed permission of both parents. Fanning, Naomi Watts, Susan Sarandon, and Tate Donovan star in this comedy-drama with an amazing trailer. Can’t wait for this one.
Closet Monster– Three years ago, I caught a TIFF screening of a fantastic Canadian film called Blackbird, which featured an impressive lead performance by a young actor named Connor jessup. Jessup returns to the festival this year with this surreal-sounding Canadian drama about an aspiring make-up artist in a small Newfoundland community where he feels suffocated and is haunted by increasingly vivid nightmares of coming out to his father.
The Missing Girl– A lonely middle-aged comic book store owner becomes obsessed with finding out what happened to his missing young employee when her disappearance triggers his adolescent memories of another missing girl. Not sure exactly what to expect here but the trailer has my attention.
Monday September 14
Remember– The great Christopher Plummer stars in what sounds to me like a Mementoish road trip thriller from Atom Egoyan (The sweet Hereafter). Plummer plays a nursing home resident whose memory is beginning to fail him. Before it’s too late, he must follow a step-by-step plan laid out for him by the mysterious Max (Martin Landau) to escape his nursing home and track down and kill the man who murdered his family 70 years ago. Check out the trailer. i can’t wait. Even if Plummer isn’t there to answer our questions, I’ll be happy just to see this.
Freeheld– I’m often skeptical about Based on a True Story movies if there’s even a chance that I’ll see even half of this cast on stage, I’m there. Ellen Page, Julianne Moore, Steve Carell, and Michael Shannon star in the story of a terminally ill police officer fighting for the right to pass on her pension benefits to her same-sex partnerIt runs the risk of being a little preachy but with this cast I’ll keep an open mind. Besides, it’s a story worth telling. Here’s the trailer.
Spotlight– With a trailer that looks just amazing, this based-on-fact drama about the Boston Globe’s investigation into the Catholic Church’s cover-up of sexual abuse at the hands of their priests stars Mark Ruffalo, Rachel McAdams, and Michael Keaton. It’s from the director of the amazing The Visitor and the not-so-amazing The Cobbler so it’s hard to tell how good it’s going to be but I’m daring to get my hopes up.
I discovered two things immediately prior to the North American premiere of Sicario, the latest from the always interesting Denis Villeneuve. One, I had been mispronouncing the film’s title this whole time (there’s a hard “c” apparently). And two, I was not even close to dressed properly. I shivered for forty-five minutes in line as it poured on me. TIFF- as well as being the unofficial start of awards season – may be the unofficial end of summer.
ASSHOLES WATCHING MOVIES 