Day 3: September 10

Much of the day was spent at the Paramount watching the six and a half (glorious) hours of the Pusher trilogy.

The morning began with tales of last night's party for the Tommy Chong doc (a film that has eluded me, but one I hope to view before the fest is up). I had one colleague who had the surreal pleasure of introducing Jeff Dowd to Tommy, sitting between them munching on assroted, uh, "baked" goods. So, to reemphasize, he introduced the progenitor of the most celebrated stoner lead character in contemporary film history with one half of the team who dominated the 70s weed film scene. In one word, awesome. Sadly, it seems TC hadn't seen Lebowski yet, but Jeff assured him that "he'd like it a lot."

If that weren't surreal enough, another colleague went to the same party, only to be told by a friend that Bono was just at the party. Now, this guy in question is a huuuge U2 fan, so the though that he ran into the lead singer is pretty damn cool. He supposed was just chilling at the bar with a couple body guards for an entourage, unaware that there was a party for Chong going on at the same time. Ah, the fest, you can have fun without even trying to.

I got to meet Mr. Paul David Hewson himself when he came out for the Neil Jordan flick. There was quite a crowd at the red carpet waiving vinyl covers, so I guess somebody had announced he was going to show up. A pat on the back wishing him a good stay in T.O., and he was inside. Liam Neeson showed up for the intro, so I can confirm that, yes, the guy's really tall. I had the pleasure of watching the film sitting directly behind Jordan, and it was amusing to watch him view his own movie with such obvious pleasure, laughing at all the jokes after what I can only assume was a recent editing process. Nice to see that the guy is secure enough to actually like his own work without being arrogant about it, something that seems a bit rare in the film world.

The Midnight crowd was somewhat subdued again - it's further evidence that the electricity of MM's at the Uptown continue to be missed. Despite the much appreciated new seats and fresh coat of paint at the venue, it still lacks the electricity, the vibe, nay, the funk that Uptown 1 had for MM screenings. Two years later and I'm still pining for the damn theatre...

    

A History of Violence
Directed by: David Cronenberg

Grade: A

The master is back, with this remarkably accessible tale of anger and revenge. Leave it to Cronenberg to show Viggo as a badass. The story's pretty simple, small town diner owner disposes of angry visitors in a stunningly effective way. This is no amnesia movie however, but a straight-ahead tale of a guy trying to lose his past only to have it catch up with him.

The film is shot with a stark minimalism, the camera almost documentary like in its composition. From the opening tracking shot to the way that violent sequences are shot, Cronenberg continues to display his mastery.

Particularly amusing (as discussed post film with a colleague) is the cut from a supine Viggo cradling his crotch to a full frontal shot of his wife. With Cronenberg's not-so-subtle dig at a ratings board that will let all the guns and pussy you can handle, with the verbotten dick dangling just out of frame, he continues to play with some of the issues of violence and sexuality that creep up in the majority of his works.

The film is no dry intellectual exercise, it's a fun movie that deserves mainstream success.

    

Pusher / With Blood On My Hands: Pusher 2 / Pusher 3
Directed by: Nicolas Winding Refn

Grade: A-/A/A

A kick-ass 6 hour run with the boys of the Danish underground. From Refn's first flick to his two organic sequels, I left the screening wanting even more, boggled by the thought of taking the sub characters even further. If I had my way, Refn would only make Pusher films the rest of his life, with flicks devoted to the sundry characters that populate the world he has created. From the baby in the second flick grown up to seek revenge, to the daughter of the third flick coming to terms with the criminal organization she'll no doubt inherit, or even that guy sitting in the back of the Chinese restaurant - all these could in the hands of Refn be crafted into remarkable films like these three. Not to be missed, absolutely a highlight of the fest and a privilege to see them consecutively on the big screen.

    

Breakfast on Pluto
Directed by: Neil Jordan

Grade: B

Another cross-dressing flick from Jordan, but this time with a wry sense of humour and whimsy, coupled with a fine soundtrack of UK bubblegum 70s tunes. The tale manages to work in political commentary about the "troubles" in the midst of a story of a mixed up kid looking for his long-lost mom. The revelations are hardly shattering, but there's enough of interest in the to keep it from feeling stale or overwrought.

    

Evil Aliens
Directed by: Jake West

Grade: C-

Bleh, aliens running around like zombies to boring affect. The only redeeming elements are the madcap Welsh bastards attacking the bad guys with chainsaws and the like, and a tour-de-force scene involving a Combine mowing down the E.T.s from hell. Fluff at best, but buckets and buckets of blood for those that care about such things.