TORONTO INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL
Diary 8: Sept. 14, 2000

Lordee!

OK, now I'm reallllly tired.

Today/Yesterday was pretty long. Woke up at 10am to go see a wrestling movie from Korea, and topped it off with a crowded stint at Bistro 990. Somewhere in between, I watched five other movies, caught the end of a press conference, ate 4 cookies for my one meal of the day (just kinda forgot to eat...), etc., etc.

BOBBY AND CUBA

Had yet another festival dilemma - do I, a) go to the new Robert Lepage film's final screening? or b) go to the Robert DeNiro press conference. I, of course, chose to go to the Lepage film.

I did manage to catch the last 10 minutes of "Bobby" on the dais, sitting beside Cuba Jr. and friends. Nice contrast in terms of loquacity between Msrs. Pacino and Deniro. In short, I'd rather have Robert in a film where he suddenly shaves his head into a Mowhawk, and Alfred in a film where he has to rant and rave and froth at the mouth.

Wow, these casting people are good!

SCHNABEL AND FRIENDS

Had two slightly abusive moments at the last two screenings. The director of Before Night Falls, Julian Schnabel (redolent in a mysterious bedsheet and vintage sport-jacket number), mistook my question concerning the involvement of big-name stars (Johnny Depp, Sean Penn) in small character roles to be an insult. I'm pretty sure he called me an asshole.

I missed the press conference, but apparently I'm not the only asshole. Ah, well, welcome to asshole central.

Secondly, kudos to the stressed-out, tired organizers and projectionists at the Uptown last night. Schnabel's thing went late (mine wasn't the -only- question), and then it looked like a real possibility that the projector in the big theatre would be kaput. Seems that Schnabel's final fuck-you was to have his print take out a chunk of the Dolby SR mechanism.

If (as Cronenberg's ridiculously good prélude suggests) the camera is poison, than clearly Schnable's own hostility infused itself onto an overly aggressive, blunt-instrument-blow strip of celluloid.

As all this was going on, I had my stuff accidentally moved by the kind cleaning staff from my seat in the theatre (this was to be my third consecutive screening.) I came back to a very grumpy gentleman who was yelling at the woman to my left that he stood in line for hours in the cold to see this film (not true on either count), and he was going to sit wherever the hell he wanted!!!

Not sure where he's from, most likely not Toronto. It was pretty ridiculous, even Colin the wondrous programmer tried to calm the gentleman down. He was just in a pissed mood. Nice kharma to bring to a film starting 45 minutes late about crazy Hong Kong body guards. Clearly, the equitable and magnanimous spirit that it the Midnight Madness crowd has not touched his soul.

To you sir, wherever you are this fine morning, I hope you have a good bowel movement and relax. After all, it's just a movie.



POSSIBLE WORLDS
Directed by: Robert Lepage

Robert Lepage is a genius.

From his staging of Peter Gabriel's Secret World tour, to his world renowned theatrical productions, he has achieved international recognition and a brilliant visual stylist. His Le Confessional traditionally sits on my top ten films of all time. His latter films, for me, simply haven't lived up entirely to his debut, both in terms of script and visual flare. Both Le Polygraphe and Nô were very good films, but they lacked for me something that Le Confessional brought to the screen

With Possible Worlds, Lepage creates a film that could have served as the calling card to the rest of the world who prefers English films. This work, his first in Canada's other official language, includes elements of time manipulation, dread, the subtle permutations of memory, and a dull quiet irony. In the end, though, the film does not live up to my (high) expectations.

Since long before Descartes, philosophers have been intrigued by what they call Dualism, and what the producers of the Matrix no doubt would refer to as "that whole mind/body bullshit." Lepage's film takes the classic, first-year university mindfuck, "imagine if all your imaginations were the result of electrical stimuli, and that you were in fact a brain in a vat."

I'm hopefully not giving away too much of the film, here. The conceit, at least for me, was obvious about ten minutes in. There are pretty clear indications that the floating and fluid movements in time are in fact dream states, and the film certainly wears its philosophical badge on its chest.

I personally was hoping for something a little less obvious, something more playful with the topic. The brain-in-vat shtick, with all its permutations, is laterally thousands of years old (probably even predates the "Boy meets girl, falls in love" dramatic representation). The film does nicely discuss the inability to think originally. The lead character bemoans, "I live my whole life where someone has thought what I'm about to think, or already has." This part philosophical examination and part admission by the writer that his script is derivative.

Still, the visual dexterity is impressive, and I might be in the small majority who actually wanted more philosophical insight and less chatting about philosophical matters at a reasonably superficial matter. Cronenberg, for example, manages to consistently create interesting philosophical works (eXistenZ, for example) while still making them witty.

In short, Lepage's film suffers from being dry - both in terms of character and subject matter. It remains a watchable and interesting work, yet I see the film more as what could have been rather than what it turned out to be. I will still, next fest, skip any press conference to watch another Lepage film.

Grade:B




FOUL KING
Directed by: Kim Jeewoon

I'll be the first to declare it: Foul King is the Raging Bull of Korean wrestling movies.

Well, OK, maybe not.

But if it actually WAS the the Raging Bull of Korean wrestling movies, would that be a good thing?

Instead, FK is a funny, silly movie about wrestling. A typical "little-guy-makes-good" movie, in the style of Rocky, there is nonetheless enough silliness and originality to make this a good movie.

The wimp-to-tough-guy story is peppered with the slapstick use of Asian Kung-Fu style gore, from forks in the forehead to heads knocked into metal poles. The characters are less cartoony than their American counterparts, and the lead is quite enjoyable to watch.

What sets this film apart, however, is the soundtrack. Unable to decipher the Korean credits, whoever cloned Tom Waits and taught him Korean should be given a Nobel prize.

Foul King is a fun romp.

Grade: B+



RISK
Directed by: Alan White

A straight ahead, uneventful movie. Boring in parts, the film tries to work as a slick Indie feature but seems like a tired Hollywood film.

Bryan Brown (known to most as the guy from FX) is an insurance adjuster who equates himself in terms of cleverness with Einstein. He's got a plan to fuck over the lawyers and make a little cash on the side.

Meanwhile, the lawyer that he's not simply metaphorically fucking begins to manipulate him and his protegé.

Car crashes and sex scenes don't add up too well - a generally innocuous film - not throwing-popcorn-at-the-screen bad, but forgettable nonetheless.

Grade: D+



The Captive
Directed by: Chantal Akerman

A French film full of tracking shots, dual-tone hallways, same-sex titillation, café-scene dialogue and emotional dysfunction. Not-so-surprisingly drawn from a Proust work, the film is interesting, but is far from captivating.
Grade: C-