This VIFF, the vast preponderance of films were projected digitally (only four out of 340 films at the fest were actually shown on film). Every film I saw looked and sounded great, insofar as there were no scratches, missing chunks, stutters, mis-projections, or glitches. It's hard to argue with perfection. That said, a new 35mm print of a film like Tarkovsky's Nostalghia is a cause for great excitement, and more than merited a talk with the Cinematheque's Jim Sinclair about film vs. digital, Tarkovsky, and other upcoming film fare.
The story of Rhymes for Young Ghouls is well-told, well-paced and nicely poised between moments of tension and tenderness. The frames are well-lit and well composed and the music -- a good portion of which is old-school Delta blues -- perfectly complements the rawness of the film's visual character.
I love film. Foreign and documentary, quirky and Indie; I even enjoy the occasional Hollywood Box Office buster or blunder. But my favorite films are the ones you don't see coming; the ones you have to pay attention to; the ones that force you outside of a black-and-white comfort zone and into the "grey area". Films like The Attack.
CG lulls us. Characters are too shallow? Put them in 3D! Conclusion is unsatisfying? How about 53 artists work on exploding a planet at the end of the movie? What do you mean the leads have no chemistry when they kiss? Reconstruct their lips. CG is the Pepto Bismol at the end, middle and beginning of a Hollywood meal. My theory? Computer Graphics are to movies as the synthesizer is to music.
It's no wonder that studios, videogame companies, and large brand-holders are beginning to realize that an investment in an intellectual property must have a return from multiple media platforms. Hollywood's most influential players have taken notice with directors like Peter Jackson and James Cameron embracing transmedia.
Fight Like Soldiers, Die Like Children humanizes the global struggle to end the use of children in armed conflict. Pushing aside the morass of international norms and NGO reports -- important and useful as they are -- Dallaire asks a simple yet harrowing question: how is it that we can go "apeshit" -- to use his word -- when our own children's rights are violated, but passively accept the reality of child soldiers throughout the world?
A few weeks ago, my newsfeed was filled with stories from this year's Sundance Film Festival: "Record Number of Female Directors!" However, what little information I could find about the films centering around women with sexual storylines led to utter disappointment -- did they all just happen to be really dark, or is the female perspective on sex an utter failure?
Cloud Atlas' trailers, TV ads and web banners not only feature heavy-hitters Tom Hanks and Halle Berry in the film, but showcase creepy images of non-Asian actors wearing "slanty eyes." If felt weirded out or was reminded of the times you may have heard someone yell, "Hey, chinky eyes!" from across the street -- you are not alone.
Canadian actress and emerging playwright, Sarena Parmar, has performed in film, television and on the stage. In this in-depth interview on Extraordinary Women TV with Shannon Skinner, Parmar discusses her rapid rise in her acting career, how her South Asian background has influenced her work, her interest in human rights and advocacy, and also her involvement with Plan Canada's "I Am A Girl" campaign.
I've been attending the Toronto International Film Festival in various permutations over the last decade. This year was especially interesting as it was my inaugural TIFF season on Twitter -- adding a virtual blizzard of information into the mix. My coverage this year was a pu-pu platter of events, lounges, pop-ups and charitable causes and with most of it being re-tweeted in real-time, I quickly learned that I could not "dance at every wedding."
Terrance Malick's To The Wonder has just played the Venice Film Festival and is headed our way for the Toronto International Film Festival. It's not that I want to influence people not to see To The Wonder. It's just that time is precious. I watched Malick's The Tree of Life, and that's 140 minutes I'll never get back.
Now, two days into the festival, I notice the rhythm caused by the restless bodies in endless line-ups, the stomach churn of too much wine and not enough food. I open the bay windows, not to sun and sea, but to an empty beach, and the sound of rain. But it doesn't matter, I have a meeting with Coffin Joe, and an interested distributor.