So for those salivating for a Toronto reset, I suggest a more modest brand refresh -- one where an asterisk is added to our otherwise great city. Here we can note our city's mind-numbing congestion, condo lined waterfront, failed Olympic bids, overpriced housing and political mismanagement. All this without clouding the overwhelmingly positive attributes this city has to offer.
Written and directed by Wladyslaw Pasikowski, Aftermath (Poklosie) begins with the return to the Polish countryside of Franek Kalina (Ireneusz Czop), who moved to Chicago 20 years earlier just before Martial Law was established in 1981.
We are in the midst of a bumper crop of bio-docs: documentaries focused on single figures who have wound up on the wrong side of history and who seemingly want the chance to get their side of the story on the record.
Tracks is a one of a kind cinematic venture that only comes around every decade or so. Let's hope some of that TIFF good luck charm allows this striking independent feature to eventually be seen and loved around the world.
If we look hard enough and not so far, among us are some brilliant children that aspire for more. Children who are actively involved in making positive contributions to the image of them and their generation of upcoming leaders.
Joan Scheckel's Los Angeles based filmmaking labs are housed in the quickly developing artist hub amongst Perry Rubenstein Gallery and Regen Projects, leading the way for a new Hollywood Renaissance.
It's no secret by now how I feel about Eran Riklis' wonderful film Zaytoun (the title means "Olive" in Arabic). But perhaps the best way to talk about a film is not to write or say a single word.
Thousand of film lovers travel to Toronto every year to witness the latest crop of Oscar®-caliber films at the Toronto International Film Festival. In between screening compelling dramas attendees find time to eat at trendy restaurants, sightsee and reside in conveniently located hotels.
So, what did you see? What a crop of films. What a 10 days that was. Oh TIFF; how Toronto, how Canada, how the entertainment world loves you so. The ...
Everyone loves gifts, and companies especially like sharing their products with celebrities and other influencers, hoping to associate their brands with A-listers, and get some all-important media attention. So with every TIFF comes the inevitable swag room: The Gift Lounge. What was up for grabs this year?
Denis Villeneuve had two films at this year's Toronto Film Festival. The better one was called Enemy. The one that's getting the big studio release this week is called Prisoners.
Professor Greyson and Tarik Loubani, an emergency doctor from London, Ont., went to Egypt despite the unrest. They seemed not to know about the animosity between Egypt and Gaza, between the Egyptians and Hamas. Now, we Canadians will have to get him out of jail where he has been incarcerated since August 26.
This year the footprint black films and artists have left behind is resoundingly deeper, bigger and better than ever before. Especially when you consider that director Steven McQueen's 12 Years a Slave, a graphic and compelling allegory about slavery, has won the festival's prestigious People's Choice Award.
Hateship Loveship is a thematically inside out version of "Hateship Friendship Courtship Loveship Marriage"; Munro's story is about silence, whereas the movie is about finding a voice. Both are worthy stories, but Munro's asks more of the reader than Hateship Loveship does of the viewer.
The Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) is one of the most high profile film festivals in the world. International stars walk the red carpets, the world press turn its collective eye toward Toronto and, it's hoped, tourist revenues shoot through the roof. But does being a big deal at TIFF really translate into mainstream success? Or to put it another way: do festivalgoers who LOVE movies work the same way as people who simply like them?
Teleporting Chinese tourists. Masturbating astronauts. Death by duct tape. Semen-filled puppets. Possible time travel. That one guy from Corner Gas. I was at a loss for words, and kept looking around to see if someone, anyone, was as confused and enraged as I was, but they were speechless in the face of True Art. I call bullshit.