We Be TIFFing Again

Editor's Note: For the eighth consecutive year, Dawn and The Husband will be spending a few nights attending the Toronto International Film Festival, known to the locals as TIFF. While they can now proudly call themselves seasoned veterans of this madness, they have once again scaled back their viewing opportunities because the TIFF website is STILL a colossal shitshow, unworthy of spending hours attempting to navigate, and because Rosh Hashana will interfere with their viewing time. The roster of films is back up to pre-pandemic levels but is disappointingly sparse this year on digital viewing. The various guild strikes in the United States have played havoc with many of the larger films, as neither actors nor writers will be attending the festival unless they are directors or have waivers from their unions. Therefore, there will only be three films screened. TIFF still serves as a tremendous distraction from the world's ills and allows for some much-needed escapism during these tumultuous times. The next several posts will focus exclusively on TIFF and will offer very short bullet point reviews for the movies seen. You've all been warned.

I will admit I was less than enthusiastic about attending TIFF this year. Part of the energy of the festival is tied up in the attendance of the talented people who create the films. The question-and-answer sessions that follow the screenings give a quick peek into the creative process. Major studios are skipping Toronto this year because of the union strikes and few A-list actors will be attending. I am not a star-gazer, but I cannot deny that having George Clooney answer audience questions following the debut of his latest film, is a major plus for this TIFF attendee. I am about to say something political, so if you want to stop reading now, I will totally understand. We came very close to ditching our TIFF membership this year because of their corporate partnership with Therme Canada, the pirates who are attempting to build a massive greenhouse structure at Ontario Place. When TIFF pulled out of the deal, we decided to go ahead on a limited basis. As I mentioned above, the website for choosing films is the most tangled experience this side of Ticketmaster. We will be dealing with that mess after the festival. We chose three small films this year because of the crash and burn on the site and so that we would avoid as much confrontation with the party-goers as possible.

Our first film comes from director Michael Winterbottom. Shoshana tells the story of star-crossed lovers against the backdrop of the British Mandate in Palestine. Shoshana Borochov, daughter of esteemed Zionist intellectual Ber Borochov, works as an independent journalist in the very young city of Tel Aviv. The British, who control Palestine, have sent officers to the region to attempt to keep the peace between the Jews and Arabs as they both struggle to maintain footholds in the land. Students of Israeli history will know of the various Jewish groups that tried vastly different methods to further their cause. The Haganah, which acted as a political wing working toward statehood and of which Shoshana was a part, worked toward a diplomatic solution. Other Israeli groups, like the Irgun and the Stern Gang (Lehi) were more interested in a terror war. It is against this backdrop that Shoshana falls in love with a British officer named Tom Wilkin. While both of them are trying to accomplish the same goals, their affair and eventually marriage, are trying on both of them and their circles. 

It is always difficult to attempt to make a film about the Israeli/Arab conflict. Inevitably, people will find fault. So, it would be a mistake to judge this film by any political position that the director does or doesn't make. Winterbottom is simply using the period to tell the true story of these fascinating two people. He makes no judgements. Some viewers might find that frustrating, but I didn't. The history is there for the research on whatever side you wish to view it. Newcomer Irina Starshebaum steals the film with her performance of the headstrong and fiercely idealistic protagonist. She is simply luminous. The rest of the cast is a mixture of British and Israeli actors who fit the bills nicely. The director adeptly intersperses newsreel footage to give the impression of a between world wars feel. 

Shoshana succeeds as a Romeo/Juliet story against the images of a very difficult time. The problem is, that it doesn't go far enough in fleshing out Shoshana's story. She is a fascinating character and I would have liked to learn more about her. That said, Shoshana was a very enjoyable film and it puts the viewer into the period with great skill.

Shoshana is still searching for distribution so who knows when it will be seen by mass audiences given the upheaval in the industry. You might want to keep checking streaming services in the next few months.

Dawn and The Husband give Shoshana two yups, but they are right on the line.

A Hot Mess From France and Love and Loss From Britain

Editor's Note: For the fifth consecutive year, Dawn and The Husband will be spending a few nights attending the Toronto International Film Festival, known to the locals as TIFF. While they can now proudly call themselves seasoned veterans at this madness, CoVid-19 has altered how films will be screened this year. While TIFF is offering in-person and drive-in experiences all over the downtown core, neither one of them is yet ready to sit in a theatre with other potential Delta vectors, even though every patron is masked and vaxxed. The roster, while not nearly as robust as in previous years, still offers some wonderful choices so they have increased their number of films to view to six.  Because they are old and, as previously stated congregating in a movie theatre is anathema in this still raging pandemic time, all films will be screened from the comfort of their living room complete with popcorn, a few homemade treats, and lights appropriately dimmed. The only phone calls that will be answered during the viewing of these world premieres are from Molly or Talia because grandchildren rule. TIFF still serves as a tremendous distraction from the world's ills and allows for some much-needed escapism during these tumultuous times. The next several posts will focus exclusively on TIFF and will offer very quick bullet point reviews for the movies seen. You've all been warned.

It was double feature day. We built in a hiatus for Yom Kippur and, as a result, had some trouble fitting in the movies we wanted to see. We have done doubleheaders before at TIFF. Usually, it means sprinting from one cinema to another and arriving breathless and sweaty for the second film. When one does TIFF digitally, a two-film day merely requires a ten-minute break to pee and gather snacks. In all honesty, we would have been happier with one movie because the first one was a hot mess.

We have entered into the world cinema phase of our TIFF '21 experience. We always like to choose films from the foreign language repertoire for several reasons. Filmmaking is a worldwide art form. In our experience, films that are made outside of the North American (read: American) lens are usually fresher, more original, and with stories that we have never before seen. They are more often than not independent and outside of the studio system. American filmmakers will often snatch up the best of these and remake them in watered-down English language copies. For my money, it is always important to check in on the world cinema selections at TIFF. That said, our first foray this season into this genre was a bomb. France is the story of a narcissistic, fame-loving television news reporter/anchor who cannot seem to ever get enough adoration from her fawning fans. She puts her work over family, is egged on by her social media-obsessed assistant, and is an empty vessel for anything other than her own narratives. She stage directs her reports, re-positions her interview subjects to manipulate the stories, and is more of a celebrity than a journalist. How many times can the audience watch her take selfies with fans? It grows mouldy very quickly. There is a real opportunity here for director/writer Bruno Dumont to create a real satire on the problems of modern television journalism but unfortunately, he veers off into so many tangents and subplots that the movie loses its centre. New characters pop up without explanation and crappy things happen for no reason. Bond girl Léa Seydoux is dour and miserable as the leading lady and she changes her clothes so often, it felt more like I was watching a fashion show than a film. (I counted at least 12 different coats. Who in the world has 12 different coats?) The movie is a morose morass that left us wondering why we wasted over two hours watching it. If we didn't have to read the subtitles, we both would have been sound asleep. 

Dawn and The Husband give France two hot and deep NOPES.

We fared far better with our second film of the day. I generally love a good British period piece and Mothering Sunday checks off all of the boxes. Featuring wonderful performances by promising young actors Odessa Young and Josh O'Connor (The Crown), Mothering Sunday is a steamy adaptation of Graham Swift's novella set in inter-war Britain. The film follows Jane, a young maid in service, through three generations as she navigates life, love, and loss all while developing her inner artist. This film is one of the most sensual and frankly hottest movies I've seen in a long time and yet, every scene was directed with sensitivity and purpose by Eva Husson. She literally strips her characters naked and it gives their conversations and movements a tinge of ache and realism. But above all, Mothering Sunday is about loss and how we cope with grief. In one extraordinary scene, Jane's boss, played masterfully by Olivia Colman, is recalling her own heartache at the loss of her son during the war. She comments on Jane's upbringing in an orphanage and tells her to be grateful for it. "You are totally bereaved from birth. You have nothing to lose and never shall,” she tells Jane during this poignant exchange. Of course, that is a simplistic view of one woman's anguish and the film's future tragedies prove that grief is never definable. While we see Jane mature as both a woman and an artist, we never really see her art but we know that it is superb. Mothering Sunday isn't a perfect movie but it is a really good one and I loved that such accomplished actors like Colman, Colin Firth, and Glenda Jackson took small supporting roles simply to be a part of it. I urge you to see this film. It is well worth your time.

Dawn and The Husband give Mothering Sunday two very enthusiastic YUPS. We both loved it. 

**Our last film is this evening. The final review will be published tomorrow. Thanks, TIFF.**

The Good House? Eh, Not So Good.

Editor's Note: For the fifth consecutive year, Dawn and The Husband will be spending a few nights attending the Toronto International Film Festival, known to the locals as TIFF. While they can now proudly call themselves seasoned veterans at this madness, CoVid-19 has altered how films will be screened this year. While TIFF is offering in-person and drive-in experiences all over the downtown core, neither one of them is yet ready to sit in a theatre with other potential Delta vectors, even though every patron is masked and vaxxed. The roster, while not nearly as robust as in previous years, still offers some wonderful choices so they have increased their number of films to view to six.  Because they are old and, as previously stated congregating in a movie theatre is anathema in this still raging pandemic time, all films will be screened from the comfort of their living room complete with popcorn, a few homemade treats, and lights appropriately dimmed. The only phone calls that will be answered during the viewing of these world premieres are from Molly or Talia because grandchildren rule. TIFF still serves as a tremendous distraction from the world's ills and allows for some much-needed escapism during these tumultuous times. The next several posts will focus exclusively on TIFF and will offer very quick bullet point reviews for the movies seen. You've all been warned.

It isn't unusual for TIFF to collide with the Yamim Noraim. They both happen at the same time of year, so overlap is often an inevitability. When we looked at the calendar and the schedule of movies, we knew that Wednesday and Thursday were going to be problematic movie-viewing days. You know, Yom Kippur and all. But, we also really wanted to unwind after the big Jew day with a film. We specifically looked for something that wouldn't overly tax our intellect and that appeared from its description, an easy watch. We thought we found it in The Good House.

Based on the 2013 novel by Ann Leary, The Good House stars a wonderfully acerbic Sigourney Weaver as Hildy, a functioning alcoholic real estate agent in small-town New England, who is trying to keep her life from spiralling wildly out of control. Directors Maya Forbes and Wallace Wolodarsky use the cinematic breaking of the fourth wall to allow Hildy to narrate her own story to the audience. At times, her lack of self-awareness is cloying and frustrating. But in the hands of a skillful actor like Weaver, it actually works well. The town is populated with an assortment of very one-dimensional characters that seem to have little to do other than act as a foil to Hildy's poorer instincts. Much of the stellar supporting cast is wasted as they weave in and out of Hildy's life and I was missing a deeper dive into how these people might enrich Hildy's life and story. 

The one exception is the always phenomenal and screen-eating Kevin Kline who plays Hildy's longtime neighbour and obvious wannabe paramour. Kline is outstanding as always but the story is so wildly broken that he can't save the script from its inconsistencies. Kline and Weaver have obvious chemistry. In their third onscreen pairing, they keep the film from descending into total chaos. Good acting can often save a mediocre film and in this case, it certainly does.

I wanted to love The Good House. I simply didn't.  I loved the idea of seeing an older woman run through the entire gamut of life's turmoils play out in a movie. Weaver's Hildy is stressed, messed, and dressed. She longs for sex and company and comfort. Older women in movies are often one-dimensional mothers and grandmothers. Hildy is both of those but so much more. Unfortunately, the film falls flat and never seems to understand how to bring the story full circle. 

Dawn and The Husband give The Good House two disappointed NOPES.

At least we didn't have to tax our brains too much after a day of Zoom davening.

The Eyes Have It

Editor's Note: For the fifth consecutive year, Dawn and The Husband will be spending a few nights attending the Toronto International Film Festival, known to the locals as TIFF. While they can now proudly call themselves seasoned veterans at this madness, CoVid-19 has altered how films will be screened this year. While TIFF is offering in-person and drive-in experiences all over the downtown core, neither one of them is yet ready to sit in a theatre with other potential Delta vectors, even though every patron is masked and vaxxed. The roster, while not nearly as robust as in previous years, still offers some wonderful choices so they have increased their number of films to view to six.  Because they are old and, as previously stated congregating in a movie theatre is anathema in this still raging pandemic time, all films will be screened from the comfort of their living room complete with popcorn, a few homemade treats, and lights appropriately dimmed. The only phone calls that will be answered during the viewing of these world premieres are from Molly or Talia because grandchildren rule. TIFF still serves as a tremendous distraction from the world's ills and allows for some much-needed escapism during these tumultuous times. The next several posts will focus exclusively on TIFF and will offer very quick bullet point reviews for the movies seen. You've all been warned.

If you would have asked me before this year's edition of TIFF if I would have even considered watching a movie about former 80's icon and fallen evangelist, Tammy Faye Bakker, I would have sent you packing to the deepest ends of purgatory. As someone with enough mileage on her to have lived through that bizarre period in history, I thought that I knew more than enough about Tammy and her grifter husband Jim to last me two lifetimes. As founders of the Praise the Lord (PTL) network, these two swindlers preached the gospel of prosperity and greed all whilst bilking their gullible followers out of hundreds of millions of dollars. As the Reagan Revolution brought together fiscal conservatives and the Christian right, the Bakkers were gleefully lining their own pockets while helping to pioneer the over-the-top televangelist style of entertainment. While Jerry Falwell Sr., Pat Robertson, and Jimmy Swaggart were all railing against gays, liberals, and feminists, the Bakkers were building theme parks and Tammy Faye was at the centre of it all. With her weird outfits, bizarre make-up, and over-the-top perkiness Tammy Faye Bakker was the butt of thousands of jokes and late-night monologues. I honestly thought that I knew her story.

I was wrong.

In 2000, a sympathetic documentary was made about Tammy Faye that pushed past all of the camp and trashy nonsense and revealed her to be a true believer in the teachings of Jesus who fell for a charlatan. The documentary is credited as source material for the new film The Eyes of Tammy Faye starring an unrecognizable Jessica Chastain. It was Tammy who talked about helping the poor and building houses for children with disabilities and for women with abusive spouses. While the Falwells of the universe were relishing in the "gay plague" of AIDS and pushing women into the background, Tammy Faye was inviting AIDS patients onto PTL to talk about their disease to try and help educate her viewers. It was Tammy who innately understood her God and the quest to make the world a better place all while her husband was swindling the flock. Tammy Faye certainly wasn't blameless. She was a narcissistic publicity hound who had problems with addiction to prescription drugs, but she was also far more interested in the religious part of her ministry than was her hypocrite of a husband.

We see the entire film through Tammy's eyes and Ms. Chastain expertly keeps the film from crossing over into the freakish. I honestly wanted to punch Andrew Garfield's pompous Jim in the face more than once as he used his false piety to build an empire. Keeping the focus strictly from Tammy's perspective gave the movie a sense of enduring pathos and the viewer really feels every emotion that she does when the house of cards crumbles. Ms. Chastain is a revelation behind pounds of make-up and latex and she managed to do the impossible for me, which was to make Tammy Faye Bakker a sympathetic character. This performance is a guaranteed Oscar nomination.

While The Eyes of Tammy Faye does feel a bit like Oscar bait, the pathos and care of Jessica Chastain elevate the film to another level. 

Dawn and The Husband give The Eyes of Tammy Faye two YUPS.

**Note. We are taking a few days off for Yom Kippur. See you back here on Friday.

Save a Cowboy, Riding a Horse at TIFF

Editor's Note: For the fourth consecutive year, Dawn and The Husband will be spending a few nights attending the Toronto International Film Festival, known to the locals as TIFF. While they can now proudly call themselves seasoned veterans at this madness, CoVid-19 has altered how films will be screened this year. TIFF has also dramatically scaled back their roster and as such, they have selected a very modest number of films, (3)+1.  Because they are old and congregating in a movie theatre is anathema in this pandemic time, all films will be screened from the comfort of their living room complete with popcorn, a few homemade treats, and lights appropriately dimmed. The only phone call that will be answered during the viewing of these world premieres is from Molly because grandchildren rule. TIFF still serves as a tremendous distraction from the world's ills, the impending High Holidays, and an asshole would-be dictator whose names rhyme with Dump. The next several posts will focus exclusively on TIFF and will offer very quick bullet point reviews for the world premiere movies seen. 

We have been very happy to participate in TIFF this year. Knowing that the pandemic has laid waste to the entertainment industry and that audience participation in any way, shape, or form is a huge challenge, we were excited to do something that would lend our support to the creative arts. The fact that TIFF was offering a digital menu for the first time and that we could view many of the offerings from the safe comfort of our living room, was a blessing. Yes, there is no question that we are missing the collective experience of viewing a brand-spanking-new film with like-minded people. We are bereft of the excitement that goes with in-person questions and answers from the directors and actors and worst of all, we are really saddened by the lack of buzz and excitement that exists up and down King Street during the festival. TIFF is a huge money-maker for the city and it is our neighbourhood's summer festival. There is a melancholy this year that just cannot be understood unless you have experienced it. 

It is why I cannot understand why the powers that be at TIFF have made the digital theatre so onerous. You would think that this year, of all years, they would want to introduce their product to new festival-goers. Grab them now and get them again next year. Rather, they have messed people around so much that it lends credence to the argument that the festival has become far too elitist. They have limited digital tickets and actually sell-out many films which totally baffles me. You would think that they would want to try and recoup some of the financial losses that they certainly are suffering through. Also, unlike in-person viewings, the digital theatre offerings only have a 24-hour window. If you miss it, you are out of luck. There isn't a possibility, at least as of yet, to view desired films outside of those designated windows. Again, with only fifty films that are being screened, it seems like killing off the financial genie. And, once again, the technology of screening these films is confusing and less than optimum. There are a whole lot of hoops to jump through to get the film off the computer link and onto a TV-sized screen. It really isn't easy but I live with a techie, thanks to the Divine Spirit.

In that vein, we decided to add one more movie to our TIFF lineup and purchased digital tickets for last evening's showing of Concrete Cowboy. To be perfectly honest, this film had me at Idris Elba. Aside from his extraordinary talent, he makes the backs of my knees sweat. I'm having a bit of the vapours right now as I'm recalling him in his tight cowboy jeans and a sleeveless t-shirt. Oh, my. The movie takes the typical "absent father trying to mentor a hostile teenage son" genre and puts it in front of the backdrop of a rarely seen subculture of Philadelphia; that of the urban black cowboys who keep and care for horses right in the middle of the city. Who knew? Certainly not me. The first viewing of Elba's Harp's apartment, with a white stallion occupying the living room, was simply jarring. Horses. In the poorest neighbourhoods of Philly. With urban stables. As the story advances, we learn that this lifestyle has existed in the community for over a hundred years and that the generational pull of the people who find peace there has historical and cultural significance. 15-year-old Caleb McLaughlin, all lanky arms and legs since his Netflix's Stranger Things days, plays troubled teen, Cole who is dumped on his father's doorstep after yet another mishap at school. Through a series of predictable tough-love incidents, Cole bonds with an angry horse at the Fletcher Street stables and learns difficult lessons from the streets of his new home. It is all very predictable but it has Idris Elba on a horse, so...yeah. Bringing in some of the real Fletcher Street cowboys into the cast was a smart move by director Ricky Staub. The depth of their feelings to their vanishing heritage is obvious on the screen.

I love hearing stories of people and places that have been existing outside of my bubble. Concrete Cowboy acts as the vessel for just such a unique story. I kind of wish that the father/son dynamic was less formulaic and that the lessons learned less obvious. 

Dawn and The Husband give Concrete Cowboy two middling YUPS. The YUPS are for the unique backdrop and for Idris Elba. The actual story is missing something.

TIFF-ing One Night In Miami

Editor's Note: For the fourth consecutive year, Dawn and The Husband will be spending a few nights attending the Toronto International Film Festival, known to the locals as TIFF. While they can now proudly call themselves seasoned veterans at this madness, CoVid-19 has altered how films will be screened this year. TIFF has also dramatically scaled back their roster and as such, they have selected a very modest number of films, (3).  Because they are old and congregating in a movie theatre is anathema in this pandemic time, all films will be screened from the comfort of their living room complete with popcorn, a few homemade treats, and lights appropriately dimmed. The only phone call that will be answered during the viewing of these world premieres is from Molly because grandchildren rule. TIFF still serves as a tremendous distraction from the world's ills, the impending High Holidays, and an asshole would-be dictator whose names rhyme with Dump. The next several posts will focus exclusively on TIFF and will offer very quick bullet point reviews for the world premiere movies seen. 

I am always in awe of the variety of voices I hear when attending TIFF. Sometimes, they come from audience members as they dissect a just-seen film. At times, I hear the words of the critics, whose job it is to lacerate art without a moment's hesitation. (I often wonder if we have been sitting inside the same theatre.) But it is the voices of the filmmakers themselves that intrigue me the most; the projects they choose, the stories they seem compelled to tell. And even though this year, I am unable to share in the communal experience of watching these fascinating new narratives unfold, I am still in awe of the bright and extraordinarily talented directors who have pushed through the confines of the pandemic to get their creations out into the public square. TIFF usually isn't the place where the next superhero flick is screened. It is a forum for the stories that fly under the radar of blockbuster-obsessed Hollywood movers and shakers. It is the space where the audience gets to see and comes to understand the blood, sweat, and tears that have gone into bringing art to life. 

I think that this struggle was exactly what we saw last night during our screening of One Night in Miami.... (Yes, the ellipses are part of the title. They inform the viewer that the struggle is ongoing.) This film is actor/director Regina King's feature debut, based on the stage play by Kemp Powers, who also wrote the screenplay for the movie. It is a fictionalized account of a meeting in 1964 of real-life friends Muhammad Ali, Malcolm X, Sam Cooke, and Jim Brown. King and Kemp bring together these strong, principled, and activist black men into one room during one of the most fraught periods of civil-rights history and have them discuss their responsibilities, not only to their respective areas of expertise but to their community as a whole. One Night in Miami... imagines a night in February 1964, when these four friends gather in a motel room to celebrate the stunning knockout of Sonny Liston by a raw but brash 22-year-old Cassius Clay. While most of the group is hoping to party, the banter, led by the sober Malcolm, eventually digs deep into the fraught questions surrounding all of them in their respective professions. That two of the group would be dead within a year by the violence that still swirls throughout the black community, is an overtone that is not lost at all. 

The film was shot before the murder of George Floyd this summer and feels uncomfortably timely given the incidents and protests that have followed. King refuses to allow comfort to her audience. She wants them to feel off-balance and claustrophobic so as not to be able to escape the very hard discussions. Unfortunately, there is something missing from the film. Maybe it is the feeling of expanse that a movie should have. The four men are confined to one room for most of it and King tries to have them wander the premises at times, but there is a stasis to their surroundings that chokes off some of the best dialogue. I can absolutely imagine this piece on a stage whereby the actors' powerful performances take over the spotlight. Every single one of these men is stellar in their respective roles. I was particularly enamoured with Hamilton alum Leslie Odoms Jr. as Sam Cooke. The man could sing the phonebook and I'd be with him.

We liked One Night in Miami... but left the home theatre wanting more from it. Regina King has more talent in her fingernail that most people could possibly hope for in three lifetimes and she asks the hard questions facing black celebrities today. I just wanted a few more answers.

Dawn and The Husband are both MEH on this film but understand that it is worth seeing.

Going Tiff-ing at Home This Year

 Editor's Note: For the fourth consecutive year, Dawn and The Husband will be spending a few nights attending the Toronto International Film Festival, known to the locals as TIFF. While they can now proudly call themselves seasoned veterans at this madness, CoVid-19 has altered the way in which films will be screened this year. TIFF has also dramatically scaled back their roster and as such, they have selected a very modest number of films, (3).  Because they are old and congregating in a movie theatre is anathema in this pandemic time, all films will be screened from the comfort of their living room complete with popcorn, a few homemade treats, and lights appropriately dimmed. The only phone call that will be answered during the viewing of these world premieres is from Molly because grandchildren rule. TIFF still serves as a tremendous distraction from the world's ills, the impending High Holidays, and an asshole would-be dictator whose names rhyme with Dump. The next several posts will focus exclusively on TIFF and will offer very quick bullet point reviews for the world premiere movies seen. 

I really missed summer in Toronto this year. What is usually a time filled with neighbourhood festivals, street food fiestas, live music performances, and abundant theatre choices, my city was devoid of all character with only a handful of patios open and most people taking solace with picnics in the parks or friend's backyards. The buzz that accompanies the downtown core was absent this year and there was a palpable sadness as we walked along the main streets in our area and counted the legion of For Lease signs. There were heatwaves but little sizzle as my city seemed paralyzed by the ongoing effects of this miserable pandemic. So, when TIFF announced that they would find a way to operate a scaled-back version of the festival, we knew that we would find a way to participate, even if it meant refraining from in-person theatre screenings. Honestly, the idea of sitting in a Cineplex, even with appropriate distancing and masking, gives me the dry heaves. TIFF is showing some films in traditional settings but they are also offering drive-in options and in-home digital broadcasts, perfect for the cautiously lazy movie lover. The Husband was a bit concerned with the techy side of this idea. TIFF has never been known for excellence in its web purchasing or online fare. What if the hardware and software weren't compatible with our limited home theatre? After checking out the necessary requirements, we decided to take a chance with the purchases and scheduled ourselves accordingly. 

Our first film this year comes from a talented young director born and raised here in Toronto, Emma Seligman. Shiva Baby began life as an 8-minute short that was Ms. Seligman's thesis from NYU's renowned film school. The 2020 expanded version focuses on twenty-something Danielle, a confused and seemingly rudderless student, who comes face to face with every bad decision she has ever made during a short shiva visit she makes with her family. It is a caustically funny film and often cringe-worthy in that way that makes your teeth ache but you can't stop watching. Seligman expertly moves between the family relationships that shape and torment us and the series of anxiety-ridden chaos that Danielle has manufactured for herself. Seligman calls her film a comedy of discomfort. Polly Draper (thirtysomething) is excellent as Danielle's self-involved and aggravating Jewish mother. She might be in the awards mix this season if the movie gets a wide enough distribution. Rachel Sennott is a young actress to watch.

The Husband wondered if non-Jews would understand the claustrophobia and exhaustion that a shiva visit can often impose. I didn't feel that the cultural overtones were disqualifying for those who are not members of the Tribe because I think that any family gathering could adequately stand-in for the shiva. I mean, we never even meet the mourners in the film, rather it is all about the visiting family who can't seem to get out of each other's way. 

This TIFF experience is definitely different and not as planned, but that didn't take away from our enjoyment of a very good and self-assured debut from a vibrant young director. We are glad that we decided to support one of our favourite festivals in the city once again, even if we had to find a new way to do it.

Shiva Baby gets two enthusiastic YUPS from both Dawn and The Husband. 

That's a Wrap, TIFF '19

What a wonderful way to spend eleven days.

TIFF is over for another year and given the unending torrent of shit that is coming our way every single day, I am once again grateful to have had the distraction of the art of filmmaking.

Not every movie that we saw was great. Many were good, some mediocre, and some had stellar performances in otherwise lacklustre films. That said, each and every one was a labour of love for its director. I remain in awe of this form of storytelling and even though a movie might not live up to my expectations, the amount of energy, money, talent, and vision that is expended continues to amaze.

Such was the case with our final screening of TIFF, Steven Soderbergh's The Laundromat. Boasting an all-star cast including the incomparable Meryl Streep, the always chameleonic Gary Oldman, and the ever-charming Antonio Banderas, The Laundromat attempts to unravel and simplify the true to life story of wealth consolidation uncovered in the Panama Papers. Using an odd combination of satire, story vignettes, some fourth-wall-breaking narration, and the simplicity of animation, Soderbergh tries, somewhat in vain, to breakdown the exploitation of the world's financial systems that were used to enrich a few greedy individuals and that was ultimately uncovered through whistleblower testimony by newspapers around the globe. It is a maze of shell companies, insurance frauds, paper wealth that wasn't, and off-shore entities that is as confusing as it sounds and it is truly anger-inducing for anybody who finally has a "Come to Jesus" moment about these financial scams.

Unfortunately, the mess of the financial atrocities uncovered in the Panama Papers is a bit more than even the great Soderbergh can chew in one bite. While the acting is as stellar as one might imagine given the cast, the script is uneven and convoluted. Meryl Streep's enraged "widow on a mission" isn't nearly enough to sustain a storyline that goes off the rails with several subplots that do little to advance the chain of events. While there is a bit of sleight of hand at the end of the film when Soderbergh allows his version of the whistleblower to have his/her say through the voice of one of his characters, it really isn't enough to redeem the rest of the film.

The Laundromat is another Netflix film that will be on a streaming device near you very soon, so there is little downside to watching the movie but I would be hardpressed to give it a full-throated recommendation.

Dawn and The Husband's review of The Laundromat: The Husband would give it a marginal YUP. He definitely liked it more than I did. I would give it an unqualified MEH. Watch at your leisure but don't expect brilliance.

And...That's a wrap for TIFF '19. We screened seven films and while none were terrible, none were particularly memorable either. My favourite was most definitely A Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood while Renee Zellweger puts in an unbelievable performance in a very flawed Judy. The People's Choice Award this year went to Jojo Rabbit which will immediately climb to the top of our must-see list. 

Thanks for following. Until next year, TIFF.

We Need a Good Caper Flick at TIFF

Editor's Note: For the third consecutive year, Dawn and The Husband will be spending chunks of the next fortnight attending the Toronto International Film Festival, known to the locals as TIFF. While they can now proudly call themselves seasoned veterans at this madness, they have still selected a modest, albeit an increased number of films, (7) because they are old and lining up for hours is tough on the joints; have no interest in midnight madness viewings; and that number is honestly far more films than anybody really needs to view in less than ten days. TIFF still serves as a tremendous distraction from the world's ills, the impending High Holidays, and asshole would-be dictators whose names rhyme with Dump and Thug. (If you are British, you can reasonably now add the asshole who rhymes with Doris to this list.) The next several posts will focus exclusively on TIFF and will offer very quick bullet point reviews for the movies seen. 

I love a good caper movie.

Charade, Ocean's 11, The Italian Job, How to Steal a Million, The Thomas Crown Affair, The Hot Rock, The Sting, A Fish Called Wanda...this list is endless and while most are average films, they are good fun to watch.

I am less inclined to love a psychological thriller but given the right plot, intrigue, and direction, I might find myself immersed.

The Husband is a huge Alfred Hitchcock fan. He loves the masterful way that Hitch would weave a story together without ever really giving away the goods until the very end. Years ago, as a birthday gift, my brother gave The Husband tickets to see Psycho on the big screen with a Q and A that followed with Janet Leigh. Viewing Hitch's masterpiece in the manner in which it was intended, was one of the most terrifying evenings I have ever spent in a movie theatre. And...I had seen the film before and knew everything that was about to occur. That's how good Alfred Hitchcock was at manipulating our psyches during a film.

Few directors today are able to achieve that level of cognitive distortion. While we might accept Hitchcock as the master and understand that coming close to his status is probably unattainable for most filmmakers, it frustrates the hell out of me when I can drive a truck through plotholes and predict the outcomes of movies that are being billed as twisted thrillers.

Such was the experience today with our screening of The Burnt Orange Heresy. Director  Giuseppe Capotondi adapts the 1971 novel of the same name and updates the time, space, and location of the bête noir book. A formally esteemed art critic and his weekend fling are summoned to the Lake Como summer home of a wealthy art collector (a really terrific and surprising turn by Mick Jagger) whereby he is asked to perform a small task for his benefactor. On the grounds of the estate, our leading man and lady meet up with a hermit artist (Donald Sutherland) whose paintings seem to mysteriously keep disappearing from world view. There are the requisite banter and sexual tension and even a terrific back and forth on the value of art and its meaning but there is much that is far too obvious. The red herrings are everywhere in the story but the problem is that they aren't very well hidden.

While the acting is capable and the story has promise, this film frustrated the hell out of me because I wanted to scream at the screen whenever I noticed a flaw in the storytelling. It isn't that The Burnt Orange Heresy is a bad film, it just should have been so much better. As we walked home from the theatre, The Husband remarked that if we had seen it on Netflix or Amazon Prime, we probably would have enjoyed it more. Our expectations are often lower with home viewing and perhaps that is an inherent issue with how our viewing habits have been altered by streaming. I wouldn't tell people not to see this movie but I would probably wouldn't recommend it for a more expensive evening out either. Hitchcock, it ain't.

Dawn and The Husband's recommendation: Two Mehs.

Claes Bang and Director Giuseppe Capotondi

Powerful Women at TIFF: Harriet Tubman and Judy Garland

Editor's Note: For the third consecutive year, Dawn and The Husband will be spending chunks of the next fortnight attending the Toronto International Film Festival, known to the locals as TIFF. While they can now proudly call themselves seasoned veterans at this madness, they have still selected a modest, albeit an increased number of films, (7) because they are old and lining up for hours is tough on the joints; have no interest in midnight madness viewings; and that number is honestly far more films than anybody really needs to view in less than ten days. TIFF still serves as a tremendous distraction from the world's ills, the impending High Holidays, and asshole would-be dictators whose names rhyme with Dump and Thug. (If you are British, you can reasonably now add the asshole who rhymes with Doris to this list.) The next several posts will focus exclusively on TIFF and will offer very quick bullet point reviews for the movies seen. 

Two films for the price of one post today.

Women in Film has been a mantra around TIFF for the past couple of years. The organization has been actively pursuing and showing movies made by women filmmakers both at the festival itself and throughout the year at the TIFF Lightbox theatre. I have followed the program with some interest only to be massively disappointed when reviewers, press people, and award bestowers have, with acute regularity, ignored the dynamic work women in the industry have been creating. It isn't as though we planned to centre our TIFF going this year around dynamic women directors and artists but it certainly has turned out that way. The first four films that we screened were all directed by women and the two on which I will concentrate today feature incredibly powerful performances by the leading women. In fact, I suspect that both Harriet and Judy will long be remembered more for the work of Cynthia Erivo and Renee Zellweger rather than the artistry of the films themselves.

Harriet is an important film and one that I frankly cannot believe hasn't been made until now. When introducing the movie last evening for its world premiere, TIFF director Cameron Bailey stated that there have been more than thirty movies made about General George Custer and yet, this is the first major screen treatment about Harriet Tubman. It is a shonda that it has taken Hollywood so long to get around to recognizing the heroic, dauntless, and flat-out ballsiness of a true American hero. In the capable hands of director Kasi Lemmons, Harriet Tubman is returned to her rightful place of honour in the film history books. Cynthia Erivo (Widows, The Colour Purple: Broadway) is simply sublime in her star-turn as the runaway slave turned rescuer turned the leader of a rebellion. She embodies Harriet's tenacity, resourcefulness, faith, and toughness and imbues it all with tremendous grace. Director Lemmons makes a conscious choice to not show all the brutality that Harriet suffered during her slave years on the screen, but rather she has put together a film that is well-crafted and showcases the enormous talents of Ms. Erivo. (She even gets to show off her magnificent singing voice.) That said, the movie does fall flat at times and the transitions are often awkward. The supporting cast is fine, with a really nice turn by Janelle Monae as a business owner/friend, but it is the power of Cynthia Erivo that drives Harriet. There have been other movies about the American slave trade that have probably been more muscular and more difficult to digest in our modern context, (Twelve Years a Slave comes to mind) but that shouldn't negate what Lemmons and Erivo have attempted to do here. It is important that the people who worked to end the scrouge of slavery, like Harriet Tubman, are given their proper place in the annals of history.

I will admit to having mixed feelings about Judy. Let's just get the obvious facts out of the way right off the top. Renee Zellweger is simply spectacular as the late in life and totally fucked up icon. She inhabits her skin and it is, at times, really creepy. She is raw and weathered and vulnerable and a real mess. She is everything that Judy Garland was in those tragic six months before her death. Ms. Zellweger even manages to display some Judy-esque vocals that, while nowhere near the real thing, are passable for a drugged-out version of the brilliance. There is no question that Renee Zellweger will be at the top of everybody's awards' lists this winter.

But...

I am still trying to figure out why this movie needed to be made. As a huge Judy Garland fan, I was not in any way surprised by anything I saw on the screen. Judy Garland was a tragic woman with the voice of the century. She was used and abused by every single person with whom she ever came in contact with the exception of her children. She was set on a path of personal destruction by an overbearing mother and a closeted and unhappy father. She was misused and treated badly by the Hollywood studio system and when she could no longer function properly due to years of alcohol and drug use, she was cast aside by friends and family until she was broke and homeless. All of this is well documented and well understood. So...why did we have to see the final breakdown on film?

I was uncomfortable watching this film in a way that I was uncomfortable watching Mommy Dearest. I just don't understand why this side of her tragedy was necessary to display. Judy Garland was the greatest live performer of all time. Watching the unravelling made me feel like a voyeur. Zellweger shows the integrity in Judy's determination to perform and why she was so appealing and she successfully captures the volatility that was her personality but the movie is uneven and difficult.

So far, this year at TIFF has been the year of the woman for us.

Dawn and The Husband's give two happy Yups to Harriet and two marginal Yups to Judy. Both positive reviews based on the powerful performances of their lead women.

**A quick follow-up to my post about How to Build a Girl. I saw the incomparable Beanie Feldstein last season on Broadway in Hello, Dolly! when she played Minnie Fay. I completely forgot about it while writing that post. She was great then and great now. She will next be featured with her old friend Ben Platt in the theatrical version of Sondheim's Merrily We Roll Along.

TIFF-ing in a Neighbourhood In Order to Build a Girl

Editor's Note: For the third consecutive year, Dawn and The Husband will be spending chunks of the next fortnight attending the Toronto International Film Festival, known to the locals as TIFF. While they can now proudly call themselves seasoned veterans at this madness, they have still selected a modest, albeit an increased number of films, (7) because they are old and lining up for hours is tough on the joints; have no interest in midnight madness viewings; and that number is honestly far more films than anybody really needs to view in less than ten days. TIFF still serves as a tremendous distraction from the world's ills, the impending High Holidays, and asshole would-be dictators whose names rhyme with Dump and Thug. (If you are British, you can reasonably now add the asshole who rhymes with Doris to this list.) The next several posts will focus exclusively on TIFF and will offer very quick bullet point reviews for the movies seen. 

After a very busy weekend, we resumed our TIFF-ing on Sunday with two screenings. I'm not exactly certain what we were thinking when we decided that after serving Torah study breakfast, hosting a citizenship party at our home, and an unveiling on Sunday morning, that watching two movies in one day was a great scheduling choice but there we were struggling to keep our eyes open for A Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood and How to Build a Girl.

We needn't have worried. Both films are exceptional and rather than fall victim to exhaustion, instead, we were exhilarated.  

I will admit to having concerns about Beautiful Day when we purchased the tickets. I have been a Mr. Rogers fan for decades and was so very moved by the documentary last year entitled Won't You Be My Neighbour that I am still stinging from its exclusion in Oscar consideration. If you haven't seen this beautiful film about Fred, it is a must-watch. The doc details the most intimate details of Rogers' life and his lifework with children. It is truly stunning that anybody could have been as fundamental a human being as Fred Rogers was, his approach to his own life and how it affected the world at large, is an ethos we should all be striving for. As much as I love to watch Tom Hanks create a character, I was concerned that Beautiful Day would reduce Mr. Rogers to a caricature in a mediocre biopic. I needn't have worried. 

Under the lovely and tender hand of director Marielle Heller (Can You Ever Forgive Me, The Diary of a Teenage Girl) Fred Rogers becomes the vehicle for her vision of wanting to give the world more of what Fred Rogers was rather than who he was. Based on the real-life friendship of Rogers and writer Tom Junod, Beautiful Day is less a movie about Fred Rogers' life and much more about how the values that he lived by are so lacking in the world. Tom Hanks is exceptional in the role but it is Matthew Rhys (The Americans) who really carries the film. His tortured writer is central to the film and he really carries the heavy lifting. The article that the film is based on is available here and I would really recommend that you read it after you have seen the film. It will help with your wonder and we all know that Mr. Rogers really did appreciate the wonder. At the Q and A following the screening, Heller was asked if she was concerned that the documentary would hurt the reception for the film but she replied that she views the two movies as sister projects and that they should be seen as a complete compilation of Mr. Rogers. She said, "It can't be a bad thing to have more Mr. Rogers in the world." As Fred himself said, "If it is mentionable, it is manageable." 

A quick aside. The music is phenomenal in this film, both the melodies that were written by Fred Rogers and the choices for the soundtrack. It was truly a character in the film.

Our second screening of How to Build a Girl was less about the film itself and more about the absolute star-making turn by its lead Beanie Feldstein. (Lady Bird) The film really did remind me of a 21st-century version of Clueless. It is a smart, funny, sometimes pathetic, but often brutal portrait of teenage girl self-discovery. Feldstein is a revelation as Johanna and she eats up every single hectare of screen real estate. She is fearless and takes on the role with a verve rarely seen today in film. It was simply a joy to watch her and she absolutely blows Alfie Allen (Game of Thrones) and all of her other costars off the screen. Ms. Feldstein is a star, an unconventional one to be certain, but a real actor's actor. Her career trajectory is about to explode. Expect to see her everywhere in the next year. The movie is slightly predictable and falls apart a bit in the third act but it is really well done and it is very easy to overlook its flaws and tired tropes. 

Both A Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood and How to Build a Girl will be much buzzed during award season but it really doesn't matter at all. See them both. You will be happy you did. 

Dawn and The Husband give both films two enthusiastic YUPS!

**Note: People have asked why I haven't given more detail in these reviews. I hate when I read reviews that give away the movie. I loathe trailers that show you all the best bits. I hope that you will see the films as much as I did and go in with your eyes and your hearts open. Just because I may not like a movie, doesn't mean you won't. Film enjoyment is subjective. I'm giving you the essence, not the plots.

Director Marielle Heller and the writers of Beautiful Neighbourhood

Military Wives Sings

Editor's Note: For the third consecutive year, Dawn and The Husband will be spending chunks of the next fortnight attending the Toronto International Film Festival, known to the locals as TIFF. While they can now proudly call themselves seasoned veterans at this madness, they have still selected a modest, albeit an increased number of films, (7) because they are old and lining up for hours is tough on the joints; have no interest in midnight madness viewings; and that number is honestly far more films than anybody really needs to view in less than ten days. TIFF still serves as a tremendous distraction from the world's ills, the impending High Holidays, and asshole would-be dictators whose names rhyme with Dump and Thug. (If you are British, you can reasonably now add the asshole who rhymes with Doris to this list.) The next several posts will focus exclusively on TIFF and will offer very quick bullet point reviews for the movies seen. 

I have at least three hard and fast rules that must be followed when choosing a film. 

1. Never ever attend a slasher/horror/zombie film. I simply like sleeping at night and trust me when I say, this particular genre is lousy on the REM cycles. As well, women tend to fare poorly during these movies.

2. Always attend any film that involves music or a choir. Choir geeks understand the emotional attachment to singing with friends, so movies about choirs usually involve tight relationships, emotional weepiness, and bonding. The Pitch Perfect trilogy, Sister Act (1 and 2), Joyful Noise, it really doesn't matter how bad the flick is, I will love and revere each moment.

3. I will pay hard cash money for a seat at any film starring Cate Blanchett, Meryl Streep, Annette Bening, or Kristin Scott Thomas.

Today's TIFF installment followed all three of Dawn's Movie Rules. 

Military Wives is a lovely, winsome, often poignant and sometimes bitingly funny movie based on the real-life stories of the Military Wives choirs that have swept across the United Kingdom. It is a movie that has few surprises and the plot at times was predictable and could be a bit pedantic but I loved every single minute of it. Directed by Peter Cattaneo (The Full Monty) and starring the luminous and aforementioned Kristin Scott Thomas along with the very funny and entertaining Sharon Horgan (Catastrophe), Military Wives had me laughing, crying, singing, and reminiscing about how much camaraderie exists between people who sing together. The women left behind while their spouses have deployed to Afghanistan are desperate for some thread of normalcy to keep their emotional heads above water. The formation of their choir offers them a welcome distraction from the economic difficulties faced by military families as well as from the hardships of single parenthood. 

There are the requisite tears and a few awkwardly funny moments but it is the music and the fact that it isn't always flawless that had me glued to the screen. Singing doesn't need to be perfect. It simply needs to be. Sometimes a movie doesn't need to have an agenda nor does it need to be thought-provoking. It simply needs to entertain.

A final word about the magnificent Sharon Horgan. If you haven't taken the time to watch the Amazon Prime series Catastrophe you are missing out on one of the great comedic performances of the past several years. Military Wives could and should be her theatrical coming out party. She was in town and on stage answering questions after the screening. She is simply delightful and is The Husband's latest celebrity crush. 

Military Wives doesn't have a release date until March but it is getting two enthusiastic YUPS from both The Husband and me. 

Peter Cattaneo, Sharon Horgan, Jason Flemyng

Getting Ready To Get Our TIFF On Once Again

Editor's Note: For the third consecutive year, Dawn and The Husband will be spending chunks of the next fortnight attending the Toronto International Film Festival, known to the locals as TIFF. While they can now proudly call themselves seasoned veterans at this madness, they have still selected a modest, albeit an increased number of films, (7) because they are old and lining up for hours is tough on the joints; have no interest in midnight madness viewings; and that number is honestly far more films than anybody really needs to view in less than ten days. TIFF still serves as a tremendous distraction from the world's ills, the impending High Holidays, and asshole would-be dictators whose names rhyme with Dump and Thug. (If you are British, you can reasonably now add the asshole who rhymes with Doris to this list.) The next several posts will focus exclusively on TIFF and will offer very quick bullet point reviews for the movies seen. 

Welcome back to routine, Torontonians.

For many, that means the end of vacations, back to school, re-energization of work projects, and for those of us who are Members of the Tribe, the impending doom of Avinu Malkeinu. It is also TIFF week here in the Big Smoke and since The Husband and I have moved down into the nether regions of the city, the annual film festival has become a rite of seasonal passage for us. In our younger and more suburban days, TIFF was always something that we wanted to do but because of distance and fall commitments, couldn't adequately budget either the time or funds towards it. Now, many of the screenings are within walking distance or a quick streetcar ride away from home and since I no longer have to stress the Yamim Noraim, TIFF has become a regular part of our entertainment experience.

Yes, it is extremely elitist and not at all cheap.

Yes, it is a royal pain and strain on the King Street streetcar on which I have become wholly dependent. 

And...yes it makes any and all other social involvements nearly impossible for two consecutive weeks.

All that said...it is also...

Exciting as hell to be one of the first people on the planet to screen a new work of art.

Wonderful and amazing to sit in a movie theatre with like-minded patrons who wouldn't even consider using their phones, eat their lunches from noisy food containers, talk to their seatmates, or leave in the middle of the film to go and purchase Goobers or Raisinettes from the concession stand.

Cool as f*** to be able to say to your friends that you saw a question and answer panel with George Clooney. (This year...fingers crossed...Tom Hanks.)

I know that it is just a few flicks and a few pieces of celluloid. In the grand scheme of the universe, it means absolutely nothing. But for me, TIFF is a few lovely and distraction-laden days at the end of the summer (IT DOESN'T END FOR THREE MORE WEEKS!) doing something fun in my hometown.

Bring on the movies.

** Our first film screens on Friday afternoon. I will attempt to get the quick-hit reviews up shortly after each screening. 

All TIFFed Out.

Editor's Note:

Dawn and The Husband will be spending the next few days attending the Toronto International Film Festival, known to the locals as TIFF. No longer rookies, they still have selected a modest number of films (5) because Rosh Hashanah is putting a crimp into their movie-viewing schedule this year. TIFF still serves as a tremendous distraction from the world's ills, the impending High Holidays, and asshole would-be dictators whose names rhyme with Dump and Thug. The next several posts will focus on TIFF and offer very quick bullet point reviews for the movies seen. 

Our quintet of films suddenly turned into a sextet on Wednesday when The Husband, in his infinite and prescient wisdom, bought us tickets for one last cinematic experience. When the list of TIFF films came out, Green Book was in my top five but when we went to purchase our tickets, this film went mysteriously missing from the lineup. I was unhappy but figured that it must have been pulled or delayed. Nope. There was simply a glitch in the TIFF site and so we chose five other movies and left Green Book as an anticipatory late autumn night at the theatre. When the powers that be at TIFF added an extra showing, The Husband pounced on the tickets and so we spent this final Shabbat of TIFF in the screening room at The Princess of Wales Theatre. 

I love Viggo Mortensen in almost everything (you all simply must see Captain Fantastic) and Mahershala Ali is a truly incredible actor. His performance in Moonlight had me in tears. The premise of Green Book, once again based on a true story, seemed like an old-fashioned buddy/road trip premise. Mortensen's "wise-guy" bouncer from the Bronx is hired to drive Ali's sophisticated and brilliant pianist through a series of gigs in the 1960's Jim Crow south. The green book is a reference to an actual publication that was distributed to African-Americans who were travelling through segregated areas in order to inform them of the "suitable" hotels and restaurants. Who knew? 

The film is funny, a little sad, anger-inducing at times, and sometimes a wee bit predictable but I loved every single minute of it. The two leads (and they are both leads. I will be infuriated if come awards season the studio tries to shove Ali into the supporting category) have tremendous chemistry and turn what could have been a formulaic flick into something special. Director Peter Farrelly (of dumbass movie fame) handles the subject matter sensitively and with a smart comedic eye. He shares a screenwriting credit with the son of the actual guy played by Mortensen. 

Green Book is a crowd pleaser and I will not be shocked if it wins the People's Prize here at TIFF. It may not be high art but it was a helluva great afternoon at the movies. Dawn and The Husband's recommendation: Two enthusiastic YUPS!!!

A TIFF Double-Header

Editor's Note:

Dawn and The Husband will be spending the next few days attending the Toronto International Film Festival, known to the locals as TIFF. No longer rookies, they still have selected a modest number of films (5) because Rosh Hashanah is putting a crimp into their movie-viewing schedule this year. TIFF still serves as a tremendous distraction from the world's ills, the impending High Holidays, and asshole would-be dictators whose names rhyme with Dump and Thug. The next several posts will focus on TIFF and offer very quick bullet point reviews for the movies seen. 

It was double feature Friday for us today at TIFF. I am just young enough that I don't really remember double features at the movies. For me, a double feature consists of watching the retirees down in The Southern Home surreptitiously scoot from theatre to theatre at the multiplex in order to avoid coughing up the extra ticket fee. But due to our compressed schedule this year, the double-header was unavoidable.

Our first film of the day was The Front Runner. Directed by Jason Reitman and starring Hugh Jackman, it tells the story of former United States senator and presidential candidate Gary Hart and his dramatic fall from grace during the1988 election campaign. If one is old enough to recall the entire "scandal", the movie doesn't really offer a whole lot more meat to the story. If one is too young to recall the incident that drove Senator Hart from the race, the movie isn't much more than a chronological three-week timeline. To be very honest, the whole film isn't much of anything. While the acting is good and the theme of the press holding politicos accountable fairly timely, the movie doesn't really add much to the narrative of Gary Hart and Donna Rice. There are some nice moments when our 2018 sensibilities are massaged as we ponder what the women at the centre of these messy political scandals must go through, but the movie fails to answer any of the lingering questions that people might still have. I honestly couldn't come up with a single reason to rehash this mess of a campaign other than the fact that it looks tame by today's standards. Morality has certainly taken on a different bent in the age of Trump.

The Front Runner is an incredibly average movie that might be better received if one was viewing at home on TV or on Netflix. While the acting is first-rate, the rest is fairly middling. Dawn and The Husband's recommendation: Two shoulder shrugs.

Our second film today was far more enjoyable. The Old Man & The Gun is flat out charming and fun. Robert Redford has already announced that this will be his final acting role and the entire movie feels like an homage to his stellar career. Redford plays an old crook who lives his life on the run and charms his way through a series of bank robberies. The supporting cast of Sissy Spacek, Casey Affleck, Danny Glover, and Elisabeth Moss feel like they are only in this film because they wanted to be with Redford. He is brilliant and fun and still incredibly sexy at a youngish 82. He is an almost certainty to cop an Oscar nomination for his work here. (It is really incredible that he has never won an acting award.) There were moments in this film when we are treated to snippets of young Redford either through old photos or movie stills and it really does feel like we are honouring a prince of old Hollywood. It is a short film at just over ninety minutes but it doesn't need one extra minute.

The Old Man & The Gun is a good old-fashioned caper movie elevated to a higher plateau simply because of the magnificent work of Robert Redford. Dawn and The Husband's recommendation: Two enthusiastic Yups!

***Even though I said that we were scheduled for five films, we bought tickets for one more. Tomorrow is our final screening. Watch this space.

Today at TIFF-Judi is Joan

Editor's Note:

Dawn and The Husband will be spending the next few days attending the Toronto International Film Festival, known to the locals as TIFF. No longer rookies, they still have selected a modest number of films (5) because Rosh Hashanah is putting a crimp into their movie-viewing schedule this year. TIFF still serves as a tremendous distraction from the world's ills, the impending High Holidays, and asshole would-be dictators whose names rhyme with Dump and Thug. The next several posts will focus on TIFF and offer very quick bullet point reviews for the movies seen. 

Dawn's basic rules for optimum movie enjoyment. 

1. Cast one of Judi Dench, Maggie Smith, or Helen Mirren, or any combination of the aforementioned. 

2. Place the actress or actresses in a situation that requires zero special effects, with a primarily British cast in a primarily British location, and requires them to act the shit out of said situation.

3. Don't clutter the film with crazy sound effects or jerky camera movements and allow the dialogue to carry the action.

4. Stand back and enjoy.

Director Sir Trevor Nunn did all of the above to great success with his new film Red Joan which we were privileged enough to screen at its world premiere this evening at TIFF. Based on the true story of former KGB "Granny Spy" Melita Norwood, Red Joan tells the story of how a woman of great intellect and imagination could be so overlooked and patronized in both the eras in which her story is told. Dame Judi plays the soft-spoken retiree all too briefly but with typical grace and perfection. The idea that this woman could possibly be who they accuse her of is totally unbelievable to everyone associated with her, including her own son. But the film really takes off when Sophie Cookson takes on the daunting task of playing the young Judi and shows how easy it was for a brilliant woman to hide in plain sight simply because she was a woman.

It is true that Trevor Nunn has a far more illustrious resume on the stage than on screen (Google him to discover his incredible credits) but that didn't deter him at all from making a very enjoyable and unusually female-centric film. In the Q and A that followed the screening, he was at his loquacious best as he tried to firmly impart his ideas that this film was all about underestimating women simply because they were women. And while Dame Judi didn't make the trip to Toronto, he made it clear that she was the only actress he wanted for the role of Joan.

The critics will probably find fault in the film for being far too simplistic and perhaps a bit dreary but we simply loved it. The acting was first-rate and the story was terrific. Not every movie has to be a masterpiece to be enjoyable. The Husband said that of all of the films we chose, this was the one that he was most concerned about. He needn't have worried. Dawn and The Husband's recommendation for this film: Two big Yups.