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.

One Beautiful Second

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.

As TIFF '21 draws to a close, I am once again reminded of how much I love this art form. There is a lot of garbage that has found its way to celluloid over the years, but that hasn't diminished how wonderful the movies truly are. Superheroes and comic books notwithstanding, there are so many stories worth telling and viewing that I am very grateful for one of the world's best film festivals that brings them all together for a fortnight. And in my hometown...bonus.

It is in this heartfelt vein that TIFF '21 chose for its closing gala, director Zhang Yimou's love letter to cinema, One Second. This breathtaking and visual masterpiece was scheduled to be released at the Berlin festival in 2019 but it was pulled because of what was described as "technical issues." The film world is fairly certain that the Chinese government was none too happy with some of the portrayals of mid-1970's Maoist China and demanded cuts before the film could be screened. Two years later, we have the final product but I'm left wondering what ended up on the cutting room floor. All of that backroom drama was for naught because what remains is a visually stunning and heartwrenching depiction of a man who escapes a labour camp to see a film that has within it, a glimpse of his long-lost daughter. Along the way, we are treated to magnificent and striking desert landscapes and a cast of characters who tie themselves to his quest for their own personal reasons. There is a harshness to the setting to be sure but there is also a true adoration for the power that film has, both as entertainment and propaganda, and what can occur when movies are communally viewed. 

We absolutely loved this film and were so grateful to be among the first audiences in the world to view it. The first digital showing happened at the same time as the theatre screening. We saw seven movies this year at TIFF and this is the only one that I wish we had seen in person with other patrons. I missed the oohs, aahs, and knowing glances of fellow movie buffs.

Dawn and The Husband give One Second two huge YUPS. See this movie.

**And that's a wrap on TIFF '21. We hope that we can do it again next year in person.**

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.

It's Difficult to Be Human

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.

We found ourselves home on a dreary Sunday afternoon and decided to add a movie to our TIFF '21 repertoire. The beauty of this festival is that tickets remain on sale throughout the fortnight of screenings and single films can be scooped up on a whim. It is even easier with the digital additions, so yesterday we decided to watch one that I had previously wanted to purchase, The Humans.

Stephen Karam has taken his intimate and increasingly smothering 2014 Tony award-winning play and masterfully transformed it into something deliciously conceptual for the screen. It is a rare thing for a playwright to take on the role of screenwriter for film adaptations but it is even rarer still for a playwright to sit in the director's chair. Karam must have been a pure pain in the ass to the studios in his lobbying for the job. In the q and a after the screening, he talked about coming into the initial meetings armed with hundreds of photographs to outline and better conceptualize his vision. His foresight is a success as he transforms what was already a psychologically gut-punch of a family drama into something even more sinister and revelatory. His camera work that moves effortlessly from garbled cross-talking and narrow hallway shots to blackened closeups of the rotting walls of the stifling apartment, is a metaphor for the crumbling of the family we see before us. There is a sense of horror and dread that descends upon the audience as we can almost feel the pain that the characters are going through. A series of creaks, bangs, and blackouts coming from the ageing infrastructure only heightens our trepidation.

The cast is a stellar ensemble. Led by Tony winner Jane Houdyshell who reprises her award-winning role as the matriarch and the always undefinable Richard Jenkins as the anxiety-ridden father who is trying and failing miserably to hold his family together. The talent is unsurpassed. Beanie Feldstein is just a joy to watch practice her craft and a special shout-out has to be given to a wonderful Amy Schumer who absolutely shines in her first dramatic turn. Rounding out the cast are Steven Yeun and June Squibb. There are a lot of acting nominations in that sextet. A lesser group of actors could have made this piece feel stilted and junky but this group has obvious chemistry and it shows in the finished product. 

It takes a lot of guts to make a movie during a pandemic lockdown that is as claustrophobic as The Humans is and at times it is difficult to watch. There are definitely some slow parts and while I believe they are deliberate, this is not a movie for the casual movie-goer or the escapist. The Humans requires some deep thinking by the audience and that isn't always everybody's cup of Diet Coke. It is yet another film that required some deep marination after viewing and it took me some time to appreciate the majesty of the work. The Husband wasn't so sure and is still coming to terms with what he saw.

Dawn gives The Humans a YUP. The Husband isn't yet ready to decide but his ambivalence is more about the structure of the piece and not the acting or the subject matter. He is on the fence.

It's TIFF Time, Once Again

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.

One of the reasons that I love TIFF so much, is because of the opportunity to see a film in its pristine state. The critics haven't yet gotten a hold of it and haven't ruined my viewing experience with their opinions and spoilers. For the most part, the movies at TIFF haven't yet been "internetted". So it was with great excitement that we sat down last night to watch the latest offering from one of my all-time favourite directors, Jane Campion. The Power of the Dog seems at first glance, easy enough to understand. The story of two rancher brothers working the land in 1925 Montana is a story that we think we have seen many times before. But, there is a prickliness and uneasiness that attacks the viewer from the very beginning, like we know something is going to happen but we are never sure what or when it might occur. The sparseness with which Campion treats Thomas Savage's 1967 novel almost knocked me over and I was laid bare by the harshness of the continual toxic masculinity that would have surely been muted in the hands of a less skillful director. The raging undercurrent of sexual suppression seems like the perfect complement to Campion's earlier work in The Piano and the two movies almost seem like bookends.

The cast and the acting are stellar. Benedict Cumberbatch is haunting as the miserable and bullying Phil. His name will surely be mentioned come awards season. Jesse Plemons, Kirsten Dunst, and newcomer Kodi Smit McPhee are all stellar and play their roles sensitively and heroically. The chemistry between the grizzled and angry Phil and the sensitive, brainy McPhee is obvious from the beginning. They circle each other like boxers in a ring, waiting for the other to strike first. There were a few slow moments in this cerebral Western-noir but after stewing about it for almost 24-hours, I realize that the quiet moments were emotional setups for what was to come.

Jane Campion hasn't been in the director's chair for a feature film in almost a decade. (She did helm the tv miniseries Top of the Lake which I highly recommend.) The wait has been worth it as The Power of the Dog is a fine film that requires the audience to do some marinating after viewing. I wish that there had been a q and a session after the screening because I still have so many questions still unanswered. The Power of the Dog is a Netflix film and will be available to stream in December. I urge you to stay away from the critics and spoilers until then and decide for yourselves. The ending is worth the two hours.

Dawn and The Husband give The Power of the Dog two hearty YUPS. 

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.

See You Down the Road 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 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. 

There is a bleakness and profound sadness that can be seen in Fern's face in the opening moments of Nomadland. It is the visage of somebody who has seen pain and loss and understands them both to her core. But there is something else as well. There is a fulsome determination to move forward by a woman who has been left completely alone by circumstance and needs to find a way to survive. Her fierce need for independence is tempered by the community of nomads she meets on the road (most of them played in the film by actual members of the American nomadic fraternity) and the series of temp jobs she must take in order to keep her head above water. 

Frances McDormand's Fern is a woman who all at once grieves her previous life but also comes to embrace the road ahead. Her face, seemingly elastic as only the features of a person who is weathered by time and conditions can be, is like a roadmap into her deepest emotions. She smiles at her new friends, is touched by their acceptance of her, and shows real impatience when a fellow traveller takes a shine to her. She is on the lowest side of this sliding economic scale of nomads but it doesn't make her less than in the eyes of the community. In a question and answer section given after the premiere, McDormand is emphatic in her discussion of the real-life nomads.

"Each individual who goes on the road has to be self-reliant,” she said, “but they do gather for Rubber Tyre Rendezvous because they need community for knowledge. I guess you would call it a socialist situation, where it’s all for one and one for all. The choice of van they use for their mobile lives has a lot to do with the economic disparities in our country, but Chloe (director Zhao) is not trying to make a political statement. Instead, we are leading you to a community which is making very difficult decisions for themselves and she is telling their story.”

Nomadland is a visually stunning film with a score that perfectly captures the vistas from the road. It is a film that is almost poetic in how it captures this story of an average woman doing something that most of us would think to be extraordinary and yet, isn't. Chloe Zhao has created a masterpiece and Frances McDormand is absolutely one of the finest actors of her generation. 

We didn't go out of our way to choose films helmed by women directors this year at TIFF but rather, TIFF is going out of its way to feature more women behind the camera. It is to all of our benefits in hearing stories told with a different lens and a different arc. I chose Nomadland as one of our films this year because Frances McDormand is one of The Husband's favourite actors. It doesn't hurt that she is Coen Brothers-adjacent, but mostly it is that she is truly brilliant in her versatility and never hedges in her painful acting choices. To tell more about this magnificent film would be to spoil it for all of you who must see it when it is widely distributed in December.

Nomadland is at the highest level of two YUPS. We simply loved this movie.

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.

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. 

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.

The Origin Story of All Origin Stories

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. As rookie attendees, they realize there is a great deal to learn and a great deal to know. They have selected a modest number of films (5) as their initiation into TIFF with hopes that perhaps this learning experience will lead to a more comprehensive schedule in future years. TIFF is also serving as a tremendous distraction from the world's ills, the impending High Holidays, and hurricanes named for Jewish uncles and aunts. The next several posts will focus on TIFF and offer very quick bullet point reviews for the movies seen. Plan your Oscar ballots appropriately.

If you are interested in the first three posts in this series check here, here, and here.

Winding It Down at TIFF

• We are very aware that VISA is a major sponsor at TIFF, (their signs are all over King Street) but we had no idea that holding a VISA Infinite card could provide some very lovely perks for the film festival. As we once again stood in a queue waiting for our entrance into the world premiere of Dr. Marston and the Wonder Women, an orange-clad TIFF volunteer approached us. She asked everyone in line if they might be holding a VISA Infinite card. The Husband and I both looked at each other with the same WTF face but to his credit, he decided to dig out his wallet and check his VISA card. Who knew? Our TD Aeroplan VISA card is indeed marked "Infinite". We had absolutely no idea and still are unsure what this might mean in our everyday life, but for that moment we were winners. Our host volunteer explained to us that Infinite card holders were entitled to lounge access, free snacks, and a front row seat to the red carpet walk. So, the two of us followed her like dazed sheep into the lounge at the Princess of Wales Theatre where we were gifted with fresh popcorn, bottled water, chocolate truffles, and Luke Evans up close and personal. After almost a week of TIFFing, we still have so much to learn.
• We had wonderful seats for this film but were located right beside an exit door. Usually, that wouldn't present much of a problem, but this particular exit was where the security people were positioned. One of the little things we have noticed is how seriously they take potential video pirates. As each film starts, a security person stands in an unobtrusive spot and with a special infrared device seeks out those shitheels who might be surreptitiously recording the film. Last night they caught somebody and were racing in and out of our exit door throughout the movie. I really understand that they were just doing their jobs, but a little stealthiness would have been nice.
• Once again the industry people were the rudest movie-goers in the sold out crowd. Phones used by these bastards rang on three separate occasions. I think that there needs to be a TIFF code of conduct explicitly written for industry insiders.
• One of the things that I have enjoyed more than anything else about the film festival is that I know little more than a blurb about each movie we have attended. The lack of reviews, spoilers, and cinematic trailers is so refreshing for this movie goer. I love that each film is surprising and intricate in its development. I might suggest that anybody planning on seeing any of the movies premiering here at TIFF within the next few months take a similar path. Try and stay off the internet, avoid the reviews, and eschew the trailers if at all possible. It does make for a far more exciting ride. It is why I have been purposely vague in my quick hit movie "reviews" and descriptions. Too much knowledge spoils the fun.
• Wonder Woman is certainly having her moment in the sun. What a cinematic year this has been for the Amazonian heroine. Dr. Marston and the Wonder Women is the origin story to end all origin stories. Director Angela Robinson tells the tale of Professor William Marston, the creator of Diana Prince/Wonder Woman and the very unconventional life he led with two very unconventional women, both of whom served as templates for his comic book character. (I find it very interesting that both Wonder Woman-based films this year were directed by women. Maybe it's time for Hollywood executives to get the message that women directors have much to say and that their movies can draw audiences.) The film stars Luke Evans as the very unorthodox college psychology professor, with the always severely underappreciated Rebecca Hall playing his formidable wife. Aussie actress Bella Heathcote beautifully completes the familial triangle as Olive. The three actors have sizzling chemistry, but it is the performance of Rebecca Hall that stands apart from the others. She deftly commands the screen as she hopscotches through her fears and desires. Her performance is a tour de force and I will not be surprised to see her during awards season. It is simply one of the finest performances of the year. Unfortunately, due to the death of her father, she was unable to be at the screening last night to accept the accolades. The standing ovation that the crowd gave was in large measure for her. Dr. Marston and the Wonder Women is a delight. It demonstrates that sometimes the superheroes aren't only in the comic pages. Dawn and The Husband's recommendation for this film: Two enthusiastic YUPS. Seriously. Go see this movie. (And yes...we are 4/4)