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.

TIFFing in Space

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. 

I admit, I just love this festival. I am still such a neophyte in so many ways and we still only have time this year for five films (I wish it were more) but there is something invigorating about seeing movies in the dark on the widescreen with an intelligent audience. There is no rustling of food containers, no cell phones ringing, almost no talking, (I'm excluding the rude industry assholes chatting amongst themselves) and few, if any, people leaving for reasons unknown. Even if the movie is a singular piece of shit, most of the crowd sits in their seats until the credits roll. Unless of course, you happen to attend a morning screening where the audience is filled to capacity with retired teachers (yup!) and most of them suffer from a middle-aged bladder. Such was our lot at this morning's screening of the new Damien Chazelle (La La Land, Whiplash) movie First Man.

Technically a biopic about cosmic explorer Neil Armstrong and his journey to the moon, First Man is really more of a character study and interpersonal coming of age about the first human to set foot on a different celestial body. It is actually quite amazing and a feat of real talent that Chazelle is able to create a sense of drama and wonder about a story every schoolchild knows the ending to. Unlike its many space story predecessors, First Man reminds of the inherent dangers of space travel and the fear and trauma that so many at NASA faced then and still do today. We who have lived in a time when space travel has always existed and become commonplace, tend to forget that these men, and by extension their families, were true explorers. The scene when Armstrong is actually setting his foot down on the lunar surface is so tortured and drawn out so as to remind all that nobody knew what to expect up there. There are several prolonged scenes inside aircraft, capsules, and lunar modules that were filmed with handheld cameras at eye level and jerk viciously enough to cause this theatre patron massive bouts of motion sickness. Listening to the creak of the ancient metal capsules or seeing the "balsa wood toys that these men played with" drives the dangers faced by Armstrong and his colleagues directly home to the audience. The film is a master-class in sound editing, film editing, and music scoring and all of that is directly attributable to its director.

The cast is pretty fantastic as well. Ryan Gosling impeccably captures Armstrong's well-earned sense of tortured focus and Claire Foy is definite Oscar bait as his suffering wife, Janet. Their relationship, which withstood much, was one of mutual respect but also with a prescient understanding that their marriage wouldn't last the long haul post-NASA. Gosling gives real depth to this quiet and sometimes tortured man and seems intent on portraying him as a man who just did his job. Gosling plays Armstrong with such an even keel that when his emotions do finally break through, it is such a relief for the audience. 

I was 6 1/2 when Apollo 11 landed on the moon. I have distinct memories of my parents waking my brother and me up so that we could witness world history in real time. I remember the parades and the Life magazine covers and my parents keeping the newspapers from those days. Rarely, does the world unite together for such a singular experience. I can't imagine what it must have been like for Neil Armstrong and his family before, during, or after that event but First Man certainly does try to put it into perspective. Dawn and The Husband's recommendation for this film: Two enthusiastic Yups!

The director and cast of First Man

Vox Not So Lux-TIFF '18

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. 

The Toronto International Film Festival has returned this year and it is the perfect sanctuary in which to escape from the horrendous news cycle. I will admit that this year, The Husband and I tried to choose carefully from the potpourri on celluloid so as to avoid any flick that involved terrorist acts, religious chasms, Vikings, or anything that might have Kevin Costner attached to it. We just don't have the stomach for any of that shit this year.

Our opening film, Vox Lux, is one of those movie-going experiences that has me really stumped. As I sit here writing this post, it is two full hours since we left the theatre and I am still not certain as to whether this film is a brilliant masterpiece or a hot mess. The Husband is definitely going with the latter but there is something about it that is still poking at my psyche. The draw for this piece was definitely the dual acting powerhouses of Natalie Portman and Jude Law (He and I share a birthday. One of the many reasons I love him.) reuniting onscreen to portray a Lady Gaga-style pop star and her manager. With songs written directly for the screen by Sia, the movie jumps wildly from horrific community tragedies to personal miseries to a weird redemption scene that, honestly didn't make a whole lot of sense. There is a feeling throughout that while there are a deep understanding and empathy for the darkness of the characters and where that originates, there is also an underlying emotion that the whole thing is slightly self-indulgent and a bit of a vanity project for director Brady Corbet.

The camera work is unique and jarring and the acting is superb. Sometimes, actors transcend a film and I think that both Portman and Law do so here. They are true pros and often rise above the subject matter. The real revelation, however, is young Raffey Cassidy in a dual role. She navigates the emotional drama with a poise that isn't seen in actors twice her age.

Vox Lux is an underbelly story to  A Star is Born which is also premiering here at TIFF. (We chose not to see the third incarnation of Star because...really...how many times?)The irony of Lady Gaga playing it as a straight rock star while Natalie Portman is pretty much playing Gaga or Sia isn't lost on anybody. The idea that the persona becomes the person is examined in great detail in Vox Lux and yet, this year, we have Gaga trying to reclaim her personhood in Star. It is a weird sidebar to the film.

Vox Lux isn't an easy film. It requires patience and determination. It is still in search of a distribution deal and will probably find it on the backs and reputations of Portman and Law. That said, it is really really weird and apart from some dynamic performances left us both cold. Dawn and The Husband's recommendation for this film: Two Nopes.

Natalie Portman and Jude Law at the premiere of Vox Lux

***Due to the upcoming Holy Days, our next film isn't until next week. Until then...Shabbat Shalom and Shana Tovah U'metukah to all who observe.

Stones in the Road (With Apologies to Mary Chapin Carpenter)

Last Shabbat morning, I had an opportunity to walk a familiar path at GUCI. It is a stroll I have taken hundreds if not thousands of times over the years. I shlepped my guitar along that well-worn gravel road that leads from the Chadar Ochel to the Beit T'fillah in order to prepare for services. But, what made this particular saunter unique is that it was the only time during the reunion weekend that I found myself completely alone.

It was a moment I used for some reflection. I wanted to take in the experience; to feel the stones in the road beneath my sandals, to smell the acrid August morning air. You see, when one reaches a certain point in life, the importance of such memories takes on a sense of deep and compelling urgency. I didn't want to forget anything about this place. This was the place of my youth. This was the place of my faith. This was the place of my deepest and oldest friendships. This was the place of decency. This was the place of true love.

As I trudged down that road, I could clearly recall the faces of hundreds, no...thousands, of campers and staff that had shared this sacred space with me in decades past. They were the pictures of tanned youth and sinewed strength. They had dreams and plans and hopes and ambitions. We were just coming into our own and the world would be stunned by our radiance. We rebounded from our disappointments far more gracefully and we hid our cynicism far more easily. We were idealistic and foolish in a way that only youth can forgive. Time was our ally and we had no thoughts of its fleeting.

I became acutely aware of the memories that each of the four-hundred of us has; those of us who made the pilgrimage back to this blessed, steamy cow-patch in weirdly but aptly Jewishly named, Zionsville. Each of us sharing those memories with others until the incomplete individual became the collective whole. A patchwork quilt of recollections woven together by laughter and prayer. It brought the holiness of this place into better focus for me.

As I came into the Beit T'fillah, I heard the din of conversations. People simply could not stop talking and sharing. I tuned my guitar and started to play the music of Shabbat morning with song leaders of my son's generation. We had only met the night before and had no idea if or how we might fit together but the sanctity of the space elevated our voices in perfect harmony. We all inherently understood how to do this because this is where we were tutored.

There is so much emotion wrapped up in a trip of forty-eight hours. It wasn't nearly long enough and yet it was perfection. I rediscovered a purity in my Judaism that had been sorely lacking lately. I heard The Divine Spirit whisper to me in the strings of a plucked banjo and I tasted Her kiss in the treacly Shabbos kugel. I sang until my lungs burned and I played until my fingers bled. I was more engaged in my faith during those two days than I have been in the past two years. This is the magic of Goldman Union Camp and it is a magic that every single one of the four hundred inherently understands. We are all just stones in the road of this place and for one weekend, we all came home.

Girls With Guitars

I learned to play guitar on my Dad's twenty-dollar, bargain purchase from Eaton's.

It was collecting dust in his closet and I thought I would give it a go. I really just wanted to play some of the old Peter, Paul, and Mary songs that he was so fond of so that we could sing together. I never thought of the possibilities or where that old six-string might take me.

When I was growing up, Jewish music was the sole purvey of men. Even in my Reform congregation, I had never seen a woman sing on the bimah with the exception of a choir solo or two on Yom Kippur. Men were the cantors. Young men were the song leaders.

And then one day, my parents gifted me with the first NFTY album, Songs NFTY Sings, and I heard her voice. Debbie Friedman z"l opened up the world to me. Here was a woman unapologetically singing, writing, and song leading in a way that moved people to think about Jewish music in a whole different way. Through that album, she told me that I could do it too.

When I first attended UCI (GUCI came later) in 1975 as a Gezah camper, I was enthralled by the music and the young men who were leading it. I heard Debbie's songs but I couldn't see Debbie in their faces and I couldn't hear her voice. I loved each and every one of them who became my guides and my teachers but I had to ask,

"Where are the women?" "Where are the girls?" "Can I do that, too?"

It was Ron who encouraged that simmering Jewish musician in me. He mentored me, pushed me, and set me up with a line of teachers whom I will carry with me forever. I will admit that he had some initial reservations about my small stature and whether or not I could be seen during a Shabbat song-session in the Chadar Ochel or if my voice could carry, but together we proved that girls with guitars could rock GUCI. In 1983 I became the first female head song leader in GUCI history and the pride and joy that I feel when I see young women today lead in the Chadar or the Beit T'fillah is overwhelming.

Music at GUCI is a defining core value. When we sing as a camp community we open ourselves up to the depths of our Jewishness. We find common ground in our spirituality, our language, and our love of the Divine Spirit. I never set out to be a trailblazer but watching and hearing all of those girls with guitars who lifted up their voices after me and found inclusion in the music, is something that I will always cherish.

Shiru L'Adonai Shir Chadash.  

A Letter

Dearest Molly,

I have been wanting to write something to you almost since the moment of your appearance in this world but well...life and its shackled looniness has simply gotten in my way. I hope that by the time you are old enough to understand this missive, much of my bitching and moaning about the stuff contained herein will have mercifully vanished out of our public consciousness and will no longer be problems for you and your contemporaries. I hope that one day, you and I will be able to sit together and read this drivel and laugh raucously over what was, what is, and what we hope will be.

A few ground rules for reading this piece. Yes...your grandmother uses foul language and does so liberally throughout this piece. She has since long before your father was even a kernel of a spark in her eye. Many people will tell you that cursing is a sign of an unimaginative mind and a lazy speaker. I sharply disagree. I am a believer that sometimes, only certain words can adequately express emotion. Don't let anybody ever distract you from the true meaning of a curse. While I am not of a mind that we should be dropping f-bombs at will in any and all settings, sometimes the reclaiming of language empowers us and gives colour and texture to our extreme feelings. Words always matter and I will not be censored because somebody else might be offended by my language. And anyway, I'm fairly certain that while I have been saddled with more than a few pejoratives by others in attempting to describe my nature, unimaginative and lazy of speech were never amongst them.

I also hope that while reading this you will understand the pain, anger, and anguish I am feeling at this particular moment. I hope and pray that you never, ever see this side of me but when there is pure evil in the world, I tend to get bilious and pissed off. 

You, my darling granddaughter, are my greatest hope for the future. In your beautiful hazel eyes, I see nothing but optimism and potential. Your gaze transfixes me and displays such trust and love. We can talk in cliches for hours about how it is all ahead of you and how you can be anything you want to be, and my God I hope all of that is true, but I think that being born at this crisis point in history means you will have to shoulder so much more and for that I am profoundly sorry.

Yours will be the first generation with both feet firmly planted in the information age. While your parents and grandparents are still desperately flailing and failing badly at navigating through the sludge and the shit, I have some measure of confidence that you and your friends will someday have it all figured out. It still galls me that the internet, which holds the keys to so much advancement and connection, is also the place where racism, misogyny, hate, ignorance, and intolerance festers. The weaponization of information to further the evil and self-serving agendas of demagogues, false prophets, greedy oligarchs, and tyrants is one of the greatest miseries ever unleashed on the citizens of this planet. Where once in bygone times, dictators and despots used armies of iron and machinery, today's martinets use bits, bytes, and pixels. Dear one. Never let yourself be manipulated by mindless propaganda. Always demand to see the truth and never accept the word of any leader from any side of the ideological spectrum who purposefully hides his or her plans from the disinfectant of sunlight. Always, always, always ask the tough questions and never, never, never accept the easy answers even if they suit your personal philosophies.

It is very easy for people to get caught up in their own lives and to forget that there are others in the world just trying to find a better place for themselves. Generational poverty and living in constant danger make desperate people even more desperate. You, my love, have been born into tremendous privilege. You live in a country that, while far from perfect, provides you with unparalleled advantages. But just because you were bequeathed a life that offers so many avenues, doesn't mean that others less fortunate than you shouldn't be able to aspire to what you have. Human suffering is an issue that has bedevilled humankind for millennia but we can be and should always be mindful of those assholes who look down on other human beings simply because of where they come from, the colour of their skin, who they happen to love, or the gods to whom they pray. Worse still, we need to muzzle and ostracize those colossal bastards who gleefully use their perches of power and authority to further their evil agendas of hate and division.

Beware of the narcissist and those seeking self-aggrandizement. Align yourself with those who use their skills and their fortunes to help others rise out of the depths. The best people in this world are often those who work in complete anonymity.

You have been born into a community with a rich and tremendous history. Being a Jew is something of which I have always been extraordinarily proud but I have never used it to justify my bad behaviour. We Jews have certainly had our share of misery and suffering but we should never use our perch of privilege to further advance the suffering of others. We are a people that have been bequeathed a strong social justice streak that has its roots in Tanach. (Sometimes called the Old Testament.) Always beware of people who quote Scripture in order to further their intentions of evil. When that happens, try a few of these verses on them.

“Thus says God: Do justice and righteousness, and deliver from the hand of the oppressor him who has been robbed. And do no wrong or violence to the resident alien, the orphan, and the widow, nor shed innocent blood in this place.” Jeremiah 22:3

“Open your mouth for the mute, for the rights of all who are destitute. Open your mouth, judge righteously, defend the rights of the poor and needy.” Proverbs 31:8-9

“Give justice to the weak and the orphan; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute.” Psalm 82:3

“Learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the orphan, plead the widow’s cause.” Isaiah 1:17

People who think that they are holier than you, generally aren't. I have no idea what you will someday think of religion, God, or even of being born Jewish, but I hope you know that people who spout their Judaism as a reason for their bigotry and hatred probably missed more than a few religious school classes. Every Shabbat morning, I read the following passage based on Mishnah Peah 1:1:

These are the Things that are limitless,of which a person enjoys the fruit of the world,while the principal remains in the world to come.They are: honouring one's father and mother,engaging in deeds of compassion,arriving early for study, morning and evening,dealing graciously with guests, visiting the sick,providing for the wedding couple,accompanying the dead for burial,being devoted in prayer, and making peace among among people,But the study of Torah encompasses them all.

It seems simple, and the Torah part may seem archaic to a modern girl like you, but sometimes our humanity is found in our ability to reduce caring and kindness to the lowest common denominator. Sometimes, showing up for others is all that matters. Never forget that we Jews were once the "other". 

You have been born into a time when women have options. I have no doubt that you will be raised to show your strength and to follow your passions but there are still a few out there who think that you are lesser simply because of your XX chromosomes. There are still some people who believe that you shouldn't have agency over your own body or that you owe them sex. Feminist is not an angry nor a foul word. It simply means that we women want to be treated as equals in all realms of society. Own the word and live by its ideals.

There is so much misery happening right now that I can't believe it is real. Knowing that there are children out there, some who are as young as you are, who have been separated from their parents for reasons of politics...well it has kept me up nights. I hear their screams in my semi-consciousness and I loathe the people who have put them there. I shriek FUCK YOU in shaking rage at the newspaper and at the TV on a regular basis. I ugly cry when I think of those parents who are desperate to find their children but may never be able to because of serious malpractice and indifference. I send prayers of thanks that my granddaughter knows the hugs and comfort of her parents when she cries from discomfort or is frightened. There is an entire cohort of children who will be forever scarred by this evil and dastardly sack of shit. Given the lessons of history that I thought we had learned, I never thought or believed that I would see a modern, western society do this to needy people in my lifetime, but here we are.

I resolve for your sake to never give up fighting the righteous fight. I resolve for your sake to call out the bastards' bullshit every single time I hear it or see it. I resolve for your sake to never shrink from calling out the enablers and the sycophants, even if they are friends and family. I resolve for your sake to be engaged in the fight and not on the sidelines when evil is invoked. I resolve for your sake to be on the right side of history.

You, Molly, deserve nothing less.

Love,

Bubby