LaBute, Hüller, Hawke, Turturro, Mangiu, Almodovar, Huppert - seven of dozens of reasons to attend this year's WIFF

This week's Windsor International Film Festival (WIFF) (Oct. 29 – Nov. 8) press conference was also the official kickoff to ticket sales. Another can't-wait-for event is on tap. There will be 232 films shown (one more than last year!), 47 shorts and more than 300 screenings, 181 from world festivals, 128 in pre-theatrical release and 51 per cent Canadian programming (in a festival that shows more francophone films than any other!) and of course slates of local films in a festival that pays true tribute to its community. But, quipped always ebullient ex director Vincent Georgie, “there’s no 51st state."

So here are a handful of the 50 films I’ve selected and the reasons why:

I’m always interested in what director Neil LaBute puts out and his Murderous quirky psychological thriller looks enticing. You can’t find a better actress today on the world stage (or should that be celluloid or digital) than Germany’s Sandra Hüller so I’m expecting a knockout performance in this gender-obscuring 18th century tale, Rose, by Markus Schleinzer. John Turturro is one of those actors I’d see in anything and so here in Noah Segan’s The Only Living Pickpocket in New York. Likewise Ethan Hawke, and with Russell Crowe in Padraic McKinley’s The Weight, you’re getting a double-whammy. How could I resist a documentary about 1960s Brit Invasion musical artist Peter Asher of Peter and Gordon fame in Peter Asher: Everywhere Man (Dayna Goldfine, Daniel Geller)? Maigret and The Dead Lover (Pascal Bonitzer) seems a smart French drawing-room thriller. Once Upon a Time in Harlem (William & David Greaves) looks back on NYC’s Black “Renaissance” artistic elite. Another doc, Captain Newfoundland (Mike Feehan, Jamie Miller) is about the Newfie businessman and eccentric Geoff Sterling, who one time ran a

radio station in Windsor. Another doc, Draw Me a Bridge (Jean-Daniel Lafond) is all about the symbolism of the Gordie Howe Intl Bridge to Windsor and Detroit – how can I resist? La Bola Negra (Javier Ambrossi, Javier Calvo) is the most talked about film this festival and won People’s Choice in Toronto. It’s also Spanish, a country that makes great films. Fjord, by interesting Romanian director Cristian Mungiu, takes aim at the hypocrisy of political correctness, a rare take in the film world. I’ve always been fascinated in the spousal novelist of contemporary US author Paul Auster, sadly now deceased, so can’t wait to see her in Sabine Lidl’s Siri Hustvedt – Dance Around the Self. Sender (Russell Goldman) seems like the perfect midnight offbeat surreal thriller. Of course, I will go see Spanish master Pedro Almodovar’s latest Bitter Christmas. And not least, my perennial French crush Isabelle Huppert in Asghar Farhadi’s Parallel Tales......Check out the full festival lineup at www.windsorfilmfestival.com

Helsinki film lovers and the death of a Montreal festival icon

A delight about my stay in Helsinki over the past week was that my hotel was located immediately across the street from perhaps that city’s only art house theatre Cinema Orion. The elegant theatre dates from 1928 and is run by a non-profit association. Between touring around the city and a one-day visit across the Baltic to Estonia I was able to get at least one screening in, Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma (Jane Schoenbrun) a, well, campy horror flic starring Gillian Anderson. Not really my cup of tea although it did have some funny moments and I’ve always had a crush on said Anderson, here with long flowing blond locks. Also on tap were Oasis: Don’t Look back in Anger (Dylan Southern and Will Lovelace) and Pedro Almodovar’s Autofiction. There was also a monthly series of classic Finnish films, with the first, Ariel (Aki Kaurismäki, 1988) drawing a throng lined up down the block. And no sooner did I leave the screening than someone tapped me on the shoulder. It was a fellow Canuck, who’d overheard me tell the usher how great the Windsor International Film Festival (WIFF) was. Brynna was from Gimli MB and living in Helsinki three years, loving the place and agreeing with my very positive comments about the city from its calm urban character (little traffic, well planned parks and pedestrian and bike paths) to the sophisticated respectful Finnish people. By the way, the Helsinki Intl. Film Festival is coming up Sept. 17 – 27. If you’re going…

Very sad news that the founder of Montreal’s one-time great festival, Festival des films du monde,  Serge Losique has died. I attended the very first fest in 1977 (then rivalling Toronto’s, which started a year earlier) and was there for virtually every year since, regardless of where I lived in Canada. His cinematic biography traces to when he attended the Sorbonne in Paris where in the early 1960s, he rubbed shoulders with some of the greats of the French Nouvelle Vague especially Jean-Luc Godard. Back in Canada he was a major educator of cinema. The festival became hugely popular in Montreal and always ran in the 10 days prior to Labour Day, an end of summer big exclamation point. But in its last decade it fell on hard times, with allegations of financial mismanagement and sponsors withdrawing. In the last year I attended it lost a major multiplex and small theatres scrambled to reschedule films. Critics unrelentingly decried Losique for being a virtual dictator and creating a chaotic festival that was “uncurated” with titles simply acquired wherever he could get them. Its last year was 2019. 

And finally, when in Finland I stumbled upon one of the country’s major commercial cineplexes FinnKino and – wow. Not only was the lobby massive and high-end it featured wall-length self-serve glass-enclosed cabinets of prepared popcorn and hundreds of types of candy. Nothing like this in Canada!

Sympathy for the Coyote

Coyote vs. Acme is a “live-action animated” movie (meaning it combines cartoons with regular people). It’s a great premise. Anyone who’s a devote of the Bugs Bunny set of cartoons – and who isn’t (okay, maybe Gen Z etc.) – will love the idea. Wile E. Coyote of course is always outwitted by the “beep beep” Road Runner. All Coyote wants is a decent roast after all. And he can never get it. But he’s tireless, tireless. And he has invented innumerable schemes and contraptions to catch his prey only to, literally, fall flat on his face, or experience any number of ignoble endings - crashes, explosions, anvils dropped on his head. But, hey, he’s a “toon” so impervious to death, a cartoon version of picking yourself up and dusting yourself off. The problem – and the point of this movie – is that Coyote relies on so many supposedly innovative products from the Acme Corp. And of course, they don’t work or, uh, literally backfire. So what to do? Well, sue the pants (flaming as they may be) off them. The movie is the first “live-action animated” picture featuring Bugs Bunny type characters since 1988’s Who Framed Roger Rabbit (Roger Zemeckis). And it’s more than a welcome genre, as few films as there are. In the picture, Wile E. teams up with a cartoon lawyer (he, uh, represents toons) Kevin Avery (Will Forte), a down and out real life lawyer whose office is in a strip mall in, yes, Albuquerque NM. Avery is scared sh-less to go up against the powerful Acme Corp. – literally the biggest corporation in the world (even the picture's maker Warner Bros. is a subsidiary!) -  and its uber bullying lawyer Buddy Crane (John Cena) but his staff and not least a frustrated goading Coyote (who doesn’t speak of course, only make faces and hold signs), push him on. I can’t criticize the mixture of cartoon and real-life actors - I always find this ingenious - but I did find the movie a little slow. And the theatre I was in (packed on a matinee Saturday with Cineplex offering $7 admission) got few laughs even from the kids. Still, I give the filmmakers E for effort. The “trial” that takes place between Coyote and Acme is also an analogy for big corps everywhere that make shoddy products, and makes one think of the 1970s era tobacco companies which conspired to push cancer-causing cigarettes on the populace. And Coyote, always depicted as a villain, is depicted somewhat sympathetically here, given his untiring efforts to capture Road Runner – more a frustrated inventor always rigging gadgets or at his blueprint table. As I say, a fun premise but a little tiring, unlike, uh, Coyote’s endless quest.

Jumping their bones on One Night Only

One Night Only (Will Gluck, Anyone But You) is a whimsical switch up on the Gen Z/Millennial dating scene. The premise is original. What if a puritanical government imposed sexual mandates on people who were not married? But gave them dispensation. For one night of the year they could have as much premarital sex as they wanted. Think New Year’s Eve for singletons. That’s the situation our two principal, characters, Allie (Monica Barbaro) and Owen (Callum Turner) find themselves in as the countdown to their night of libidinous liberation begins. Allie is a commercial singer, Owen runs a pizza shop. Both are trying to find love – or er, whatever – on this luminous night when those of a certain status throw on their party togs and roam the streets and clubs in search of, well, at least the next available bedmate. This is a singles scene writ large. And because people are so pent-up for sex (aka horny) all manner of them want to cut corners, exploit or otherwise spend the night with someone they might otherwise never would. Other than the movie's scenes of sexual euphoria with couples on the streets or subways frantically embracing one another to get to coitus before the night is through (there are countdown clocks everywhere) the movie is a basic romcom. Girl meets boys if not sooner than later. Or you have to kiss a lot of frogs….. The film has an obvious novel premise (or gimmick), good enough for a movie theme but gets a bit tiring. I mean how much running about and seeing hysterical people jump each other's bones can you take? Okay, it’s fine as it goes. There are no real messages except at one point Owen suggesting the “fascists” might be on to something by limiting sex and making people think about what the real meaning of relationships should be. And of course there’s the subtle stab at the present US administration (which as far as I know isn’t’ prudish), when one character blames “Obama.” Obama, asks Owen? “Well, “the pendulum has swung,” she says. 

Obsession: Fatal Attraction for Gen Z

Horror films really aren't my thing. But I do have a taste in the genre in something a little unconventional, twisted or with a psychological dimension. And the fact Obsession (Curry Barker) was gaining critical gravitas - and let's face it there was nothing else worth seeing at the Bijou - I checked it out.  It starts out well, with our hero Baron (Michel Johnston) expressing his unfulfilled romantic quest for co-worker Nikki (Inde Navarrette) to a pal at a diner. The friend says go for her. They nervously go out on a kind of date. And as he's dropping her off she wants to make one thing perfectly clear: she just wants to be friends. Which of course depresses Baron aka "Bear". But he had visited a magic store and bought a cheap One Wish Willow, a stupid kids game where you're supposedly guaranteed your wish if you break the stick in half. (I love the guy at the call centre.) Well...Bear breaks it and suddenly Nikki turns around and walks back to his car. She's miraculously, unexplainedly, now completely enthralled and seriously does wants a romantic relationship with our hero. So the damn kids thing does work! We've seen this plot or theme before. It most notably brought back memories of the 1987 classic Fatal Attraction (Adrian Lyne) with Michael Douglas and Glenn Close. Only Obsession is for the Gen Z crowd. The film kept my attention but it's basically one dimensional - a straight ahead horror flick with some good acting especially from Navarrette. There's some pretty horrific scenes, amid a few laughs, but most people will probably be able to handle them. 

As per this movie, I'd booked a seat online only to arrive and find I was right next to a couple of chatty guys. So I moved up a row to an empty seat. A couple of seats to my left were a couple, yakking away and looking at their cellphones. I turned my head - twice - and stared point blank at them for a few seconds. The woman turned and saw that I was staring. Perhaps it quieted them. Then another couple, a couple of seats to my right, started their banter. So I got up and moved, all the way down to a place I never sit - midway up and exact centre. Best of all it was probably the best view in the house -not too far and not too close from the screen. I'll choose this in future. There was blissfully no other person in the row and none immediately in the row above. There have been reports this summer of blockbuster films like The Odyssey, The Invite and even Obsession, drawing droves back to bricks and mortar cinemas. And I cheer it. The problem is that folks still like to chatter. Is it because they're so used to watching movies at home that they've transplanted their living rooms to the theatre, and to hell with other moviegoers? Or is it just general self-obsessed rudeness? Probably some of both. 

The Odyssey: save your money from this overly hyped film

I can usually tell if I'm going to like a movie in the first five minutes. I went into Christopher Nolan's The Odyssey with optimism held high. But immediately there was something jarringly wrong. The characters spoke English! Yes, I know this is a tried and true Hollywood tradition dating back decades to movies like The Ten Commandments, Ben Hur and Cleopatra. But for some reason it didn't seem right here in such an obvious 3000 year old Greek myth. And partly it was who was speaking. In this case such recognizably box office boffo stars as Matt Damon (who otherwise does an admirable job as hero Odysseus) and Charlize Theron, who as a nymph looks like she's on a fashion set and can't be taken seriously at all. Yet I kept trying to find things admirable or absorbing about the film, partly I guess because of the overwhelming positive hype this picture has gotten in its one short week since release. But it never gathered traction. First, this is a movie heavily loaded with dialogue. Action film fans - who I suspect make up most of the audience - would have been numbed by all the weighted and grave conversations, about which I'd bet they couldn't care a flying fig about. And that's if they were decipherable because most were rather garbled. I really was expecting more action but it came few and far between. There were only a few mythical battles with monsters - the cyclops Polyphemus, the six-headed Scylla and giant soldiers who shred Odysseus' men and boats. Yes, the assault on Troy by Odysseus' Greeks - including of course the Trojan Horse - is dramatic but as dramatic or less than I've seen in a hundred other storming-the-gates type films. And really all these scenes are rather bloodless, both physically and emotionally. And, in between, the interminable dialogues among various characters, which may have put several members of the audience to sleep (the girl in front of me kept scrolling). This is a long film (172 minutes) and about half way through I gave up, my mind settling into a state of numbness and sort of on autopilot as the rest of the story unfolded. The best things about this film? Some of the ships and their grizzled rowers at sea fighting the elements and yes the dramatic encounters with the mythical terrors. The military costumes were good. But the film is overly long - thanks to the dialogue, Chris! - and could have been chopped by at least an hour. And I thought how it could have been improved by a more capable director (did I say that?). Less, less dialogue and more ambient sounds, creating surreal scenes and real psychological drama as the characters navigate through astonishing challenges, as befits a mythic journey.

A film with too much sex on the brain

I thought The Invite (Olivia Wilde) might be an update on Mike Nichols’s 1966 Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf with Richard Burton & Elizabeth Taylor. Not really. Though the premise is two couples getting together for an evening’s gathering at one couple’s home. It’s a film based on the Spanish flick The People Upstairs (Cesc Gay) in turn based on his stage play. I generally liked it. Here you have two fashionable millennial couples meeting for the first time, though they had previously bumped into each other in their apartment building. The inviting couple – Wilde as Angela and Seth Rogen as Joe – are a quarrelling neurotic twosome, so disconnected one doesn’t know what the other explicitly told them that morning. The other – Hawk (Ed Norton) and Pina (Penélope Cruz) - seem more together and appear the dominant of the two. He’s a retired firefighter (dubious to Angela because of his fay ways) and she a sexologist with searing insights into the opposite couple’s behaviour. Hawk turns out to be a psychobabbling New Ager. Meanwhile Angela is the most insecure of the foursome, aiming to please with her charcuterie board and nervous tics. The damper is Joe, who’s not into it from the start. The film moves at a pleasingly quick pace and is abundant with close ups – even facial – of our characters, Wilde’s in particular with her excited eyes and scrunchy cheeks and goofy movements, reminiscent of Diane Keaton (to whom the film is dedicated). I enjoy seeing Rogen in anything and he’s perfect as the modern curmudgeon here. As the evening progresses there is some stripping down of defenses (like in Virginia Woolf) but we’re really on track for something else, which I don’t know if I was crazy about (reminding me a bit too much of the 1970s). One thing’s for sure: if this is similar to the Spanish flick, which I’d like to see (of course it's not on Netflix), the people who made these films have too much sex on the brain. I also found the ending - how to say - a bit schmaltzy. Besides the absorbing close-ups the film also featured a type of device I hadn’t seen in movies for some time, heavy violin chords to punctuate the storyline. That was brilliant. 

It was Tuesday (cheap night) at the movies and a light bulb had gone off in my head. Book online, damnit, and avoid the line-up at the theatre. Sure enough when I arrived the lobby was congestingly full of people. I simply wandered in and just showed my phone ticket code. Surprised more people aren't doing this…..Speaking of theatre-going, on the hottest day this year the cineplex offered welcoming AC and I had thrown on a long sleeved shirt for warmth. But when in Florida earlier this year I noticed moviegoers coming to the cinema with blankets. Well, it is Florida. It also reminded me of the old Mad magazine cartoon about people coming out of the theatre hating the movie but saying it saw was worth it because of the air conditioning!

The Windsor International Film Festival’s (WIFF) tickets go on sale Sept. 22. I can’t wait. This year, with a slightly later October festival start, I’ll be able attend the full 11 days of the magnificent little festival that grew into probably Canada’s best regional fest and is now rivalling many big cities’. 

In stunning Malta, it's a cinema fest by the sea

I wasn’t planning to attend the Mediterrane Film Festival. In fact I’d never heard of it before. Until that is I got an email from the British Film Institute’s (BFI) PR agency, doing publicity for it. And I’d recently had the idea of going to Malta. So why not kill two birds? It’s a week-long festival in the capital city Valletta and in its fourth year still small and growing with only 30 films. But it has garnered some major titles like The Christophers with Ian McKellen, Couture with Angelina Jolie, Gus Van Sant’s Dead Man’s Wire, Moss & Freud about model Kate Moss’s collaboration with artist Lucian Freud and Broken English about singing great Marianne Faithfull. The films were also mainly in the evening, which gave me lots of time

to sightsee around Malta and its two main islands. What disappointed me was the lack of attendance. There were screenings with less than 10 people  and I don’t think I saw one entire cinema filled, and the theatres (all at one complex) were not large. Hard to explain why. The city and environs were inundated with billboards and various city sites had special areas roped off for celebrity guests and awards. One Malta resident put it down to typically poor local planning - “it’s Malta!” – while another suggested “the Maltese” will take a while to get used to something new and different. In any case here are some capsule reviews. Australia’s Beast of War (Kiah Roache-Turner) was a strange mashup of an Oz version of Jaws and WWII survival. Some good acting about sinking ship survivors but strange that someone would want to make a movie so obviously like the original. Maryam Touzani’s Calle Malaga with perhaps Spain’s greatest living film actress Carmen Maura was a poignant statement on aging and place, set in a Spanish colony in the Moroccan city of Tangier. Leyla Bouzid’s In a Whisper, a family story, subtlety revealed the oppression that gays face in Tunisia. If The Last Viking (Anders Thomas Jensen) is an example of Danish black comedy I want less of it, please. The film somewhat amusingly exploited violence for violence sake to make – what? – a point. Lost on me. Ordinary Battles (Margo Roe & Brick) was two films about 1) a dedicated nurse’s professional on the job struggles and 2) interpersonal rivalries among a longtime group of friends on a wilderness trip. The acting was good in both. Larry Yang’s The Shadow’s Edge was one of those ultra-violent Chinese crime dramas – and the violence came hot and heavy and repeatedly over this more than two-hour flick - with more crashes, explosions, mass brawls using hundreds of stuntmen. Not exactly my cup of tea but you’ve got to admire the sheer energy of making a film like this. Gus Van Sant’s Dead Man’s Wire is based on the real life 1970s kidnapping of an Indiana mortgage company honcho, and reminiscent of the current arrest of Luigi Mangione in United Heathcare Brian Thompson’s murder. Finally, another film based on real events, Nicolangelo Gelormini’s Gioia, was a searing romantic tragedy..... Let's hope this festival truly grows.

History obviously repeats in this feminist Brit flick

History repeats itself in Virginia Woolf’s Night and Day. But that I mean that just this week, in Britain, there was a blatant case of alleged misogyny at the University of Cambridge. A male professor was accused of being ”wicked” and subjecting a female colleague to “psychological torture.” Not just that but Cambridge’s prestigious Institute of Astronomy  was described as having an altogether “bad history of misogyny.” Perfect! And just in time for the opening weekend of Virginia Woolf’s Night and Day (in certain markets). Directed by Tina Gharavi it’s based on the little known Woolf novel of the same name. 116 years doesn’t seem to make a whole lot of difference in the charges hurled again the institute, as our heroine Katharine Hilbery (Haley Bennett - The Magnificent Seven, Hillbilly Elegy), finds. The story takes place in 1910 where headstrong Hilbery, a brilliant amateur astronomer, eschews society’s norms by trying to pursue a singular career outside of a conventional and confining (for women) life. The sets and costumes are spot on in this historical remake. And US actress Hilbery is a more than convincing Edwardian Brit (she also played in Cyrano). Timothy Spall (Mr. Turner, The Last Bus), one of Britian’s premium actors, does a turn as a stuffy authoritarian father, and with his twisted peevish face (reminiscent of a Francis Bacon portrait) he’s perfect for the role. And three-quarters of the film is the sub-plot of Bennett’s efforts to elude his grasps. Lily Allen plays the suffragette Mary Datchet, a major influence on the still evolving Katharine. The other theme is Hilbery’s indifference towards marriage, blowing hot and cold and playfully stringing her slightly buffoonish paramour (Jack Whitehall) along. But there is something very cliché-ridden about the film. We’ve seen this all before – a struggling yet assertive young feminist wanting to break society’s bonds, something albeit a good deal harder to do more than 100 years ago. If you’re a rah-rah feminist you’ll probably cheer her on regardless. Otherwise, the best the film has to offer are the period settings, the cast (very good) and particularly the searing irascible Hilbery (actor Bennett) herself. 

A nine-hour flight: that will be three films, thank you

My Air Canada Zurich to Toronto flight Monday was going to be a grind, even after a one-and-a-half hour delay leaving Zurich because of some European Union aircraft monitoring program that day. The flight is 8.45 hours. I spent the first hour or so finishing downloaded newspapers from my previous hour-plus flight. Now it was twiddling my thumbs time. Okay, let’s have a look at AC’s entertainment offer. I am one of the few people who praises AC (Canucks notoriously bad mouth the airline). Besides the fact they still offer booze at meals - and in a plastic as opposed to paper cup! – their back-of-seat entertainment system is one of

the most voluminous I’ve seen. As I scrolled through offerings, Polly Findlay’s Midwinter Break came up. Released this year I’d  been wanting to see it. It’s the story about a couple from Glasgow, long married, trying to revitalize their relationship with a short trip to Amsterdam. It stars one of my fave Brit actresses Lesley Manville, and Irish actor Ciarán Hinds. They’re Baby Boomers who seem to have arrived together at the end of their tether. The winter scenes of Amsterdam’s streets are gorgeous, as is the artwork in the Rijksmuseum (don’t forget to see the Night Watch). But there is unsettling ennui as the couple stroll by the moonlit canals. Manville’s Stella is

going in an opposite direction to the taciturn Gerry (Hinds) – stereotypical husband alert! – and the trip dissolves. Or does it?.....Next up on my flight were two vintage French films. First was Luis Buñuel’s Belle de Jour (1967) with Catherine Deneuve. I’d seen this before. Deneuve as Séverine is a bored housewife who wants, shall we say, a walk on the wild side or to jump-start her libido. She applies as a prostitute to a high-class Paris brothel (Geneviève Page as Madame Anaïs is especially memorable in projecting an authoritative though tender charm). The film shows many intimate images (though no nudity) and I wondered what the passengers behind me may have thought with a very young and slim Deneuve (her wide eyes reminding me of Princess Beatrice’s), stripping down as she services her mainly bizarre clients…..The third film was a French Nouvelle Vague classic, Jean-Pierre Melville’s 1962 Le Doulos, starring the great Jean-Paul Belmondo and, like in the last film, a personal fave, Michel Piccoli. Le Doulos refers to a police informer. And a hat. And since this is 1962 and criminals looked like businessmen, which in a way they were, they all wore hats. This is an age-old crime flick of betrayal among gangsters, Belmondo’s Silien outsmarting his brothers and the cops among some nasty happenings. This Nouvelle Vague (New Wave) film has all the earmarks of a classic noir, "à la française", with double dealings underlying the cliché, No Honour Among Thieves. Just put your fedora down gently.

Pass the popcorn and ridicule this movie

Normally I would never watch romantic schlock like It Ends with Us (based on the Colleen Hoover book), the 2024 Netflix film directed by Justin Baldoni and starring him and Blake Lively. But given the massive controversy over the film and lawsuits back and forth between the two prime stars, Netflix's release of the film this weekend was a longing-for-popcorn moment. I sat back and watched and smirked the whole way through, constantly mouthing cutting remarks to both of the stars though I sided with Baldoni on this one. Lively filed a lawsuit against Baldoni and Baldoni countersued, then a settlement was reached over the past month. She accused him of sexual harassment, ironically given that is a theme of the film. It was the stuff of constant Hollywood headlines and even I, someone not much into celebrity gossip, couldn't stop reading about it. So regardless of any quality the film might have had technically it's overlaid with the feud surrounding it. It's kind of like watching Tommy Wiseau's The Room, often considered the worst movie ever made. Technically, Ends is well made if a bit romantically syrupy. It oozes cotemporary vibes with Lively striking out as as a small town girl (Lily Bloom - seriously) in Boston opening her own flower shop. On a summer rooftop evening she meets Ryle, whom she takes for a crypto bro (he looks it) but is a neurosurgeon. Love, uh, blooms. And there is loads of intimacy, leading one to see how one or another of the characters may have stepped over the line. In the film Lively struck me as more vulnerable (and younger) than I imagined and Baldoni extraordinary handsome and a take no guff kind of guy (hence counter lawsuit). But what annoyed me the most was how gooey hip contemporary the whole thing was, complete with Rob Simonsen and Duncan Blickenstaff's plaintive emotive score. More chardonnay please, please. 

The most famous jazz piano concert record that almost never came off

Köln 75, directed by Ido Fluk, is a documentary that doesn't seem like a documentary. It's about this legendary German music promoter, Vera Brandes, and her production of a Keith Jarrett concert in Cologne (Köln) Germany in 1975. Which just happened to result in the best selling live jazz piano concert recording of all time. Yes, it's an against all odds kind of story but this actually happened. Brandes was a hell-raising 18-year-old when she met famed Brit jazz saxophonist Ronnie Scott, who made romantic overtures in a local club. Nothing came of it but he saw her fearlessness and drive and hired her to book club dates. Learning literally on the job - and by the skin of her teeth - her recognition grew as Cologne became the centre of Germany's jazz scene. While the rest of the world was caught up in mid-1970s rock and roll (remember the Doobie Brothers?) and jazz was seen as old hat Köln and Vera were tuned to a different vibe. The film is creatively made, at turns with a third person narrator, but cutting sharply to a fictionalize style drama. The movie, of course, is about Brandes, and also her rebellion against her staid authoritarian parents, her father especially who despised what she was doing and made no effort to conceal his disdain. But Brandes's "bratty" personality underlined her goal of moving in the moment of the jazz world. When the famed pianist Keith Jarrett came to Germany she was chosen as his promoter. Jarrett, a prodigy and pianist with legendary Myles Davis but who struck out on his own, agreed to come to Köln. But tired and physically in pain and hearing the concert piano was poorly tuned he adamantly refused to play. That put Vera on the spot as she had paid upfront 10K Deutsche Marks and promised her mother (who lent her the money) she would quit music promotion if the concert failed. It didn't. But the excitement builds as Brandes and her friends work to a frenzy to see the concert - with a tuned if otherwise deficient piano - come off. Brandes is played by Mala Emde, Jarrett by John Magaro and Michael Chernus as jazz journalist Mick Watts (the last two of Orange is the New Black fame), who hitches a physically uncomfortable car ride across Europe with Jarrett and his producer Michael Eicher (Alexander Scheer), who'd go on to found ECM Records.   

Rediscovering the mania of Werner Herzog's films

It had been a long while since I watched anything from Werner Herzog. And I mean awhile, going back perhaps to the 1980s, where Herzog’s films were in their heyday. Herzog is one of a small handful of German filmmakers who redefined post-war German cinema in the 1970s and 80s. His films were ambitious, to say the least, often shot in remote locations with inexperienced locals in grand plots worthy of the films of David Lean or Cecile B. DeMille. When The Criterion Collection announced this month its slate of Herzog films was disappearing by the end of April, I got to it and started watching. And while I am sure I had seen at least two or three of these films before I can’t remember them. Maybe they were a figment of my imagination as per a character in one of Herzog's films. And with Herzog you get two for one. I mean the actors. In this case the extraordinary Klaus Kinski (top photo) and Bruno S (bottom photo)…..First up was 1972’s Aguirre, the Wrath of God. Many of Herzog’s films are set in South America. Here Aguirre played by the riveting Kinski, leads a group of Conquistadors and Indian slaves deep into the Amazon jungle in search of El Dorado (gold). The journey to say the least is perilous. Kinski as Aguirre is his maniacal self, a creature so wound you can’t take your eyes off him. Then there was Fitzcarraldo, another film set in South America where an ambitious white gringo, the namesake played by Kinski (his wife the esteemed Claudia Cardinale) is

consumed with conquering an area of the jungle for a vast rubber plantation. There are scenes in the movie that today would have been recreated by special effects, not so here. The sure audacity of this filmmaking is breathtaking. Then there is Woyzeck, where Kinski plays a personally diminished Polish soldier, fraught with mental pain. Then in Cobra Verde, Herzog take us on a voyage from South America to Africa during the slave trade where Kinski as the namesake is convinced he is the only white man on the continent as he seeks a bargain with African tribes to turn over their captives. Here we have a cast of seemingly thousands in tribal arrays and confrontations. As always Kinski’s character is consumed by a kind of madness – in reality he was diagnosed a psychopath – so, folks, this ain’t acting! The famous collaboration between Herzog, who can only be described as a genius for the making of these and countless other films that pushed the limits, and Kinski, is depicted in the documentary My Best Fiend. That’s right, fiend not friend. Kinski, father of the famed Natassha Kinski, may sear his presence into a character but he alienated virtually everyone around him. There are scenes of him raving at the camera crew and women especially despised him. But Herzog, another searing but actually sane individual, had just the personality that made their collaboration “magic.” Kinski is one great Herzog film character. The other is Bruno S, as in The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser, based on a true story of a boy locked in a dungeon until freed and having to learn the rules of life. Even with Kinski, Herzog says Bruno Schleinstein was “the best” actor he ever worked with.....With just under a week to go, there are many, many other Herzog films to watch before the online screen goes dark. 

98th Oscars - an admittedly blinkered view

As typically I avoided Sunday night's Oscars. I'm of the same view as Woody Allen and this year Sean Penn (who also skipped them and he won), that these ceremonies are a lot of over the top hokum. The Brits have a good term for actors at awards ceremonies - "luvies" - because they sing each other's praises and throw their arms around one another ad nauseum. (What really happened on those film sets?) And I also didn't see most of the nominated films, either because of lack of interest or they never made it to my city (thanks film distributors!). But let me take a stab at some of the nominated films and winners anyway, as blinkered as my view is. As everyone everywhere predicted One Battle After Another (Paul Thomas Anderson) won. I avoided because, well, I wasn't interested in seeing a violence-spewed flic about ex-radicals. I did see nominees Hamnet, Marty Supreme and Sentimental Value. Of those I'd select Marty Supreme - fast-paced and fine acting in a realistic period setting. Hamnet (Chloé Zhao) was basically a family drama about an errant husband (Will Shakespeare) in the 16th century. Screen wife Jessie Buckley won for best actress but I would have chosen Rose Byrne in If I Had Legs I'd Kick You.  Michael B. Jordan won for Sinners, which I didn't see - not really into vampires. I would have chosen Ethan Hawke in Blue Moon, a superb performance to an extent I didn't even know who the actor was (and I'm a long time fan) given the makeup and captivating changed persona. For Best Director I would have chosen Josh Safdie for Marty Supreme (see above). I'll pass on the supporting male and female actors. Norway's Joachim Trier won for Sentimental Value in the international category. For me it was just a meh movie. It's hard for me to comment on some of the other awards because I didn't see most of those movies or have little to compare the winners with. For best documentary I would have liked to have seen the winner Mr. Nobody Against Putin (David Borenstein & Pavel Talankin) and I did think The Perfect Neighbor (Geeta Gandbhir) was excellent, especially given the story was all told from "third party" police bodycam or prison cell footage...... And next year I'll probably also have not seen most of the films on offer. 

Raw footage of a neighbourhood dispute

Here's one film up for an Oscar this month (March 15) you can watch on Netflix. It's nominated for best documentary. It's called The Perfect Neighbor. Directed by Geeta Gandbhir this "immersive" documentary lets the "characters" and action speak for themselves. There is no voiceover or separate third party interviews. The entire film is raw footage taken from police bodycams, dashcams, doorbell ring cameras and police station interrogation videos. The events take place in a working class suburb of Ocala, FL in spring 2023. It's the true story of a neighbourhood conflict between Susan Lorincz, a single middle aged white woman, and her mostly black neighbours. It's a type of dispute that occurs everyday. Lorincz keeps complaining about the kids who live across the street often playing on her property and making a lot of noise. She says the police don't respond enough and she can never get the kids - or their families - to cooperate. When police are called we see the raw footage of their interactions with both Lorincz and the neighbours - both kids and parents. Lorincz seems to have a point though comes across as a little paranoid or in fact mentally disturbed. The neighbours say they cooperate and the kids don't purposely try to harass her but yes sometimes their playthings or they themselves end up on Lorincz's property. There are several instances where the police are called and the tension between Lorincz and the other families escalates. The police are caught in the middle and try to mediate. Without giving too much away eventually a confrontation happens and an arrest is made. We then view the accused in a police cell being interviewed by detectives. This film will hold you because of its stark everyday realism that everyone who lives in an average neighbourhood can relate to, but with the building sense of what's going to happen next. It will make you think about how people interact and the legal framework in which confrontations take place and are dealt with. And while I felt terribly sorry for the victim I also felt some sympathy for the person arrested, guilt notwithstanding. 

Last night I caught a documentary, The Storms of Jeremy Thomas, on the Criterion Channel, about a famed producer I had never heard of. His name is Jeremy Thomas and he's produced or directed more than 30 films with some of the major stars of our time - from Brando to Nicholson and Bowie. And worked alongside such famed directors as Bernardo Bertolucci, David Cronenberg and Nicolas Roeg. The central feature of this film is a road trip as Thomas takes this doc's director Mark Cousins through rural France to the 2018 Cannes festival. The film has snippets from major films of the last four decades and interviews with some of the actors who've worked with him. It's a respectful portrait and certainly interesting for anyone who likes cinema. Thomas is one of those people well known and hailed in the film world but to someone like me it was "who knew?"

All about Melania

I wasn’t going to see the self-produced film Melania about - who else - Melania Trump, the First Lady of the United States. I’d read that it was boring and frankly not great filmmaking. But I was curious. Then I saw the massive discrepancy between the critics' approval score of 10% versus the public's score of 99%.  And the film smashed documentary records with a first week box office return of $7million, the best opening for a doc in more than a decade (will it be shown at Toronto’s Hot Docs? Hmmm)  By Feb. 16 it had grossed $15.6M.  At my screening there was applause at the end. My hunch was something was wrong. This seemed more than critics' taste; alas, could it be bias? Film critics, as is Hollywood, are almost universally liberal or left wing. Had this self-indulgent film (and it is self-indulgent) been about Michelle Obama or Jill Biden the critics may not have swooned but they wouldn't have wholesale derided it, would they have? Because, after all, their opinion was likely more against Donald Trump than Melania - she was just the proxy. Melania produced the film herself - that's interesting - and the director was Rush Hour's Brett Ratner. So, being the sometimes contrarian that I am, I went to see it. And, yes yes, the film is highly one-sided and shows Mel (can I call her that?) in the best light possible. Nevertheless I still found it absorbing. Perhaps it's because, if nothing else, it provides a close insight into the executive branch of government and the kind of "insider's view" we'd never see anywhere else. The film follows Melania in the 20 days leading up to the 2025 Inauguration. There's her in the Trumps’ gilded Fifth Ave apartment with her fashion courtesans, measuring gowns. A former model she proves exacting and highly knowledgeable. Interesting that most of her wardrobe staff are immigrants. Then there's film of her in her limousine between NYC and Mar-a-Lago and the US Capitol on the eve of the Inauguration - simply the kind of behind the scenes images we never see. There's even a scene in the White House’s family quarters at 2 am after all the Inauguration balls have ended and Donald waves goodnight. Someone wishes him "sweet dreams" and he replies, "ha." Another aspect of her personality which stands out is her commitment to oppressed women and children around the world, as she meets with Queen Rania of Jordan and with Aviva Siegel, kidnapped during the Oct. 7 Hamas atrocities against Israel. There’s some humor when on election night she takes a call from hubby Donald, informing her of his across-the-board vote wins. She says she hasn’t been watching the coverage and is almost disinterested, noting she will watch a recording later. She's ultimately her own woman. 

About that Amanda Seyfried, and dear old Will

Two weeks ago I didn't even know who Amanda Seyfried was although probably a good chunk of the rest of the world did. Then I saw The Housemaid. I certainly knew who Sydney Sweeney - today's H'Wood It-Girl - was but didn't know who the hell the opposite character in this  comedic-horror picture exactly was. Long blond hair and very pliable acting persona, check and check. The Housemaid isn't that great a film but adequate and will bring a smile to your face. It's directed by Paul Feig, who seems to specialize in suburban comedy-mysteries. I really liked his A Simple Favor (2018) with mischievously quirky - and cute - Anna Kendrick. In this film Sweeney as the maid is paired

against Seyfried as the house chatelaine. I'll let you decide how the dynamic unfolds. The story actually had me going, not expecting the monumental plot twist that eventually happens. Seyfried, however, plays a blend of personalities showing off quite a wide breadth of styles. That's enough about The Housemaid. A few nights later I caught The Testament of Ann Lee,  Mona Fastvold's take on the 18th century Quaker Shakers sect, which apparently only has two remaining members. Seyfried plays Lee. Of course this is an entirely different character and extends Seyfried's range - is it limitless? But not only that, this is a musical - the best thing I loved about the film although the numerous scenes of Shakers doing their shaker thing - wild stiff hypnotic body movements -  was pretty awesome. And her voice is sweet and melodic voicing a score (Daniel Blumberg) based on traditional Shaker hymns. Fastvold may have conceived the film as a feminist take on evangelical Christianity as Shakers believe Jesus' Second Coming will be as a woman. 

Hamnet - It was a big in-theater movie week last week for me - count 'em, three nights is a row! - when I took in the movie everyone is talking about. I shouldn't have got my hopes too high. Hamnet (Chloé Zhao) is a very well made film and the acting by Jessie Buckley as Agnes Shakespeare and Paul Mescal (another one who is everywhere these days) as good ol' Will, is fine indeed, even though I wondered about that earring in Mescal's ear. But if you're expecting a wide sweep about Shakespeare's life and times forget it. This is essentially an intimate family drama - substitute the Shakespeares, in fact, for any modern family - and not about the Bard's genius. In fact he comes off as a bit of an oaf. And it might even resonate with that whole "long distance relationship" thing. The last scenes of the production of the play Hamlet (another name for Hamnet) at London's Globe Theatre, however, are magnificent. Everybody says this movie will wring out your tears. I must be a pretty insensitive type because it didn't do that for me, though the woman sitting beside me did take out a Kleenex and dabbed her eyes at the very end. 

Seyfried redux: Despite her stupendous acting I can't let mention of her go by without commenting on her Marie Antoinette tendencies. Our dear Amanda recently spent tens of thousands to have her pooch transferred on private jets to her Testament shooting locales in Hungary and Sweden. "It was not in my best interest financially, but it was in his best interest, and my emotional best interest, because I needed him there," says the diva. Revolutions were started because of behavior like this. 

Marty Supreme: a lot of sound and fury

Poor Johnny Oleksinski of the NY Post and myriad other critics in thinking Josh Sadie's Marty Supreme is the best movie of 2025 - "It’s cinematic Mountain Dew. You’ll be wired for the entire 2½ hours." Not quite. With laurels like this - it has a 95% critics rating on Rotten Tomatoes (and admittedly an 83% fan one) - I couldn't wait to run to a theatre to see it. But, alas, disappointment reigns. Okay I'll give the movie props for an exceedingly realistic re-creation of the early 1950s. And undoubtedly star Timothée Chalamet's acting is a tour de force as much as his metaphoric ping pong player character's tour of Europe and Japan is in the film. He deserves the Oscar (he's already been awarded two acclaims). I'll also credit Sadie with laboring an astonishingly meticulous depiction of the game of table tennis, and good direction generally. The problem is: is this a story to have slaved over so much? Sure, ping pong is a niche underrated - especially when you see the gamesmanship here - sport. And it's great (I guess) the Sadie is bringing it out of the doldrums. Some people would say who cares. But it doesn't matter what the subject is so long as the movie depicting it makes sense and flows with enough energy. Okay, Marty Supreme flows heavily and is fast-paced. But after awhile all this kinesis starts to become numbing and rather unrealistic. Scene after scene Marty is engaging in some over the top argument or scam or physical confrontation with family members, friends and indeed enemies. Can one person - let alone a nebbish ping pong player - display such extreme vim and vigour? And I couldn't figure out why he would steal money after a seemingly successful tour albeit as a freak athlete. If this is a movie about a little known but wondrous marginal sport I wanted to see it, not another gangland style picture. A phrase kept coming to mind, "full of sound and fury, signifying...." as I also looked at my watch wondering when the conclusion would come to this 2.29 minute somewhat extravaganza. Meanwhile, an over the hill Gwyneth Paltrow - why her? - as Marty's Hollywood heartthrob actress, was meh. But I must say it was a gas to see Shark Tank's Kevin O'Leary not just in cameo but throughout as a ruthless businessman. Is more acting in Mr. Wonderful's future?

Chase's everyman a comic delight, and hi-def's loss of mystique

I tuned into CNN's I'm Chevy Chase and You're Not much hyped doc last night. Usually I don't get sucked into hype but I have a genuine interest in Chevy Chase going back to the first iteration of SNL characters. I never realized what an over the top outrageous guy (some have used other terms) in real life he was/is. Hard to believe he's now 82 and looks every bit it. What was almost as interesting was watching interviews with seminal characters in his rise to fame and how they have aged along with him, like Goldie Hawn (still looking pretty good) and SNL producer Lorne Michaels (who looks as aged as Chase) and how so many look a respectable "older person" as opposed to their hairy hippyish 70s versions. Regardless, on screen, there was always something uproariously funny and everyman about Chase's characters as per European Vacation (Amy Heckerling, 1985), Christmas Vacation (Jeremiah Chechik, 1898) or Caddyshack (Harold Ramis, 1980). He's one of those comedians I'll never get tired of watching.

I'm not sure if I like hi-definition video. I have been watching Turner Classic Movies (TCM) on an advanced/contemporary TV during my vacation stay (or "advanced" to me since I don't have TV at home) and the experience is somewhat jarring. I'm simply not comfortable with it. Sure the video is clearer - much clearer - almost like being on the set of the film shoot with the camera crew all around me. There is Joan Crawford as Mildred Pierce (in Michael Curtiz's 1945 Mildred Pierce) walking out of a living room with her dead lover (Zachary Scott as Monte Beragon) sprawled on the floor - a little too close for comfort. Or Orson Welles as John Foster Kane (in Welles's 1941 Citizen Kane, photo above) marching into the city room of the New York Inquirer about to turn the staid newspaper into an exuberant journalistic force to be reckoned with. Whoa, I'm loving the scene but a little distance please! Or Anthony Newley's Charlie Blake making clumsy romantic overtures to Sandy Dennis's Sara Deever in the original version of Sweet November (Robert Ellis Miller, 1968). Don't get me wrong, it's astonishing that movies can be shown this clearly. Hi-definition technically refers to at least 480 vertical scan lines compared to standard definition or analogue viewing. It reminds me of video from some early-1960s television shows which also had a higher - or clearer - look to them and which to me are too realistic. Interestingly, when we see movies on the big screen in theatres, despite digital projection, the result is still the same as it's always been, a kind of "distance" between viewer and action. Perhaps it's simply what I'm used to, but by being so absolutely intrusive, hi-def takes away a certain mystique. 

Another Knives Out: is there something I'm missing?

 

I may not be the sharpest pencil in the pack but every once in a while, a movie comes along that utterly befuddles me. A few come to mind: The Maltese Falcon (John Huston 1941), Gosford Park (Robert Altman 2001) and the Knives Out series of movies, all directed and written by Rian Johnson, the latest being Wake Up Dead Man (after a two-week theatrical release it's on Netflix beginning today). I caught it last week in London UK in a very pleasant Curzon chain theatre, where they serve food and beverages at your seat. Since I never fully got the plot of the only other Knives Out film I’ve seen, 2022’s Glass Onion (the second in the series), I didn’t have high expectations for this. Who knows – all this might just be above my brain level. And I was right - I didn’t get it. Or, I kind of did. But, come on, another convoluted and almost ridiculous plot just like Glass Onion? Maybe I’m just not a murder mystery buff but at least in Agatha Christie or Alfred Hitchcock you can follow the plot. Of course, I won’t go into detail here. But I also notice in the four or five reviews I’ve read of the movie - all by reviewers who loved it – no once delves into the plot either, and I don’t think it’s because they want to give it away. Sure, we like twists and turns. But with Johnson we have twists, turns, dead ends, cul de sacs and both one- and two-way streets. Again, maybe I’m just not bright enough. Or maybe I was just bored and turned off. But why can’t a movie be a whodunnit without all the minutiae of details? Here’s the basic outline. The story takes place in a Catholic church. There are several generations of priests. There is a valuable inheritance. Of course, the plot pivots around a mistaken perpetrator, par for the murder mystery course. Forget the convolutions, the story itself isn’t interesting, and why all this effort to solve an exceedingly unreal scenario? Daniel Craig, as always, is southern detective Benoit Blanc, and he does a good job (so funny watching his transition from James Bond). Josh O’Connor, the central character, is Rev. Jud Duplenticy (duplicitous?). It was also nice seeing an (appropriately) aged Glenn Close as Martha, the priests’ assistant. Jeremy Renner takes a turn as the good doctor Nat Sharp.  Josh Brolin has a central role as a vulgar priest. The other question I have about this film is its context: the Catholic church. The film doesn’t exactly assault Roman Catholicism but uses its symbols (the crucifix, the confessional, a corrupt clergyman) as props. Popular culture has long derided the church, from Tom Lehrer’s The Vatican Rag, to Pope on a Rope to even calling the pope’s vehicle the Popemobile. I was brought up Catholic and I guess I’m not offended. But what other religion have you seen so mocked?

And congrats to the Windsor International Film Festival (WIFF) for breaking another attendance record this fall, more than 50,000 tickets sold. The festival indeed is on track not only to become one of the country's premier regional festivals but a distinct destination-oriented festival for cinephiles far and wide, similar, say, to Sundance. And its gravitas grows as it draw film professionals from across the country and abroad. In its now 20th year it's more than the little festival that could, screening 231 features, 141 films from leading world film fests, more than 60 francophone films and 25 local ones. It's a genuine Windsor success story, and increasingly a Canadian one as well.