Think of Malaga as a little Cannes

The Malaga Film Festival, or as it's known here the Festival de Málaga, is now in its 27th year and seems a big deal in this exquisite midsize city in southwestern Spain (pop. half a million) and Picasso's birthplace. Now in its 27th year it has the flavor of a mini Cannes, with a huge red carpet rolled out all the way along a central promenade, a grand entrance way, and packed streets with people behind festival barricades around the central cinema, Teatro Cervantes in Malaga’s Casco Antiguo (old town). It ran 11 days in early March and I was happy to catch at least three of the flicks. The festival is a toast to Spanish cinema and so many of the films, especially those made in Spain itself, don't have English subtitles. I of course opted for the few that did, and they were all North American. The first was by veteran Spanish and internationally-acclaimed filmmaker Isabel Coixet's and her Things I Never Told You, part of a retrospective of her work. She attended the screening and it was a kick to see the Spanish paparazzi (or whatever the Spanish term is) out in force to snap pix of the director during her introduction. The 1994 release stars then popular actress Lili Taylor along with Andrew McCarthy and Seymour Cassel. This thoroughly American film, in English and shot in rural Oregon, is about a displaced young woman (Taylor) at wit's end after being dumped long distance by her boyfriend. It was fun to see Taylor again after all these years, whose demeanor was split between subtle sarcasm and calm anger in an obvious character study of the whims of anomie. The second film was Lumbrendream (Firedream) by José Pablo Escamilla of Mexico. Dark both figuratively and literally, this film about the trap of young people with no futures working in the fast food industry, was well acted. But its characters' angst had a repetitive element and the picture, shot in gloomy and tight indoor surroundings, had a claustrophobic quality. Yes, I looked at my watch several times! The third film was, from Cuba, The Wild Woman by Alan Gonzalez. Here we had at least the semblance of a plot and tension, which the last film lacked. Lola Amores as Youlanda, caught in a cycle of violence and on the run, is trying to find her son in the backstreets of Havana's barrio. (The flick had its world premiere last Sept. in Toronto.)....The festival’s central theatre, Cervantes - and a stone's throw from Picasso's childhood home - is a beautifully intimate opera house style historic venue. The Festival de Málaga may not have been Cannes but it had a similar atmosphere on a smaller scale, and, alas,  is located on the Mediterranean to boot.

No particular need to hold over The Holdovers

I wanted to like The Holdovers, Alexander Payne's celebrated and Best Picture nominated film starring Paul Giamatti. I caught it on an Air Canada flight to London, a surprise since the film was still out in theatres (but not in Windsor-Detroit to my frustration). When it comes to films, Air Canada is no slouch, with a great selection of several genres including obviously current releases. Giamatti is one of my favourite actors, best known for Miles Raymond's 2004 Sideways, a buddy film about a frenzied tour of California wine country. Giamatti is great here as well, about the best thing in this film that otherwise is depleted in story, quite a disappointment from what I was expecting and the generally quite favourable reviews. It’s about a group of students at a New England college in the early 1970's. Why that time I don't know, unless the filmmakers like the era's music; it could be set at any time. Giamatti is perfect as the irascible curmudgeon teacher Paul Hunham (more like Humbug, as the move is set at Christmas). You know the type, a pedant and sticker for details, the kind of prof students just love to hate. He’s a stuffed shirt and tight ass as well, which is the unexpected character reveal in this film, which is as much about his character's deficiencies as the dynamics of his supervision over a group of students who are stranded at the college, for whatever reasons, and can’t get away for the holidays. Frankly, I was expecting a film more along the lines of My Dinner with Andre (Louis Malle, 1981), with teacher and students, stuck together with nothing else to do, engaging in free-flowing dialogue about philosophy and life, with spark and wit bouncing off each one. It wasn't to be. Instead Hunham, the tight ass, forces his students to study over the holidays - what an  idiot! - until such time as one student’s parent arrives and rescues most of them for a ski vacation. That leaves just Angus (Dominic Sessa) and the film turns into a kind of buddy picture with Hunham letting his hair down (what he has of it) and trooping into Boston for the day with his student. But it doesn't end well for out ultimately sad sack hero, another plot twist that didn't need to be.

I’m in Malaga Spain and the Malaga Film Festival is on all this week. It's the first time I’ve been here when the festival is on. But to my chagrin the overwhelming number of films are in Spanish (makes sense) and lack English subtitles. But I am going to see an exception tonight, Things I Never Told You, 1996's Spanish director Isabel Coixet's American-based film starring Lili Taylor. It's being screened in the beautiful Cine Albéniz (photo left), right beside the Roman amphitheater and sheltered under the hilltop Alcazaba (fortress) on the edge of the old town, perfect for a scene in a movie. 

Anatomy of a Fall, this time with English subtitles

So, I watched Anatomy of a Fall (Justine Triet), winner of last year’s Palme d’Or (and screened at WIFF) and it’s easy to see why. The acting is taut, subtle, nuanced, and convincing. This is the film I walked out on last fall in Athens, Greece, thinking more of it would be in English. It’s actually in French, German and English but the English is very limited. And in Greece there are subtitles – yes – but only in Greek! But it's available now on YouTube for $6.99. The film, co-written by Triet, has an interesting premise as a crime story and courtroom procedural. It’s actually about a physical fall – someone falling from a third-floor window – and ensuing indictment and trial. But it could have been about anything. Triet draws great performances from Sandra Hüller (with whom she collaborated on 2019’s Sibyl ) and the rest of the cast. I’m not big on court dramas but the acting is so well done, the plot so paced, and the cuts to "scenes of the crime" providing proper relief,  that it makes the film compelling. No more about this because it’s a subtle whodunit. A key animal, Dog Snoop, also has a starring role and won the Palm Dog Award - it exists!

Also on YouTube is Nicole Holofcener’s You Hurt My Feelings (2023), the latest from the director of comedy-dramas about contemporary, female-focused and often overthinking American urban liberals. The focus of the plot is slight but enough to keep your attention on an incident in the marriage of yet another oh-so-modern-couple played by Julia Louis-Dreyfus and Tobias Menzies. I didn’t recognize Louis-Dreyfus because her hair is shorter and she almost looks like Tina Fey. Holofcener is a one time protégé of Woody Allen and it shows, since these neurotic Manhattan characters could be right out of his films. Nothing special here but I can think of worse ways to spend a Saturday night.

The best rebuttal to the “it’s so unfair” chorus that Barbie (Greta Gerwig) didn’t get an Oscar nom for Best Picture and Best Director is Rich Lowery’s NY Post column. Check it out at Margot Robbie's 'Barbie' Oscars snub is no loss for feminism (nypost.com)

I hate to say it. But now when I see minorities in a film I have to wonder if this is because their inclusion is designed to fulfil diversity quotas. Starting with this year’s Oscars a film must meet two of four standards for Best Picture including at least one minority lead actor or significant supporting actors and the main storyline being the same. I never questioned who was in a film previously but now the thought is in the back of my mind.

And I’m still waiting to see Alexander Payne’s The Holdovers (2023) that seems as elusive as the sun these days. It’s getting rave reviews but not available in any theatres nor even to rent online. Wouldn’t it be great if cinemas made available all 10 Best Picture nominees just before Oscar time?

Canada's most politically incorrect film

Quebec filmmaker Denys Arcand's Testament, released last fall, screened this month at WIFF  and now available online, is the most politically incorrect film, at least coming from Canada, possibly ever made, or since there's been the term “political correctness.” This is an almost guffaw-a-minute send-up of contemporary modern mores, aka woke. That it has been made in Canada is stunning. But, as we've seen in that province’s official rebuke to issues like religious symbols, in Quebec there may be more tolerance, shall we say, for questioning bien pensant opinion. And Testament does it in spades. Jean-Michel Bouchard (popular Quebec actor Rémy Girard) is an aged archivist living in a retirement home, the name of which oozes satire "Parizeau-Duplessis." The film opens with a pianist performing for residents and a zoom in on a background mural, of Jacques Cartier meeting the Iroquois with Mont-Royal in the background. Oh oh. Will this soon be controversial? Bouchard is a little "out of touch,” as an office subordinate says, because he doesn’t use electronic gimmicks to pry into people's lives to gather archival information. At an awards ceremony stereotyped activist writers climb over him to accept prizes for works like Vaginas on Fire and Oppression & Vengeance. He’s told to leave a discussion of "the intersexualization of identities." But Bouchard’s is a peaceful life, the elder bachelor, going for cemetery strolls. "I’ve spent my life in a peaceful province in a boring insignificant country," yet such places are "the happiest." A friend, a fitness freak and competitive cyclist, mocks his inactivity, only himself to come to an ironic end. "He never smoked or drank alcohol...we went vegan" wails his distraught wife. But the archivist gets caught up in a predictably contemporary crisis when a woke mob starts picketing the retirement home. The Cartier mural "is a painting of a foretold genocide," barks a non-native protester. Home director Suzanne Francoeur (Sophie Lorain) is intimidated and contacts her health ministry superiors in Québec City who tell her in no uncertain terms to fix the problem. "The last thing we need is a conflict with the First Nations." Francoeur (spoiler alert) acts accordingly but creates a bigger scandal when the art world denounces her as a philistine, sacrificing a famous mural and artist – “The French-Canadian Michelangelo" - on the altar of political correctness. That, ironically, sparks demonstrations by Québec nationalists shouting, “Save our Heritage” and “Quebec is our history” with Quebec’s unofficial anthem Gens du pays playing in the background. Francoeur, for her part, is to be "exiled to Quebec City." The movie has myriad mocking asides, from sending up video games to pronouns, tattoos, gender neutral washrooms to Quebec culture itself. "I saw a boring Quebec film at a matinee," sighs Jean-Michel. Also slighted are sacred cows Cirque du Soleil and Celine Dion. And the province's response to Covid, arguably the worst in Canada when it came to nursing home outbreaks, also comes in for a shellacking. The Quebec City minister tells Francoeur "during the pandemic the government was completely lost" but kept up “appearances” like it has to do on this issue. That this movie was made in any country in an otherwise woke film industry is remarkable. That it was made in Canada, in 2023, albeit in Quebec, is rather astounding.

 

Doc overturns accepted George Floyd narrative

Throw away all you know about the George Floyd case. A new documentary The Fall of Minneapolis gives a totally opposite narrative from what the world has come to know as the “murder” of Floyd on Memorial Day 2020 with the complicity of Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin, now convicted and serving more than 20 years. Made by former local CBS affiliate anchor Liz Collin, the documentary is remarkable in showing reams of police body camera video from numerous angles and from an overall context of prior to the arrest to the ensuing detainment of Floyd outside a party store that fateful day. Why were we never exposed to these images and voluminous evidence? Here are some of the film's salient points. Floyd’s “I can’t breathe” iconic quote - used as a universal rallying cry against police brutality and to Defund the Police – was said many times before Chauvin pinioned him to the ground, including sitting up in a patrol car. The body cams show the immense struggle police had with Floyd, who was arrested after allegedly passing counterfeit bills. The bodycam footage was denied as trial evidence. What about Chauvin allegedly kneeling on Floyd’s neck preventing his breathing? The official autopsy found “no physical evidence suggesting Mr. Floyd died of asphyxiation” as he did “not exhibit signs of petechiae, damage to his airways or thyroid, brain bleeding, bone injuries, or internal bruising.” But toxicology tests showed Floyd had a “fatal level of fentanyl” in his blood along with methamphetamine, suffering from Covid, severe “arteriosclerotic heart disease,” with one artery 75% obstructed, and “hypertensive heart disease.” The documentary says the FBI intervened and the report was changed to find Chauvin to blame. Cause of death had become “cardiopulmonary arrest complicating law enforcement subdual, restraint, and neck compression.” What about Chauvin’s knee restraint? This is by the book MRT (maximal restraint technique) which all police officers were trained in. This despite the police chief’s denial on the witness stand. Judge Peter Cahill refused that manual evidence. There’s more, a lot more. The images and content are shocking and make you ask how such a miscarriage of justice, by the state and prosecutor’s office, could ever have taken place. The answer? The braying mob outside the courthouse, and media and political opinion in the charged racialized atmosphere, demanded a sacrifice. Watch yourself at The Fall of Minneapolis | A Crowdfunded Documentary (www.thefallofminneapolis.com)

Uh, what city was this filmed in?

From time to time there are certain things that preoccupy me about a movie. It may have nothing to do with the plot or characters. Indeed, that was the case with the new film by Norwegian director Kristoffer Borgli, screened this week by the Windsor International Film Festival (WIFF), Dream Scenario. Sure, the plot was intriguing and fantastical, about a man who starts showing up in hundreds – nay, multitudes – of people’s dreams. Poor bearded Paul Matthews (Nick Cage), mild mannered biology professor at some obscure college named Osler. Learned, middle class and envious of colleagues’ professional achievements, Cage finds fame in today’s world of social media-like influencers, by benignly making guest appearances in an ‘I‘ll see you in my dreams’ sort of way. The film did and didn’t work for me. Quirky and interesting, yes. But pedestrian and predictable too. But, say what you will, what I’m really trying to get at here is that, watching it, I wanted more than anything to know where the movie was made. There were certain background or atmospheric scenes that raised the question. Obviously, it was set in the autumn but with astonishing maple tree colors, so it has to be in the North American Northeast. Massachusetts, Vermont? I thought I spotted a Massachusetts license plate. But there was something different about the streetscapes. They didn’t especially look “American.” Nor the houses. Where had I spotted streets like this before? But the greater giveaway was in the institutional college settings' emergency exit signs showing the international green running figure, which Canada adopted a few years ago. Even the house that the Matthews family lived in had a “Montreal or Toronto” look. And those deep leafy streets and vivid fall colors? Even the college’s name was a giveaway “Osler,” a TO institutional name if ever there was one. Sure enough, the movie was shot in The Big Smoke.

I re-subscribed to Netflix this summer, opting for the cheapest ad-based plan at only $6.77 (Cdn) a month. And what I got hooked on, for the first time, were binge-watching TV series, like Maestro in Blue (from Greece), The Tailor (Turkey), Catastrophe (UK) and Love and Anarchy (Sweden). While I watched a few movies – among them Despite Everything, Le Weekend and Fair Play - more numerous were all the ones I discarded as utterly unwatchable – slow-paced, derivative, cliched, losing the plot. Here they are: Do Not Disturb, Side Effects, The Age of Adaline, Forgotten Love, NYAD, Capitani, Rebecca, Crazy Stupid Love, Manifest, Transatlantic, Florida Man, Love is in the Air, Bodies, Sleeping Dog, Marcella, Love….Glad I’m only paying $6.77 a month!

Film clips: Windsor the next Telluride?

After receiving a WIFF email today the thought occurred to me that Windsor could be the next Telluride or Sundance. Such has the festival’s gravitas picked-up, like an increasing snowball – and now garnering national recognition – that WIFF is taking on the trappings of the “small festival that could.” International stars increasingly are attending, as are audience members from outside the area with Windsor more and more being seen as a destination festival. Accordingly, says WIFF in the email recapping the past year and most succesful yet, with 186 features and over 300 screenings. “Most importantly, we had people from all over North America visit Windsor to experience film and community at WIFF, affirming our vision of becoming a nationally recognized, industry-leading cultural destination.” 

The Globe and Mail recently did a story about the Toronto’s film festival’s touring series called the Film Circuit, which distributes TIFF films to communities across Canada. Windsor’s fest director was quoted. “We were part of Film Circuit for 18 years and grew with them, learned from them about building relationships with distributors and filmmakers and how it all works, and now we’re here,” says executive director Vincent Georgie of the Windsor International Film Festival. “We then forged our own path forward, but absolutely with a debt due to TIFF.”

I’m in Greece. But before leaving home in Canada I had re-signed with Netflix but to its low budget platform for less than $10/month but which includes commercials. Really no big deal as they are few and far between and don’t last long and are sometimes even interesting. I was able to watch Netflix in England but this cheaper platform isn’t supported in Greece. Different strokes for different countries, I guess.

In England, in Exeter in southwest England, there’s a little idiosyncratic gem of a museum at the city’s university, The Bill Douglas Cinema Museum (photo above). Douglas, now deceased, was a British filmmaker and as importantly a major collector of thousands of pieces of cinema paraphernalia. What’s most intriguing is the display of early 20th century and pre-20th rudimentary moving image machines or contraptions that mimicked motion such as mirrors, peep shows, optical illusions, dioramas and phantasmagoria or modified magic lanterns to project “supernatural” images.