5 Failures of 2012

Here are some hours from 2012 I wish I had back.

Beasts of the Southern Wild - 6

BEASTS OF THE SOUTHERN WILD

All attempts to make this the celebration of the tenacity of the impoverished fall flat on for Behn Zeitlin. As good as Quvenzhané Wallis is, her intellectualism bombards us and ring false and pretentious at every moment. The film offends everyone. It claims the poor have no interested in help, and that assistance programs are invasions. What’s worse the film goes for cheap sentiment towards her irredeemable father. Add a tacked on magic realism subplot that goes no where and you have a bunch of prep school filmmakers thinking its cute to be cozy with the lower classes. I call bull.

Haywire

HAYWIRE

When you direct without your heart in it, the audience can tell.  I think Steven Soderbergh just wanted to showcase Carano’s fighting style and choreograph her action sequences with visually clarity.  There’s nothing wrong with that (see The Raid) but don’t bring your art film directions into it too.  Soderbergh has no interest in the thin plot and it shows, so why does he wants to suck the energy out of the only thing this film does have, it’s action scenes is beyond me.

The Master

THE MASTER

There’s talent on the screen, and this film has many defenders, but I felt it was always at arm’s length with me.  There’s a lot P.T. Anderson‘s The Master wants to say about masculine identity in America during the post war period, about the conflicts that arise when our civilized and animal natures take odds, but the film is intentionally coy and oblique; leaving you to constantly question what its characters are doing and why.  The Master deflates under its own confusion; all wind up but no follow through.

Prometheus

PROMETHEUS

Some films can get away with laps in logic if they exist in a narrative where it doesn’t matter.  When the thrills come every five minutes in The Dark Knight, why stop to wonder if it makes any sense?  However when your film is presented as a mystery, with each reveal as connecting pieces in a puzzle, it all better make sense.  Ridley Scott‘s Prometheus had promise.  There are fantastic visuals and truly terrifying set pieces in it, but it crumbles under the weight of ridiculous character motivations and the smallest bit of hindsight.

Les Miserables

LES MISERABLES

One of the worst offenders in recent years, Tom Hopper‘s film is an insufferable bombardment of bland music, whirling cameras and abundance of characters.  If the play is meant to feel like it’s rushed 1200 pages of narrative into 2.5 hours, than the film is successful in translating that bad idea.  The film never takes a breath to let us know who these people are and why I should care. Worse, this film’s morality is off.  How do you expect me to feel for Hathaway during her “Dream a dream” number when you just presented French prostitutes as being extras from a Tim Burton film? (“Lovely Ladies”) You either treat it with respect or you ridicule it, but you can’t do both in the same film.  Disrespecting poverty was actually the opposite of Hugo’s intent, but who cares about that when you’re writing a musical?  You just want them to hum the songs when they leave.

Better Late than Never: The 15 Best films of 2012

Well, it took a while, but here are the 15 best films I saw last year:

Holy Motors

1. HOLY MOTORS

This year, Leos Carax‘s meta-movie dream, Holy Motors was a film like no other. By using techniques specific to cinema as a commentary on the medium, Carax has us question our reality, the film’s reality and the relationship between the two. To our benefit Holy Motors is never weighed down by its existentialism. Rather, it seems to stick its tongue out at it. Holy Motors is constantly funny, mad and light on its feet. Even when it’s completely insane, it’s straight forward in its direction and always entertaining.

We spend a day following Monsieur Oscar (Denis Levant in the performance of the year) in the back of his white limousine, turned mobile dressing room. We assume he’s an actor as we watch him change into different characters and give various performances through out Paris. He’s escorted by his loyal driver Céline.

But the crux of Holy Motors’ argument is, who is the audience? None is present during these performances. They play out like moments in our everyday lives, some more cinematic than others. Are we the audience? Us, in the theatre watching? (as strongly suggested by the film prologue) But we are given behind the scenes access, the artificiality of Oscar’s performances is revealed to us. Who is this illusion for, then?

Holy Motors also suggests that our everyday lives are performances, and that each other, or even a higher power is our audience. Somewhere outside of our perception sits an audience inside a theatre watching the fantastical melodrama of our lives. Carax suggests all of these answers are correct, and every decision we make depends entirely on who’s watching.

The Cabin in the Woods

2. THE CABIN IN THE WOODS

It couldn’t be simpler or stupider. A bunch of beautiful teens in a cabin being hunted. One by one they will die. But Drew Goddard’s The Cabin in the Woods has more going on than a retelling of this tired premise. From the very beginning we are witnessed to a bizarre surveillance crew, run by bitter working stiffs who become connected to the cabin.

But Cabin is more than just an “in joke” that caters to the horror geek crowd, Cabin attempts to destroy its genre, criticize the bad films in it, and argues that its audience deserve better.

Want more? Cabin also serves as a criticism of the human condition. If the cost of keeping humanity running is heaps of innocent dead bodies, what humanity is there to keep?

Even more? Cabin also can be viewed as an existential puzzle. Who are these teenagers in the cabin? Are they real individuals in the reality of the film, or are they knowing archetypes within the universe of the film itself?

As a viewing audience, who are we in relation to the film? Are we the ones they must bust be sacrificed to appease, or are we the giant gods in the middle of the earth?

Why do we criticize the conventions of the horror genre, yet at the same time demand they must be adhered to?

As a giant hand rushes the screen, breaking the fourth wall and destroying all humanity, we become connected with it. We are both the instigators, and the victims.

Tabu

3. TABU

Miguel Gomes‘ Tabu is always two films in one. It is literally two films, spliced right down the middle. But Tabu is also a movie with two themes, and it succeeds at both of them when its two halves sit in contrast.

Firstly the film is a harsh criticism of Portugal’s colonization of Mozambique and the wealthy privileged whites who exploited it. The second half’s silent-film adventure pretense is constantly ridiculed when contrasted to the day-to-day reality of life for middle aged women in Lisbon. It destroys the Western ideals of the “African Adventure” by framing it as a farce; a Hollywood fantasy that was only enjoyable for the entitled few. The indignities of those who were colonized are all but ignored.

It’s second theme is loneliness, and despite its judgements the film finds sympathy for both of its protagonists, Pilaf and Aurora; connecting them through a solitary moment with The Ronettes’ pop tune: “Be My Baby.”

Tabu is smart. It’s smart enough to accuse and sympathize. It understands the insult that was colonization, and understands to Portuguese who live in the shadow of its memory.

Tabu is revolutionary filmmaking at its best, giving us a vital message in a manner that only cinema can deliver.

1134604 - Zero Dark Thirty

4. ZERO DARK THIRTY

Cinema’s Rorschach test of the year, Kathryn Bigelow dares to make America question how it feels about its post 9/11 legacy; dares to ask us what we liked and hated about the good and bad, and eventually gives us a reflection of ourselves that may not be what we expected.

Our reflection is the character of Maya, who’s decade long revenge against Osama bin Laden ends with a vision of a new America overrun in new levels of corruption, inhumanity, sacrifice, heroism and torture…but it ends successfully.

Arbitrage

5. ARBITRAGE

Richard Gere give his greatest performance in Nicholas Jarecki‘s Arbitrage, a commentary on the financial and class structures of our time but disguised as a police procedural.

It suggests that for the wealthy and powerful there can be no chink in the armor; no flaw in their appearance. They must maintain the illusion they are in complete control. It matters not there is a Russian mine full of workers that won’t get their cut, or that a young woman has lost her life. Only honor among the thieving rich, white, men.

In the film’s end he will stand a man who’s lost everything, yet he will stand, praised and lauded, for his accomplishments.

Once Upon a Time in Anatolia

6. ONCE UPON A TIME IN ANATOLIA

On a night in the Turkish countryside, two killers accompanied by a convoy of policemen, soldiers, prosecutors and doctors will hunt for a buried dead body. Uninterested in the conventions of a police procedural, Nuri Bilge Ceylan is concerned with how this search reflects the conflicts developed from the intellectual capacities if each man.

The hunt reflects deeper and more complicated mysteries within the better educated. Once the body is found a second death takes dominance over the narrative: the story of a woman who knew she would die the day she gave birth, and then did. As Anatolia transforms from the haunting rural hills at night into the sobering banalities of the city at day, the film becomes a thesis about the secrets of the dead and their importance on the living.

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7. 21 JUMP STREET

So director’s Phil Lord and Chris Miller decide update another ’80′s TV show for the big screen. Who expect this to be good? 21 Jump Street is great at almost everything. As a bromance that exposes the unprocessed pains of adolescence, it’s got heart. As a police procedural, it’s smart and exciting. As a comedy, it’s gleefully bonkers, knowing when to play it straight and when to let its humour jump off the deep end. It’s completely hilarious and shouldn’t be missed.

The Raid

8. THE RAID: REDEMPTION

Because it is so fiercely devoted to its genre needs, no action film topped Gareth Evans’ The Raid. Though its plot almost non-existent (however, it does resurface nicely at the film’s end) The Raid is all about the execution of its action. By employing intelligent direction, clever set pieces and precision editing, The Raid’s constant kinetics are never disorienting. Every tool of cinema is used in service of the violence it depicts, and it’s all the better for it.

Amour

9. AMOUR

Many films are about aging and death, but few present it so stark and naked as Michael Haneke does in Amour. Free of irony and melodrama, Amour is the depiction of a lifetime of proud accomplishments in a happy marriage deteriorating. Not because of the physical ailments affecting George’s wife Anne, but rather her decision to resign from her own life as a result of them. Its effect on George devastates him and Haneke draws a stark contrast within this marriage: for as intimate as they are, there are worlds of difference between the dying and the living.

Django Unchained

10. DJANGO UNCHAINED

Quentin Tarantino‘s most graphic, troubling and horrifying picture, also is his funniest. In this balance lies the secret as to why his film works so well. There are moments of pure innocence, joy and entertainment in Django Unchained, and it is only within the frame work of a forgotten western from years past that Tarantino can offer his most vicious and deserved criticism of slavery and how it connects to the principles of America. No white Americans are innocent. Tarantino has to go all the way to Germany to find a likable white man. It’s a spit in Hollywood’s eye as well. A send up of the phony Gone With the Wind epics. While past civil war films feel like they were made with the banality of a historical reenactment. Tarantino gives us the blinding rage of the slaves who lived it.

Moonrise Kingdom

11. MOONRISE KINGDOM

Wes Anderson‘s sweet and innocent adolescent adventure is not afraid to go dark, to be filled with pain and to judge its adults. For as much as this film is about the thrill and heartache of first love, it contrasts youthful optimism with the cynicism, loneliness and failures of the adults that surround them. Moonrise Kingdom is in the kid’s corner, it argues that the idealism of youth must be carried through into adulthood and if you don’t fight for love and life you will only corrupt.

Paranorman

12. PARANORMAN

In the small Massachusetts town of Blithe Hollow, an isolated and bullied kid named Norman discovers his abilities to talk to the dead. In Paranorman the team of Sam Fell and Chris Butler take a huge gamble: they attempt to connect the bullying of today (the hot topic of now), with the bullying of the past and further connect them to themes of prejudice, xenophobia and sexism. Even more so, they wish to get kids (and their parents) questioning the idealized legacy of America’s “great” founders they were taught in school. Bonus points: the film features the first openly gay character in a children’s film. Paranorman achieves all of its progressive and subversive goals, but is never bogged down by them. It’s fast, full of action, and always hilarious.

Smashed

13. SMASHED

By never blinking in the face of alcoholism, James Ponsoldt‘s Smashed reveals its harsh realities. As the one unique disease that can elicit more disrespect than sympathy from others, is it worth it to even try and fight it at all? Mary Elisabeth Winstead embodies this question and the film succeeds through her incredible performance.

The Avengers

14. THE AVENGERS

Joss Whedon’s The Avengers manages to take the best out of Marvel’s good-but-not-great string of super-heroes and connect them with thrilling set pieces to make the best Marvel film yet. Here the cast becomes a true ensemble, not a bunch of celebrities mugging for the camera. They bond, fight, work together or alone, but everyone here feels like a necessary piece of a very entertaining puzzle. Quite a feat for a film this enormous.

Looper

15. LOOPER

Rian Johnson believes that story telling comes first and he gives us an exciting futuristic adventure that makes you wonder why most big budget sci-fi has to be so dull? He’s not re-inventing the genre here but giving us a great yarn, well told. Its time bending scenarios will make you think, its characters are likable and its performances are great. Looper is a solid time at the movies.

In Pre-Production: Health Class

Taking Health Class in school I recall repeatedly being taught the same two lessons.  First, we were taught about STDs, then we were taught about pregnancy.  The rest of the year was devoted to gym.

Each year it seemed while new material on the two subjects would be explored, new subjects weren’t.  What about the other aspects of sex?

I applaud the efforts of the school to teach kids about safe sex.  It is important to keep everyone healthy.

As for pregnancy.  The school board’s limited view of sex would conclude me to think they believe sexuality exists solely for the sake of procreation.

Does it?  Has it ever?

If you were to take a percentage of the amount of people on earth who have had sex today, what percentage were having it to reproduce?

There are a wide range of sexual acts we perform that do not lead to procreation.  Does the school board not consider them biological behavior worthy of class study?  If they’re not, why does the school board think we do them. Sinful indulgence?

If we just don’t talk about masturbation and oral sex, will it go away?

The act of reproduction creates a pleasurable response in the human body, but why was it designed that way?  Other species of animals reproduce and procreate in less exciting ways.  Why is it us, the mammals, that do so by achieving orgasm?

So much of our self-esteem and vision of ourselves is supported by our sexual performance.  Serious mental health issues are connected to an unhealthy sexuality, yet in most of the world sex education is something barely touched on, difficult to seek out, or worse: non existent.

There are also awkward and uncomfortable aspects of sex that we fail to teach children.  Many are not educated about painful elements that may occur during sex acts.

Embarrassing accidents may occur and without educating youth as to their normalcy, they may cause lasting traumatic effects, creating a negative vision of their sexuality.

Asking all of these questions to myself and my peers gave birth to my short film “Health Class”.  It’s a cause to question why we are educated so little about sexual performance, if our culture states that so much of our self-worth derives from it.  It’s the emotional trauma we all must face and experience, but few educate about.  Most of it we are expected to some-how already know.

The Two Sides of TIFF ’12, with No Money: Sept 12th

It’s quiet behind the Roy Thompson Hall.  I’m standing here in the friends and family section, just beside the red carpet.  I’m watching Penelope Cruz and Emile Hirsch start and stop their way past over a dozen reporters and camera men, but what shocks me the most is how quiet everyone is.

They’ve long since pushed through the other side of the Hall, where escort cars dropped them off before screaming fans; all pushing for a photograph or signature.

That side of the Hall is everything but silent.

In post-production these interviews will be layered with a bed of crowd noises, probably the audio from just moments ago.  A high tempo music bed will accompany the footage, and everyone will sound like they’re screaming to be heard.

But the truth is the media and celebrities have this agreement: Quiet is best.

Emile and Penelope finally leave the carpet and descend into the covered entrance where presumably they will find their seats in the Hall.

After they’re gone.  It’s our turn.

Sara, Chantelle, Bianca and I are next, and last to walk the carpet.  The media has packed up and gone; no one notices us.

We have to hurry.

The red carpet descends into a covered extension, where erected tents obscure any more photographs or publicity.

The carpet ends and you turn a corner into what must be the employees entrance of the Hall.  There are lockers and benches that line the walls and large maintenance doors for us to go through.

In front of you now is a large stack of ladders.  Any glamour left here is all in what you’re wearing, now you’re just finding your seat.

We open to a fork in the road.  Penelope, Emile and the cast and crew of Twice Born have made their way to the left, towards the mezzanine and their seats near the front row.

Not us.  We turn right, and have to climb.

Two flights of stairs we climb, up the very very top of the Roy Thompson Hall.  We are not permitted to sit near the Hall’s front.  Not yet anyways.

After the film is finished we leave the Hall like the rest of the public.  As we walk through the foyer, I see spectacular glass walls, a slick fancy bar, and a beautiful white Audi.

The red carpet is fabulous, but everyone who walks through it are here to work.  They’re employees.

The good stuff, the most beautiful part of the Hall, is saved for the audience.

Mezzanine or Balcony

Tee Shirt or Sport Jacket

Protest or Party

Truth or Illusion

During TIFF’12 I got to travel through its dualities, and that it revealed itself this way to me, I am grateful.  Thank you to The Grid Does TIFF, Grolsch beer, and of course my Collective.

I could never begin to explain to you why TIFF’12 played out for me this way, but I can only thank it for always revealing to me its two sides.

The Two Sides of TIFF ’12, with No Money: Sept 10th

A script is always about two things.

What it’s about and what it’s REALLY about.

In Rear Window, a photojournalist with a broken leg thinks his neighbor’s a killer, but it’s REALLY about his bruised ego putting everyone he loves in harm’s way.

In Seven Samurai a desperate village hires a team of warriors to defend it from bandits.  But it’s REALLY about seven lost soldiers finding one last meaning to their life.

One is the text of the film.  The other is the sub-text. Two stories, happening at the same time.  One is superficial; the other full of meaning.

As a rule, real life should never be compared to fiction.  Real life is subject to random chaos.  Anything can happen in our life, many times without meaning or closure.  This idea terrifies us, and that’s why we, as a species, created fiction.

But as a screenwriter experiencing the two sides of TIFF ’12.  I can’t seem to help it.  I feel split in two.

If you haven’t guessed by now, I am one of the 112 BellTV employees that were locked out after failed contract negotiations.

We were at the Lightbox to picket TIFF.  And in front of their Bell Fibe display we completely shut their advertisement down.

Here I am on John Street passing out flyers and picketing with signs.  I’m wearing my Lockout t-shirt, which has become camera repellant since we came down here.  If we were near a lens, it turned away like we were the plague. Sometimes they just can’t turn away.

I love the politics of what’s kept in and what’s left out of the frame.

My lockout stargazing self has been passing BellTV lockout leaflets to Voldermort (Ralph Fiennes) and General Zod or Bernadette (Terence Stamp).  Not the behavior of a typical TIFF cinephile.

But there’s the other side of my TIFF life. The side that comes out at night in nice shirts and sport-coats. Where stargazing is finding Michael Pitt’s ordered the same drink as you, and standing in the ‘friends and family’ section at Roy Thompson Hall while Penelope Cruz and Emile Hersch push their way through one press interview after another.

Collective Friction, our very determined film collective, and I have sprung to life this year, and I have been having a TIFF like never before.  And after filming our first short (and about to shoot our next three in the coming weeks) we have met industry folks with the wind in our sails.  Our collected dreams are within reach.

But which tale is the text and which is subtext. Which part of my life is real and which is superficial?

I toss and turn both ideas until they give me a headache, and in the end I must return to my original statement.  Real life and fiction should never be compared.

For the first few weeks of Sept 2012, this was the lot in life that the universe gave me.  Both sides of TIFF are real for me, because when compared, they make no sense.  One is not more important than the other.

Both the lockout tee and the sports-coat.

To my fellow Bell Lockout employees: Everything I did was provided by Grolsch beer, The Grid magazine (thanks to Siobhan Kelly), and through my collective (Sara, Brad D, Rose and Jake) to which I am very grateful.  Bell has not paid me, nor have I been paid by them.

My only rule: Complete honesty with everyone.

The Two Sides of TIFF’12, with No Money: Sept 9th

There’s an old adage: If you pretend to be something long enough, eventually you will become it.

It happens, of course, because you deceive everyone else so well, they provide you with the opportunities to pretend.  If you execute them well, are liked and admirable, you can continue fooling them.

I tell myself I’m a screenwriter.  I have written feature scripts, shorts, treatments and outlines.  I contribute to screenwriting events and networks within Toronto.  However I’ve never been paid for anything and I always seem to equate that as validation.

Someone paid for my work, now I can call myself a writer.

With this in mind, I attended four TIFF parties on Sunday.

Sara, Rose and I arrive at the CFC BBQ.  Absolutely everyone in Canadian Film comes through here and it’s a little intimidating.

While there I run into old friends I went to college with; all at different stages in their careers.

Sometimes sizing your success up against others can be overwhelming, but I discover that every choice they made was half chance, just like mine.  That some of them were more driven early on.  They found their time then and that’s all this is.

Is this my time?

All dressed up for the evening, my friend Ron and I join The Collective to attend the Grolsch Discovery Awards party at The Brant House, where TIFF Artistic Director Cameron Bailey presents the award to the winner: Rola Naschef and her film Detroit Unleaded.

This is her first film, and it’s a delight. (my review to come) As she accepts, I wonder:  When did she start to get this film in motion?  How many years?  How old is she?

The Collective interviews her, along with Ruba Nadda, the director of Inescapable.  It’s her second feature.

Sara is the interviewer, we are her crew.

Naschef’s story began when she made this as as a short in 2007.  After a long road, including a complicated surgery, she finally completed the feature, here in 2012.  TIFF’12 is the world premiere.

Sometimes the wait is long, but now is her time.

We leave and walk down King Street to The Spoke House. Upstairs is The Netflix Party and it’s time for drinks and bites too eat.

Everything has been free.  Did I mention that?  I’m broke, remember.

Again, alcohol relaxes me.  (Is it okay to admit this?)

I feel comfortable among these industry people,  slowly feeling like one of them.

A colleague makes a comment in the night.

“At a point I just realized that if I wanted to be a producer, all I had to do is keep calling myself a producer,” and adds: “Always say you have something in development.”

I HAVE something in development.  My upcoming short film (Health Class) will be shooting at the end of October.  I AM a screenwriter regardless of if I got paid or not.  They ask what you’ve written, but never how much you got paid.  Everyone in this industry has worked for nothing at some point.

My thinking was bull; now I should pretend.

I talk to people, mingle.  I tell them I’m a screenwriter and filmmaker.  I fool them.

I used to know what was my real and what was my pretend. The lines are blurring; what felt like pretend becomes real in my mind.  Did I fool myself?

Afterwards it’s just me and Rose trying to crash the German Film Party at Hotel Ocho.

We can’t get past the guest list, but then from the party upstairs a pretty blonde with a thick accent grabs my hand. I talked her up at the Netflix party.

She grabs me, I grab Rose.  The three of us arrive to party.

You know if you ask the bartender for water.  He gives you a bottle of Fiji.

For free.

No fooling.

TIFF’12 Review: Blancanieves

Already done twice this year, Blancanieves is a third retelling of the classic Grimm tale of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.  Director Pablo Bergerhas repurposed the film into Spain of the 1920’s, where Snow White (Macarena Garcia) must escape her evil step-mother to become a matador.

The daughter of Antonio Villalta (Daniel Gimenez Cacho), a world renown bullfighter, she was born amidst a double tragedy as her very mother fell into labour while witnessing her father being gored in the the arena.

In the hospital her father survived, but her mother did not.

Antonio recovers in the hospital under the watchful eye of the opportunistic Nurse Encarna (Pan Labyrinth’s Maribel Verdu).  She will eventually marry him, and deal with their new born daughter.

Berger’s film is a love story to silent cinema.  Mimicking the style, he tells the tale primarily through visuals, using only the most minimal of dialogue.

He treats the stylistic elements of the silent era as cinema’s own version of a fantasy land; one that existed “Once Upon a Time.”  Much of the film is carried on his love.

Berger treads very light, not attempting to let the real world setting weigh down on the classic fairy tale.  It’s a difficult task for sure, as Berger has removed all of the story’s fantastic elements.

Though Encarna is definitely evil, she is mortal and wields no magic.

The effect is delightful, but it isn’t without its few bumps.  Berger quickly rushes through aspects of the tale that don’t add up in the real world, but we don’t need to question in a magical one.  For instance: What is so appealing about Encarna that would make anyone want to marry her?

We’re given a few shots of her feeding Antonio back to health, but is that marriage material?

Black and white character archetypes work in the fantasy tale, but they too conflict with reality.  Encarna and her henchman are not given any redeeming qualities, and conversely Snow White can do no wrong.

How will the film deal with the dwarves?  Why as a traveling troupe of short matadors, of course!  It’s the film’s most absurd and preposterous moment, but also its most charming.

Here Berger makes his biggest changes to the tale, and for the better.  Snow brings out conflict among the troupe; not every dwarf has a heart of gold.  Berger also elevates a dwarf into a leading man, adding a wonderful warm hearted twist.

The plot plays out as you would anticipate; with Encarna being thwarted in deliciously satisfying terms, more so than even in Disney’s version.

But the greatest moments are saved for the film’s end.  Poisoned by the apple Snow White sleeps in a glass coffin where she is treated as a sideshow circus attraction.  Lines of men kiss her in the hopes that she will wake up.

The only loyal man however, is her handsome dwarf.

Berger leaves the film on a beautiful ambiguous and bittersweet note that, dare I say, improves upon the Grimms’ original.