General Idi Amin Dada: Autoportrait (1974) dir Barbet Schroeder
Documentary

***

By Blair Stewart

In 1974 a documentary crew including acclaimed filmmaker Barbet Schroeder and cameraman Nestor Almenderos went down to Uganda and recorded a murderous fool. Said fool was General Idi Amin, a man whose reign in his prosperous land cost thousands of lives while he mugged for the camera and waved at crocodiles he'd feed his enemies to.

As we are intially charmed by Amin's charismatic presence layers are unwound of Amin's true nature beyond the joviality, the touchstone of Forrest Whitaker's performance as Amin in "The Last King of Scotland". After being put into a position of military power by president Milton Obote (himself corrupt too, sadly) despite contrary proof of his competence, Idi ousted Obote in a coup d'etat and started kicking Uganda down a few notches. Along with unabashed cronism for his military buddies receiving government positions, Amin expelled Jews and Asians (80% of Uganda's wealth and trade) and culled his countrymen while making outlandish statements to the world. Before Amin went into forced exile, Schroeder won the documentarian lottery in sitting down with the dictator in 1974 for interviews and a staged highlight tour of the land.

As the interviewer asks about bizarre love letters to fellow world leaders and his anti-semitic stance based upon crackpot theories, the General laughs and jokes. The punchline was Uganda.

During these interviews, two crucial moments play out that sees beyond the facade of Amin. In one, we sit in on a cabinet meeting as Amin blathers on about his favorite subject, the importance of Ugandans loving him, when he accuses the Minister of Foreign Affairs of dissent. On the reaction shot of said Minister, Schroeder uses a freeze-frame to tell us this man will be killed within a fortnight. The effect on the viewer is no different than the Minister being executed right in his seat. In another passage Amin is lecturing Ugandan surgeons on profiteering amongst their ranks when a brave fellow representing the surgeons corrects him on who he should direct his concerns to. The expressions on the faces surrounding this man, along with the unsettling close-up of Amin listening, is ghoulish.

Barbet Schroeder has led a charmed life in cinema. Notable stateside for his critical and box office successes with "Reversal of Fortune" and "Single White Female", Schroeder had previously found international acclaim in the 1970's with the the Pink Floyd alligned "The Valley (Obscurred by Clouds)" and "More". He was a contemporary of the French New Wave directors as he has produced numerous works of Eric Rohmer, and now still finds time to act in films like "The Darjeeling Limited". His direction in "Idi Amin" is invisible outside of a few moments due to the control granted to his subject.

Unsurprisingly upon viewing an early cut of the documentary Amin had a group of French citizens in Uganda held hostage until Schroeder made changes to please the General. Only after Amin was run out of Uganda in 1979 did the film return to its correct version. Idi Amin spent his last days secluded in Saudi Arabia beyond justice, driving luxury cars and eating fast food. This film remains as meagre punishment.

RICHARD DONNER RETROSPECTIVE #1:
Lethal Weapon 3 (1992) dir. Richard Donner
Starring: Mel Gibson, Danny Glover, Joe Pesci, Rene Russo

***

By Reece Crothers

Editor’s Note: This is the first in a continuing series reflecting on the films of Richard Donner

LW3 opens on a high note with Gibson's Riggs volunteering himself, and his way-too-old-for-this-shit partner, Glover's Murtaugh, to stand in for the bomb squad at a downtown skyscraper where explosives have been discovered in the parking garage. Chaos swirls all around them as cops and firemen evacuate the building and the two stars bicker like the old married couple they have become in the five years since the first film, clearly having fun returning to their now signature roles. It's a funny scene and the explosion that follows is a real gem compared to the CG fare we are mostly weaned on these days. This is the kind of scene an ordinary action picture needs an hour and a half to build to, but with the previous Weapon pictures filling in for backstory, director Richard Donner and screenwriters Jeffrey Boam and Robert Mark Kamen, wisely cut to the chase, or the bomb as the case may be, knowing that this is everyday stuff for these two guys. And therein, also lies the problem. There isn't much we haven't already seen.

Like any marriage, Riggs and Murtaugh have settled into routine. Moments like Riggs’ assault of a disrespectful citizen by way of Three Stooges "bits" is no longer fresh, as it was in the first one, or cute, as it was in the second, it's expected, played-out. The character, like the actor, has started to lose his edge.

This period in Gibson's career produced the mediocrity of "Forever Young" (the cryogenics-themed romantic snoozer with Jamie Lee Curtis) and Gibson's mostly ignored directorial debut "The Man Without A Face". The movie-star good looks of "Year of Living Dangerously" faded into a kind of bland handsomeness. Murtaugh's lack of development is less detrimental. It's amazing the mileage the filmmakers have gotten out of the Walter Matthau approach to his grumpy detective character (look no further than the ironically titled "The Laughing Policeman" for Mathau's definitive take). We don't want more from Murtaugh. He's perfect as is. But Riggs' crazy, suicidal cop, the evolution of the Clint Eastwood/Dirty Harry model, the Riggs of Part One, who hand-cuffed himself to a would-be jumper and took both of them literally over the edge, who brushed his teeth with the barrel of gun, the crazy "lethal weapon" of the series' title (Remember the old poster? "Glover carries a lethal weapon. Gibson is one") is crazy no more. In fact he's ready to settle down, with series newcomer Rene Russo. The adrenaline junkie is in recovery. And reform is boring in movies. Russo and Gibson do have plenty of chemistry, though not exactly Hepburn and Tracy, they would co-star again in Ron Howard's "Ransom" (from a crackling Richard Price script) and in the fourth Weapon.

The real problem in the third outing is the total non-involvement of the original film's writer, Shane Black, one of those rare genre writers who manages a unique style and voice with stories that are often told and characters that we have seen many times before, somehow making them fresh and vital again, much in the way of Tarantino, who came later, but without the formal abstractions. Where Tarantino's ‘Pulp Fiction’ is heavily influenced by the structural experimentation of Godard, Black's anti-heroes are film-noir protagonists right out of the best of Chandler or Hammet. Only R-Rated. Imagine Humphrey Bogart's Phillip Marlowe with a dirty mouth and you might get something close to Bruce Willis' Detective Joe Hallenbeck in Black's "The Last Boy Scout", released the year previous to LW3. With the critical success of Black's 2005 directing debut "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang", hopefully he will be back to tell more of his own stories.

Here the writers are Jeffrey Boam, whose credits include ‘Lost Boys’, ‘Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade’, and the second Weapon picture, and Robert Mark Kamen, who wrote all four of the original "Karate Kid" pictures and is now Luc Besson's in-house American, responsible for the "Transporter" series, the hit "Taken", and, as the story goes, the man we can thank for rewriting Besson's "Leon/The Professional" (which originally had the 13 year old in a sexual relationship with her hit man "guardian"). Boam and Kamen are solid genre craftsmen but they can't touch Black for dialogue, or edge.

On the plus side, Joe Pesci is back as Leo Getz and Donner keeps everything moving at a lightning quick pace. The stunts are great, the villain passable (Stuart Wilson is not the most exciting actor but his dirty cop character is sufficiently nasty, though the role was apparently offered to De Niro which would have been more fun). It doesn't break any new ground but the formula works, and for fans of the series, part three delivers on almost all expectations.

Winter’s Bone (2010) dir. Debra Granik
Starring: Jennifer Lawrence, John Hawkes, Lauren Sweetser, Kevin Breznahan

****

By Matt McUsic

In 2004 Debra Granik won the Sundance Directors award for Down To The Bone. She returns to Sundance in 2010 with a masterwork that slowly lures in an unsuspecting audience, taking them on a harrowing tale through the Ozark methlab underworld. Ree (Jennifer Lawrence) is simultaneously a fish out of a water and an unwilling insider by blood in the impoverished hillbilly organized crime scene. If you think Mafia movies are scary, try toothless, tattooed greasers who have truly nothing to loose by killing you. Such is the lot Ree is forced to deal with when she finds out her missing Father has put the family home up for bond and now risks repossession if he doesn’t show for his court date. Already on edge having to raise her younger brother and sister, Ree is forced to find her Father within a week or prove that he is dead.


The characters may sound cliché on paper, but Winter’s Bone is so genuine in mood and dialogue that we completely accept this world and the drama that enfolds within it. We sit on the edge of our seats enraptured as Ree tries every conceivable avenue to find her Father in his diabolical circle of “friends”. In a deeply patriarchal world with a barbaric code of conduct the stubborn Ree is in over her head from the very start, and knows it. But she’s a woman on a mission to save her family, and so Daniel Woodrell’s story has set up a complex character that must overcome her fears if she is to prevail.

Jennifer Lawrence’s portrayal of Ree is the stuff of indie-oscar material and reminded many at the festival of Melissa Leo’s tour-de-force performance in Frozen River. But it’s John Hawkes who steals the show as Ree’s Father’s brother, Teardrop. His intensity and dark-charisma on screen is mesmerizing and unpredictable. Debra Granik keeps the string tight, maintaining the suspense with enough plot while taking advantage of every opportunity to infuse the film’s world with rich detail. Music, cinematography, location (filmed in Missouri) and writing all work together under an auteur’s unifying hand. The result is a focused, deeply layered piece of cinema that will leave you hungry for the next Debra Granik journey.

By Matt Reid

Hey everyone, it’s time for 2009’s Top 10 list…and only two weeks late (better than last year’s end-of-January list). To recap, I started this a couple years ago and people seem to enjoy getting it every year (based on the comments I get, such as ‘you are an idiot – you have terrible taste’), so I guess I’ll keep offering up my unsolicited opinions …

A big question I often get is ‘how do you find time for so much TV?’ I guess a more accurate name for this list would be Matt’s TV 2009 (dropping the Top 10) since the only shows I watch are the ones listed below (if a show is not keeping me interested, I stop watching). Plus a New Year’s resolution that Beth & I have to read more and watch less TV may make next year’s a Top 3 list…

Also, the usual disclaimer: these shows are ones that I (personally) watched in 2009 (and since I don’t have pay TV, some shows (e.g. Dexter) won’t be watched until this year on DVD)

First, the sub-categories:

As an avid-Anti Reality Show person, the three ones I actually do watch: The Amazing Race (still enjoyable), Survivor (Russell made it exciting again), Top Chef (mmmmm)

Shows that I used to enjoy but find truly unbearable now: Scrubs, Weeds, Heroes, SNL, Flash Forward (bonus points: this last one only took half a season!)

Honourable mention: Castle (fun guilty pleasure) Big Bang Theory (consistently funny), Office (still good but not what it once was), Rick Mercer Report & Dragon’s Den (these two are proof that my tax dollars can still churn out something worth watching)
Shows that are waiting for me on DVD so they can make next years’ list: Dexter (yes, I’m a little behind), The Wire (I know, I know, it’s the best show ever), Rome

And the Top 10 for this year:

10. How I Met Your Mother

I often hear ‘but it has a laugh track’…..when you generate this many laughs, even I can overlook that. This is more than just a means to an end (who even cares who the mother is); it’s an entertaining look at a group of friends growing up in New York City. A solid cast led Neil Patrick Harris plus writing that rewards loyal viewing puts this on the list for the second year in a row

9. Better Off Ted

I’ll be pretty surprised if anyone reading this watches this show – the ratings are horrific (so it is probably two weeks away from cancellation). From the gifted comedy mind behind Andy Richter Controls the Universe (the cult show that I enjoyed watching again on DVD this summer), it’s a great send-up of corporate culture at a large U.S. conglomerate. Solid performances led my Portia DeRossi (who proved she could do killer comedy in Arrested Development) and sharp writing make this one a winner.

8. Glee

A show unlike any other: completely over-the-top but never playing it safe. One of the most buzzed about shows of the fall, it’s got music (showcasing the power of great pop songs), comedy (Jane Lynch is top-notch), and drama (the reality of wanting to belong in high school). The show misses sometimes (pregnancy storylines, another ‘Glee club is doomed’ story) but it’s so nice to see a show try something different that it can be forgiven for those sins. I’m looking forward to the shows return….unfortunately, not until April

7. Friday Night Lights

Thanks to the investment by DirecTV, this low rated but critically loved show received a third season (and the fourth is on its way to NBC this spring/summer). One of the best depictions of small-town USA life, it is anchored by the top notch performances of Kyle Chandler and Connie Britton. There’s been some turnover in the show’s young cast, but that only further adds to the realism of the show (people do go away to college, you know). A show with heart, humour and drama.

6. Fringe

A show from last year’s ‘Futures Pick’ list, it has become the next great sci-fi show. Whether the episode is part of the overall show arc/mythology or simply a creepy, self-contained episode, I find myself consistently enjoying it every week (and making in one of my first PVR playbacks from Thursday night). John Noble is brilliant as the eccentric Walter but the entire cast gives solid performances. Complex but not too myth-heavy, a show that has really hit its stride in its second season.

5. 30 Rock

Still one of the top laugh providers on my weekly TV schedule, Alec Baldwin and Tina Fey really deliver. With a tone that veers from biting satire to absurd over-the-top humour, this show has introduced phrases such as ‘Shark Farts’ and ’I Want to go to There’ to my vocabulary (which no doubt makes me seem weird to people who don’t watch the show). As someone who works for NBC-Universal, I’m interested to see if the show incorporates the sale by GE into the plot this year….

4. Modern Family

What a gem: the last comedy I remember arriving of the scene this fully formed was a little show called Arrested Development. Modern Family combines a snarky/sarcastic sense of humour with a good dose of heart (but not too sweet) for the fall’s best new show. The cast is solid overall, but early standouts include Ty Burrell as clueless dad Phil and Eric Stonestreet as son-in-law Cameron.

3. Breaking Bad

Bryan Cranston (who won his second Emmy in a row for this show) anchors this complex, darkly humorous and tragic look into the life of a man dying of cancer and the lengths he goes to to provide for his family. Finally getting a full season (Season 1 was cut short due to the writers strike) we became immersed in this world and, at season’s end, were left wondering where the web of deceit will take us next year.

2. Lost

Down from #1 last year but fully expected to regain that title for next year as we head into the final season. Definitely a more sci-fi heavy season last year but still unbelievably executed with amazing acting, writing and directing. The cliff hanger ending has only left us fans salivating in anticipation of the Final Season Premiere in just 3 weeks! Will the final episode satisfy everyone? Most likely not, but I’m just glad we’ve all been taken along on this exhilarating ride.

1. Mad Men

The jockeying between this and Lost for the #1 show seems to alternate in the last few years, but this year Mad Men was the show I found myself most looking forward to once the current week’s episode had ended. As Don Draper is finally forced to confront some issues he had so easily avoided before, the acting by Jon Hamm was second to none. January Jones and the rest of the cast also chipped in top notch performances and Matthew Weiner and his writing team delivered great drama against a historical backdrop. The season finale reset all the pieces and I already can’t wait for Season 4….

The Room (2003) dir. Tommy Wiseau
Starring: Tommy Wiseau, Juliette Danielle and Gregory Sistero

* or **** (see for yourself why)

By Blair Stewart

When I first started working in film I befriended a nice, honest, dedicated and extremely milquetoast co-worker. Forging a minor alliance that I would refer to as an "acquaintanceship" and he a "friendship", the co-worker handed me his screenplay that would be his own ship to success. He told me it was a romance and he wanted my opinion. It had an awful title for starters.

Me: How would you describe the lead role?

Him: Sarah Michelle Geller.

Me: Like Sarah Michelle Geller?

Him: Sarah Michelle Geller, she's the perfect girl. I wrote it only for her. I'll play the lead and direct, that why I took two years of acting lessons.

Me: Oh, good stuff.

The 'script' was 100 pages of flat dialogue, non-action, a dearth of subtext and for a 'romance', a pox on lust, sex or insight into what it is to love or be loved. (As a fellow Movie-Dork-Virgin-Cliche, I wasn't one to talk either) It took place in Edmonton and unless you're making a Guy Maddin rip-off or another "Road Warrior" no film should ever take place there, ever-ever-ever. I was blunt and my involvement with the script ended there, despite my hope his fortunes have improved.

The reason I bring this up is writer/director/lead actor Tommy Wiseau and his opus "The Room" reminds me a great deal of my buddy's lousy script. Both of them had their hearts in the right place. Both of these gents should be commended for putting in a mighty effort on a personal project and both bravely put that private passion out in the world to be seen. Both of them also lacked basic cinematic talent and understanding. The similarities end though between the co-worker and Mr.Wiseau on two vital fronts: Tommy Wiseau had $6 million dollars in private finance. And Sweet Jesus if he didn't make his film.

A fast-spawning cultural phenomenon with midnight screenings around the globe, "The Room" stands as a wonderment of inepititude and rueful audience laughter. Shot simultaneously on 35mm and digital because no one knew better, "The Room" is Wiseau's stab at a Tennessee Williams/Kazan/Brando bravura achievement. Taking place in San Francisco with a lion's share of Golden Gate Bridge cutaways and dodgy CGI backdrops of the city, poor sap Johnny(Wiseau) is the fiance of the witchly Lisa(Juliette Danielle) who's having an affair with his Zen bread-loaf of a best friend Mark(Greg "Sistsoterone" Sistero). All is well and good for a mediocre film plot but several additional elements send this lil' rocket into the Crazy Stratosphere. Firstly, the chipper man-child orphan Denny(Philip Haldiman) shows up at wildly inappropriate places leading to the classic line: "Denny, two is great, but three is a crowd".

Then you have Lisa's shrewish mother Claudette(Carolyn Minnott) casually mentioning she's contracted life-threatening diseases which are shrugged off by the rest of the uncaring cast. Strangers will arrive late into the plot and offer opinions on the doomed relationship or just have sex in Johnny's house, leading savvy "Room" crowds to shout at the screen "Who the fuck are you?". Rose pedals are strewn everywhere, footballs are awkwardly tossed around and in several queasy Cinemax sex scenes, stomachs are graphically trusted into again and again and again. At the center of this Schadenfreude buffet is the theme 'Woman are crazy and shouldn't be trusted', which is hammered home by the tragically bipolar Lisa like a vengeful Britney Spears on a PCP binge.

Once again this would all make for a memorable rental if it wasn't for the master touch to rank alongside the likes of Ed Wood and Uwe Boll: The legendary Tommy Wiseau himself.

Sporting a preposterous tone-deaf eastern-bloc accent with thrash-metal raven locks and a dark-side-of-the-moon face, Wiseau resembles a henchman Bruce Willis knocks off in the first 3rd of a "Die Hard" instead of the soulful Everyman required. His Johnny is prone to questionable bouts of laughter during tales of spousal abuse and bleats repetitive blood oaths of fidelity and companionship to those around him. When Tommy indulges in his 'big actor's moment' a la "Stella!" or "You're tearing me apart!", the buried corpses of Marlon Brando and James Dean are attacked by ravenous hedgehogs as karmic retribution. If the unintentional comedy of "The Room" was indeed intended Wiseau would be a subversive genius far exceeding that of Andy Kaufman or Sacha Baron Cohen. Sadly "The Room" is not, but the awesome glee it brings out in a packed crowd of fans is a sight to behold.

A must-see for those who haven't seen it, and a must-see for those already familiar with the words of Mark the Best Friend: "Oh man, I just can't figure women out. Sometimes they're just too smart. Sometimes they're flat-out stupid. Other times they're just evil."

This is a keeper, folks.

PS-After its release in LA in 2003, a billboard ad paid by Wiseau for "The Room" compared it to the works of Tennessee Williams. Tennessee was misspelled on the billboard.

Paranormal Activity (2007/2009) dir. Oren Peli
Starring: Katie Featherston, Micah Sloat and Mark Fredrichs

****

By Greg Klymkiw

Any and all clichés one could utilize to describe the overall effect of this magnificently directed, utterly extraordinary and near-perfect no-budget horror movie would be apt – it’s heart-stopping, nerve-jangling and pulse-pounding. More than suitable descriptions, one and all, but in some ways a disservice to use because “Paranormal Activity” is such an exquisitely rendered creep-fest that any superlatives it deserves (clichéd or not), will ultimately pale in comparison to the experience of bearing witness to what unfolds. There is also the fear that as much as one wants people to see it, any overwrought praise has the ability to set up the sort of high expectations that no picture could ever live up to.

Well, let it be said that I had absolutely NO expectations.

As per usual, I managed, in advance of seeing the picture, to avoid reading all reviews. No puff pieces for this fella, either, since I can’t stomach reading them anyway. I partook of no trailers, nor any of the usual hype used to hawk movies. All I knew going in was the title. Knowing even that, I assumed it would be a horror movie, and, being a rabid fan of the likes of late-night radio stars Art Bell and George Noory of “Coast-to-Coast” fame, I furthermore suspected the picture would be dealing with one of my favourite subjects in horror movies – paranormal activities, of course; those forces in the universe that are received with as much scepticism as profound belief.

With no expectations or knowledge, I sat back and let it happen.

And happen, it most certainly did.

On the surface, the picture falls into the shaky-video-cam thriller mockumentary tradition of “The Blair Witch Project”, “Cloverfield” and “Quarantine”. It blows all of them into near oblivion – not because there’s anything profoundly original about “Paranormal Activity” (well. there is, actually - more on this later), but because it’s endowed with the sort of relentless, obsessive quality one might find in the very best horror thrillers and feels less machine-tooled than the aforementioned.

It’s also just plain scary - something that I never really felt about the mock thrills within the trio cited above; due, I suspect, to the feeling that I could feel the hands of the filmmakers at work just a little too obviously.

“Paranormal Activity” elicits the sort of unexpected explosions of fear-induced fecal matter into my undies that all great horror films wrench out of you because writer-director Oren Peli creates mounting dread by avoiding so many of the trademarks of the shaky-cam genre. Number one, it is not overwrought – at least not all the way through and ONLY when it needs to be. Secondly, the performances are fresh and naturalistic. The attractive leads seem like any normal young couple flung into a situation that is clearly out of their realm of experience. Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, the shaky-cam is actually not all that shaky. In fact, it’s mostly very, very still. Locked off in tableau for a good portion of the picture, the camera is a silent witness to some of the most horrifying images I have yet to experience (which takes some doing since about 1/3 of the over 30,000 titles I've seen in my life are affiliated with genres devoted to terror). There’s no blood – not too much, anyway: there’s no elaborate, over-the-top digital effects and there are no cheap shocks (well…maybe just a few, but – Goddamn! – if they aren’t effective).

While we are presented with the terror in the familiar stillness and darkness of night, the manner in which many of the scares are delivered are rooted in an approach that is less common in this age of torture pornography masquerading as horror. And it is the stillnes that resonates most profoundly in the picture. This is the stuff of most of the nightmares that haunt us.

It is a terror of the creepiest kind and as such, comes far closer to the work of Val Lewton and/or William Friedkin by way of Jim McBride’s legendary mockumentary “David Holzman’s Diary”.

Lewton was the legendary producer and head of the RKO horror unit in the 40s where he created a series of brilliant works like “The Cat People”, “I Walked With A Zombie” and a handful of other creepy pictures that not only revolutionized how horror films were made, but still work in a current context - mainly for their adherence to finding terror in ordinary, (and mostly) contemporary situations touched by some form of psychic or psychological malevolence. As well, Lewton's pictures discovered utter horror in what is NOT seen – stillness, quiet, shadow, darkness and obsession. These are the real monsters in Lewton’s work. “Paranormal Activity” is replete with these attributes.

Friedkin’s “The Exorcist” battered us with the most horrendous, extreme images that still shock to this very day – yet the reason they shock is that they are framed in the clinical detail of how Regan, the devil-possessed child, is run through a battery of painful and intrusive tests and, most importantly, how the horror is rooted in the lives and locale of normal people. “Paranormal Activity” has a clinical precision in the obsessive detailing of every moment of the lives of the central figures and it is terrifying.

If the abovementioned were then filtered through the birthplace of the mockumentary, Jim McBride’s 1967 “David Holzman’s Diary”, an obsessively grainy vérité look at the psychological disintegration of a man who uses a camera to chart his descent into madness, one would come very close to experiencing the brilliant, visceral terror of “Paranormal Activity”.

Following 20 days in the lives of a seemingly normal man and woman trying to videotape and live with the horrible entities threatening the woman’s sanity and eventually, both their lives, “Paranormal Activity” draws from well-honoured cinematic traditions and manages to go its own unique way. In fact, it is the normal people and locales in this picture that make us squirm whenever night falls and the camera just sits there – a quiet observer of the mounting horror. These are normal people in an extraordinary situation who are recording the strange events in their lives.

“Paranormal Activity” is a clever variation on pinching oneself to confirm that either there is nothing to worry about or, in the worst case, that it’s not a dream. And if it’s not a dream, the only solace our characters (and we, the audience) can take is that the central figures (and by extension, us) are not completely out of our minds. Unfortunately, what befalls the two main characters is so terrifying that insanity, or death would be better than having to live yet another night – face to face with evil incarnate.

This is a movie that demands being experienced on a big screen. It takes the home movie aesthetic and swallows us whole. The very essence of a big-screen experience is what envelopes and virtually consumes us. Every small, subtle and horrific detail explodes in our faces with the kind of power and force that big-screen features are meant to do. Subsequent small screen viewings will also prove interesting, especially when the alternate “first version” (without the reworked and decidedly kick-ass “theatrical” conclusion) is also watched – but only AFTER seeing it theatrically.

“Paranormal Activity” is a corker of a horror film. Another cliché for your edification, but one that is perfectly appropriate. One leaves the theatre drained, quiet, and alternately contemplative and stunned.

It’s the magic of movies, and for that, I am most grateful.

The September Issue (2009) dir. R.J. Cutler
Documentary

**

By Reece Crothers

The September Issue is a satisfying bit of fluff, a light, digestible entertainment. It is not the behind the scenes expose one hopes for considering the poster's promises that this movie "does for fashion what The War Room did for politics". There is nothing here we don't already know from The Devil Wears Prada. We do not get to peer behind the mask of Anna Wintour, the notoriously icy matriarch of the Vogue magazine empire, and there is less insight into her person here than in Meryl Streep's portrayal of her in the Prada film. Neither are we privy to the Devil-ish side to Wintour, who is always composed, detached, almost bored. Her face rarely forms into anything you might call an expression. On the rare occasions when she does smile, it is as if the muscles of her mouth have lead a revolt against the rest of her face. The one bit of revealing portraiture comes from Anna's admission that her family finds her work "amusing" which is to say, not very important, a point driven home later in the film by Wintour's Ivy-league-bound daughter who says matter-of-factly that she doesn't take her Mother's job very seriously, has no interest in following her footsteps at the magazine, and instead wants to be a lawyer like her dad. If we look closely we see a flash of the injured Wintour before she shrinks back into her fur-coat cocoon.

I wish the filmmaker took Wintour a little more seriously, too. The film is all too comfortable playing it cute with a pop music soundtrack that makes it feel like we're just watching a really long episode of Fashion Television. Like the magazine itself, it's glossy, vibrant, beautiful to look at, but not very profound. When we want to take it seriously as art we instead are treated to bitchy, superficial moments like the editors hovering over proofs of September's cover girl Sienna Miller, complaining about her teeth or that her hair is "lacklustre". In moments like these, it doesn't feel like art, it just feels catty. I mean, Sienna Miller is lacklustre? Really? Did they see Layer Cake?

The redeeming element here is the secondary portrait of Grace Coddington, Creative Director of American Vogue, who seems to wield every bit as much power and influence as Wintour does at the magazine. Grace is fiercely talented, funny, and prickly. Her love-hate relationship with Wintour, as she struggles to keep her favourite pieces from getting edited out of the tent-pole September issue, is the heart of the movie, as she is the only one who will (or maybe can) stand up to Wintour. Grace is an odd-looking figure when we first meet her, a stark-contrast to Wintour, pale and thin with a wild main of orange hair. She began her career as a model, a trajectory that was interrupted by a car crash, and she evolved into the industry's greatest stylist. As Wintour herself puts it, "No one can do what Grace does." After seeing her incredible designs on display in Cutler's movie, I'm inclined not to think of Wintour's praise as hyperbole. Grace lends the picture much warmth, humour and character.

There are plenty of other "characters" that show up to bow down to queen Wintour, or bitch behind her back, and some are wonderful to watch and to listen to, none more so than Andre Leon Talley, who is runway-perfect even while playing tennis. The footage of Talley sweating through his mandatory tennis practice ("Anna says I have to lose weight", he tells us matter-of-factly) is one of the picture's high points, a truly likable guy who comes off like a gay, black, John Candy as he comically struggles to keep up with his instructor. We don't know if its a bit of cruelty or compassion at the root of this imposed exercise Wintour has doled out to the hefty Talley, and the answer is probably a bit of both. Whenever Talley shows up the picture is a little more vibrant. Someone should give him a reality show while they're handing those out.

At the end of the day, The September Issue has more cultural weight as a magazine than a movie and I prefer the Meryl Streep version. And for an art film with fashion at its core, I would recommend the equally fluffy, but much underrated Robert Altman picture, "Pret A Porter". This doc just didn't have enough of the devil, and come to think of it, there wasn't much prada either.

"The September Issue" opens in theatres in limited release in Canada by E1 Entertainment

Slovenian Girl – Slovenka (2009) Dir. Damjan Kozole
Starring: Nina Ivanishin

***1/2

Mall Girls – Galerianki (2009) Dir. Katarzyna Roslaniec
Starring: Anna Karczmarczyk

***

Guest Review By Greg Klymkiw

The most alarming trend in Eastern Europe since the fall of Communism has been the sexual exploitation of women. In spite of the promise of a new life through capitalism and the free market, pretty much all of these countries have suffered a drastic rise in poverty and homelessness. Add to the mix an Old World patriarchy that remains entrenched in Slavic cultures, a veritable explosion of organized crime and an increasing demand for sexual services – life for many young women has become desperate, cheap and dangerous. The combination of basic needs not being met and an ever-multiplying Western-styled consumerism creeping into the consciousness of the people through advertising has meant a rise in women either choosing to be prostitutes, or worse (as so expertly detailed in investigative journalist Victor Malarek’s shocking book “The Natashas”), women are duped and/or kidnapped and subsequently forced into prostitution. One million women per year from Eastern Europe disappear and are sold into sexual slavery.

The 2009 film festival circuit sees the release of two motion pictures that look at various aspects of women in the sex trade – both made in former Communist countries.

“Slovenian Girl (Slovenka)” is a Croatian-German-Slovenian-Serbian co-production directed by Damjan Kozole and is a resolutely grim, haunting, beautifully crafted and powerfully acted story of a young woman from a small Slovenian town who lives in Ljubljana, seeking to finish her education and better herself by working as an independent escort. Aleksandra ( Nina Ivanishin) studies English and is enrolled at university. She has purchased a luxurious apartment with an exquisite view and to all who know her; she is a smart, savvy young woman who is grabbing the dream of a new capitalist world. Alas, she lives a lonely, haunted existence – hiding her source of income from everyone close to her. Working as an independent escort, she hits several major roadblocks – a foreign politician dies in her room from a stroke spurred on by a Viagra overdose, the police are actively seeking her, a group of vicious thugs/pimps are trying to force her into sexual slavery and she’s desperately behind in her mortgage payments since she is trying to juggle an academic life, family responsibilities and her life as a call girl. She is so beleaguered that she finds it impossible to make enough money.

Leading lady Nina Ivanishin is a real treasure. With her long, dark straight tresses and a face that strives to betray little emotion in the realm of adversity (save for the terror she experiences and expresses at the hands of the pimps when her veneer falls apart), Ivanishin delivers a moving and groundbreaking performance. If the Gods are smiling on this actress, she might well become a big international star. She is definitely one of many reasons to see this remarkable film.

Director Kozole creates a stunning mise-en-scene – delivering image after image that seems to have much of the colour drained from it. Whether it is the dull greys of the exteriors or the tungsten and/or fluorescent lights of the interiors, there is rich detail within every shot – creating a world that bristles with reality, but does so without the almost de-rigueur grainy, handheld shaky-cam. He has a classical style that is subtle in its subversion.

This is a heart-breaking movie that creates a world where for people like Aleksandra, the only choice, the only hope for a better life is to sell her sexuality. In spite of this, there are no traditional patriarchal judgements forced on her character, her choices or the story itself. In fact, that Aleksandra actually makes a choice and struggles (no matter how unsuccessfully) is one of the reasons the picture is so moving. She controls her destiny, even though it means she must shut herself down – almost machine-like – when she is either with clients or when she is hiding her secret life from those around her.

“Mall Girls”, a Polish film by director Katarzyna Roslaniec, is a terrific companion piece to “Slovenian Girl”. Focusing upon the lives of several poor 14-year-old girls, it is an exquisitely directed piece of filmmaking. Using a swirling, occasionally jittery camera and settings that offer stunning contrasts between the colour-dappled world of the mall where the girls find true happiness and the dank hallways and scuzzy, cramped apartments in housing projects where the grime and poverty ache with despair, Roslaniec creates a visual palate that reflects the dichotomous lives of the girls – both the dreams (the mall, consumerism and easy money) and the realities (squalid homes where physical abuse and poverty run rampant, cramped classrooms presided over by frustrated teachers and sordid backdrops for all manner of sexual activity). Add to this the extraordinary, fresh performances of all the young actors and one has a film that could have well been perfect.

What betrays this perfection is a screenplay that unfortunately veers into territory that’s too expected, too simple and finally much too convenient. Worse yet, the story rushes to a conclusion that strains the credibility the film garners in its first two-thirds. That said, Roslaniec ends the film with such a daring and evocative final shot, that one could almost forgive the script’s eventual deficiencies in its last act.

Another element that works beautifully however, is how the script, direction and performances exquisitely capture the contrasts in these girls’ lives between their burgeoning sexuality and their willingness to risk it all for emotionless, loveless sex in exchange for money and other favours. Roslaniec and the script also render the public school peer pressure and the various rollercoaster-like emotional rides the movie both reflects and takes us on.

“Slovenian Girl” and “Mall Girls” are touching and tragic portraits of how womanhood in Eastern Europe is being assaulted, perverted and exploited in a society and culture so full of promise, yet bitterly offering only despair and easy ways to make poor and often tragic choices.

Triage (2009) Dir. Danis Tanovic
Starring: Colin Farrell, Paz Vega, Branko Djuric, Jamie Sives and Christopher Lee

*1/2

Guest Review By Greg Klymkiw

During the first thirty minutes of “Triage”, one is convinced the movie is going to be good – maybe even great. Based upon the novel by Scott Anderson, the screenplay is adapted by its director Danis Tanovic, the talented Bosnian filmmaker who previously delivered the powerful multi-award-and-Oscar-winning “No Man’s Land”.

Alas, all the film’s early promise dissipates when the narrative takes a fatal turn and the movie never recovers. The first problem is that it does not take the expected direction, which would have been entertaining, and even harrowing, but one can accept that the storytellers wished to move in a completely different and less conventional direction. This is all well and good, but the direction the story moves in is not only un-engaging, it offers the audience a dull perspective and ruins everything that MIGHT have been involving and arresting about the picture.

This really is too bad, because the first part of “Triage” is supremely gripping. Longtime friends and photojournalist partners Mark (Colin Farrell) and David (Jamie Sives) dive head first into the war-enflamed killing fields of Kurdistan, leaving their gorgeous wives behind on the home front. Both ladies, Elena (Paz Vega) and the pregnant Diane (Kelly Reilly) are understandably worried, but are also extremely supportive of their husbands’ talent and drive to capture the sickening realities of war for the world to see. Once in Kurdistan, the two men find themselves in a triage unit where a makeshift hospital has been set up in caves and tents. Presided over by Dr. Taizani (a great performance by Branko Djuric), the photographers are shocked at how the Doctor uses yellow and blue tags to respectively decide which wounded soldiers will receive treatment and which ones are too far-gone. The latter soldiers are mercy-killed with a bullet to the head – delivered by the Doctor himself. David has had quite enough and decides he’d rather be with his pregnant wife, so he leaves the zealous, photo-hungry Mark behind. The Kurds continue offensives against the Iraqis and Mark is badly wounded, but the Doctor awards him with a yellow tag, declaring him treatable. Mark and the Doctor strike up a close bond, but soon, it is obvious that Mark needs to return home to heal properly. And so he does.

So far, so good, but here is where the picture takes a major dive in the toilet.

When Mark is comfortably ensconced with his insanely beautiful sex kitten wifey, he is informed that David has not yet returned. Haunted by horrific dreams, Mark’s wounded legs give out completely. When his paralysis is deemed psychosomatic, Elena calls upon her estranged psychiatrist grandfather Joaquin (Christopher Lee) to heal hubby.

The rest of the movie is taken up with psychoanalysis, Mark whining, the ladies worrying and the mystery of David’s disappearance. Occasionally, the probing of the shrink (a very entertaining bit of thesping from Christopher Lee) wakes the audience up when Mark is forced to relive – via handy dandy flashbacks, a handful of war atrocities he has previously covered.

One might have been able to forgive this dull turn of events if the expected – albeit conventional dénouement had been Mark’s cure and a kick-ass “Deer Hunter” or “Rambo” styled trip back to Kurdistan to rescue David.

This does not happen. Instead, the movie builds to the inevitable revelation that David died and that Mark was responsible. Don’t get angry. This is not a spoiler. This revelation is so bone-headedly predictable after the first half-hour that one dismisses it outright as a possible story direction. When it happens, the groans of disappointment are palpable.

Even if the filmmakers had maintained this dullsville direction, the movie could have been saved if they hadn’t committed the biggest storytelling mistake – that is to keep this information as some sort of secret. If it had been revealed early on, we might have been able to engage emotionally with Mark’s character and Colin Farrell’s excellent performance would not have been scuttled. Mark’s struggles would have made far more narrative sense, but all we’re left with is the story of a whining loser photojournalist.

What this picture needed, finally, was a little cinematic triage during the development stage and maybe some of the mistakes it makes would have been more adequately addressed. Never fear, however, now that you know the “surprise” ending, which really comes as no surprise, you might actually be able to appreciate the story and Colin Farrell’s performance a lot more.

Thank Heaven for small mercies!

“Triage” is playing at the Toronto International Film Festival and will be released theatrically by E1 Entertainment.