Oh, Canadá

It's bad enough when a film disappoints and doesn't live up to expectations. But what's perhaps worse is when a picture not only fails to live up to expectations, but also validates the negative reputation that precedes it. Such is the case, regrettably, with the latest feature from filmmaker Paul Schrader, an embarrassingly bad production from an artist who has written and/or directed such masterful works as "First Reformed" (2017), "American Gigolo" (1980), "Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters" (1985), "The Last Temptation of Christ" (1988) and "Taxi Driver" (1976). This miserably unfocused slog struggles to tell the story of Leonard Fife (Richard Gere), a famous but terminally ill director who's being interviewed for a made-for-TV biography discussing his legendary life and career as a revered documentary filmmaker. However, the protagonist doesn't see this so much as a congratulatory tribute to his accomplishments but as a cathartic, unburdening confession about the life he led that virtually no one knows anything about. To complicate matters, his rapidly failing health and cloudy memory keep him from fulfilling this objective, especially when he reveals secrets about himself not known by even those closest to him (most notably, his wife, Emma (Uma Thurman), and his protégé, Malcolm (Michael Imperioli), director of the biography), revelations that they're quick to attribute to faulty recall. Leonard's previously hidden back story comes to life through a series of clumsy, disjointed flashbacks featuring his younger self (Jacob Elordi) presented in a largely unintelligible fashion that brings new meaning to the term "nonlinear." What's worse, though, is that the relevance of these admissions largely goes unexplained and unresolved, bearing seemingly little relation to the nature of his character or his career as an auteur. His flight to Canada and experience as a conscientious objector during the Vietnam War, for example, receives surprisingly little attention given that his defection from the US is essentially responsible for what made his vocation as a filmmaker possible. Then there are snippets from his many passing dalliances with women that make for a story more like "Oh! Calcutta!" than "Oh, Canada." Taken together, these elements make for a hodgepodge of moments from a life undefined, one that viewers are likely to care little about in the end. Such work is highly uncharacteristic for an artist like Schrader, which makes the impression it leaves all the more worse. Whatever the director was going for here, it's not particularly clear. And that's too bad, given that the filmmaker appears to have had plenty of good material and resources to work with here, including a cast of players who turn in some of their best-ever on-screen performances, the dreadful script that they've been handed notwithstanding. For what it's worth, the result is a major disappointment, one that exceeds the negative impressions it has already left on so many movie lovers who expect more from a talent like this.

I watched this at Cannes, at the film's premiere.

OH, CANADA is a highly original film by one of the masters of cinema, a real work of art. The film is beautifully made with a strong visual look. It features beautiful cinematography and great production design. The acting is strong, especially Richard Gere who plays the protagonist. He gives a terrific and memorable performance in the vein of Jack Nicholson in FIVE EASY PIECES- a complicated, not always likable but compelling character.

It may not be everyone's cup of tea but I think it is one of Paul Schrader's greatest achievements, and a gift to cinema lovers. Recommended.

A movie about a selfish, fictionalised, elderly, frail, ill and once-heralded documentary filmmaker (played by Richard Gere), whose docs seem to have been all but forgotten bar the aficionados, agrees to an all-day interview to recount his life and career, and which the producer pitches as a means to re-establish his credentials for a new generation.

Sadly, it's nothing more than an ego trip for Gere, perhaps hoping this film will get him an Oscar nomination, which is risible given he can't act and is the same bland baloney sandwich in everything. Uma Thurman plays his wife and supposed muse but she has so little to do and say with such a two-dimensional character, it's inexplicable why she even bothered to do this. The same can be said of Michael Imperioli's role, and all those of All the other characters - they're nothing but shadows: no depth or complexity or shine.

Worse, the ploddingly insipid-sounding songs (reminiscent of Nick Drake but with none of the talent) as scene music/ambience are as dull as the script - or rather, the "pretentious literary drivel" as the filmmaker once accurately remarks of his own pathetic, early and failed attempt at being a novelist - and the tiresome, vacuous flashback scenes all pile one atop another to hammer home the same banal point: that Gere's character is utterly selfish, feckless and incredibly dull. Why anyone of the women in his life ever wanted to sleep with him, or spend time with him, is as incomprehensible as why anybody would want to speak with such a bland blancmange of a personality.

Unless you're looking for a cure for insomnia, or a good reason to throw/shout something at your screen while watching this, save yourself six hours of your life - ok, so it's 90 mins -but it Feels like six - and do something more meaningful instead, like watch Pity (2018), the brilliant foreign film by Babis Makridis.

Richard Gere is a respected maker of hard-hitting, muckraking documentary films. He works with his wife and producer, Uma Thurman. Many years ago he fled from the United States in protest over the Viet Nam War. Now it is 2023, he is dying, and several students of his are making a documentary, interviewing him over the protests and under the watchful eye of his producer and wife, Uma Thurman.

Schrader is a careful writer, and there are several ways to interpret this movie. Certain critics have called it "autobiographical" because they are so intellectually lazy that they can't be bothered to think more than one thought before they give up. There may be autobiographical points to this movie. Certainly the movie reflect Schraeder's opinions, rather, than say, a panda bear's, or those of a large lump of rock scraped down from the Laurentian Shield into the terminal morrain of Long Island. That, I believe, doesn't make it autobiographical, nor does the fact that the guy is a film maker. There are film makers and film makers. Even though Gere and the folks making the film-within-the-film want to make a sensational film no matter what the cost, Miss Thurman's only wish is to protect her husband, even though she already knows the worst.

I did consider whether this was a meditation on film making itself. It certainly has aspects of that. A film maker will shoot many more feet of film than he winds up needing, and edits it into a final form that may or may not bear any relationship to reality or the film maker's original intentions. As Gere dies on camera and over the course of the movie, the events of his life that he wishes to tell come up confused and mishappen, conflating and confabulating with each other. To make sense of that, to make a movie of that -- for the guys within the film already have a contract to sell the film -- will require an editor. That is the true work of any story teller: to arrange events and characters within a story, so that it makes sense to the audience.

But more central to understanding this film is to see that, like others in Schraeder's body of work, it is primarily concerned with outrage. In some ways his work resembles that of Ingmar Bergman: raised religiously, he pondered human fallibility in a world with no G*d to lend an objective framework of right and wrong: puzzlement and disappointment, leaving the audience the question of how to work out a system of morality. Schraeder, on the other hand, seems outraged, filled with despair, and leaving the mess to be cleaned up by the unfortunate survivors. Gere leaves the film makers to make sense of his interview, and Miss Thurman to clean up the mess and lies he has made of his life. It's not Gere's problem: he's dead. And it's not Schraeder's.

Anyway, those are a couple of the ways of viewing the film that I came up with. If you see the movie, despite the fact there's not an explosion or a good joke on view, let me know if they make sense to you. And if you have any interpretations that are different, too.

Perusing the reviews already on here regarding this movie. I notice there are a wide range of scores and views. Some giving it 8 or higher pronouncing it a work of genius. Where as others are giving it a 3 or less. Claiming it a bunch of pretentious rubbish.

Where do I stand? Hmm. I've just watched it and I am still digesting. It is possibly a movie to be watched several times to get the true meaning. Although I must admit there is no way I would sit through this film again. I'm pleased I have seen it but it certainly will not be going in my bag of films to watch again.

I'm going down the middle with a 5. That's possibly being too kind.