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Having just got back from Toronto, and boy what a whirlwind those last few days were. On Tuesday alone, Hannah and I saw 5 movies over the course of 24 hours, and 19 films in total over 5 days. That’s an average of almost four showings a day. And for the record, I could do this all day. We’re already talking about plans for next year, we had such an amazing time and the festival continues to be one of the greatest exhibitions of international cinema in the western hemisphere. With that said, here’s a few more thoughts on films we saw in the latter portion of our time at TIFF.
Monster (dir. Hirokazu Kore-eda)
After Shoplifters, Japan’s most notable mainstay in prestige cinema, Hirokazu Kore-eda, besotted himself with international projects. This kind of leg stretching that saw him make films in both French (starring Catherine Deneuve) and Korean (starring Song Kang-ho) was laudable, but produced mixed results. With Monster, he’s back in his native environs focused on a story of a young boy named Minato and his single mother. Minato begins acting erratically, and starts to show signs of abuse. His mother (played by the always incredible Sakura Ando) gets him to reveal that his teacher has been physically and verbally violent towards Minato. But as she comes to find out through multiple meetings with administration of the school, not all is quite what it seems.
On the whole, Monster is better than his last two for sure, but there’s a whiff of overhype that I can’t shake. It has a script that immediately sucks you in and its shifting perspectives for each act create a scene of a puzzle that is being put into place using the tried and true Rashomon formula. And for its first two acts, there’s a sense that this might be headed to being among the upper echelon of Kore-eda’s work.
But…while the third act finally unveils the filmmaker’s signature tender nature, it also produces more questions of logic than I’m wholly comfortable with. When a story relies on obfuscation based on perspective, if the objective truth is presented, it must make sense. A critical flaw that’s tough to get past.
Hell of a Summer (dir. Finn Wolfhard)
Maybe it’s because we mainlined Stranger Things over the course of a few weeks and I found that to be a generally thrilling time, but I’ve softened a lot on Finn Wolfhard and his cinematic aspirations. Generally speaking, horror always makes for a good first shot at making a movie, and the camp slasher is among the most tried and true go-to’s. So with that said: this could have been worse. Wolfhard and his co-director Billy Bryk strike out a fun, if chintzy debut feature that acts as a Gen-Z take on Friday the 13th, Scream, and much of that ilk. The team that the pair have assembled behind them are remarkably competent pros with solid craft chops, particularly Kristofer Bonnell’s DP work, which does a nice job showcasing the “money on the screen”. And perhaps the most important aspect, the kills, are effectively gorey and fun.
You can’t really ask for a lot in one of these, these Jason knock-offs (which is just a Halloween knock-off, a copy of a copy) can only extend so far. Did I have a good time? I did. The acting is pretty rough, but the script with all its wall to wall witty banter doesn’t do them any favors. Wolfhard and Bryk’s comedy chops aren’t quite there yet, but there’s a couple of howler moments that have stuck with me. Look I’m not one to use age when I grade on a curve, but when I was 20 I was playing in horrible basement bands…so…way to go Finn and Billy, I want to see what you do next.
Poolman (dir. Chris Pine)
Walking into Chris Pine’s directorial debut, which beckoned comparisons to cult classics like Inherent Vice and Under the Silver Lake, we had been greeted with early takes calling this one of the worst films at the festival. After seeing it, my immediate take is: “pearls before swine”. But seriously, this is a specific wavelength and baby it was totally mine. I’ve always been a bit of a devotee for this kind of “city conspiracy that can only be solved by one loser” genre, and this film that started off apparently as a joke between Pine and his co-writer on the set of Wonder Woman 1984 starts off a little shrill. But from the moment Danny DeVito and Annette Bening showed up, this became a laugh riot.
It turns out that what Pine was making in his attempt to craft the story of Darren Barrenman (who he also plays), a pool cleaner that is obsessed with writing letters to Erin Brockovich and endlessly petitions the LA City Council to set up a new street car system isn’t really the hardcore Pynchion odyssey one might expect. Instead the well-read director and star decided to craft a stoner comedy. Maybe the first good one we’ve had in a very long time. On the whole, Poolman is a farce that shares the same DNA as The Big Lebowski and The Nice Guys. Pine doesn’t quite have the storytelling chops of the Coens or Shane Black, but instead his approach has an unpredictable verve and manic energy that ties each of its distinct pieces across the finish line. That the cast is clearly very game, including a hilarious turn by Stephen Tobolowsky, and locked into its star’s vision is all the better.
Pine and some guy (who has no previous credits) he co-wrote it with dropped the best comedy of the festival and a fabulous new entry in the annals of stoner/sunshine noir. I haven’t laughed that hard in a screening in a good long while. And hey, you know, Wet Hot American Summer got bad reviews when it came out too and now everyone pretends as if they liked it from the beginning. Poolman is sure to have a similar fate, you’ll see.
But in the meantime, Criterion, get on this. Stat. The best Chris, undefeated.
Evil Does Not Exist (dir. Ryusuke Hamaguchi)
Between a wordless intro that plays like an overture and a bewildering ending that requires some parsing to map out, this is difficult even by Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s rigorous standards. Carrying neither the epic ennui of his masterwork Drive My Car or the cityside pop of Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy; Evil Does Not Exist lives in a more meditative space. A film that’s focused on the encroachment of development, the futility of black and white thinking, and how fragile the line is between our species and the nature from which we’ve spawned and spurned. All backed by an immensely haunting score from Eiko Ishibashi, that as Hannah informed me, served as the inspiration for the entire film.
It goes without saying it’s excellent and quite funny at points. Despite the long stretches of wood chopping and wandering through the woods, we’re treated to sequences that deepen our relationship to both the members of the small community in which the story takes place and the company that is formulating the new “glamping” site to profit off the potential for tourism in the area. It’s here that Hamaguchi relishes in the core themes of the work. There are no actively bad intentions, despite outward appearances. Instead we are all human beings simply trying to attain some kind of grace and happiness, and as his characters and the audience learns, its understanding that remains our most key facet.
Hamaguchi is, without hesitation, Japan’s best modern filmmaker. I feel privileged that I get to exist at a time when his work is contemporary.
Thanks for riding along with me on these brief capsule reviews from the festival. We’ll have more in the coming days, including articles on our Top 5 films of the festival and more.
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