Artifact [film review]

Artifact originally started off as a document of the recording of 30 Seconds To Mars' third album - pretty standard stuff that wouldn't attract much interest beyond the alt rock band's fan base. What ultimately emerged was a fascinating David versus Goliath exposé of the music industry that will appeal to a much wider audience, revealing the band's ugly battle against an unfair and outdated business model that has been screwing over artists since the industry began. Actor and 30 Seconds To Mars frontman Jared Leto directed Artifact under the pseudonym of "Bartholomew Cubbins" (the name of a Dr. Seuss character) and the film took home this TIFF's Blackberry People's Choice Documentary Award. The recognition rather surprised me, not because the film isn't worthy, but because the award is based on voting from ticket holders of a film's screenings. I saw Artifact's second of three TIFF showings the afternoon after its world premiere and the upper balcony section at the Bloor Hot Docs Cinema was only about one quarter full (mind you, the two-tiered Bloor balcony seating area is quite large).

Only a small portion of the documentary features any biographical information about the group (also including drummer and Jared's brother, Shannon, and guitarist Tomo Milicevic...any mentions of "Leto" hereafter will be referring to Jared) and the many hours of footage shot of the third album's L.A. recording sessions with producer Flood. That album's eventual title, This Is War, reflects the contentious legal battle between the band and their recording label (Virgin/EMI) that comprises most of Artifact's content. The protracted legal conflict began when the band asked to re-negotiate their contract, as their first two albums had sold almost six million copies combined and the band was somehow still in debt to the label. Virgin/EMI declined to restructure the deal and ended up suing the band for $30 million in 2008 for breach of contract when they failed to deliver their third album. Where did the $30 million figure come from? Aside from the label (who won't say), no one seems to know, but that number is too much of a coincidence and one has to assume it's some sort of clumsily conceived figure at least partly chosen for its symbolism. The lawsuit drags out for over 200 days, during which the stress can be seen on Leto and his bandmates as they take meetings with Virgin/EMI, their management (headed up by legendary manager Irving Azoff), and try to create This Is War, which they're financing themselves. Best line of the film: Leto threatens to drag his feet on handing in the album, saying they'll "Chinese Democracy this motherfucker". 

Easy-to-digest graphics helpfully illustrate the warped accounting practices and profit sharing structures of the music industry, explaining the one-sided business relationship almost all newer acts toil under. Interviews with a number of industry figures add extra insight into the dire state of the business, with artists like Linkin Park's Chester Bennington and System Of A Down's Serj Tankian helping to represent the artist's perspective outside of the focal band. Enlightening first-hand accounts from former Virgin/EMI executives also aid in giving a more well-rounded picture of how the litigation was handled from the label's end, as well as discussing the purchase of Virgin/EMI by a UK equity firm that further complicated the lawsuit. 

Leto makes an engaging main subject who I developed a new respect for with his band's principled stand against a long-entrenched system of greed. Several times, Leto questions whether or not the system is too big to fight, but the band refuses to cave. I wasn't very familiar with 30 Seconds To Mars before watching Artifact, only hearing a song or two that hadn't inspired me enough to explore them any further. Like I'm sure many have, I partially dismissed the group as another vanity side project from an actor, and we all know the dubious track record of those. Leto's musical credibility also took a hit with me when he released an extremely creepy video last year of himself dressed as Kurt Cobain while playing Nirvana's "Pennyroyal Tea". Truthfully, the 30 Seconds To Mars music heard in the film hasn't turned me into a fan, but I came away from Artifact with an appreciation of Leto's passion and dedication to his musical pursuits. It seems to be his focus right now and I was struck by the fact there was hardly even a mention in the documentary that he acts - the only acknowledgements of it are when he's recognized for his film work by fans on the streets in New York City and Miami.  

Artifact is an eye-opening film that further reinforces the shady reputation of the music business via the engrossing story of one cog in the machine. 30 Seconds To Mars eventually settled their legal matter by signing a more favourable deal with Virgin/EMI, which included a clause allowing them to release Artifact. Perhaps some things never change, however - as the last scene before the credits reveals, they're still fighting to get their fair share from the label.

Rating: A

The Sessions [film review]

The Sessions, starring John Hawkes (Winter's Bone and Martha Marcy May Marlene) and Helen Hunt, is probably the best film I've seen so far this year. Originally titled The Surrogate when it played at the Sundance Film Festival in January and took home a couple of awards, Hawkes plays real-life writer Mark O'Brien, who was confined to a gurney or iron lung for most of his life due to polio. The plot is fairly straightforward: the combination of a lifetime mostly devoid of any intimacy and an upcoming writing job on the sex lives of the disabled leads the 38-year-old O'Brien to hire a sex surrogate named Cheryl (played by Hunt) to help him lose his virginity, with guidance coming from his local priest (played by William H. Macy).

Hawkes is a revelation, delivering a graceful and affecting performance with essentially no physicality, as he spends the entire film flat on his back and relying almost entirely on his facial performance and voice, which he affects with a slightly nasally tone. Based on his work here, I believe I'll have to go back and revisit the Oscar-nominated performance he gave in Winter's Bone, a film that bored me so much that I bailed out of it about three quarters of the way through. His Mark character is a warm, wickedly funny charmer that will quickly win viewers over (and not out of sympathy for his disability). Occasional voice-overs where Hawkes reads selections of O'Brien's poetry (it's not remotely as painful as it might sound) nicely provide some thoughtful extra insight into his worldview, mostly involving the topic of love. The path leading up to his decision to hire the surrogate introduces us to Macy's fantastic Father Brendan character, who gives Mark his blessing and becomes a source of counsel, friendship, and laughs throughout the rest of the film. Mark also gets encouragement from his two caregivers, including one played in an excellent supporting performance from Moon Bloodgood. Hunt, who has appeared less onscreen in recent years to focus more on directing and theatre work, matches Hawkes' standout work step-for-step, instilling a dignity and compassion to Cheryl as she educates Mark in the ways of physical intimacy. Those teachings tastefully deconstruct the act of sex and all the awkwardness and uncertainty that goes along with it (she also bravely appears completely nude quite a few times). Slivers of Cheryl's home life with her son and husband (played by Adam Arkin) offer just enough of a look into her own growing conflict, which I won't spoil here. 

Director/writer Ben Lewin, a polio survivor himself, has crafted one of those rare knockout cinematic pieces of work that'll hit you about halfway through watching just how special it is. His efforts and a number of first-rate performances should easily succeed in winning your deep emotional investment in The Sessions, which treats a potentially fragile subject with an admirable maturity and a surprisingly pleasant amount of disarming humour.

Rating: A+

Opens in the U.S. on October 19th, Canada on November 2nd, and the rest of the world beginning in November

The Iceman [film review]

The Iceman is based on the life of Richard Kuklinski, who is thought to have murdered somewhere between 100 and 250 people from the 50s through the 80s (authorities suspect there were many more slayings than the roughly 100 he confessed to). Most of those occurred while he worked as a contract killer for various New York and New Jersey crime families, but Kuklinski also admits to numerous killings outside of his hitman duties. His story gained a wider audience with a couple of HBO documentaries in 1992 and 2002, respectively, where Kuklinski recalled his crimes while demonstrating a disturbing lack of remorse for committing them (he died in prison in 2006 while serving the five consecutive life sentences that were handed down in 1988). Playing Kuklinski is Michael Shannon, probably best known for his work on HBO's Boardwalk Empire and the films Take Shelter and Revolutionary Road. The interesting cast directed by Ariel Vroman includes Winona Ryder as Kuklinski's wife, Deborah, Ray Liotta and Robert Davi in familiar mobster roles, David Schwimmer playing one of their flunkies, Chris Evans as another contract killer, and James Franco and Stephen Dorff in brief one-scene roles (Franco was originally supposed to play Evans' part until a scheduling conflict arose).

The middle years of Kuklinski's life make up the majority of the film, starting in the late 60s where we briefly see him courting and marrying Deborah, while hiding from her his dominant dark side and the fact that he works as a porn bootlegger. That job provides a springboard into the organized crime world, where Kuklinski soon finds himself working for Liotta's Gambino crime family-affiliated character and carrying out thuggish duties that include contract killings. Eventually, Kuklinski finds whacking employment with other upper-level east coast crime organizations, telling Deborah, their three kids, friends, and neighbours that he works in the world of finance. At this point, we're well into the 70s, meaning a number of the actors are sporting some serious porn 'stache facial hair. I had a flashback to my Cloud Atlas screening the day before, where some of the heavily made-up actors were virtually unrecognizable. In this case, Evans was onscreen for several minutes before I realized it was him underneath the handlebar moustache, long hair, and glasses, looking radically different from his clean-cut Captain America character. His wisecracking Robert character is probably the best thing about The Iceman, which isn't a good thing when you consider that his role is relatively minor. The dancing scene involving him and Kuklinski, where the latter takes out their target with poison on a crowded disco floor while Blondie's "Heart Of Glass" pumps over the soundtrack, has a twistedly dark humour to it.  

The stark duality of Kuklinski's life as both family man and sociopath is one of his most interesting aspects, but the film fails to exploit this angle to its full potential. His modus operandi involved the unusual habit of employing various killing methods, like poisonings, explosives, strangulations, and the usage of assorted kinds of weapons, plus temporarily freezing many of his victims (hence the nickname) to confound the police as to their times of death, if the bodies were ever found. It's another pretty fascinating nugget for the film to work with, but The Iceman comes up short once again in terms of creatively exploring this potentially rich plot point. 

Shannon is a fantastic actor who excels at playing complex, troubled characters, as anyone who has seen his work in any of the aforementioned projects can attest to (I'll also throw in his memorable turn in The Runaways as Kim Fowley, that band's creepy svengali-ish manager...read my review of it here). The actor can't rise above the too well-trodden crime movie territory that The Iceman inhabits, however, resulting in a hollow effort that feels like a shamefully wasted opportunity. Of the ten films I saw at this year's TIFF, The Iceman easily ranks as my biggest disappointment. 

Rating: C-

The Impossible [film review]

The term "disaster movie" tends to conjure up images of campy and disposable entertainment involving killer asteroids and doomed ship voyages, so attaching it to a film like The Impossible feels wrong, considering the terrible true-life circumstances on which it's based. Those circumstances involve the 2004 Indian Ocean earthquake and tsunami that killed an estimated 280,000 people in 14 different countries. Specifically, the film tells the story of the Belon family, British tourists who were separated from each other when the tsunami hit their beachside resort in Thailand on December 26th.

The bulk of the film features the parallel stories of Henry (played by Ewan McGregor) and his two sons struggling to reunite with his doctor wife, Maria (played by Naomi Watts), and the couple's oldest son, Lucas (played by impressive newcomer Tom Holland). The Impossible's focal point is obviously the tsunami event and the sequence is quite impressively executed by Spanish director Juan Antonio Bayona. Mostly eschewing special effects and relying on recreating the spectacle in the second largest water tank in the world, the ten minute sequence is gripping and immersive, realistically conveying the magnitude, violence, and unpredictability of mother nature. The aftermath of the big disaster (meaning the vast majority of the movie) inevitably feels somewhat anti-climatic, as the family makes the slow, arduous journey back to one another. Bayona briefly livens things up during one of these scenes with a gruesome close-up shot of a thigh wound suffered by Maria that elicited collective gasps and squirms from the theatre audience. According to this story, that shot apparently caused a couple of moviegoers at The Impossible's TIFF world premiere screening the day before to actually pass out. In either the same scene or one shortly before or shortly after it, the director also made what I thought was an odd decision in showing one of Maria's breasts being exposed to her son because one of the straps on her top had broken off. Considering the hell the tsunami had just put them through, the scenario was completely plausible and the real-life Maria was on set for most of the lengthy seven month shoot (ironically, bad weather slowed down production), so I can't even entertain the notion that the shot was exploitative. Even still, it just seemed like a very strange creative choice on Bayona's part.

Watts and McGregor give sound performances in roles I'd classify as unremarkable, especially McGregor's. Watts has a lot more heavy lifting to do, particularly during the numerous scenes where she's bedridden. Some early reviews of The Impossible wildly speculated on Oscar nominations for their performances, which would devalue that whole spectacle even more in my eyes than it already is. Holland gets more screen time than either star and acquits himself very well. The Impossible's frequent reliance on the youngster's point of view, coupled with the spectacle of the tsunami, also lends the film an unmistakable Spielbergian quality (you can also find it in the occasionally overly manipulative musical score).

I found myself intermittently more emotionally invested with the characters than I would have expected, but The Impossible ends up feeling like little more than average entertainment with one dynamic ten minute segment. 

Rating: B-

Opens in Spain next week and select European and Asian markets through February 2013; opens in North America in late December  

Mea Maxima Culpa: Silence In The House Of God [film review]

After looking at the world of NHL pugilists in last year's outstanding The Last Gladiators (read my review here), Mea Maxima Culpa: Silence In The House Of God finds director Alex Gibney returning to investigating abuses of power, a theme that has served him well in past efforts like Enron: The Smartest Guys In The Room and the Oscar-winning Taxi To The Dark Side. This disturbing exposé on the problem of child and youth sexual abuse in the Catholic Church focusses partly on the stories of five deaf men who are thought to be the first individuals to ever publicly protest abuses by clergy in the United States, after they were victimized by Father Lawrence Murphy at St. John's School for the Deaf in the suburbs of Milwaukee during the 60s and 70s. Gibney also takes a broader view of the subject by looking at other cases of clergy abuse (notably in Ireland) and the systematic cover-ups of these crimes by the Catholic Church's top officials, whose unofficial policy on the matter is to "deny, minimize, and blame", according to one journalist interviewed. "Mea Maxima Culpa's" Latin translation is "my most grievous fault".

Although the five St. John's victims have been working for over three decades to call attention to the issue and seek justice for their suffering, their story gained traction after New York Times writer Laurie Goodstein wrote an article in 2010 about the Vatican's failure to defrock Murphy, despite the fact that they were presented with undeniable evidence of his crimes and received strong warnings from some American church officials. Murphy is believed to have molested over 200 boys at the boarding school from the 50s until 1974, when he was transferred to another parish. The Vatican was alerted of Murphy's behaviour in 1963 and did nothing. Actors Jamey Sheridan, Chris Cooper, Ethan Hawke, and John Slattery give voice to the victims, who use sign language with punctuated hand slaps to express the horrors they endured at the hand of Murphy and the shame that followed. Murphy's textbook predatory behaviour found him singling out what he perceived as the weaker students and further exploiting the fact that they faced an obvious barrier in communicating over the phone with their families. Three of the victims, including Terry Kohut, who sued the Catholic Church and named the current Pope in his lawsuit, were on hand for the world premiere TIFF screening I attended and gave their emotional reaction to it afterwards at the Q & A through a sign language interpreter. Just knowing that they were in the audience and reliving their pain while seeing the finished film for the first time added an extra significance and weight to the proceedings.

The investigations resulting from the Kohut lawsuit ended up leading to the discovery of secret Vatican documents that detailed many instances of sexual abuse cover-ups that reach to the highest levels of the Catholic Church, with Popes John Paul II and Benedict XVI (then Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger) substantially implicated. In the years before being anointed Pope, Ratzinger oversaw a Vatican council that monitored sexual abuse cases in the Church, so his post-anointment claims of being unaware of most of what was occurring seem highly unlikely. How his and his predecessor's culpability and mishandling of these tragic cases hasn't been a much larger media story is difficult to understand.

That aside, overall media coverage of child and youth sexual abuse in the Catholic Church has, sadly, become an all-too-familiar story that one almost becomes numb to. Gibney rises to the challenge of presenting a fresh take on a much-discussed important subject with this well-researched and powerful film. My only real negative about it are the re-enactments that Gibney employs, even if they are artfully composed and beautifully shot, using plenty of religious imagery. Re-enactments are a staple of Gibney's work (not to mention Errol Morris'), but the stories he tells are usually compelling enough and, in my opinion, the end results are slightly diminished with this gimmicky device that feels like an imagination crutch for the audience.   

Rating: B

Opens in the U.S. in November; TV premiere in early 2013 on HBO

Side note: While exiting a TIFF screening of Roman Polanski: Odd Man Out, I ran into Gibney (who had also just watched the documentary) and got a chance to shake his hand, tell him how much I enjoyed his work, and how forward I was looking to being at the Mea Maxima Culpa premiere the next afternoon. I refrained from mentioning my dislike of his use of the re-enactment segments.

Related post: my May 2010 review of Gibney's Casino Jack And The United States Of Money

Sam Sniderman + Young and Dundas nostalgia...

I was saddened to hear about the passing of Sam Sniderman on Sunday at the age of 92. Not unlike many other fellow music junkies living in the Toronto area, I always had a warm spot for his 40,000 square foot Sam The Record Man flagship store in the heart of the city's downtown at Yonge and Dundas. The store and its legendary signage featuring a couple of massive flashing neon LPs and those "Yes this is Sam The Record Man" greetings below them were always a welcome sight for a young kid from the suburbs who would travel on the bus and subway for a good 90 minutes every few months to get his media fix at Sam's, the next door A & A Records flagship store, and the nearby World's Biggest Bookstore. I also have fond memories of purchasing my first KISS records (and many others) at the Hillcrest Mall Sam's store in Richmond Hill, which was the closest music outlet to me. I had to spend a fair amount of time in the Yonge and Dundas area a couple of weeks ago during the Toronto International Film Festival and more than ever, walking around the area made me nostalgic. Much of that was brought on by going into the World's Biggest Bookstore for the first time in years and likely my last time ever, after I'd read a couple of months ago that it was closing soon. I must say that I'm not really a fan of the major facelift that the area has undergone over the past decade. Call me old fashioned or not progressive enough, but the Times Square-lite look of the intersection is just one more reason I'm now less inclined to make a trip downtown unless I absolutely have to.

"The Yonge Street Sam's", as it was known by some, seemed to have just about everything as far as selection and I remember a younger, more ignorant me bitterly wondering why so much floor space was devoted to those boring jazz and classical musical sections that I never stepped foot in. Certainly, a healthy chunk of my sizable CD collection was purchased there. It's a cliché, but the approachable and knowledgeable staff were another plus when one shopped at 347 Yonge Street and I fondly remember getting a kick out of seeing Sniderman at the front checkouts on a couple of occasions. Other visits included sightings of The Pursuit Of Happiness' Moe Berg, Kim Mitchell, White Zombie bassist Sean Yseult, Maple Leaf Gary Leeman, and a fairly low level Canadian actress who I witnessed having a minor meltdown at the cash register (I can't remember her name for the life of me, but I'd know the face and name as soon as I saw or heard it). The store had a definite throwback charm with its slightly shabby appearance, narrow aisles, numerous bargain bins, and floors that squeaked and I swear were uneven in places. These rustic qualities simply aren't part of the equation when you're shopping in the antiseptic environment of music stores like HMV (which seem to be getting harder to find) and...well, I guess that's almost about it now in Canada, isn't it? I think there's still a few Sunrise Music stores around, but I'm not really aware of any locations aside from the flagship store across from the old Sam's. I actually probably bought more CDs from there than any other retail outlet because of their awesome membership card that let you get your tenth purchase free, based on the average amount spent on your previous nine purchases. Let me tell you, I exploited that offer to the hilt, spending around $150 a visit. It took me awhile to rack up those nine transactions, but that tenth visit when I knew I'd be walking out of there with 8-10 new CDs for nothing was probably the highlight of my month.

Sam The Record Man couldn't survive the damage done to brick and mortar music retail by illegal downloading and the iTunes store, filing for bankruptcy in 2001 and eventually struggling to keep the flagship store open until 2007 (I was amazed to find out there's a lone Sam's store still operating in Belleville, Ontario). The old sign was put in storage after the flagship Sam's store property was purchased by Ryerson University and there are currently plans to resurrect it for display somewhere on the Ryerson campus. Sniderman lived a full life and earned numerous accolades, including the highly prestigious Order of Canada. After reading a lot of the tributes that have been pouring in, it's clear that he touched a lot of people's lives and I always appreciated that he truly identified and "got" the passionate music fan...because he was a passionate music fan. Sniderman certainly made being one of them in the Toronto area a more pleasant experience.

Some information taken from this article on TheStar.com

Cloud Atlas [film review]

"Impressive". That's the best description I could come up with after being asked by my brother and sister-in-law about my thoughts on Cloud Atlas immediately following the film's second-ever public screening we'd just attended. Not a very incisive assessment, I'll grant you, but my head was still spinning as I tried to make sense of what I'd just witnessed over the film's jam-packed two hour and forty three minute running time. This may be one the most ambitious and epic films I've ever seen, demanding rapt attention from viewers as they're taken on an odyssey that spans the globe over 500 years and hopscotches between numerous interwoven storylines that incorporates just about every film genre available, featuring actors playing several different roles each. Cloud Atlas is based on British author David Mitchell's best-selling 2004 novel and was a huge challenge for the filmmakers to adapt and finance (its estimated budget of over $100 million also makes it the most expensive independent film ever made). The architects of this beautifully twisted madness are directors/writers/producers Tom Tykwer (Run Lola Run) and The Matrix's Wachowski siblings, Andy and Lana (Lana was Larry until a gender transition that was completed about five years ago). The Wachowskis, notoriously press shy, were surprisingly on hand (along with Tykwer) to introduce the film's second screening the morning after its star-studded TIFF world premiere on September 8th at the Princess of Wales Theatre. 

A movie this expansive should have a large cast, considering how many characters appear - not so in this case, though. Principal actors Tom Hanks, Halle Berry, Hugh Grant, Jim Broadbent, Hugo Weaving, Jim Sturgess, and Xun Zhou each take on multiple roles that plays loose and fast with the actors' ages, races, and genders (Susan Sarandon, Keith David, James D'Arcy, and Doona Bae also have smaller roles). Having so many dimensions to explore with all of their characters must have been acting nirvana for this lot. For the most part, they pull off the various requirements of the roles, many of which require a significant amount of prosthetics and makeup (click here for a look at some of the characters). Several of the roles were so well disguised that I was completely clueless that a certain actor had played the role until the end credits visually made some of the big reveals (learning that Berry played the white Victorian housewife and Grant a war paint-layered native completely floored me). Sticking around until the end is an absolute necessity for Cloud Atlas - the oohs and ahhs from the sold-out Winter Garden Theatre audience as they discovered who actually played some of the parts was a wonderfully unique filmgoing experience for me. For all of the positive aspects that the race bending and gender bending idea brings to the film, there is the distinct whiff of gimmick attached to it. Things do get a little silly when you have Weaving seemingly playing an Asian character whose makeup produces more of a Vulcan look (which may have been intentional on the filmmakers' part), as well as in full drag playing a Nurse Ratched-like character. The latter obviously has parallels to Lana Wachowski's own life and although the nurse character provides some decent laughs, I was a little hung up on how it seemed one of the character's main functions was to generate laughs purely based on the surreal sight of Weaving playing one truly ugly looking woman. Perhaps I'm reading too much into it.  

Weaving does provide one of Cloud Atlas' most memorable roles, as the seriously creepy Old Georgie, who terrorizes one of Hanks' many characters. Hanks does some of the best work I've ever seen from him, playing four different characters that range from an unscrupulous doctor in the 1800s to going far against type with maybe the film's standout character, a modern-day thuggish British writer named Dermot Hoggins who gets the ultimate revenge on a critic for a bad review. Berry is excellent with her main roles playing an ambitious reporter in 1970s San Francisco and a political figurehead (from what I could grasp) aligned with one of Hanks' characters in the far future, in one of the film's few storylines that doesn't quite work. Also great is Broadbent as both a composer and playing a man tricked into living in a retirement home, who provides the film's best comic relief. 

The weighty Cloud Atlas themes of interconnectedness, philosophy, reincarnation, oppression, and destiny, along with the film's highly challenging pace and complex non-linear storytelling construct will prove daunting to many - that's okay, however. I was lost a number of times - not Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy-level lost, mind you, but definitely out of sync with what was happening onscreen. This is the type of daring film that demands multiple viewings to completely grasp the filmmakers' grand scope and there's nothing wrong with a little audaciousness from Hollywood once in a while. Even with a big-name cast, it'll be very interesting to see how the otherwise difficult-to-market Cloud Atlas will fare at the box office come late October.

Rating: A-

Opens in North America on October 26th

Roman Polanski: Odd Man Out [film review]

Director Marina Zenovich follows up her acclaimed 2008 documentary Roman Polanski: Wanted And Desired (read my review here) with the intriguing, if slightly less impactful Roman Polanski: Odd Man Out, which had its world premiere at TIFF. Wanted And Desired brilliantly dissected the details of Polanski's mishandled 1977 statutory rape case, the filmmaker's subsequent fleeing of the U.S., and his life since that time. Odd Man Out adds further perspective and insight into the man and his case, while also examining the unforeseen effects that the preceding film had on both Polanski's and Zenovich's lives. Even considering the evolution of the story with Polanski's unexpected 2009 arrest in Switzerland on an American warrant and his subsequent imprisonment, I was mildly skeptical as to whether or not the filmmaker merited another feature-length doc from the same director so relatively soon after the first one. The excellence of Wanted And Desired gave Zenovich the benefit of the doubt from me, however, and what she presents in Odd Man Out more than justifies another Polanski doc. 

Some facts and details from the first film are expectedly revisited, usually with some sort of update where relevant. Most notable is the bizarre retraction of statements made in Wanted And Desired from David Wells, one of the rape case's former prosecutors and a central figure of that film. Samantha Geimer, the then-13-year-old rape victim, is also interviewed extensively (as she was in Wanted And Desired), reiterating that she has forgiven Polanski and wishing everyone would just move on with their lives. Not to sound insensitive to what she's gone through, but I was a little puzzled at the contradiction in her expressed exasperation at the continuing media attention, yet still being willing to talk about Polanski and the case (along with her mother and husband) in a prominent documentary.

The centrepiece of Odd Man Out is Polanski's 2009 arrest, which was followed by over two months spent in a Swiss jail and seven more months under house arrest at his Swiss chalet, all while the threat of extradition to the U.S. loomed over him. The motives for the timing of the arrest are murky and curious, especially considering Switzerland's long-held tradition of neutrality and that the 79-year-old filmmaker had either lived or vacationed in the country for decades. Many think that the high profile of Wanted And Desired was the prime reason - directly or indirectly - for his detainment, a proposition that weighs heavy on Zenovich. She also looks at other possible intriguing factors, including that Switzerland might have wanted to cooperate with the U.S. government in exchange for leniency surrounding a matter of tax evasion charges between the two countries involving Swiss bank UBS, or that the resurrected case might have been used for attention by a Los Angeles District Attorney with higher political ambitions. The media firestorm that erupted after the arrest is also thoughtfully examined (click here for an amusing picture of the media circus outside Polanski's chalet during his house arrest). 

Once again, Zenovich gracefully navigates the delicate waters of the Polanski-as-victim portrayal that the facts in her films conflictingly make unavoidable. The director actually had an interview scheduled with him for a short film follow-up to Wanted And Desired, but he was arrested just before that interview was to take place. As interesting as that exchange would have been, the latest developments in Roman Polanski's long, strange life almost certainly make for the more engaging film experience that Odd Man Out delivers. 

Rating: B

An "I kid you not" side note: In the lineup for the movie, just before I had turned my iPod on (and thank God I didn't miss this), a woman who clearly wasn't familiar with Polanski's history asked her friend if he would be attending the screening. 

Everybody Has A Plan (Todos Tenemos Un Plan) [film review]

Everybody Has A Plan marks the fourth Spanish-language film for Viggo Mortensen, who spent a number of years in his youth living in Argentina. His latest project finds him playing identical twin brothers in the film noir from Argentinian first-time feature director Ana Piterbarg, who also co-wrote the screenplay.

The premise: Agustín (played by Mortensen) would appear to have the ideal life. He's a pediatrician with an attractive wife (Claudia, played by Soledad Villamil) living quite comfortably in Buenos Aires. The couple's plan to adopt a baby derails when Agustín changes his mind at the last minute, leading to a huge rift that brings to the surface the true unfulfillment that Agustín feels with his life. In the midst of a depressive episode where Agustín decides to lock himself in a room, Claudia leaves for some time away and Agustín soon receives a visit from his estranged twin brother, Pedro (also played by Mortensen), a beekeeper who reveals he has terminal lung cancer. Certain circumstances lead to Agustín eventually escaping his obligation-filled existence and assuming his brother's identity, taking up residence in Pedro's rundown shack in Argentina's Tigre Delta island region where the brothers grew up. A romance develops with one of Pedro's much younger bee farm helpers (Rosa, played by Sofía Gala Castaglione), while Agustín becomes caught up in the fallout from Pedro's past criminal affairs with some shady locals.

Mortensen is solid as the brothers, who only share a few scenes simultaneously. Sometimes it could be difficult telling them apart, although the Pedro character tended to be a little more rough around the edges and frankly, I couldn't distinguish the characters' subtle accent differences Mortensen talked about using at the post-screening Q & A. Regardless, his comfort level with the Spanish language is certainly never an issue. Villamil and Castaglione turn in quite fine supporting work, but Daniel Fanego as the proverbial villain is a definite weak link in the film. Other than looking rather creepy, I found the role underwritten and the actor lacking in screen presence.

Piterbarg and cinematographer Lucio Bonelli do a nice job of capturing the dank and swampy atmosphere of the isolated delta area, which not surprisingly is a magnet for criminals and outcasts and makes for a nice backdrop for the malfeasance that drives the narrative. The director also specifically lets a number of questions hang, adding to the film's mystery, but occasionally there's some story choices that are befuddling. Most glaring are the ease with which Agustín sells to others that he's Pedro, as well as the fact that Agustín doesn't bolt after being beaten by locals thinking he's Pedro, just shortly after arriving in the Tigre Delta.

Everybody Has A Plan's flaws, not the least of which also includes some overly languid pacing, results in a decidedly unremarkable viewing experience.

Rating: C-

The Place Beyond The Pines [film review]

The Place Beyond The Pines derives its title from the English translation of the Mohawk name for Schenectady, New York, where the film is set. Director Derek Cianfrance's third feature is the follow-up to 2010's widely praised Blue Valentine, a movie whose supposed magnificence was lost on me. Cianfrance reteams with one of that film's stars, Ryan Gosling, for one of The Place Beyond The Pines' three segments that unfolds over a 15 year period with interconnected storylines that mixes elements of crime drama, teenage angst, questions about fate, and the complexities of father-son relationships.

The first segment is unquestionably the film's strongest, with Gosling further refining the brooding anti-hero character that seems to have become his stock-in-trade. His Luke character is introduced in the film's great opening scene that employs an extensive single tracking shot, as the audience views his heavily tattooed body and carnival motorcycle stunt rider profession, which convey Luke's societal fringe elements without saying a word. Luke's white trash status is also reinforced by the repeated wearing of a Metallica Ride The Lightning muscle tee and a ratty white t-shirt worn inside out in public, tag and all (I love that the latter is never addressed by any characters Luke meets). A reconnection with a woman (Romina, played by a solid Eva Mendes) he had a quickie fling with the last time his job brought him to town reveals that he's the father of her two-year old son. The news awakens Luke's paternal instincts and he attempts to insert himself back into the pair's lives, despite the complication of another man in Romina's life. Desperate to prove he can provide for Romina and his son, Luke ends up robbing banks, with the assistance of a scruffy auto mechanic he's met (an excellent Ben Mendelsohn providing some understated comic relief). Aspects of Luke and his deeds immediately bring to mind Gosling's role from last year's Drive. Despite the similarities in roles surprisingly played so close to each other, Gosling's unpredictable, violence-prone character commands the screen for the approximately hour long length of his segment. His storyline does admittedly benefit from the best writing of the three segments, courtesy of screenwriters Cianfrance, Ben Coccio, and Darius Marder.

Gosling's dynamism and that first segment's brilliance are only highlighted by the significantly diminishing returns that follow it. Segment two stars Bradley Cooper as a rookie cop who found himself involved in Luke's story, with other subplots involving police corruption, morality, and an unhappy marriage also playing out. I've always found Cooper to be a rather dull actor and his performance here hasn't changed my opinion; that, combined with the segment's derivative story, managed to effectively kill my segment one buzz. The writing is also too uneven - Cooper's character is set up as a smart, moral person, yet those qualities are a little too conveniently discarded when he's presented with a career-altering decision. Bruce Greenwood is memorable in a small role as a high-ranking cop, while Ray Liotta's minor role as an intimidating, crooked cop feels like the kind of role we've seen from him dozens of times already.

Segment three completes The Place Beyond The Pines' downhill slide, focussing on the teenage sons (played by Dane DeHaan and Emory Cohen) of Gosling's and Cooper's characters. As the snoozy storyline featuring bratty behaviour from the screwed up high school students developed, I could never get past the fact the segment hinged on their chance meeting and eventual friendship. That meeting, considering the inextricably linked history they share via their fathers, was simply far too coincidental for me to suspend disbelief. Also distracting: a time jump of 15 years reveals Cooper's character and that of his wife (played by Rose Byrne) to have seemingly not aged at all, while Mendes' Romina looks to have aged about 25 years.

I respect the fact that Cianfrance took some risks with The Place Beyond The Pines, which had its world premiere at TIFF - he throws in a major plot twist relatively early on and the movie's segmented structure is definitely a gamble and somewhat unconventional, but unfortunately, the loosely connected narrative and performances don't hold together over the course of the film's too-long 140 minute running time. The disappointing ending shouldn't come as much of a shock to anyone who has just witnessed the decline from the first-rate quality of the riveting opening segment to the progressively inferior chapters that follow. As the last third of it plays out, that swing has been so dramatic that it almost feels like we're watching an altogether different movie.

Rating: C+