Review - Take This Waltz (Polley, 2011) ***

Disclosure: I am proud to be a born and raised Torontonian, so it was hard for me not to get wrapped up in the stunning, sun-soaked portrayal of the city in Actor/Writer/Director Sarah Polley's sophomore feature Take This Waltz. The film itself is a love letter to the giant, amorphous city that I live in, but it is also a dizzyingly honest, if at times heavy handed treatise on the insecurities that plague us and the dangerous allure of infatuation; an almost apt metaphor for those who have fallen in love with the city, but are consistently disillusioned by its faults and inability to love them back.

Michelle Williams is breathtaking as Margot, a 28 year old pamphlet writer living in Toronto's characteristically quirky West End with her simple, but adoring husband Lou, played by a surprisingly convincing Seth Rogen. When Margot travels to the Maritime province of Nova Scotia, she meets and instantly develops a sexually tense bond with Daniel, an intelligent, hauntingly handsome artist who just so happens to have moved into a bachelor apartment across the street. Daniel and Margot's relationship quickly intensifies, but lies dormant under the weight of Margor's committment to her love for Lou, his family and their life together, despite the emotional distance growing between the married couple.

This is a poignant, humanistic look at the most desperate, idealistic form of love. The kind of love that is dreamed, never realized, but always sought after. Sarah Silverman plays Lou's sister Geraldine, a recovering alcoholic whose addiction Polley writes in as a thematic parallel to Margot's struggle to maintain control while being pushed towards romantic idealism. Is Margot addicted to delusions of a grand love? Polley toys with the answer, building her characters through sometimes subtle, sometimes metaphorically overbearing, but mostly memorable moments: a kaleidoscopic spin on a chaotic amusement park ride is effective, but hints at pretentiousness. A late night swim shared by Margot and Daniel at a local community center pool (which happens to be *my* local community center pool) is also lensed carefully, with an assured rhythm that permeates a number of key scenes.

Polley strikes a more provocative, interesting tone in the third act that almost absolves the film of its slightly overbearing symbolism. The film is paced somewhat like a Summer love affair. It's hot, full of passion, but has an inevitable tinge of melancholia that comes with its conclusion. There is something of a slight plot twist that I really liked in its powerful simplicity. Characters make decisions that have life-changing consequences, but we know their regrets will always linger. As Seth Rogen's Lou comments near the end of the film, "sometimes things stick." Polley's strengths as a writer and director come from her ability to create indelible cinema out of moments that feel entirely natural. In a recent interview, Polley said making this film was an opportunity to "experiment" after the critical success of her first feature, Away From Her. All filmmakers' experiments should hope to be as delicately crafted, if a little undercooked, as this Take This Waltz.

Review - The Dark Knight Rises (Nolan, 2012) ****

As the conclusion to director Christopher Nolan's gritty, groundbreaking Dark Knight trilogy, The Dark Knight Rises is a thrilling, but at times slow burning epic that truly stands on its own as a violent, mythical parable for the economic tragedy and pretensions of modern Western civilization. And with a bevy of memorable new characters, including the addition of Anne Hathaway's dangerous, sexy thief Selina Kyle (whom moviegoers might inevitably call Catwoman), Joseph Gordon-Levitt's idealistic street-level Gotham cop John Blake and Tom Hardy's brutal, imposing terrorist Bane, along with grandiose, thunderous action sequences and an absolutely perfect third act, this is one of the year's most vital cinematic experiences.

Inspired by Charles Dickens' classic novel A Tale of Two Cities, Nolan's final Batman film picks up a full eight years after the events of The Dark Knight, with Gotham on the cusp of a major class war and Christian Bale's Bruce Wayne, now a recluse billionaire with a crumbling empire, holed up in the rebuilt Wayne Manor, once destroyed by Ra's Al Ghul in Batman Begins (a viewing of which is practically essential). Opening with a kinetic mid-air assault on a CIA aircraft and the kidnapping of a Russian nuclear physicist by Bane, a series of events are set in motion including the arrival of Bane and his underground army of ex-mercenaries and Gotham street thugs and a heist on the Gotham stock exchange heist orchestrated by Bane and corrupt businessman John Daggett, forcing Bruce Wayne to don the Cape and Cowl once again. Returning characters include Gary Oldman's Commissioner Gordon, whose committment to harboring the true nature of Harvey Dent's death in The Dark Knight has led to a dramatic decrease in crime, Morgan Freeman as Wayne Enterprises CEO and weapons genius Lucius Fox and Michael Caine with the most tragic, emotionally affecting portrayal of Wayne family butler Alfred Pennyworth seen yet on screen.

As is clear by now, this is a huge film. A fair number of scenes are purely expository as Nolan, an extremely careful filmmaker when it comes to establishing the stakes and usually labyrinthine-like plots of his films, takes about a full hour setting the stage for what one character calls "Gotham's reckoning." (One might call the film's first hour "slow". Some critics have called it "clunky", but I do not share that sentiment.)  Reckoning, in my view, is the operative word in discussing the journey and fate of Batman et al. The tragic flaws of Nolan's main characters are usually tied in directly to his films' narrative arc. With The Dark Knight Rises, we see Nolan operating on a truly epic, macro level: Nolan has imbibed his Batman trilogy with a gritty, urban realism, wholly separating itself from the standard flash-bang, comic booky tone of modern superhero films by creating Gotham as a functioning, living organism, much like a real city. It is in the realization of Bane's plan that ultimately cuts the city of Gotham off from the rest of civilzation, where the pretensions of modern society are stripped away and characters are forced to confront their most primal fears; post-viewing I was reminded of HBO's seminal television crime drama, The Wire.

It might be a push to compare a Batman film with that of The Wire in this sense, but there is a startling comparison that I'd like make with The Dark Knight Rises. The Wire is a show that details urban decay and systemic inequalities at its very roots, but does so in a way that never loses sight of human ingenuity and the hope that exists in those who have the ability to achieve catharsis and escape the tragedy of political ego driven by the neurotic drive to survive within the system. Here, as laid out clearly in a memorable exchange between Bruce Wayne/Batman and Selina Kyle (another character that seeks catharsis, a literal "clean slate") towards the film's conclusion, we see how Nolan is equating selflessness with salvation:

Selina Kyle: "You don't owe these people anymore. You've given them everything.
Bruce Wayne/Batman: "Not everything. Not yet."

The overt Dickensian aspects of The Dark Knight Rises, encompassing issues of criminality, poverty and the prospect of urban salvation, have been beautifully detailed already by Forrest Wickman at Slate, but also are a true reminder of why Christopher Nolan is revered as one of the most clever filmmakers working today and perhaps one of the absolute best third act directors of all time. The last 20 or so minutes of The Dark Knight Rises is a pulse-pounding symphony of destruction, emotion and enlightenment in a long, disturbing film teeming with fear and tragedy. The Dark Knight Rises is a provocative film that yes, might require patience from the average filmgoer and the most hardcore of Batman aficionados, but as the finale in a trilogy that revitalized a franchise, and as a stand alone cinematic experience, it is a rousing spectacle of action, emotion and catharsis. It deserves to be seen on the biggest screen possible.

Hot Docs 2012 - Detropia (Ewing & Grady, 2012) ****

Acclaimed documentarians Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady (Jesus Camp) offer in Detropia a visually stunning, thought-provoking mosaic of a decaying urban city that evocatively shows the macro and microeconomic causes of the fastest shrinking city in America. A provocative feature that seeks to portray the city of Detriot's woes as a microcosm for what's currently ailing the U.S, Ewing and Grady employ a detached, fragmented narrative that peeks in on the myriad abandoned homes and buildings in the downtown core and lets its subjects speak for themselves.

Detroit, a city that used to employ hundreds of thousands of people who could pull in a decent wage working at an automotive plant, has been steadily in decline since the 1980s, when the corporate push for cheap, foreign workers and federal divestment from municipal coffers became economic effects of the Reagan administration. As a result, the city has been mired with issues of poverty, crime and general degredation for decades, with no hope in sight for long time union workers looking to retire before they reach old age, or youth abanoned by the education system looking for steady work, or even a way to keep afloat. Presently, all the wealth in the Detriot area is centralized in the suburbs, beyond the city's infamous 8 Mile, as director Ewing even alluded to in her remarks after the film.

This kind of background is important for understanding the film's aesthetic, which means that the film will probably mostly appeal to those who have an interest in municipal policy, economics or urban planning, but for my money, does not lessen its power or its message. Ewing and Grady decline to establish a main subject, but there are a few interesting Detrioters that cross the viewers path: There's the deeply philosophical, politically astitute "last black owner" of a blues bar just outside the city; the charismatic, slightly senile union leader who longs for the good old days; and the blogger / barista with a big personality who has an interesting hobby of sneaking into abandoned buildings, taking pictures and sharing the property's stories with the world. The rest of the film is comprised of beautifully shot vignettes that give sometimes bleak, sometimes quirky and sometimes life-affirming snapshots of modern day Detroit.

This is a documentary that is not about "solutions" or establishing a public relations campaign to save Detroit. Rather, Detropia is a kaleidoscopic journey into a city that reminds us of the kindness and perseverence of the American people despite economic woe. Those who are engaged in, or passionately observing economics at the municipal level will immediately find much food-for-thought in the filmmakers' subtle depiction of the City as perhaps the most important level of government when it comes to maintaining the well being of the American citizens but fans of gorgeous, intelligent documentaries would be remiss to pass up Detropia.

Hot Docs 2012 - Indie Game (Swirsky & Pajot, 2012) ***

 Lisanne Pajot and James Swirsky's first feature documentary Indie Game: The Movie is a surprisingly heartfelt look at the undocumented trials and tribulations of a new breed of independent video game developers, who put their lives and their finances on the line to create state of the art video games that are both deeply personal artistic expressions and highly lucrative products. The film follows three games, each with their respective creators, looking to take advantage of the completely revolutionized video game distribution model that has allowed independent developers to flourish and create legitimate businesses for themselves. There's the egotistical perfectionist Phil Fish from Montreal, whose game Fez has been in development for almost half a decade; Edmund and Tommy, highly quirky, intense nerd-types about to release Super Meat Boy; and Jonathan, a developer out of San Francisco, whose Braid was a smash hit before the film was released, struggling to cope with the emotional impact of the game's success.

For a film about guys sitting on their computers all day, the directors actually wring an enormous amount of emotion out of their subjects. Super Meat Boy developer Tommy, in particular is a multifaceted, highly complex and at times psychologically difficult person. We see him taking insulin shots after eating meals, expounding on his social awkwardness, going as far as discussing death if his game is not completed. Phil Fish also openly contemplates suicide on camera, his enormous ego being driven to its limit as his personal life crumbles and a former business partner threatens the release of the game. Film has great production values too despite it's crowdfunded budget, with some of the best visual respresentaions of 2D and 3D video games ever seen on screen.

Indie Game is a tad on the long side, though. At times the film feels overwrought, as all the main subjects are consistently on the verge of a panic attack. A sharper edit could have fixed some of the apparent fat that hangs off the film as we wait for stories to find their climax. Swirsky and Pajot have recently inked a deal to option their film as a television show, produced by Scott Rudin, Ron Howard and airing on HBO. This is a film not just for video gamers, but people interested in the immense challenges associated with investing everything into an art form and praying that it will all be worth it someday.

Hot Docs 2012 - Shut Up and Play the Hits (Lovelace & Southern, 2011) ****

I illegally downloaded LCD Soundsystem's first self-titled album in 2005, which was just when I was starting university. I hadn't known the face of the band, the wunderkind James Murphy, other than what I had read about him in SPIN magazine. But what I remember is that the music was almost revolutionary for its day: it was like Murphy took all the genres he liked and threw them in a blender and they came out as this new genre called "dance rock" that suddenly became all the buzz. Murphy was unapologetically cynical in his lyrics and in the hard-edged disco grooves laid down beneath his voice, his music influencing a new generation of genre-busting rock musicians. Cut to 2011. Just months after releasing the band's successful third album "This is Happening", Murphy, 41 years old, decides to call it quits. Shut Up and Play the Hits is a concert film that captures the band's final concert at Madison Square Gardens, as well as a behind the scenes meditation on aging and morality as an artist in the 21st century.

For those unfamiliar with LCD Soundsystem, I would describe Lovelace and Southern's film as kind of a mash-up between Scorsese's The Last Waltz chronicalling the last show of The Band (rest in peace, Levon Helm) and Jonathan Demme's masterpiece, Stop Making Sense, the Talking Heads concert film. Sequences during the actual show itself are meticulously shot and edited, with lots of lush, sweeping camera moves and artful, dynamic framing that add an adrenaline fueled feeling to the already spectacular performance of the band and the accompanying light show. Special guests include members of Arcade Fire, Reggie Watts, and even a brief cameo by the wonderful Donald Glover as a spectator. In the pantheon of great farewell concerts, Murphy, who describes it in the film as a "giant high school musical", put on one of the most memorable and kinetic shows of all time.

Intercut with concert footage are segments that bookend each song. Murphy is interviewed just before the show by the incisvely nerdy Chuck Klosterman, who pushes the musician to come to terms with his decision to leave his greatest accomplishment by the wayside. We also see what amounts to Murphy's entire lazy hungover day-after the show, as he purges the necessary emotions and begins his retirement. Thematically, Shut Up and Play the Hits asks questions about art and fate. Do we let our art govern our paths in life, or will our conscience inevitably come to shed the art from our lives as we get older, and it loses meaning. Or does the art we create ever lose meaning? One of the strongest concert films in years and the most visually stunning documentary at Hot Docs 2012 thus far.

Hot Docs 2012 - Charles Bradley: Soul of America (Brien, 2012) *****

Filmmaker and Music Video director Poull Brien's first documentary Charles Bradley: Soul of America is a truly funky, modern and inspiring story about Daptone Records artist Charles Bradley's ascension to worldwide recognition and success in the face of great adversity, heartbreak and perseverance. The same deeply felt soul that is so prevalent in Bradley's debut album No Time for Dreaming is mined by Brien's documentary; a real feeling of soul that Bradley exudes in his amazing music and his explosive stage performance.

Bradley's story begins as a 62 year old James Brown impersonator discovered by Gabriel Roth and Neil Sugarman of Daptone Records, famous for catapulting Sharon Jones into the limelight and recording Amy Winehouse's most acclaimed album Back to Black. We catch up with Bradley roaming the same Brooklyn and Bed-Stuy neighbourhoods of New York that he grew up in, doting on his feisty old mother, dodging the violence and depression of the building projects, hoping and praying that his record finds an audience and finally breaking into the music business after years of exploitation and bad luck.

Poull shoots with a sharp eye for framing, colour and objectivity, letting Bradley tell his life's story on his own terms and letting powerful, crisply edited music sequences play on. Described by his songwriting partner, producer and recording engineer Tom Brenneck as one of the "greatest story tellers he's ever met", Bradley's many, sometimes humorous, sometimes heartbreaking tales are rendered by Brien as memorable reenactments; a fresh visual approach that at times feels like a music video, but leave indelible emotional impressions, bringing us closer to the man.

I've been a fan of Charles Bradley's music for sometime now and have nothing but respect and admiration for him. One of the final tracks off his album, called "Why is it So Hard?" is a raw and moving song about growing up and having to fight everyday just to survive. I think the reason why Charles Bradley's music and story connects with such a broad base of people is because it touches on the nerve of so many who know what it's like to feel loss and the biting anxiety of what lies ahead in life. It's also the reason why we gather to see films and documentaries: to be collectively inspired and remind ourselves of the perseverance of the human spirit. Charles Bradley: Soul of America is an instant classic and a must see for lovers of inspirational urban documentaries and soul and funk music.

Hot Docs 2012 - Capsule Reviews - 04/30/2012

Tchoupitoulas (Ross Brothers, 2012) ***

Bill and Turner Ross's second documentary feature, Tchoupitoulas, is an evocative, immersive portrait of New Orleans, seen through the wide eyes of a band of curious youth who venture across the river into the bright lights and sounds of the city for a dreamlike night of unexpected adventure. Led and narrated by the charming, overly precocious eight-year-old William with his two brothers and dog Buttercup along for the ride, the film adheres to an abstract, roving, tightly framed aesthetic that yields an almost childlike-wonderment at the endless stream of musicians, quirky drunkards and lovers that cross their path.

The Brothers Ross skillfully weave in tangents that expose the seedy, sexy underbelly of NOLA nightlife, serving as a thought-provoking counterbalance to the naive, superficial journey of the boys: We peer in on burlesque artists literally from behind a curtain, a group of transvestites belting out "Proud Mary" in a small dive bar and even jump on the stage for a grimy after hours blues show. The film takes a fascinating and dark turn as the boys miss their ferry back home, making for a satisfying narrative arc including the exploration of an abandoned cruise ship. Tchoupitoulas might feel a tad too wavy and empty for viewers looking for a more cohesive structure, but those interested in a visually compelling, intelligent journey of NOLA at night will find themselves engaged completely.

McCullin (Morris, 2012) ****

A searing, sobering look at the 30+ year career of Don McCullin, a world renowned war photographer, who ironically hates the moniker "war photographer". The first documentary feature by Jacqui Morris, a producer/director who initially started her career in film as an assistant to McCullin, the film deftly handles the photographers exploits into some of the most urgent humanitarian disasters and war zones of the 20th century. Morris interviews McCullin at his home during a wintry month in the English countryside and manages to purge shockingly vivid memories from her subject, taking us from his initial beginnings as a gruff amateur taking pictures of roughnecks in the bad side of London, to assignments in Berlin, Cyprus, Vietnam, Biafra, Cambodia and Beirut.

Morris pulls no punches here, relying on the stark, visceral humanity evoked by the sometimes violent, shocking images captured by McCullin; the edit is tight and unobtrustive. McCullin is our guide, but perhaps what is most compelling about the way he tells his story is the humility and self-deprecation about his unrelenting dedication to his subjects and the moral quandries inherent in the grey zone of journalistic ethics that one inevitably finds themselves in a war zone. One of the most pleasant, lingering surprises of this year's Hot Docs.