by Takis Garis (@takisgaris)
Episode 2 - In The Loop(er)
> Toronto is the friendliest breed of big north american cities, prominent and then again private, inviting cheer when it provides with enough opportunity to dive oneself into its quite alleys, for peaceful reflection. When it profoundly states “yours to discover”, it really resonates with me all the above. From the dominant TIFF Bell Lightbox at 350 King Street West, to Ryerson and Thompson Hall plus the prestigious Elgin Theater, this plethora of viewing locations amalgamated with a similar diaspora of film genres, leads to the inevitable assumption that TIFF2012’s motto “you are here” stands for a multicultural, filmic fusion on a singular mission: To unite people’s cinema with mainstream, to release positive energy from any creative force at hand. And this takes us to this year’s premiere gala and the question “Why Looper?”
> LOOPER (7/10)
It was almost a decade ago (finally released in 2006) when Brick became a star vehicle for Joseph-Gordon-Levitt, crafted by the hands of first-timer Rian Johnson, whose sophomore highly anticipated effort (Brothers Bloom, 2009) tanked both artistically and commercially. Btw, I am not exactly aware of which executive’s head gave birth to this brilliant idea, but, by Jove, me thinks nothing could make for a more fascinating sci fi experience than putting rich characterization upfront at the expense of cracking CGIs and non-stop action of the hollowness kind. It paid off immensely with The Amazing Spiderman, which I dare to consider easily more effective than the solemnly authoritative opaqueness of The Dark Knight Rises. Johnson here knows his game, his main star/friend JGL, and above all he’s fortunate enough to inspire (mr action man himself) the die hard Bruce Willis to offer a performance (second this year after Wes Anderson’s Moonrise Kingdom) that is by itself worth the price of admission. There are quite a few scenes that you can feel that Johnson is trying too hard to bring about The Matrix bold world vision, falling short of dramatic depth, however and without a doubt, this solid sci fi reflection on a man’s past and future choices as an ever-elusive karma, is a spectacular food for thought, ready to conquer box office this fall.
> LOOPER (7/10)
It was almost a decade ago (finally released in 2006) when Brick became a star vehicle for Joseph-Gordon-Levitt, crafted by the hands of first-timer Rian Johnson, whose sophomore highly anticipated effort (Brothers Bloom, 2009) tanked both artistically and commercially. Btw, I am not exactly aware of which executive’s head gave birth to this brilliant idea, but, by Jove, me thinks nothing could make for a more fascinating sci fi experience than putting rich characterization upfront at the expense of cracking CGIs and non-stop action of the hollowness kind. It paid off immensely with The Amazing Spiderman, which I dare to consider easily more effective than the solemnly authoritative opaqueness of The Dark Knight Rises. Johnson here knows his game, his main star/friend JGL, and above all he’s fortunate enough to inspire (mr action man himself) the die hard Bruce Willis to offer a performance (second this year after Wes Anderson’s Moonrise Kingdom) that is by itself worth the price of admission. There are quite a few scenes that you can feel that Johnson is trying too hard to bring about The Matrix bold world vision, falling short of dramatic depth, however and without a doubt, this solid sci fi reflection on a man’s past and future choices as an ever-elusive karma, is a spectacular food for thought, ready to conquer box office this fall.
> ANNA KARENINA (6/10)
So, let’s reunite the apostle of period pieces, the iconoclast Joe Wright for a third (thus far, after Pride & Prejudice and the admittedly enchanting Atonement), or even a fourth, fifth time with the chin-up Keira Knightley until kingdom (of absolute bordom?) come! How would this work? Fine? I beg to differ. It’s not that Leo Tolstoy would absolutely detest the modernism of minimizing a perennially scenery chewing epic to the confines of a deserted theater, bringing Chekhov and even the disclaimed (for Tolstoy) Shakespeare in mind. It’s Tom Stoppard’s failure to hold the many story threads together. Consequently, whenever Wright is lensing far and away from his Anna and Aleksei Karenin centerpiece, the elegantly staged stunningly costumed pathos is losing steam. Knightley is in comfortably friendly waters here, so the officially bolding, ascetic as dull husband of Jude Law is stealing the show.
> RUST & BONE (6/10)
After his lofty success in Cannes three years ago with t(he winner of Grand Jury Prize) A Prophet, Jacques Audiard strikes back with another tour de force storytelling, his Rust & Bone, starring the crown jewel of contemporary French cinema, the impeccable Marion Cotillard and the Bullhead (2011 nominated for best foreign picture) sensation Matthias Schoenaerts. The orca trainer amputee falls for the underground boxer and occasional club bouncer and as they sink into an intoxicatingly physical relationship they seek cure in reverse, proving theorem that only real disability is the emotional kind. I can’t expect anything less than an Oscar nom for Marion, who should really be pickier in choosing her Hollywood based roles, or at least stick to what she knows best: acting in most transformative sense of the word.
So, let’s reunite the apostle of period pieces, the iconoclast Joe Wright for a third (thus far, after Pride & Prejudice and the admittedly enchanting Atonement), or even a fourth, fifth time with the chin-up Keira Knightley until kingdom (of absolute bordom?) come! How would this work? Fine? I beg to differ. It’s not that Leo Tolstoy would absolutely detest the modernism of minimizing a perennially scenery chewing epic to the confines of a deserted theater, bringing Chekhov and even the disclaimed (for Tolstoy) Shakespeare in mind. It’s Tom Stoppard’s failure to hold the many story threads together. Consequently, whenever Wright is lensing far and away from his Anna and Aleksei Karenin centerpiece, the elegantly staged stunningly costumed pathos is losing steam. Knightley is in comfortably friendly waters here, so the officially bolding, ascetic as dull husband of Jude Law is stealing the show.
> RUST & BONE (6/10)
After his lofty success in Cannes three years ago with t(he winner of Grand Jury Prize) A Prophet, Jacques Audiard strikes back with another tour de force storytelling, his Rust & Bone, starring the crown jewel of contemporary French cinema, the impeccable Marion Cotillard and the Bullhead (2011 nominated for best foreign picture) sensation Matthias Schoenaerts. The orca trainer amputee falls for the underground boxer and occasional club bouncer and as they sink into an intoxicatingly physical relationship they seek cure in reverse, proving theorem that only real disability is the emotional kind. I can’t expect anything less than an Oscar nom for Marion, who should really be pickier in choosing her Hollywood based roles, or at least stick to what she knows best: acting in most transformative sense of the word.
> AMOUR (6/10)
This has been the most negative experience so for in TIFF12, owed partly to the inherently huge expectations from the Austrian grandmaster Michael Haneke. Amour is Cannes2012 winner of Palme d’Or and the frontrunner in this year’s Oscar race for best foreign language film. This said, I am still not convinced about the film’s idiosyncrasies, or to put it bluntly enough, I don’t feel amour when I don’t see one. Being more than familiar with stroke sufferers and Alzheimer’s patients in my domestic environment, I don’t see Haneke to direct his elderly pathos between two octogenarians, retired music teachers in defense of love, quite on the contrary: Sickness brings escalating misery, horror, lunacy, justifies murder even. Moralizing is obviously beyond me, but I can’t turn a blind eye to the fact that Haneke consistently avoids catharsis to promote decay, deformity. To bear with one’s slow descend to annihilation is mercy, not love. Haneke, in his obvious effort to inject tenderness and pure emotionalism, is betrayed by his own inability, stranger to his misanthropic microcosmos, to see purification in altruism. So his preferred plotting devices appear more as a machination, a shock pour le shock, rather than an elegy for love. Certainly Haneke understands evil (Dog Days, Funny Games, Cache, White Ribbon), however seems like the purity of Love still mystifies him. Putting aside my disappointment from Isabelle Huppert’s most insignificant performance ever, as the couples’ worrying daughter, I admired Emmanuelle Riva’s (Hiroshima Mon Amour) fearless exposition in a tremendously demanding role of the dying wife, followed by Jean Louis Trintignant’s complex turn as the maliciously hurt husband.
This has been the most negative experience so for in TIFF12, owed partly to the inherently huge expectations from the Austrian grandmaster Michael Haneke. Amour is Cannes2012 winner of Palme d’Or and the frontrunner in this year’s Oscar race for best foreign language film. This said, I am still not convinced about the film’s idiosyncrasies, or to put it bluntly enough, I don’t feel amour when I don’t see one. Being more than familiar with stroke sufferers and Alzheimer’s patients in my domestic environment, I don’t see Haneke to direct his elderly pathos between two octogenarians, retired music teachers in defense of love, quite on the contrary: Sickness brings escalating misery, horror, lunacy, justifies murder even. Moralizing is obviously beyond me, but I can’t turn a blind eye to the fact that Haneke consistently avoids catharsis to promote decay, deformity. To bear with one’s slow descend to annihilation is mercy, not love. Haneke, in his obvious effort to inject tenderness and pure emotionalism, is betrayed by his own inability, stranger to his misanthropic microcosmos, to see purification in altruism. So his preferred plotting devices appear more as a machination, a shock pour le shock, rather than an elegy for love. Certainly Haneke understands evil (Dog Days, Funny Games, Cache, White Ribbon), however seems like the purity of Love still mystifies him. Putting aside my disappointment from Isabelle Huppert’s most insignificant performance ever, as the couples’ worrying daughter, I admired Emmanuelle Riva’s (Hiroshima Mon Amour) fearless exposition in a tremendously demanding role of the dying wife, followed by Jean Louis Trintignant’s complex turn as the maliciously hurt husband.
gaRis
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