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TORONTO INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL 2002 (ARTICLE II) Send This Review to a Friend
This year at the Toronto International Film Festival there was a spirit of remembrance for those who perished in the Trade Towers and Pentagon assault on September 11th of 2001, which cast a pall over that year's festival program and interrupted air travel as well. Appropriately, this year's festival included the film 11'09"01, consisting of works by 11 filmmakers, each with a particular perspective related to the attack. The formula called for each film to be 11 minutes, nine seconds and one frame in keeping with the date.
The result, as might be expected from such a collection, was mixed. My favorite section was Samira Makhmalbaf's film depicting a teacher trying to explain about the attack to a group of schoolchildren who can't grasp what she's trying to tell them and whose minds are far from such a concern. Sean Penn contributed a film about a widower living in the Trade Towers area, with Ernest Borgnine cast in the role, but that short seemed more pretentious than effective.
Other participating directors included Ken Loach, Claude Lelouch, Danis Tanović, Amos Gitaї, Shohei Imamura, Youssef Chahine, Idrissa Ouedraogo, Mira Nair and Alejandro González Inárritu. There have been complaints that some of the material was anti-American, but when I spoke to co-producer Jacques Perrin, he denied any such intent and insisted that there was merely an effort to present various viewpoints.
A particularly enjoyable Toronto Festival offering was ROGER DODGER, a charming, amusing and revealing tale involving a teenager's request to his womanizing uncle to show him how to get girls and loose his virginity. Off the uncle and his nephew go into Manhattan at night to accomplish the quest. The joke tinged with sadness is that the uncle's world is collapsing as women find him a turn-off while the innocence of the novice appeals to them.
Campbell Scott gives a fine performance as the Roger, the uncle, with Jesse Eisenberg winsome as Nick, the nephew. Writer-director Dylan Kidd is fortunate to have Isabella Rossellini as the uncle's boss with whom he sleeps on occasion and Jennifer Beals and Elizabeth Berkley as the two key women in the night on the town that illuminates attitudes of women and men. The bright dialogue is candid and explicit. (A full review will appear when the film opens commercially.)
Another favorite from the Toronto grab-bag is ASSASSINATION TANGO, directed by Robert Duvall, who also stars as hit-man sent to Argentina to do a job. His work is in sharp contrast to the personal life he leads in his relationship with a woman and her child whom he loves. While in Argentina, he becomes fascinated with tango dancing and he learns from the beautiful dancer Manuela (Luciana Pedraza). "If I were younger, would I have a chance with you?" he asks her. "You have a chance now," she replies. "Welcome to Argentina." Meanwhile, his hit assignment becomes more complicated and he must use all his wiles to pull off the job and escape. The film is unusual in its celebration of tango mixed with thriller elements, as well as providing a portrait of a man and his life. Duvall is terrific as the star, and as director he tells the story compellingly and straightforwardly.
PUNCH-DRUNK LOVE is a mess of a comedy starring Adam Sandler as a misfit who works in a warehouse. A lot depends on how one reacts to the antics of Sandler as he goes through his goofy paces in this nutty film written and directed by Paul Thomas Anderson. Some of it is funny, but the film as a whole is nowhere near funny enough. The problem is trying to make Sandler seem as both a sympathetic guy and a jerk, and the humor often fizzles. The bright spot is Emily Watson as the love interest, although her talent and luminosity is largely wasted.
Joel Schumacher's PHONE BOOTH is a well-made but gimmicky suspense film with an odd angle. Colin Farrell plays an obnoxious press agent who'll lie and cheat and take advantage of anybody in his business dealings, as well as cheat on his wife. Suddenly his life is on the line. A Times Square phone booth turns into his prison. A voice on the other end of the line tells him that if he leaves the booth he dies. There is a marksman positioned to shoot and we see his handiwork. The guy isn't kidding. The publicist's nasty ways are coming home to roost as his nemesis makes moral demands as the price for survival. Tension mounts steadily as the situation escalates. The problem is that one is hard-pressed to feel any sympathy for the man on the spot. He's such a louse that one doesn't care what happens despite the thriller elements. Otherwise, it is very well done.
A much more meaningful work is Rebecca Miller's PERSONAL VELOCITY, a beautiful conceived collection of three stories about different women, one a mother facing a difficult life living in a trailer in New York's Catskills and having to deal with an abusive husband; another about a cookbook editor at a publishing house, and the final story about a woman who is on the run and encounters another woman with problems when she gives a lift to a hitchhiker. Three actresses turn in excellent performances--Kyra Sedgwick, Parker Posey and Fairuza Balk. "Personal Velocity" is a sensitive film about women and issues facing women. There is nothing preachy about it; the strength lies in its artistry.
Among the numerous films from France was Claire Denis's VENDREDI SOIR (FRIDAY NIGHT), based on a novel by Emmanuelle Bernheim. Denis's mode of filmmaking rests heavily on saying as much as she can visually, with a minimum of dialogue, and that's the case here as she reveals what's on the mind of a woman who leaves the apartment from which she is moving and gets caught in a Paris traffic jam. Laure (played by the visually fascinating Valérie Lemercier) lets her mind wander during her frustration. There is a sizzling encounter with a stranger (Vincent Lindon). Does it really happen, or is it her fantasy? Denis gives us a tour de force with her tour of thought and compels us to wonder what's real and what's not. But does it matter? This is a demanding film for those who enjoy being taken on a slow journey unlike a typical action-filled story.
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BED has been a big hit in Spain, and it is easy to see why, although the comedy is on the thin side. Directed by Emilio Martίnez-Lάzaro, the film is a jaunty look at love entanglements and jealousy and presses lots of buttons that will amuse a contemporary audience. Besides, the story is framed as a musical as actors break into song and dance. But this is very light fare.
There has been a trend lately to examine the life of Adolf Hitler, as revealed for example, in museum exhibitions dealing with Hitler's early efforts as an artist. That period in Munich is the core of MAX, in which John Cusack plays Max Rothman, a Jewish art dealer who befriends the young Hitler (Noah Taylor) and examines his art. Hitler is very frustrated at his lack of recognition and opportunity and is shown gravitating toward political fanaticism. The art that finally impresses Rothman is Hitler's design of the visual elements of the new society he wants to create--essentially his visual blueprint for what became the Nazi era. Just as they are to meet, Rothman becomes a victim of anti-Semitism and the meeting that would have given Hitler the show he has sought doesn't occur. It is interesting, but glib, implying that perhaps the meeting would have changed the course of history. Still "Max" works up a special aura as it tries to see what made Hitler tick.
It was impossible to watch more than a fraction of what was on tap in Toronto. But much buzz was generated around such other films as "Bend It Like Beckham," "The Emperor's Club," "Spider," "The Guys," "The Quiet American, "Talk to Her" and "Rabbit-Proof Fence," to name a few. No question about it. Toronto had an embarrassment of riches. (MORE TO COME)
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