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Vancouver International Film Festival When & How available from September 24, 2020 at 12pm until 7 October 2020 | VIFF Connect - Virtual Cinema Vancouver International Film Festival (VIFF) closed its 39th edition after streaming into more than 10,250 households across British Columbia this year. A new digital format was offered for the first time with events over this year’s 14-day online-primary festival on the new VIFF Connect streaming platform. The following awards were given for excellence in filmmaking. CANADIAN AWARDS Sea to Sky Award
presented by TELUS: $20,000 cash prize. Best BC Film Award
presented by Creative BC and Company 3: BC Emerging Filmmaker
Award presented by UBCP/ACTRA & William F. White International: Best Canadian Film
presented by the Directors Guild of Canada: Emerging Canadian
Director: Best Canadian Documentary
presented by the Rogers Group of Funds: Best Canadian Short
Film: Best BC Short Film
presented by TELUS STORYHIVE: IMPACT AWARDS VIFF Impact Award
presented by the Lochmaddy Foundation: Rob Stewart Eco
Warrior Award presented by RBC and Cineplex: VIFF AUDIENCE AWARDS Most Popular Canadian
Narrative: Most Popular Canadian
Documentary: Most Popular International
Narrative: Most Popular International
Documentary: VIFF IMMERSED AWARDS Cinematic Category:
Documentary Category: Animation Category:
Audience Award
determined by votes cast on the VeeR VR platform: VIFF Immersed Volumetric
Market (Microsoft Mixed Reality Capture Studios Special Prize)Winners:
A Vocal Landscape by Omid Reviewer John Jane
France/Belgium, 2020, Dir. Benoît Delépine & Gustave Kervern, 106 min In French with English subtitles Benoit Delepine and Gustave Kervern’s digital-age satire, much of which is outrageous physical comedy, focuses on three middle-aged neighbours living in quiet suburb of Hauts-de-France. Each of them are having to deal with circumstances outside of the struggles their limited tech savvy are causing. Marie (Blanche Gardin), is separated from her husband and teenage son, and isn’t managing the single life that well. She medicates her misery by going out and over indulging in alcohol. While in such a state of inebriation, she picks up a fellow barfly (Vincent Lacoste) and winds up being on his sextape. She gets blackmailed 10,000 Euros, money she has no chance of raising. Christine (Corinne Masiero) lost her job binge-watching serialized television and now makes a living as a ride-share chauffeur. Despite her best efforts or perhaps because of them she is getting low customer ratings. Lonely widower Bertrand (Denis Podalydès) has two problems. Both related to the abuse of technology. His daughter is the victim of school cyber-bullying and Bertrand is desperately trying to find out which of her fellow students are behind it. Bertrand also is indulging in too many intimate conversations with a Mauritian based telemarketer named Miranda and subsequently making too many unnecessary purchases. Delepine and Kervern’s
keen satire primarily targets big tech corporations for their part in
addiction to technology and its negative impact, it also takes a well
aimed swipe at France’s gig economy and its disillusioned working
class.
Iceland, 2020, Dir. Jóhann Jóhannsson, 70 min Icelandic Jóhan Jóhannsson’s first directorial effort (and regrettably, his last) is presented as a futuristic message from a civilization millions of years beyond our present. Voiced over by Tilda Swinton, an unseen narrator, she delivers the adaption of Olaf Stapledon’s similarly titled novel with the same tenebrosity as Jóhannsson’s stark images. Despite the film’s futuristic tenor, its aim is a history of humanity from now until the last human species become extinct in a couple of billion years. During the film’s
entire seventy-minute duration, nothing ever moves. No living thing
is caught on Sturla Brandth Grøvlen’s camera. At one point,
I thought we were just gazing at a series of monochrome still frames,
but in fact, the camera zooms in and out over bleak monolithic structures.
Jóhannsson’s score, somehow a blend of traditional and
avant garde orchestrations, is appropriately moody and in certain
passages strikingly epic. But that’s not enough reason to watch.
If you’re looking for a cure for insomnia – well, that might
be a better reason.
Spain, 2019, Dir. Nuria Giménez, 74 min No dialogue, English subtitles Director Nuria Giménez has painstakingly constructed a visual illusion in this oddly titled film. Watching the film was like being invited to look at an hour-and-a quarter of a stranger’s home movies without being invited to their home. Giménez had come across several reels of 16mm film that belonged to her grandparents, Frank Lorang and Ilse Ringler. She obviously thought it worthwhile sharing, just as long as she was able to cobble up a romantic fictional story to tailgate the film footage. There is no dialogue heard to match the moving lips seen throughout, so Giménez has developed a first person journal on behalf of Vivian Barret, a fictitious character who is placed at the centre of the director’s subterfuge. Vivian Barrett is an elegant middle-age woman privileged to travel extensively (usually) with her Husband Léon to some pretty exotic locations: a winter villa on Lake Geneva, a ski lodge in the Swiss Alps, Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, a bullfight in Spain before heading to New York, Los Angeles and Las Vegas in the United States. A curious intricacy that heightens the conceit is Vivian’s fascination with Paravadin Kanvar Kharjappali, of whom she frequently offers quotes. Despite having this beautiful name the author simply only exists in the filmmaker’s imagination. This is not to
say that the film isn’t worth seeing. Nuria Giménez has
in her own way created what is an unusual style of storytelling in this
kind of faux documentary, that provides a bonus of a visual historic
cache of the places Vivian visited in the 1950s.
Canada/USA/Belgium/UK/Switzerland/Kenya/Spain/Australia, 2020, Dir. Joel Bakan and Jennifer Abbott, 107 min In English & Spanish with English subtitles As its title suggests, Joel Bakan and Jennifer Abbott’s new socio-political documentary is a follow-up to their 2003 documentary The Corporation. Predictably, the film incisively demonstrates that the situation has only worsened in the intervening seventeen years. Of course, we have had the subprime mortgage scandal when banks sold too many mortgages the secondary market, natural disasters triggered by accelerating climate change, not to mention the rise (and hopefully soon to be realized fall) of populist politicians like Donald Trump, Jair Bolsanaro and Hungary’s Viktor Orban. A system that is required by law to place profit and substantial returns to share-holders above any social or safety concerns, must surely predicate companies skirting regulations and even breaking laws. Bakan and Abbott’s alarming film goes to lengths to show that industrial leaders may well have sincere beliefs that employee safety should be a prime objective, yet too often fail to act. An example that the directors show is former BP CEO Lord John Browne, who despite stated good intentions, he invoked cost-cutting programs that directly caused tragedies like the Deepwater Horizon oil spill and the Texas City Refinery explosion. Also seen in the film is recently elected, but already seen as a left wing champion, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, who incidentally is the youngest woman ever to serve in the United States Congress, drawing attention to the ‘conflict-of-interest’ loophole that allows politicians to legally hold stock in a corporation, then rescind regulations that help drive that stock up. Another area of private commerce that should cause consternation is the way corporations have surreptitiously taken over what was once the domain of the public sector. And alas, governments have only been too willing to rid themselves of these responsibilities. Institutions like correction services are now privately run so therefore duty bound to turn a profit. Bakan and Abbott’s
documentary uses the last ten minutes to look for hope wherever they
can find it. Though, much like the “unfortunately necessary”
title adjectives – it fails to convince.
USA/Canada, 1980, Dir. Dennis Hopper, 94 min Dennis Hopper was originally hired just to act in the film, but took over direction a couple of weeks into production. The title is borrowed from the Neil Young’s punk anthem "My My, Hey Hey (Out of the Blue)" from his 1979 album Rust Never Sleeps. Although, oddly, the film was initially released in Canada under the more nondescript title No Looking Back. Nominated for the Palme d'Or at the 1980 Venice Film Festival, the year it was released and two years before The Vancouver Film Festival was founded. Linda Manz was just 18 when she played the tough and streetwise (probably) 14 year-old Cebe. Her tour-de-force performance has been the criterion for other young female actors. On screen for almost the entire ninety minutes, she is the heart of the film and even hold her own against seasoned actors like Hopper who plays her wayward father and Sharon Farrell who plays her drug-addicted mother. Cebe (aka Cindy Barnes) is the only child in a severely dysfunctional family. Cebe’s problems started when being allowed to sit in the cab of her father’s semi-tractor-trailer truck and was instrumental in causing the vehicle to crash into a stalled school bus killing or injuring the students on board. With the film being shot in Vancouver, Vancouverites will be especially interested in seeing their city in a 1980 time capsule. A time when Mike Harcourt was mayor and Robson Street was called Robson Strasse. Vancouverites should also watch out for local musician Jim Byrnes in a small role. Patrons may wonder why a 1980 film is advertized as a North American Premiere. Well, the film was originally shot in 16mm film, but has since been upgraded to 4K. Linda Manz sadly
passed away last month (August 14, 2020) from complications to lung
cancer.
France, 2020, Dir. François Ozon, 100 min In French with English subtitles When 16-year-old Alex (Félix Lefebvre) takes a friend’s small boat on the water and carelessly capsizes, then is rescued by the charismatic David (Benjamin Voisin), it sets off a fast and ephemeral friendship that turns into something much more. Adapted from Aidan Chambers’ novel Dance on My Grave, François Ozon sets his film in the idyllic resort town of Treport, just across the English Channel from Eastbourne. Initially, Alex is guarded over why David, who is a couple of important years older, would be so eager to be ‘friends for life.’ The pair even make a bizarre pact about the survivor of the two dancing on the other’s grave after death. Nevertheless, Alex cannot help being besotted, even becoming obsessed by his new soul mate. That is, until Kate, an English au pair comes between them. François Ozon himself offers the spoiler almost at the beginning of the film, when he tips us off on how the relationship ends. But the film still manages to enthrall, because we want Alex to come out at the other end. The film offers excellent performances from its three young stars. In particular, Benjamin Voisin, who crafts a nuanced realization in the role of the quixotic David and Belgian actor Philippine Velge in her debut film will worth looking out for in future films.
Ozon gets everything spot on to give the sense of being in the mid-eighties.
The film is very French, but the soundtrack is British, with contributions
from Rod Stewart, Bananarama and The Cure that just seem to fit.
USA, 2020, Dir. Deirdre Fishel, 86 min Deirdre Fishel’s well-intentioned cop doc takes viewers on a guided tour of the Minneapolis Police Department with specific focus on five female officers: Alice White, Melissa Chiodo, Erin Grabosky, Catherine Johnson and Janeé Harteau. Because the film was put together in 2019 and released earlier this year, just prior to the death of George Floyd, an African-American man at the hands of Derek Chauvin, a white police officer, it’s difficult to get past the irony of such a project. Of course, one cannot blame Fishel for not having a crystal ball, but her sympathetic treatise of her undertaking may even alienate otherwise neutral observers of the malaise that would seem to exist in big city police forces in the United States (and perhaps elsewhere). All the women studied in this film displayed dedication and professionalism. Though perhaps, the most interesting subject is Janeé Harteau, an openly gay Native American woman and the first female Minneapolis Police Chief. When the film opens she comes across as a popular and progressive leader. Unfortunately, she becomes a casualty in the killing of Justine Damond by Mohamed Noor, a black police officer. She was replaced by a less progressive Medaria Arradondo. Alice White is one of only six black female officers on the force. White awkwardly admits leaning favourably towards people with her own skin colour in blue versus black issues. Rookie patrol officer Erin Grabosky, whose father is a retired cop, is anxious not to appear too empathetic in front of her male counterparts. Commander Melissa Chiodo and Inspector Catherine Johnson are hardened veterans who have worked hard over many years to gain the respect of their colleagues. While Fishel’s
engaging documentary is largely disappointingly benign, it does manage
to underline that police forces in general see themselves primarily
as enforcement and as public protection secondary. In the accidental
conflict between the police and the communities, perhaps it’s
time for both sides to look inward.
Japan, 2019, Dir. SABU, 105 mins In Japanese with English subtitles Japanese cult director Hiroyuki Tanaka, who more often goes under his pseudonym SABU has returned to filmmaking with the multi-genre Dancing Mary. Kenji Fujimoto, played with kamikaze verve by pop singer and actor Naoto Kataoka, is a slacker who turns ghosthunter. He gets help along the way from a high school girl who seems to possess psychic powers (Aina Yamada) and Yakusa warrior (Ryo Ishibashi). Fujimoto is assigned to smooth the way for the demolition of a defunct dance hall and clear the way for a new shopping centre. No one wants the job, least of all Fujimoto, because the place is inhabited by the ghost of Mary a former dancer who is faithfully waiting for her lover to return. Typically for Sabu,
the film’s structure is all over the map. It starts off as a modern
ghost story, but then part way through becomes a black comedy before
finally ending up as a Japanese gangster romp. Sabu would seem to have
many ideas in his head at the same time and wants to explore them all
in the same film. Certainly, at some levels it works and the film does
provide laughs. There is one scene that runs for about ten minutes where
we see two female cancer patients with matching names indulge in persiflage,
goading Fujimoto into searching for his purpose in life. Whilst the
scene appears to be expanded beyond what is valid, it does have a central
bearing on the film’s core theme. And while Sabu’s direction
seems at times to be scattered, it’s nonetheless entertaining.
Italy/Germany/Mexico, 2020, Dir. Abel Ferrara, 92 mins Abel Ferrara’s graphically surreal film about a loner struggling to find purpose should not be confused with Matthew Ross’ 2018 crime thriller which starred Keanu Reeves. The titles are identical, but that is the only commonality. In Ferrara’s Siberia, Willem Dafoe is Clint (though we never hear his name mentioned by another character), a man who lives in a quagmire of self-imposed isolation, both geographically and emotionally. Stationed in an outpost on the very edge of the last place on earth, his only human contact is with Aboriginal locals who only speak what seems a dialect of Yeniseic, a language that the protagonist has no desire to learn for himself. Clint’s physicality is certainly present in this lonely wilderness, but his mind and his soul (if he even has one) is in some kind ethereal entity. Ferrara offers this concept from his own imagination in a surreal progression of dreams, nightmares and hallucinatory visions of family members. Dafoe, who is at his craggiest best, navigates this exploration through his fears and (mostly sexual) desires. For someone who has sought desolation, sex plays a big part of his psyche. The film doesn’t
offer much dialogue and what there is seems truncated, even from its
central character. I find that in general, films that depart from the
conventional narrative into the realm of the surreal need to rely on
good editing and direction, otherwise the audience can get lost. I'm
not sure that film had either.
USA, 2020, Dir. Mary Wharton, 96 mins Mary Wharton’s biopic is in essence a nostalgic documentary about a time that might to some seem like the ‘good times’ compared to what is happening in the present. While Wharton’s film is a documentary, it follows a chronological narrative. Carter’s single term was sandwiched between Gerald Ford’s two and half year term after Richard Nixon resigned in disgrace and Ronald Reagan’s landslide victory. It was the Watergate crisis that opened the door for his election and the Iran hostage crisis that closed the door on his re-election. The first part focuses on how a peanut farmer from Plains, Georgia became the president of the Unites States is arguably the most entertaining part of the film. Carter himself could neither sing nor play a musical instrument, so to call him a “rock ‘n’ roll president” is perhaps a stretch. However, Wharton’s subject did (and still does) have an immense passion for music that embrace all genres including good old rock ‘n roll. The fact that he was able and willing to draw popular musicians like Willy Nelson, Greg Allman and Bob Dylan into his 1976 campaign certainly gave him a head-start on Jerry Brown to tried to counter Carter’s gambit by dragging in the Eagles and Linda Ronstadt into his own campaign. The film includes celebrity interviews with: Bob Dylan, Willie Nelson, Nile Rogers, Gregg Allman, Andrew Young, Chip Carter, Madeleine Albright and Rosanne Cash. I found that the
film made me wistful for a time before globalization and the ‘race
to the bottom’ and definitely before ‘making a country great’
meant screwing everybody else.
Canada, 2019, Dir. Karen Lam, 90 mins I’ve never seen the city of Vancouver looking so gloomy as it does in Karen Lam’s new film The Curse of Willow Song. Filmed in glorious black and white on location in East Vancouver and Langley, Lam’s spooky drama gives the city a dark and hostile profile that is congruent with the storyline. The story revolves around a young Asian woman that has been recently released from prison on parole. Willow (Valerie Tian) can’t catch a break. She isn’t allowed to have contact with her brother, a local gangster, the job she is given as part of social rehabilitation is cancelled and she is living in sketchy digs on Vancouver’s notorious Downtown Eastside. When she has her paycheque stolen, her life reaaly goes sideways. When she applies for the vacant position of a welder, the site manager (David Lewis) makes a clumsy pass at her. On top of all that, she is being stalked by a menacing adversary named Wolf (Adam Lolacher) who is trying to get even with Willow’s brother through hounding her. Through the central
character, the film deals with desolation and racism at varying levels
of malignity. It’s hard to imagine who might want to sit through
this film for 90 minutes. Though, the film does have one thing in its
favour; a superbly nuanced performance by Vancouver actor Valerie Tian
in the titular role. If you saw the film Juno a few years ago,
you could hardly miss seeing her as Su-Chin.
Canada, 2020, Dir. Michelle Latimer, 90 mins When & How available from September 24, 2020 at 12pm until 7 October 2020 | VIFF Connect - Virtual Cinema English, Inuktitut, Cree, Anishinaabemowin with English subtitles Michelle Latimer’s engaging quasi-documentary borrows part of its title from former vice-president Al Gore’s controversial film that also came with the warning that collective humanity has been heading in the wrong direction for a number of generations. Cherokee writer Thomas King is the film’s off-screen narrator who occasionally shows up as a quirky voyeur retelling a piecemeal story about a vain coyote and an all too accommodating duck. The story is presented as a metaphor for the film’s general theme of juxtaposed cultures. The film really begins with a re-enactment of the Battle of the Little Bighorn, commonly known as Custer's Last Stand. The engagement was an overwhelming victory for the Lakota, Northern Cheyenne, and Arapaho against the 7th Cavalry Regiment led by Colonel George Custer. The scene depicts as much as anything else in the film the cultural divide between aboriginal peoples and European settlers. The filmmaker delves the many issues where indigenous lifestyle conflicts with the broader population both in Canada and the United States, though to her credit, she touches lightly on the issue residential schools. If you still don't grasp the point by the film's end, listen to “I’m not the Indian you had in mind” performed by Vancouver based First Nations hip hop duo, Snotty Nose Rez Kids and heard over the final credits. © 2020 John Jane |
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Delete
History (Effacer l'historique) 
Last
and First Men
My
Mexican Bretzel 
The
New Corporation: The Unfortunately Necessary Sequel
Out
of the Blue
Summer
of 85 (Été 85)
Women
in Blue
Dancing
Mary 
Siberia
Jimmy
Carter: Rock & Roll President
The
Curse of Willow Song
Inconvenient
Indian