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>> Bob Dylan, Guy Maddin, David Lynch,
Brian De Palma and more from
the 36th Festival du Nouveau Cinema

by JASON BOGDANERIS,
HILLARY BRENHOUSE,
MALCOLM FRASER,
MATTHEW HAYS
and MARK SLUTSKY

I’m Not There

It seemed the strangest announcement in recent film history: Bob Dylan had given his stamp of approval to a film inspired by his life, brought to you by none other than queer auteur Todd Haynes. It’s an epic rock odyssey, and the film’s central conceit—Dylan is portrayed by six different actors—is also its riskiest element. I’m Not There is wild, but also wildly uneven. Cate Blanchett delivers the finest moments as Dylan in the ’60s, while Richard Gere’s moments as the rock icon are merely confusing. I’m Not There is sure to inspire one thing: an incredibly diverse series of responses from Dylan fans and Haynes groupies. (MH)

My Winnipeg

Director Guy Maddin made this film for the Documentary Channel, and he calls it his first doc, though the definition here is definitely elastic. It’s actually a brilliant journey into Maddin’s memory and the mythology of his hometown, a strange and consistently hilarious fantasia of a partly imaginary city. Describing it any further would spoil its many wonderful surprises. It’s all in black and white, of course. Don’t miss this; it’s probably the best English-language Canadian film of the year. (MS)

The Bodybuilder and I

PUMPED POP: The Bodybuilder and I

Meet Bill, a once flabby, workaholic lawyer and absent father who sacrificed everything to become a competitive bodybuilder. In his exceptionally brave, brilliant debut, director Bryan Friedman follows Bill—the 59-year-old muscleman squeezed into a Superman Speedo and also Bryan’s own estranged dad—as he prepares for his last national bodybuilding contest.

Between self-tanning sessions and choreographed flex routines, Bryan attempts to reconnect with his father and discover why, these days, he feels like “a ghost of a man.” This unflinching documentary is honest, but never overly dramatic, poignant, and at the same time unbelievably funny. Masterfully crafted by a remarkably likeable guy. (HB)

Redacted

ANGRY ABOUT IRAQ: Redacted

Brian De Palma’s latest is a brutal return to form for the director. Here, he takes a bare-bones budget (by Hollywood standards, anyway), some digital cams and an unknown cast, and creates an Iraq War fiction clearly inspired by the case of a 15-year-old Iraqi girl who was raped and murdered by U.S. soldiers. This is a devastating film, pushing the envelope of the horrors of war, intentionally. De Palma is clearly furious about the invasion of a country that had nothing to do with 9/11 and had no weapons of mass destruction. Not everything about Redacted works—in particular, some of the performances are a bit amateurish—but De Palma’s heart is in the right place. (MH)

You, the Living

The first film in seven years from Swedish director Roy Andersson, the creative mind behind the incredible Songs From the Second Floor, offers much of the same: scenes made up of impeccably composed single shots that often end in strange or grotesquely funny punchlines. Though not as consistently mind-blowing as Songs, You, the Living features a few set pieces that rank among the most memorable movie moments of the year, and some of the biggest laughs. Screening only with French subtitles. (MS)

Berliner Reigen

This collection of short linked vignettes features young Berliners as they manoeuvre themselves in and out of each other’s pants. It uses a Slackers-type structure, with characters hanging around for a couple of scenes and then disappearing. Covering the spectrum of relational dynamics from hook-ups to marital malaise, it presents a very focused and consistently engaging spectacle featuring people and situations surrounding the sex act that are instantly recognizable. For a film that never spends more than 10 minutes establishing any one character, it’s remarkably effective. (JB)

Lynch

Those still dreaming of Blue Velvet have reason to rejoice: here’s a feature-length doc showing us behind-the-scenes glimpses into David Lynch—arguably the strangest auteur America has ever produced—as he creates his latest opus, Inland Empire. Lynch is typically obstinate about actually answering a question, but I love the scene where he has a minor tantrum. Suffering, he says at one point, is not something that makes an artist better. Rather, artists should live in complete comfort so they can get in touch with their inner creative spirit more easily and rapidly. The film, sensibly, doesn’t try to “solve” the enigma of Lynch, but rather lay the questions surrounding his creative processes bare. (MH)

Persepolis

Marjane Satrapi’s animated adaptation of her acclaimed graphic novel memoir lives up to the original’s honest expressiveness. The story of her adolescence in Iran (with a few years in Europe) during the Islamic Revolution and the Iran-Iraq War, Persepolis is funny and often touching, a crucial, humanizing look at a country many douchebags in power would like to bomb right now. Highly recommended. (MS)

Pretty in the Face

A barebones, and ultimately uninspiring, look at two individuals linked by their feelings of mediocrity. Maggie, a homely twenty-something suffering through her lack of self-image, and Daniel, an overweight young teen who resents his mother for being appallingly obese, help each other cope with confusion surrounding sexual curiosity and personal integrity. The acting feels contrived, the dialogue exceedingly tired and the quality of the film itself is pitiful. Nate Meyer attempts to throw in a few dramatic twists, but his characters are so flat that you won’t empathize with a single one. All together, it plays like some perverted adolescent experiment that Meyer shot in his basement. (HB)

The Colony

FNC has long done a fantastic job of showcasing excellent short work, and this year, audiences would do well to catch The Colony, Jeff Barnaby’s brutal and gritty glimpse into the life of one Mi’kmaq native. Named Maytag (portrayed superbly by Glen Gould), this addict finds himself in a downward spiral when his girlfriend leaves him for his drug dealer. Maytag descends into a hellish, hallucinogenic haze, convinced the cockroaches in his rotting house had something to do with the break-up. Barnaby is a brilliant storyteller; The Colony will leave you waiting for more from the filmmaker—I, for one, can’t wait to see what he’ll do at feature length. (MH)

Boxing Day

There’s a raw ugliness to this Australian film that works to its advantage but will definitely be off-putting to viewers in varying degrees. Shot on cheap-looking digital video in one long excruciating take, we spend nearly the whole film trapped inside the white-walled home of an ex-con trying to get his life together. Played by Richard Green, Chris is a ball of moaning anxiety who snaps when he discovers harm has come to his niece. It unfolds with an uncomfortably vivid plausibility and conveys a sense of being trapped that extends beyond the outward circumstances of its characters. (JB)

Continental, a Film Without Guns

The feature directorial debut of Stéphane Lafleur, a founding member of long-running local DIY video collective Kino, is a multi-character drama revolving around a hotel in a Montreal suburb, and the resounding effects of a middle-aged man’s disappearance on a loosely linked web of characters whose loneliness drives them to desperate behaviour. The mood ranges from melancholy to bleak, making this far from a feel-good movie, but Lafleur has a sure hand with the minimalist style and low-key emotional atmosphere. Subdued yet self-assured, his refreshingly understated voice makes this more than just a promising debut, but as good as anything on the international arthouse scene. (MF)

Unbuckling My Bible Belt

THE STRANGE SOUTH: Unbuckling my Bible Belt

Montreal documentary filmmaker Patricia Tassinari offers one of the most intriguing docs at this year’s FNC. Here, she follows Montrealer Laura Kathryn Mitchell as she ventures down south to reconnect with her distant family. She can’t quite figure out those who proudly declare that they voted for Bush; who, exactly, are these people? But Tassinari and Mitchell sidestep easy derision of these southern relatives. What emerges is a dimensional, complex portrait of the American South, a mass of contradictions. (MH)

I Love Hip Hop in Morocco

Rappers, DJs and promoters in the democratic monarchy of Morocco are the focus of this doc by American directors Jennifer Needleman and Joshua Asen. The characters speak quite well for themselves, well aware of the complications inherent in being both hip hop heads and practising Muslims. The focus of the film is the preparation, with the assistance of co-director Asen, of the music festival of the title, which attracts international sponsors and the support of the American embassy. You certainly can’t accuse the movie of holding back on the music itself, as the last 20 minutes or so consist entirely of performances at the fest. A smart and thought-provoking doc nonetheless. (MS)

The Festival du Nouveau CinÉma runs through
Oct. 21; for more information see
www.nouveaucinema.ca

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