Weekly round-up

Audacious originality, Broadway confessions, sexual tension in the workplace and a dorky dreamer

ORIGINAL ODDITY: Carcasses

by MALCOLM FRASER,
MARK SLUTSKY and
CHRISTOPHER SYKES

Carcasses
Local critic-turned-filmmaker Denis Côté keeps busy, cranking out four features in the last five years. His boldly minimal and ambiguous films recall a lost golden age of art cinema, as though the widespread cultural dumbing-down from mega-blockbusters, rampant anti-intellectualism and ADD never happened. His latest, a truly bizarre amalgam of documentary and fiction, focuses on Jean-Paul Colmor, an aging loner who runs a junkyard in rural Quebec and spends his days buying and selling rare auto parts.

At first, the film seems to be little more than a straight depiction of Colmor’s day-to-day life. A few moments are memorable—a little car absurdly loaded down with planks of wood, a shot from below revealing that not only the walls but the ceilings of Colmor’s house are covered in obscure hardware, Colmor cheerfully describing his daily routine in microscopic detail—but regular attention spans, let alone short ones, are bound to chafe at the extreme minimalism in both form and content.

Just when you’re settling into the glacial pace, Côté throws in an 11th-hour plot twist involving a marauding band of kids with Down’s Syndrome. Like the Cannes jurors who gave Cronenberg’s Crash a “special prize for audacity,” you’re left with a kind of perverse admiration for Côté’s artistic cojones, even if his gambit makes an already dicey structure fall off a cliff. If, like me, you value originality for its own sake and would rather see an ambitious failure than a successful mediocrity, you may appreciate this difficult and provocative oddity. (MF)

ROLE CALL: Every Little Step

Every Little Step
The origins of the Broadway smash sensation A Chorus Line are explored in this documentary by James D. Stern and Adam Del Deo, but even if you aren’t a fan of that musical, or stage musicals in general, you might find something to like in this terrific film.

Structured around excerpts from tapes of a legendary 1974 late-night discussion session with a group of Broadway “gypsies” (background dancers) initiated by choreographer Michael Bennett that became the seed for the show, Every Little Step focuses equally on its ’70s origins and preparations for the 2006 revival.

The filmmakers pay close attention to the revival’s casting process—which lasts an incredible eight months—and tells the stories of the hopefuls looking to score a much-covetted role. It’s a canny way to tell the story of a show that itself is structured as an audition and which was based on the lives and stories of aspiring performers.

Every Little Step nimbly bounces back and forth between Bennett’s tapes, the modern-day auditions and early footage of the original production. The material is emotional and at times bracingly raw. Hearing those stories from that one night of confession and discussion and then jumping ahead three decades to see nervous dancers rehearsing those lines almost verbatim is enough to give you chills. If you’re interested at all in the heady mix of euphoria, vulnerability and terror that goes into any kind of live performance, see this remarkable movie. (MS)

40 Is the New 20
Though it pains me to rag on local features, 40 Is the New 20 is somehow even more off-putting than its awkward title suggests. Written, produced and directed by Montrealer Simon Boisvert, 40 is a futile cri de coeur that over 90 painful minutes manoeuvres between Gen-X relationship disenchantment, workplace sexual tension and jealousy in a crass, post-Sex and the City manner.

Both single and pondering why they’re perpetually in and out of relationships, 40-year-old high school sweethearts Gary (Pat Mastroianni, aka Joey of Degrassi fame) and Jennifer (Claudia Ferri) reunite via the Internet and meet to discuss old times. Mastroianni is a successful stockbroker, but admits, upon seeing Ferri, he’s saddened that university drove the two apart. On a whim, he suggests Ferri apply for a job at his firm—with the thinly veiled ulterior motive of winning her back.

An immediate smash cut (an unfortunate device used numerous times) has Ferri moving into her new desk. When she informs her advancing ex that the chemistry between the two no longer exists, Mastroianni’s pal and office perv Simon (Bruce Dinsmore) suggests spying on Ferri to keep potential suitors at bay while she comes to her senses. This doesn’t end well, natch.

Fortunately, as 40 Is the New 20 was shot in Montreal, I was able to distract myself by naming the different locations in my head. This was, however, the only enjoyment to be had. The dialogue is heavy handed and unintentionally kitsch. Believe it or not, a co-worker is even called a knucklehead. With a straight face. (CS)

Bart Got A Room
Seventeen-year-old Danny (newcomer Steven Kaplan) is a dork. Sweet and low maintenance—as the indie-dork is so often typecast these days—but a dork nonetheless. For the past four years, Kaplan has lived in a nerd microcosm of band practice, anchoring the student-run CCTV and the like.

With prom around the corner, Kaplan would love nothing more than to break out of his shell and take his dream girl to the big show. Melinda (Alia Shawkat of Arrested Development), his equally geeky BFF, just wants Kaplan to ask her so the two can at least have a few laughs.

After some bad advice from a buddy, Kaplan decides to chase after a sophomore cheerleader who he thinks is leading him on. When that falls through and Shawkat is asked by someone else, it looks as though Kaplan’s about to have spent $600 on prom preparations sitting at home.

If you’re curious, the title refers to the school übernerd who’s managed not only a date, but rented a suite at a nearby hotel. However, the character is woefully underdeveloped and in the flick no more than a couple of minutes. With a run time of only 80 minutes, it’s a shame this wasn’t taken further.

William H. Macy and Cheryl Hines star as Kaplan’ s recently divorced parents, and both help to elevate the film beyond the doldrums of the sex-crazy prom flick. In fact, Bart is far more John Hughes than American Pie. Having said that, it’s still a below average comedy with an above average cast. (CS)

ALL FILMS OPEN THIS FRIDAY, MAY 29