9-11-03
Up and at 'em! With only two days left, it's time to cram in as many
movies as possible before the fest closes for another year...or before
I collapse from sheer exhaustion.
Michael Winterbottom's sci-fi-esque drama Code 46 kicked off my
day. The screening was at Roy Thomson Hall, and anyone who's ever
watched a film there will tell you: it's not really an ideal screening
venue. It's big and airy and curvy. It's where the Toronto Symphony
plays. It has beautiful, polished hardwood floors throughout and
there's nary a spitball nor popcorn kernel nor tattered seat in the
entire place. It's spotless. Pristine. But it's a good ten-minute
subway ride from the rest of the Festival Village, and it's where the
hoity-toity folks go to attend the $26-a-ticket gala presentations.
But, apparently due to some kind of special projection system needed
for the film, it's where Code 46 screened this morning. (Note:
there are never daytime fest screenings at this venue.) I climbed into
my seat in one of the world's longest rows (it snaked around the entire
rear of the main level and must have contained at least 50 or 60 seats
in an unbroken chain) and watched as the unusual film unspooled.
The story is set in a future where, it seems, everyone speaks a global
language that is made up of fragments of existing languages. French
words are sprinkled amongst Italian and English, with some Spanish
thrown in alongside your Asian language of choice. Individuals must
have "papelles"—which are kind of like all-in-one medical and travel
passports and permits—in order to move from one city to another. An
investigator (Tim Robbins) with special intuitive skills
(courtesy of an "empathy virus") is sent to probe the origins of a
series of counterfeit papelles, and his work leads him to a young woman
(Samantha Morton) with whom he develops an odd little romance.
I have to admit, I'm not entirely sure what the movie was really about.
There's a subplot about genetics, and a Code 46 violation is some kind
of illegal activity involving people who shouldn't be having sex having
sex. It's very moody and atmospheric and there are some really lovely
sequences, but overall the story left me more confused than contented.
My next film of the day, the stellar Swedish drama Evil,
provided me with one of the funniest moments of this year's festival.
When lining up for any film at the Toronto Film Festival, ticketholders
are often directed to the appropriate lines by festival volunteers
bellowing instructions. We're sort of herded like cattle and we always
fall into place like the dutiful and obedient moviegoers we are.
Well, as I arrived to see Evil, one of the volunteers was
actually yelling, "Evil ticketholders, please line up against
the wall! This line is for Evil ticketholders!"
Hee!
The film was powerful and actually provoked a visceral reaction from
the audience. Set in the 1950s, it follows a bullied (by his
stepfather) teenage bully named Erik (Andreas Wilson), who's
kicked out of his high school for fighting and sent to a prep school to
reform. Once there, he decides that he will not use violence, ever or
at all. He'll direct his attention to his schoolwork and athletics and
resist the urge to lash out with his fists. Of course, Erik's barely
settled in when he inadvertently irks the school's snotty,
ascot-wearing upper-crust students, who then embark on a personal
mission to make his life a living hell... thereby soundly testing his
well-intentioned-but-now-decidedly-unwise, new non-violent approach to
living. Brutal and moving at the same time, the movie contains more
than a few gasp-inducing moments (as I said to my friend Angela later,
"Poop is tossed at one point!") but also boasts an outstanding
performance by its understated lead actor.
[By the way, the visceral reaction I described refers to the audience's
DESPERATE need for Erik to break his vow and beat the living snot out
of his tormentors.]
Too bad I can't lavish the same kind of praise on The Singing
Detective, the much-ballyhooed surrealist-musical-comedy starring
Robert Downey Jr. as the titular gumshoe, who's actually a
psoriasis-ridden (pretty!) author living a dual existence in reality
and the fantasy world of his novels. The film has an all-star cast that
includes Mel Gibson, Robin Wright Penn, Katie Holmes and Adrien
Brody, but I was bored. Just... bored. The story didn't engage me
and I started thinking of places where I could grab dinner before
getting in line again. Then, as I contemplated walking out, I
witnessed, oh, about two dozen other people walking out before
me. And I know they were leaving for good because they were walking out
in pairs or groups and taking all their belongings with them.
So I didn't really feel too bad when I did the same. Again, I gave the
movie a good hour to pique my interest, but it never really grabbed me.
My last film for the day was Prey for Rock 'n' Roll, the Gina
Gershon girls-in-a-band drama about a 40-year-old rock/punk singer
clinging to her dreams of being a musical superstar. I have to confess
that I *love* chicks-in-bands movies. I loved Josie and the
Pussycats, Georgia and even Justine Bateman's ill-fated big-screen
venture Satisfaction. I own the soundtrack, people.
So it should come as no surprise that I thought this one kicked ass.
Gershon does all her own singing in the film, and rocks out on the mic.
Her bandmates are Drea de Matteo (The Sopranos), Lori Petty and
Shelly Cole (Gilmore Girls) and all are entirely convincing as
musicians (i.e., they look like they actually know what they're doing
onscreen). The story and its execution might not be groundbreaking or
terribly original (struggling band tries to overcome assorted
obstacles), but that didn't matter to me. It was fun and it was
gloriously LOUD!, making the most of the Uptown 1's sound system. The
floors were vibrating and I felt kind of bad for the folks in the
downstairs cinemas. I imagined them trying to watch some quiet,
thoughtful film from a distant land and having punk music thumping
through the ceiling from above.
Tomorrow is the second-last day of the festival, and I'm anticipating a
fairly subdued atmosphere. Screenings are, once again, getting emptier
(I think Prey was just barely 2/3 full) and folks are getting
worn out.
We're all blissfully happy, mind you, just tired.
CELEBRITY SIGHTINGS: Nary a one. I think they've all left. The festival
front-loaded all the big, star-studded films again this year, so we're
now left with the foreign-film galas.
LINE BUZZ: The German reunification comedy-drama Goodbye, Lenin!
has been getting a lot of favorable reviews from festgoers, as has the
Errol Morris documentary The Fog of War.
— Vickie
