Reviews of screenings from the 2011 Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival, Toronto, Canada.
The Lumberfros (Dir: Stéphanie Lanthier)
This Québec production from the NFB was simply known as Les Fros in its native province, a slang term for "foreigners". And indeed, it turns out that les fros make up a large proportion of the timberworkers in the northern forests. Clearing underbrush is physically intense work, and not everyone's preference, so it falls to those willing to but their backs into it. There are members of the older generation who still manage to head to the remote forests every year, but more of the workers are new Canadians like Mamadou, an indefatigable and infectiously friendly immigrant from Mali. The film gives us a sense of what life is like in the lumber camp, and focuses on three of the workers to hear their histories and their attitudes toward their work. New works in the rich history of Québec's non-fiction cinema are a welcome presence at Hot Docs every year, and while this is not a classic of the genre, it's worth seeing.
Screens with the short Waidmannsheil: Hail to the Good Shooter (Dir: Klaas Boelen) which takes us into the Belgian forest for a very different pursuit, following the highly-regimented stag hunt. Getting close to nature is a big production for these hunters (which might seem to undermine the point), and the whole event is a mixture of the aristocratic and the barbaric. Viewers of a certain persuasion may feel an innate desire to cheer for the deer, and some might be made uncomfortable about the outcome of the hunt — do note: animals were most definitely harmed in the making of this film. At twenty-six minutes, it's a little slow and less than fully engrossing.
How Are You Doing, Rudolf Ming? (Dir: Roberts Rubīns)
Where does creativity come from? And what happens to so many of us that it ebbs away? As children, almost everyone is an artist and storyteller until those propensities are weeded away. Fortunately, that hasn't happened yet to Rudolf Ming, who comes off like Calvin, Max Fischer and John Waters all rolled into a singular twelve-year-old Latvian boy. He's gifted with a powerful imagination that is put to work in the service of his "movies". These are, in fact, hand-drawn film-strips, projected by Rudolph with dialogue and sound effects. Taken under the wing of an entirely sympathetic local priest (who watches, along with the audience, Rudolph's horror film "Nightmare"), we see Rudolph at work after being challenged with a special commission. We also see him amongst his family and keeping busy with piano lessons and soccer when not devising customized traps and fireworks. It's all expertly woven together in a celebration of artistic passion. A joy to watch and one of my favourites of the festival so far. Highly recommended.
Screens with the excellent short Flying Anne (Dir: Catherine van Campen) which explores the difficulties that an eleven year-old girl can have in navigating the border between expressing individuality and fitting in. Things are a little tougher for Anne due to her Tourette's Syndrome, giving her a series of "tics" (twirling while walking and licking objects), the social implications of which she's acutely aware of. But smart and generally happy, she seems to be accepting herself with admirable grace.
I, Curmudgeon (Dir: Alan Zweig)
Presented as part of the "Focus on Alan Zweig" programme, this film employs Zweig's "look in the mirror" methodology as he asks why he must be so relentlessly negative. The answers include pop culture generally, a sense of one's life not turning out as planned, and the general cruel indifference and injustice of the universe. Plus, of course, most people are obliviously and unthinkingly passive in the face of this. Anyone who has ever burst forth with pent-up anger at any of those things, outraged as much (or more) by the tiny imperfections in the world as the grand failures, will find this film filled with kindred spirits. Why be happy anyway? Should one just shut up and go along to get along? Besides turning the camera on himself, Zweig features interviews with both friends and celebrities, all of whom give wonderfully articulate musings on the topics at hand. Warmly open-hearted grumpy fun.
Open Secret (Dir: Steve Lickteig)
What at first appears to be a bit of a vanity project — an NPR journalist turning his camera on his family — grows in stature as the layers of Lickteig's complicated family history are unveiled. Although he always knew he was adopted, the details of his provenance are hidden from him for the first eighteen years of his life, after which he tries to learn the "why" as much as the details of what happened. Anyone with a family knows that parents and siblings can re-shape the fabric of reality within their memories, and sorting out motivations isn't always easy. In the end, Lickteig reveals a lot about his family, although his closeness to the material — especially his complicated relationship with his eldest sister Joanie — sometimes suggests that he's also implicated in the complex process of reshaping the fabric of the past. An engaging story.
Screens with the eight-minute Something to Tell You (Dir: Pete Gleeson), which shows wheelchair-bound Gary going through the motions of his daily routine as his narration reads an awkward reveal to a romantic prospect. Thought-provoking without being didactic.
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