Contest: "Don't Think I’ve Forgotten" @ Toronto Reel Asian International Film Festival

Don't Think I’ve Forgotten: Cambodia's Lost Rock and Roll at Toronto Reel Asian International Film Festival

Saturday November 8, 2014 @ 4:00 pm

The internet has expended the reach of crate diggers who have been unearthing musical gems from around the world. But when we get caught up in the exoticism of cool sounds from Somewhere Else we can easily forget the music was recorded by real people caught up in sweeping cultural changes. John Pirozzi's Don’t Think I’ve Forgotten takes one of these rock'n'roll offshoots — Cambodia's explosion into the psychedelic stratosphere in the late 60's/early 70's — and roots it in that country's turbulent history.

Under Westernizing régimes, Cambodia embraced modernism in many forms, but seemed to have a particular gusto for music that slipped in from colonizers France and the U.S.A. The twang of The Shadows was adapted to traditional melancholy songs, as was every new fad right up to blistering psychedelic rock. It all came crashing down during the brutal years of Khmer Rouge rule, when all vestiges of "impure" culture were swept away with genocidal zeal.

Combining new interviews with well-chosen period footage (and not stinting on the music), the film gives us the depth to push beyond experiencing these songs as mere novelties on a foreign-language compilation, and to consider the power of art — and the power of memory — in society.

It is, after all, rock'n'roll, so you should be able to enjoy Yol Aularong, Pen Rân or Liv Thek straight-up. But to know who these people were, what they were singing about and what happened to their country will deepen your appreciation — and honour their memory.

TICKETS + MORE INFO

The film is screening on Saturday November 8, 2014 @ 4:00 pm at The Royal with director John Pirozzi in attendance. Tickets and more info are here.

CONTEST

Courtesy of the festival, I have two pairs of tickets to give away.

To enter, shoot me an email to mechanicalforestsound@gmail.com, with "contest" in the title and your name in the body — or if it's easier, you can enter with a retweet on twitter or a "like" on facebook. I'll randomly draw a winner on Thursday, November 6th at noon.

N.B.: Hitting the "Like" button below is appreciated — and encouraged! — but does not constitute contest entry, given that I have no way of knowing who pressed it.

Reel Asian 2013: Reviews #2

Reviews of screenings from the Reel Asian International Film Festival, Toronto, Canada.

Confession of Murder (Dir: Jeong Byeong-gil, 119 mins., South Korea, 2012)

Fifteen years after a string of murders, a photogenic serial killer publishes a book confessing his crimes. The detective who had just missed out on catching him during his spree is incensed, but there's nothing he can do as the statute of limitations has expired. The killer is free to become a media darling.

I found the first act of Jeong Byeong-gil's Confession of Murder hard to get into, because that premise seemed like the ludicrous contrivance of a scriptwriter's pen. In fact, it turns out that until less than a decade ago, the statute of limitations on murder was indeed fifteen years in South Korea. I think knowing this going in would help with the "buy in" to this action thriller.

After an opening sequence that shows that missed apprehension, we flash forward to find that mean-tempered, foul-mouthed detective Choi Hyung-gu (Jeong Jae-yeong) is still carrying a lot of baggage from the case. The confessional book by Lee Du-seok (Park Si-hoo) is just salt in the wound, especially when he starts making public displays of contrition that play as much like PR ploys as acts of genuine regret. Things get even more complicated when family members of his victims band together to hatch a plan to kidnap him and exact their revenge, turning Detective Choi into a reluctant rescuer. A ratings-hungry TV producer puts them face-to-face on a live news show, when Choi threatens Lee's fame with an unexpected taunt: what if he's not the real killer? The emergence of the secretive J., who knows some unpublished details about the killer's final victim only muddies the water further.

Although the set-up left me dubious, soon enough I was being pulled along with it. The some-scars-never-heal symbolism might be heavy-handed, but the contrivances ultimately aren't any worse than in your typical Hollywood thriller and most of the plot holes are resolved with a consistent inner logic. (One key relationship that is withheld until a flashback about three-quarters through feels like a bit too much of a manipulation, though.)

Oh, there's also some pretty good action sequences here, with not one but two show-stopping car chases. Plus, by the end the film builds up some rather frenzied momentum that leaves little time for doubts. Once you can get over the hump and buy into the premise, this is a satisfying action flick. Clearly director Jeong, in his first narrative feature, has made big strides since the lacklustre doc Action Boys.

Bonus! Director Jeong Byeong-gil will be in attendance at the festival screening.

Screens: Saturday, November 9th, 9:45 p.m. @ The Royal

American Revolutionary: The Evolution of Grace Lee Boggs (Dir: Grace Lee, 82 mins., USA, 2013)

When I wrote up a preview of all the docs that I wanted to see at the festival, I managed to skip right over this one, which is a bit of an orphan at the end of the schedule, playing off in a venue on the other side of town from most of the other screenings. But this may very well be the best thing I'll see at the festival.

Grace Lee's well-constructed doc is both a documentary of its subject as well as a deeper meditation that will resonate with anyone with strong political convictions: What does it mean to be an activist for the very long haul? What is the source of the revolutionary urge, and, ultimately, what is revolution supposed to do?

We explore all of this in the life of Grace Lee Boggs, who we meet at ninety-five years of age, pushing along in her walker through the ruins of Detroit (a sure sign that some big changes need to be made, she says with a slight smile). A Chinese-American woman born in 1915, college educated before being radicalized by the Great Depression, she's lived through the wars and cold wars, through McCarthyism and through the turbulence of the '60's. A Marxist theoretician turned Black Power activist with a thick FBI dossier to her name, Boggs has spent decades pondering the details of revolution and evolution. She's crossed paths with luminaries along the way: her early work was alongside C.L.R. James before moving to then-bustling Detroit to be where the workers were. After marrying James Boggs she moved into the orbit of the nascent Black Power movement, organizing marches for Martin Luther King and conferences for Malcolm X. (He delivered his famous Message to the Grass Roots at one of those.)

A devoted dialectician, Boggs has constantly tested and modified her own theories throughout her life, stressing that ideas become dead when they become fixed. The riots of '67 (or "the rebellion", as she'd label it) gave her much cause for reflection upon her younger ideas of direct action and the use of violence. Concluding that the anger released in that cataclysm didn't push forward the revolutionary cause, she's moved increasingly towards celebrating non-violence (and learning to appreciate MLK in a way she could not during her lifetime).

As her consciousness developed to consider her own role as a woman, as a Chinese American, and as older person, some of the most resonant ideas of her later years arise from her belief in the radical possibilities of conversation (the dialectic in action!) as she comments, "the radical movement has overemphasized the role of activism and underestimated the role of reflection."

As all of this recapping might indicate, I was utterly swept up in this film's story, amazed by Boggs' resilience and highly impressed by the film that Lee has fashioned here. Encountering her on an earlier project where she was looking for other women who shared her name, Grace Lee struck up a friendship with Boggs and has returned to visit her regularly ever since. That (plus a wealth of archive material) gives us a decades-long glimpse at her ideas and her character. In her later years, Boggs has gravitas and is firmly rooted in the strength of her ideas, but never comes across as someone who thinks she has all the answers. At ninety-five, her revolution includes gardens and conversations and a strong conviction that the leadership we need to transform the world is already there inside of us.

This is a powerful portrait and gets a highest recommendation.

Bonus! Not only will director Grace Lee will be in attendance at the festival screening, but it's also free to attend, with tickets available on a first-come, first-served basis.

Screens: Tuesday, November 12th, 7:00 p.m. @ Ryerson University, School of Image Arts (122 Bond St.)

Contest: Reel Asian Film festival

The Toronto Reel Asian International Film Festival

November 5 – 16, 2013

Well, if everything I said in my festival preview wasn't enough to get you interested in heading out to see something at the Reel Asian festival, how about some free movies? Courtesy of the fine folks at the festival, I have pairs of passes to give away to two of the flicks that I'm especially looking forward to seeing.

Silk Road of Pop takes us to the Uyghur province of China — a nation under occupation — and looks at how metal bands and hip-hop crews work with and against traditional music in documenting the country's struggles. Meanwhile, a lot of what we hear in the media here about Pakistan is rather one dimensional, not really hinting at the real complexities — the good and the bad — that people there face. Without Shepherds follows "six very different Pakistanis" (a model and entrepreneur, a touring musician, a truck driver, a former jihadist, a frontier journalist, and a celebrity athlete turned opposition leader) as they experience and try and change their country. Documentaries are meant to broaden our experience of other lives, and it sounds like both of these are doing exactly that.

TICKETS + MORE INFO

Silk Road screens Friday, November 8th, 6 p.m. at The Royal, and Without Shepherds screens Saturday, November 9th, 1 p.m. at The Royal. The sure-fire way to see these is to grab a ticket (which you can do here). But if you want to try your luck, shoot me an email to mechanicalforestsound@gmail.com, with "Reel Asian" in the title and your name in the body — along with which film you'd like to win tickets to. (Feel free to say both, but you can only win once.) Or if it's easier, you can enter with a "like" on facebook. I'll randomly draw the winners on Thursday, November 7th at 2 p.m.

N.B.: Hitting the "Like" button below is appreciated — and encouraged! — but does not constitute contest entry, given that I have no way of seeing who pressed it.

Reel Asian 2013: Preview & Advance Reviews

The Toronto Reel Asian International Film Festival

November 5 – 16, 2013

Given the plethora of local film festivals, it's not surprising that some of them focus very tightly on one thing, whether a genre or topic. But with a geographical mandate as big as the largest of the continents, Reel Asian (now celebrating its seventeenth year), cuts across all of those narrow limits. The fact that you can see popcorn exuberance rubbing up against arthouse austerity and the dizzying imagination-leaps of animé cheek-by-jowl with sobering documentaries makes this one of the more enjoyable of the local film fests. A week of screenings downtown (with most features at The Royal) is followed by a closing weekend in Richmond Hill. Definitely a great opportunity to see some films on the big screen that you might not come by otherwise — and everything in subtitled in English, of course, for those who don't speak the diverse group of languages on the screen.

There's a strong-looking selection of documentaries here, including a troika of pop culture observations on Linsanity, Uyghur rap crews, and the Filipino YouTube star who aspires to be Journey's new lead singer. Also not to be overlooked are the four shorts programmes, which mix all that variety stated above into well-curated selections. All shorts screenings take place in the cozy Jackman Hall at the AGO, two of which as matinées for anyone looking for a good mid-week daytime excursion.

Tickets for most screenings are $12 and can be purchased in advance here.

Just to get things started, here's a couple advance reviews.

Tales from the Dark Part 1 (Dir: Simon Yam/Fruit Chan/Lee Chi-ngai, 114 minutes, Hong Kong)

Although Hallowe'en has passed, the festival's Centrepiece Presentation of this HK horror anthology film will attempt to raise some chills. A triptych of mid-length ghost stories, this will appeal more to genre fans than serve as the sort of film that transcends the standard horror tropes.

Stolen Body is the directorial début of Simon Yam. Yam (perhaps best known to casual fans for Election), also stars as a down-on-his-luck labourer who comes up with a novel scheme to extort funds from the relatives of the recently-departed. After all, he reasons, the greatest horrors he faces are economic — can the notion of ghosts compete with his very real fears of losing what little he has? Yam is engaging as a man that could be slipping into the ghost-realm (or simply losing his grip on sanity), though the piece is somewhat too-stylized and not scary enough.

A Word in the Palm (dir: Lee Chi Ngai) is broad enough to feel like an episode of Goosebumps, with hammy acting and comedically large eyeglasses attempting to distract from a fairly rote ghost story of a jilted high-school swim team member's efforts at revenge from beyond the grave. Everything here is telegraphed pretty unsubtly, so there's not much more to do than watch Tony Leung Ka-fai try and maintain a straight face as a fortune teller on his last day on the job.

Jing Zhe (dir. Fruit Chan) intrigues the most here, although its immersion into the realm of "villain hitting" is a bit confusing at the outset. This ancient form of witchcraft involves a punishment-by-proxy, with a variety of clients coming to a curbside stall by the old overpass to have a likeness of their foes beat by a shoe to rhyming curses in order to bring them low in the real world. That karma can come back even on those powerful enough to smite people's enemies is all that needs to be said here.

Screens: Friday, November 8, 2013, 8 p.m. @ The Royal

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Shorts programme: Counter Move

This screening collects the "Best of Canadian Shorts" at the festival. There's an interesting variety of non-narrative film here, so though this might not be the most populist collection, there's a lot to enjoy.

The best of the bunch — and likely the most crowd pleasing — comes right at the top with The Banquet of the Concubine (dir: Hefang Wei, 12 minutes, Canada, 2012), a gorgeously animated re-telling of an eighth century Chinese story. The Emperor's Number One concubine is having difficulty enjoying her banquet while he's off canoodling with the newest addition to his retinue, and we see that the sweetness of love (or fruit) doesn't always win out in the end. The elongated figures and watercolour washes are visually spectacular and give this the feel of an NFB classic.

A trio of shorts here could function as gallery installation pieces, including the nature choreography of Dafeena (dir: Marlene Millar/Philip Szporer, 5 mins., Canada, 2012) and the blend-in survival strategies of Treasure Hill Camouflage (dir: soJin Chun, 2 mins., Taiwan, 2012). The best of these is Portrait as a Random Act of Violence (dir: Randall Okita, 4 mins., Canada, 2012), which evokes a sense of the uncanny in documenting a creepily kinetic sculpture pulling shards of broken glass into a shattered human figure.

Item Number (dir: Oliver Husain, 16 mins., Canada, 2012) is perhaps the most commanding short in the programme, the screen filled with the magnetic presence of Kirtana Kumar. Two minutes before her performance begins, an actress' inner monologue comes to life — dancing doppelgangers and all! — as the fourth wall is broken in a meditation on the roles she has on stage and in life. The film veers towards winking meta-commentary at a few points, but the close focus on Kumar keeps this grounded.

The fourth wall is broken in a different — and unexpected — way in A Grand Canal (dir: Johnny Ma, 19 mins., Canada/China, 2013), though to say more about how would constitute what might be labelled an "emotional spoiler". In any case, this character study of the director's father, a stoic sailor with a love of pop songs, is a winning biographical sketch as well as a social portrait. What might happen when the "red envelope" money to the local Boss isn't enough seems telegraphed in the father's sad features (well conveyed by Mei Song Shun) with a sad inevitability. Even before Ma confounds our expectations in attempting to intervene in his own story, this is well worth seeing.

Some other personal reminiscences also take different paths to bridge past and present. The multimedia palimpsest collage of Shiro Yagi (dir: Cindy Mochizuki, 12 mins., Canada, 2012) gets across the fragmented sensibility that comes in reconstructing the past but is a bit too busy to connect emotionally. Conceived (dir: Eui Yong Zong, 5 mins., Canada, 2013) is more succinct, using audio interviews with his parents to face some hard truths about the choices they made before he was born — and revealing a bit of an emotional gutpunch that results from lingering on these things. There's more optimism in the straightforward personal documentary approach of My Father, Francis (dir: Casey Mecija, 12 mins., Canada, 2013), which also does a better job of unpacking the layers of meaning in unspoken gestures between a parent and child. A father's hard work as a factory hand is supplemented by his own sideline in crafting "useful" objects from scraps. Besides attempting to bond with him in the making of things, Mecija also shows him that his inventions transcend mere functionality by celebrating them as objets d'art. Local musician Mecija (formerly of Ohbijou, now performing solo and with Warm Myth) crafts a loving portrait here that also hints at the quiet bridges that can be built to overcome the differences between "suburbs" and "downtown", between generations, and between fathers and daughters.

Screens: November 7, 2013, 6 p.m. @ Jackman Hall

Contest: "Tatsumi" @ TIFF

Contest: Tatsumi @ TIFF

Eric Khoo's Tatsumi, which had its local premiere at last year's Reel Asian festival, is returning for a short run at the TIFF Lightbox, January 25-29, 2013. It's specifically recommended to anyone with an interest in manga, documentary, post-war Japanese culture or, well, grimness — but taking the wider view, anyone who wants to be introduced to a master storyteller would do well to check this out. In my original review (read the whole thing here), I said:

This animated biopic recounts the life and times of Japan's Yoshihiro Tatsumi, who was at the forefront of transforming manga from simple kid-centric comics to an artform with both a cinematic visual sweep and a psychological depth to appeal to adult readers. Tatsumi has recalled the story of what he prefers to be labelled "gekiga" in his sprawling autobiography A Drifting Life, which gets bogged down in places with minutiae surrounding Japan's comic-book publishing industry in the 50's and 60's. Although a little unfocused at first (the film launches with Tatsumi's homage to his mentor, manga legend Osamu Tezuka without providing any context), this does an admirable job of winnowing out the extraneous material to get to the heart of the story.

Ultimately, the film's aim to is weave together three mutually-supportive strands: some contextual history about life in postwar Japan, Tatsumi's biography and a selection of his stories. It's that final element that really elevates the film, bringing Tatsumi's clean lines to life in a way that respects his visual style while reflecting and amplifying the historical and biographical themes — and expressing the melancholic despair that underlies them all. Thus "Hell" gives a sense of some of the broader post-Hiroshima political feelings while "Occupied" tells the tale of a struggling manga artist. And toward the end, "Good Bye"'s tale of a superannuated office worker nearing retirement reflects on Tatsumi's own feelings of mortality.

Thinking back on it a few months after the fact, I can definitely say that the animated versions of Tatsumi's stories stuck with me. We're lucky to live in a city where movies like this re-appear after festival screenings, and hopefully word will get out to those diverse groups listed above to see this.

CONTEST

Thanks to the good folks at TIFF, I have two pairs of tickets to give away, good for the screening of your choice.

To enter, shoot me an email (to mechanicalforestsound@gmail.com) with "Tatsumi" in the title and your name in the body. I'll draw two winners on Wednesday, January 23rd.

Reel Asian 2012: Reviews #3

Reviews of screenings from the The 2012 Reel Asian International Film Festival, Toronto, Canada.

Cold Steel (Dir: David Wu Tai-Wai. China/Hong Kong, 2011. 101 mins.)

Screens: Saturday, November 10, 2012, 10:45 p.m. @ The Royal

As an established sub-sub-genre of action films, the "sniper movie" is generally thought to be more sedate and deliberately-paced than most — like its protagonists patiently waiting for that right moment to pull the trigger. This hyper-kinetic WWII flick upends all such expectations, barrelling ahead through its action sequences with blink-and-you'll-miss-it velocity. It tends to pause, however, for counterpoints of languid melodrama, both modes laid on with the same heavy-handedness you might find in a Hollywood summer blockbuster.

Dim-witted farmboy Lianfeng is a crack shot while out hunting, and his skills are enhanced with lessons from a rescued American pilot. That's enough to get him impressed into an elite sniper unit, and soon enough he's fighting against the Japanese occupation and becoming a hero to his townspeople. He's also interested in romancing tearoom owner Yan, a widow coming to terms with the love that she's lost.

There's not much subtlety in either the action or romance scenes, and the thin characterizations are sketched out with a sort of all-platitude approach to dialogue, exacerbated by Lianfeng's penchant for parroting back any perceived words of wisdom he's managed to remember from previous conversations. There's also some interesting kinks in the movie's historicism that seem designed to please contemporary political tastes, including both a thorough demonizing of the imperialistic Japanese as well as a problem-solving Communist cadre that manages to pop up whenever a deus ex machina is required.

The movie reaches for some weighty themes, most centrally the need for soldiers to become emotionally-repressing "cold steel", and how that affects them outside battle, but really doesn't get too far with them. For all that, however, the relentless drive does make this a compellingly-watchable actioner, so it's worth seeing for anyone willing to check expectations of subtlety at the door.

The Woodsman and the Rain (Dir: Shuichi Okita, Japan, 2011, 129 mins.)

Screens: Saturday, November 17, 2012, 4:00 p.m., Richmond Hill Centre For The Performing Arts

When aiming for "heartwarming", it's very easy for a film to miss the mark and get stuck on "cloying" — but that never happens in this modest charmer of a film. Lumberjack Katsu lives a fairly uneventful widower's life: avoiding sweets after lunch, trying to motivate his unambitious son and working in the forest that he's strongly attuned to. When a small film crew shows up to make a zombie movie, he's rather indifferent at first. But when he slowly gets roped into their orbit — from politely helping with a stalled car to acting as an informal location scout — it isn't long before he's shemped-up in makeup and staggering along as an undead extra.

Meanwhile, it turns out that Koichi, a young man amongst the filmmakers that at first seems to be a sullen spare part, is the movie's somewhat reluctant scriptwriter and director. Circumstances soon push him and Katsu into an unexpected friendship. Well, no big surprise: the woodsman helps Koichi find his spirit and strength, which in turn gives Katsu a chance to re-evaluate his broken relationship with his son.

All of this unfolds according to a heartwarming formula as rigourous as the internal logic of, say, a zombie flick, but that doesn't subtract from this film's genuine low-key charms. Foremost among them is actor Koji Yakusho, who animates the stoic Katsu with subtle gestures that speak volumes. As he comes to life — and increasingly drafts his fellow townspeople to help with the production of the film — we see him emerge from the zombie-ish routine he'd been stuck in since losing his wife and start living again.

In the end, this film is as humble and workmanlike — and as likable — as its protagonist.

Reel Asian 2012: Reviews #2

Reviews of screenings from the The 2012 Reel Asian International Film Festival, Toronto, Canada.

Tatsumi (Dir: Eric Khoo, Singapore, 2011, 98 mins.)

Screens: Friday, November 9, 2012, 11:00 p.m. @ The Royal

This animated biopic recounts the life and times of Japan's Yoshihiro Tatsumi, who was at the forefront of transforming manga from simple kid-centric comics to an artform with both a cinematic visual sweep and a psychological depth to appeal to adult readers. Tatsumi has recalled the story of what he prefers to be labelled "gekiga" in his sprawling autobiography A Drifting Life, which gets bogged down in places with minutiae surrounding Japan's comic-book publishing industry in the 50's and 60's. Although a little unfocused at first (the film launches with Tatsumi's homage to his mentor, manga legend Osamu Tezuka without providing any context), this does an admirable job of winnowing out the extraneous material to get to the heart of the story.

Ultimately, the film's aim to is weave together three mutually-supportive strands: some contextual history about life in postwar Japan, Tatsumi's biography and a selection of his stories. It's that final element that really elevates the film, bringing Tatsumi's clean lines to life in a way that respects his visual style while reflecting and amplifying the historical and biographical themes — and expressing the melancholic despair that underlies them all. Thus "Hell" gives a sense of some of the broader post-Hiroshima political feelings while "Occupied" tells the tale of a struggling manga artist. And toward the end, "Good Bye"'s tale of a superannuated office worker nearing retirement reflects on Tatsumi's own feelings of mortality.

It seems that this will most likely appeal to those that already know Tatsumi's work, and perhaps seem like a niche offering for the manga crowd. But Tatsumi is a master storyteller whose appeal transcends such narrow limits, so this might give a push to some new readers. If this does sound intriguing, you should definitely check out the collections issued in North America by Drawn & Quarterly, such as The Push Man & Other Stories and Abandon The Old In Tokyo.

Addendum, January '13: It looks like this will be getting a theatrical run at TIFF at the end of the month (details here) so be sure to head out for your chance to see this on the big screen.

Wolf Children (Dir: Mamoru Hosoda, Japan, 2012, 117 mins.)

Screens: Saturday, November 10, 2012, 8:15 p.m. @ The Royal

Fans of Hayao Miyazaki's animated films will not want to miss this new feature that feels indebted to his work. In fact, with its rural setting and reverence for nature, it feels like Totoro could be just a mountain away. It also features fiercely strong female characters in a villain-free tale that is more of an unusual domestic story than any sort of battle between good and evil.

In voiceover, Yuki recounts the story of her parents' romance, wherein her mother Hana soon discovers that the lone wolf in her university classes has another side to himself. That's not enough to stop the path of true love, but does lead to sadness and confusion after his death when Hana is left in the care of two children who have inherited his shapeshifting werewolf abilities.

Taking the children to the remote mountains not only keeps them away from prying eyes, but gives them a chance to explore both sides of their nature. As they grow older, Yuki is attracted to the human world and new friends at school while younger brother Ame, initially shy and withdrawn, is pulled toward his animal nature after the discovery of his sensei, the last wild wolf who rules over the deepest forests.

All of this is a metaphor for the way that any child has to negotiate their family background to find their own path in life, making this a relatable story about growing up. Despite some hard times (and a few harrowing adventures), it's presented with a general tone of sweetness. But the relationships help to keep things grounded, and except for some overly-contrived drama in the final act, the film feels satisfyingly tethered to real life.

Hosoda's visuals, meanwhile, are generally quite spectacular. Often preferring wide, expansive shots, this should look quite excellent on the big screen (especially in being presented on 35mm). Not a masterpiece, but very much worth seeing for anyone with a working knowledge of Miyazaki looking to expand their reach.

Festival Preview/Advance Reviews #1: Reel Asian 2012

The Toronto Reel Asian International Film Festival 2012

November 6–11, 2012 (Toronto) + November 16–17, 2012 (Richmond Hill)

I had a good time last year at Reel Asian, partially because its mandate has room for a lot of variety. Taking in a not just a wide range of cultures and languages, there's also a big sweep that puts popcorn populism and art-house sophistication side-by-side. That remains in its sixteenth edition, which finds its home once again at the comfy Royal on College, with additional screenings in several venues including Innis Town Hall. The festival also takes the films to the audiences beyond downtown, with a follow-up weekend of screenings in Richmond Hill. Definitely worth heading out to for a chance to see films that wouldn't otherwise make it onto the big screen 'round these parts. All films are offered with English subtitles.

Regular screening tickets are $12, or cheaper with passes, including a $36 4-Pak. Check the festival website for the full schedule and ticket into.

ADVANCE REVIEWS

Stateless Things (Dir: Kim Kyung-mook, South Korea, 2011, 115 min.)

Screens: Wednesday, November 7, 2012, 9:15 p.m. @ Innis Town Hall

Kim's first full-length feature is a complicated construction that forces the viewer to decode its layers. The film appears hands-off and observational at times, but as it unfolds, it increasingly destabilizes our sense of what we have already seen.

We open on the story of Joon and Soonhee, workers at a gas station and refugees from North Korea who are now stuck on the bottom of the ladder in the South. Left to fend for themselves against a harassing bully of a boss, they take an action that will cost them their jobs but give them a sense of the freedom that they see around them, as they go on a touristy trip through Seoul.

The second fork of the story involves Hyun, a young hustler who has a luxurious apartment over the city which comes at the cost of being "kept" by his jealous sugar daddy. Even at the other end of the social spectrum, things aren't easy, and queer life in Korea — although we get a rather explicit view of it here — seems to still be consigned to the closet. Hyun's story is presented in shifting time-fragments as several parallels with Joon's story emerge.

And then, after three-quarters of the film's running time, we get an opening title card — and in a surprising way, both stories come together in an enigmatic final section. As that might hint, the story's construction is far more suggestive than discursive — once the film ended, I actually went back to the beginning and went through it again. And although that enriched the sensation of overlapping layers, it doesn't necessarily allow things to "resolve" in any sort of conventional manner.

All of which will certainly turn off some viewers. I wouldn't recommend this to anyone who wants a straightforward narrative experience — the "plot", such as it is, is rather threadbare in places, with would-be romantic interest Soonhee simply disappearing from the movie, for example. Joon's hardscrabble North Korean exile story brought to mind The Journals of Musan (my favourite film from last year's Reel Asian) which — while grim — follows a more straightahead path that might be worth seeking out to those intrigued by the theme but put off by this film's execution. But anyone willing to engage with symbolism and abstractness will get something here.

Director Kim will be in attendance at the festival, and will be holding an artist talk the morning after the screening.

Daylight Savings (Dir: Dave Boyle, U.S.A., 2012, 73 min.)

Screens: Thursday, November 8, 2012, 5:40 p.m. @ Innis Town Hall

This film doesn't serve so much as a sequel to Surrogate Valentine (which screened at last year's festival) as a further episode in the fictional sorta-alter ego version of singer/songwriter Goh Nakamura. Which is to say that this film stands on its own, even if a lot of little references will be appreciated by anyone who saw the earlier film.

This is certainly of a piece with the earlier work, both in visual style (stylish black + white) and tone. At the outset, things are looking up a bit for Goh, who has both a girlfriend and a song in a heavy-rotation commercial. That the ad in question is for a depression medication seems tellingly par for the course, though, and soon we find out that the romance might not be too long-lived either. ("I don't really know how to talk to girls," Goh says at one point. "I guess if I did, I would have nothing to write about.")

That sets the stage for another episodic roadtrip with the laconic Goh accompanied by a new extroverted travelling partner — here his ex-con cousin Mike. En route to Las Vegas, we get a side-trip to San Juan Bautista (where an incident with a car door that is every guitarist's worst nightmare takes place) and a pause at James Dean Memorial Junction.

The trip to Sin City serves as a chance to set up a casual encounter with fellow musician Yea-Ming (played by Yea-Ming Chen), who comes across as a worthy foil for Goh as well as an intriguing musical discovery.

Like real life, we sorta arrive and depart from things midstream, making this more of a character piece than anything like a conventional romcom. That's entirely to its credit, especially as Goh once again comes across as someone that you'd want to hang out and have a beer with. At one level, this is a minor, low-key film about a minor, low-key man — but anyone who prefers a smart, well-crafted song to a glitzy disposable pop hit should consider this to be the cinematic equivalent.

Further incentive: director Boyle will be in attendance, and gives good Q&A.

Preceded by: Requiem For Romance (Dir: Jonathan Ng, Canada, 2012, 8 min.), an animated short that pairs the audio of a phonecall breakup with animation of clashing kungfu fighters. A meditation on love, cultural acceptance and the artist's life, it effectively uses the disjunction between sight and sounds to be entirely heartfelt without becoming hokey. Nice work, and a worthy hors d'oeuvre for the main feature.

Graceland (Dir: Ron Morales, U.S.A./Philippines, 2012, 84 min.)

Screens: Thursday, November 8, 9:55 p.m. @ Innis Town Hall

Do not come expecting Elvis. The "grace" here hews closer to the Biblical sense, well-suited to a film with an Old Testament eye-for-an-eye sensibility, filled with corruption and hard moral choices.

Congressman Chango suddenly has problems overshadowing the media's interest in his predilection for underaged prostitutes when his daughter is kidnapped. Marlon, his faithful but recently-fired longtime driver, is pulled into the affair when his daughter is taken as well. This sets the scene for a tense thriller that gives the impression that anything can happen — one early incident, so unexpected inasmuch as it would never happen in a Hollywood film, really gives the impression that all bets are off.

Soon, a rumpled and somewhat-honest cop is on the case, but to cover his own skin and hopefully save his daughter, Marlon cannot come clean about how the kidnapping went down. And thus, all in a rush, a deadly game unfolds with several lives in the balance.

Along the way, we catch glances of the state of class differences and rough justice in The Philippines. More specific details would just spoil how this one unfolds, so I shan't say much more, but Morales' quick-moving, well constructed film is definitely recommended. My only caveat is that the film's somewhat salacious use of actors presented as minors may well be offputting to some.

Reel Asian 2011: Sunday

Reviews of screenings from the The 2011 Reel Asian International Film Festival, Toronto, Canada.

Surrogate Valentine (U.S.A., 2011, 75 mins. Dir: Dave Boyle)

Goh Nakamura might have once been a wild man of rock'n'roll. But now, whimsical ringtones notwithstanding, he operates with the sober deliberateness of a lifer trying to get by as a working musician. In this film Nakamura plays a fictionalized version of himself, and every long slog on the highway and every stranger's floor he sleeps on ring with weary verisimilitude. Gigs and the occasional music lesson aren't quite enough to put together a stake for some studio time with a big-shot producer, so Goh reluctantly signs on as a "technical advisor" for a friend's movie. His job is to teach some rudimentary guitar to Danny Turner (Chadd Stoops), a television actor with dubious thespian skills who wants to absorb Nakamura's persona with full-bore Method immersion.

As Goh increasingly realizes that his friend's script is a thinly-veiled version of his own life, he becomes increasingly conflicted, especially as to whether he should help Danny to "get him right" in his portrayal. And all this takes place against the backdrop of Goh's reunion with Rachel (Lynn Chen), an old flame who is also portrayed in the script.

The scenes between Goh and Rachel crackle with the easy chemistry of old friends, and Goh's desire to push things along is palpable. The parts with Danny are more of a mixed bag — played as brash and largely oblivious, a little bit of the character goes a long way, even when we see later in the film that he's trying to do right by Goh. Still, this is a low-slung charmer of a film, and Goh is easy to root for. If things with Rachel don't work out, we're left hoping that at least this might provide him with grist for a knockout song — and like Goh, we can dare to hope that just maybe something more might come of it.

Shot by Boyle in budget-conscious black-and-white, the film looks good and doesn't overstay its welcome with its trimmed-down running time. And Nakamura's music — sounding like Elliott Smith by way of Elvis Costello's folksy side — adds as much as his charming personality. Well worth seeing.

Pearls of the Far East (Canada/Vietnam, 2011, 103 mins. Dir: Cuong Ngo)

If a director's greatest task is to arouse an emotional response in the audience, this film (receiving its world premiere) succeeded like wildfire — inasmuch as I really hated it. This is, of course, an entirely subjective reaction, based on the film's approach and tone rather than the ample technical merit it contains.

A compendium of seven stories by author Minh Ngoc Nguyen, each of these episodes deals with a different form of unrequited love. "Episodes" is an apt term here, as each of these vignettes come close to the heady melodrama of a soap-opera, every gesture heightened and fake-y. Anyone looking for a light touch should move along, as there's not much subtlety on offer here. That starts with the cloying score (which overpowers like someone wearing too much perfume) and continues with the broader-than-broad acting — there's no characters here, just archetypes. And in case you weren't sure why a character is staring wistfully into the middle distance, fear not — a flashback to something that happened on-screen just seconds ago will remind you.

There's no doubt that the film captures the natural beauty of Vietnam. But even that is taken too far, with every immaculately-groomed scene feeling sterile and airless — by the end, I was positively aching to see an empty pop can roll across the foreground or an oil stain on a road. Similarly, it seems that the cast were mostly chosen for pin-up appeal, with several of the male actors looking like Harlequin covers brought to life — most unintentionally hilarious was the always-shirtless Kris Duangphung, projecting like a more-broody, extra-dim Keanu Reeves.

All of which meant that the movie totally failed to connect with me. Others' mileage may vary — it was well received by the crowd at this screening, and I could hear small laughs of joyful recognition at some of the specifically-Vietnamese cultural cues on the screen. But unless the weirdly-chaste fantasy world of romance novels appeals to you, I'd suggest avoiding this one.

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Just a reminder: With the main portion of the "downtown" festival successfully wrapped up, ReelAsian is taking its films to where its audience is, with a weekend of screenings at the Richmond Hill Centre for the Performing Arts. More information here.

Reel Asian 2011: Saturday

Reviews of screenings from the The 2011 Reel Asian International Film Festival, Toronto, Canada.

The Journals of Musan (South Korea, 2010, 127 min. Dir: Park Jungbum)

My undisputed favourite among the films I saw at this year's festival, The Journals of Musan was also pretty bleak, and a bit of a tough slog. The film follows Jeong Seung-chul (portrayed by director Park), a defector from North Korea trying to establish a life in Seoul. Seung-chul is withdrawn and extremely reserved, but it's easy to understand how the daily grind could turn him that way.

It doesn't make it any easier to reach out, however, as we see in his fumbling attempts to connect with Sook-young, a fellow parishioner in his Church. Living at — or below — the economic margins, Seung-chul is employed in the illegal postering industry, which turns out to be more competitive and cut-throat then you could have guessed. Even when he adopts a dog (shades, perhaps, of De Sica's Umberto D.), there's a pervasive sense that things just aren't going to end well, especially when his friend Kyung-chul's hustling starts to catch up to him.

Stone-faced and impassive, Park still manages to convey a surprising amount of emotional expression, while his camera portrays a city that ranges from generic grey to shabby and crumbling (Seung-chul lives near a bulldozed village that seems fated to soon be replaced by more highrises, which already stretch as far as the eye can see). Park also exhibits a sharp eye for composition, with a lot of shots taking advantage of two or three layers of background action. The net effect is to give us a sense of how big this city is, and how small Seung-chul must feel within it.

There are some small flaws. Given its measured pace, there are a few scenes that drag, and although the movie had a convincingly open-ended conclusion, the narrative could as well have wrapped up several scenes earlier. Still, a remarkably-accomplished debut, and a deserving winner of the festival's Best First Feature Film Award.

Bleak Night (South Korea, 2010, 116 min. Dir: Yoon Sung-Hyun)

Musan would actually be more bleak than Bleak Night, which also came from South Korea but felt like it was set in a different world. But even in a more affluent strata where material needs are taken care of, there's much sadness. Ki-tae, a high-school student, has died and his father — too often absent from his son's life — is trying to find out about the events that lead up to it. This sets up a complicated flashback structure where the father seeks out his son's best friends, and through their stories and memories, we learn about the layers of their relationships. Why did Dong-yoon drop out? Why did Hee-june transfer to a different school shortly before Ki-tae's death? As the father tries to make these connections, the younger characters also seek each other out and share their memories.

Although the flashback structure was well executed — there were some points, especially later in the film, where scenes slid fluidly between past and present, adding an eerie sense of dislocation — it pushed up against being too elusive. By the time I had sorted out the basics of who-was-who and how they were connected, a third of the film had gone by. And if the intent at the outset was to use the flashbacks as a sort of unfolding to a deeper truth, it doesn't quite get there, especially in terms of the father's quest — as the film progresses, he recedes to the periphery. And as we start to learn toward the end that Ki-tae was not as popular and virtuous as we might have thought, there's no indication that the father is actually learning about any of this, leaving his catharsis incomplete.

And though the film was a little too slow-going at points, it's worth seeing overall. It certainly doesn't spoonfeed the narrative to the viewer, so careful observation is rewarded. And the young actors, who invest their characters with realistic personalities, are convincing in conveying in intense pressure-cooker of the Korean school system, which has mostly been portrayed in the more stylized confines of horror films like Whispering Corridors and its ilk.

Reel Asian 2011: Wednesday

Reviews of screenings from the The 2011 Reel Asian International Film Festival, Toronto, Canada.

Summer Pasture (Tibet/USA 2010, 85 min. Dir: Lynn True, Nelson Walker)

Being a nomadic yak-herder in Tibet doesn't look like a bad gig. There's endless hard work, of course, more of which involves yak dung than I'd enjoy. But there's the sort of closeness to the land and sky and seasons that cityfolk tend to romanticize. Of course, summer is the best time of year, we're told, when nature is at its least harsh.

This documentary takes us up close and personal to Dzachukha, in the high grasslands of Eastern Tibet, where we spend most of one summer with Locho and Yama. Happily married, they're trying their best to provide a life for their infant daughter, who has not yet received a name — a harsh reminder that a baby's survival is less guaranteed in this distant realm, far from doctors or hospitals.

Locho likes his way of life well enough — it's been in his blood for uncountable generations. But he can see the world changing around him, and he knows that the annual seasonal migrations between highland and lowland grazing fields might not be around for much longer. Yama has health problems, and just maybe it would be better to stay in the village where his daughter could go to school — an opportunity that Locho never had.

The film unhurriedly gives us a sense of what their lives are like, with the regularity of hard work and the moments of respite in between. And in spending this time with Locho and Yama we get to see under the surface, learning about some of the storms their marriage has endured.

A very worthy film. I enjoyed its tight focus — the directors knew the story they wanted to tell, and trimmed away everything else. At the same time, however, there was so much more I wanted to know about what was happening outside the frame. Politics (except for some local issues) were largely avoided, so I left feeling curious about how much the rapid rush of change owed to the Chinese occupation and suppression of Tibetan culture, and how much just to "modern times". A much-longer Q&A, beyond the quick couple questions that were raised at the end of the screening, would have been warranted.

My only caveat was that this film did not look good on the big screen. Whether there was a problem with the projection at Innis or if it was just some artifacts from rough-and-tumble in situ film-making, the brights were highly saturated, giving the movie an unpleasant over-exposed look — the butter that Yama was constantly churning looked like glowing toxic waste. Plus there was some blow-up graininess which is probably inherent to its Digibeta origins. That shouldn't be a problem on a TV screen, so this is otherwise well-worth seeking out.

Side-note to film festivals holding screenings at Innis: Innis Town Hall is a very unsoundproofed room. Using the space against the outside walls as a queue for the next movie can create a real distraction during a meditative film like this, when chatter from people outside starts to become as loud as the film on the screen. I know it's hard to avoid when it's getting too cold to have lines outside, but maintaining the "serenity of the space" in a festival screening room needs to be a #1 priority.