VIFF in a Jiff: Eleven More Film Fest Reviews

Hello, my name is Dorothy Woodend. I am your friendly neighbourhood film critic. By day I watch films, and at night I also watch films. Sometimes I get tired but then something comes along, be it a chin-dropping documentary or a VR installation that blows my tiny mind, and presto! I am restored to full viewing power. Lately I’ve been reviewing films to be shown at the upcoming Vancouver International Film Festival. If you missed my first set of reviews, check them out here. VIFF runs Sept. 27 to Oct. 12 at cinemas across town. Find screening times here.

1. Le Grand Bal

Dance trance in France! That’s all you really need to know about this charming documentary. Deep in the French countryside, a collection of different people — old and young, fat and skinny, very talented and less so — dance ’til they drop in the small village of Gennetines. For seven warm summer days and nights, Le Grand Bal takes place in different tents with a wide variety of music styles and gaiety in boundless measure. People take classes and workshops during the day and then show up in the evening to strut their stuff. As the dancers shake their hips, whirl like dervishes, drink like fish, and give each other major googly eyes, something wondrous emerges. Laetitia Carton’s epic celebration of the human need for movement is an unfettered joy, and more than anything you may simply want to join in.

2. Matangi/Maya/M.I.A.

If you only know M.I.A. from music videos and pop songs, director Stephen Loveridge’s sprawling film may prove a revelation. Loveridge, in active collaboration with his friend and star, takes a deeper look at the woman behind the music. Long before she was a pop phenom, Mathangi “Maya” Arulpragasam was a young film student in London struggling to reconcile the difficult histories of her family and her country. The singer’s father was a leader in the Tamil Tigers who fought a ferocious struggle in Sri Lanka. This activist past forms a large part of the backdrop to M.I.A.’s own pitched battles with the media. Loveridge, who met Arulpragasam at film school in the United Kingdom, has remarkable access to the highs and lows of her life, as well as reams of personal footage. What emerges is a fascinating and unvarnished look at a smart, complicated and occasionally maddening musician and outsize personality.

3. Carmine Street Guitars

A quiet film about loud things, Carmine Street Guitars is also the name of a shop run by Rick Kelly. Kelly has been making and selling guitars in his tiny storefront in Greenwich Village since little Bobby Dylan was in short pants. Many of Kelly’s instruments are fashioned from repurposed wood rescued from dumpsters and construction sites across New York City. As he noodles away in his workshop, a parade of visitors including Bill Frisell, Nels Cline, Lenny Kay, Eleanor Friedberger, Marc Ribot and Charlie Sexton pay homage. Also, what film set in New York would be complete without a rambling conversation with Jim Jarmusch? In he comes, all spiky hair and downtown cool. Director Ron Mann takes such an easy and relaxed approach that the film can sometimes feel a wee bit sleepy — until someone plugs into an amp and the peel of a guitar solo reverberates through heart and soul.

4. The Price of Everything

The art world is kind of insane, and for another reminder of the unsavoury intermingling of big money and contemporary art you need look no further than Nathaniel Kahn’s revealing film. Artists, dealers and collectors mingle, drink and opine at international art fairs, uptown galleries and swanky events around the globe. At the heart of everything is money, money, money, obscene amounts of the stuff. As people park their profit in work from the hottest new artists, the art world starts to resemble a jungle, comprised of hunters and prey. The artists (Gerhard Richter, Marilyn Minter, Jeff Koons, Larry Poons and many others) are only part of the chase. The more revealing characters are the very wealthy and the people who sell to them. Kahn (My Architect) brings a clear eye to the action, and the behaviour he captures is occasionally almost jaw-dropping in its ravenous, red-clawed pursuit of fame, money, prestige and power. Art is almost beside the point.

5. Studio 54

There have been so many biopics this year it occasionally feels like there is a documentary portrait for everyone with even the faintest smidgen of fame. Matt Tyrnauer’s film has the benefit of oodles of famous folk (Andy Warhol, Liza Minnelli, et al) as well as heaping helpings of sex, drugs, disco and, of course, tax evasion. What’s not to love? At the height of the roaring 1970s Studio 54 raised its randy head, threw up a velvet rope and declared “Oooooo, love to love, you, baby!” The owners and creators of the place, Steve Rubell and his college friend Ian Schrager, had a mega-sized hit that grew into a monster almost from opening night in 1977. Schrager (now 72) recounts the raunchy glory days of the place, before the cops ruined the party. It’s heady stuff, although not particularly deep in any fashion. But that’s okay, sometimes you just need to watch a teenage Michael Jackson boogying on down.

6. The Whistleblower of My Lai

Director Connie Field (The Life and Times of Rosie the Riveter; Have You Heard from Johannesburg) skillfully intersects the story of Hugh Thompson, an American helicopter pilot who saved a group of Vietnamese civilians from the My Lai Massacre, with the creation of an opera inspired by his heroism. After reporting the story, and helping indict some of his fellow American soldiers, Thompson suffered the repercussions for the remainder of his life. (He died in 2006, after being awarded the Soldier’s Medal in 1998.) More than 500 men, women and children were murdered on March 16, 1968, and when the news broke it arguably helped turn the tide against the Vietnam War. Thompson himself is far more fascinating than the behind-the-scenes tale of the operatic production. Still, there is much to be learned in Field’s documentary as composer Jonathan Berger, librettist Harriet Chessman and the members of the Kronos Quartet along with tenor Rinde Eckert and instrumentalist Van-Anh Vo struggle to bring Thompson’s story to full-throated life.

7. Yellow is Forbidden

Designer Guo Pei is best known for having designed Rihanna’s 2015 Met gown, a giant yellow confection immediately dubbed the “omelette dress” for its yolkish hue. The image of Rihanna ascending the stairs to the Met Ball secured Pei sudden global fame. But what comes sidling in at the edges of director Pïetra Brettkelly’s film portrait is something a little less than glamorous. The narrative takes a fly-on-the-wall approach, or more accurately a peek under the petticoats, and ends up capturing a few unexpected things. Scenes in Paris Fashion Week run up against the work needed to make a $1-million dress. The women who sew, embroider and stitch say they can’t work any harder, or cheaper, and are castigated by the designer, who is later shown outfitting the very wealthy wives of communist party leaders. The Vancouver Art Gallery’s show of Pei’s work is set to open Oct. 13. We punters will get the chance to marvel at the detail and complexity of the work. But fashion this over the top, bejewelled, encrusted and bedecked, borders a bit on the ridiculous, if not the downright immoral. Coming on the heels of a number of outstanding films about fashion this year (Alexander McQueen and Susanne Bartsch), Yellow is Forbidden, for all its ostentatious display, often feels oddly underwhelming. Although scenes of poor models staggering down the runway in gowns that resemble the carapaces of insanely chic insects is something to behold, especially when the poor things tip over and the beautiful illusion cracks wide open.

8. Animal Behaviour

David Fine and Alison Snowden’s latest animated opus is a very precise and deeply funny depiction of a group therapy session for a bunch of troubled souls. These folks just happen to be an angry gorilla, a pig with food issues and an extremely co-dependent leech. Denying your true nature will eventually land you in a heap of trouble, it seems. It isn’t a romp in the park, although that might do a world of wonder for Dr. Clement, the canine therapist leading the group. As the participants deal with their own issues, as well as each other, a genuine breakthrough, or perhaps breakdown, ensues.

9. Pumpkin Movie

Sometimes short films pack a surprising wallop. Sophy Romvari’s short film Pumpkin Movie does precisely that. Inside its scant running time of 11 minutes, it manages to create an entire world of experience. While there might be a temptation to term it a #MeToo film, Pumpkin is more tender than it is polemical. The premise is simple — two friends connect via Skype to honour the tradition of carving Halloween pumpkins together. As they hack away, the pair share stories about the reality of being young and female. It’s not pretty. But underneath the surface of the story lies all manner of complexity, including the perviness of men, the solidarity of women and the shared communion of friendship. Playing as part of a VIFF shorts program entitled Close Quarters, Romvari’s deeply intelligent film carves a hole in your heart and lights a candle in there.

10. Quiet Killing

Kim O’Bomsawin’s ferocious takedown of the culture of indifference and systemic racism that has resulted in the disappearance and murder of uncounted number of First Nations women is not easy viewing. The exact number of women and girls lost to sexual violence is actually unknown, because for many years no one was even bothering to count or look for women who vanished. Vancouver comes in for a particular focus, with many residents of the Downtown Eastside describing their lives on the street or in SRO hotels. Canada’s legacy of colonial destruction is only coming to broader public knowledge thanks in large part to people speaking out about their experiences. Audrey Siegl, Angel Gates and Lorelei Williams, among others, tell their stories with raw emotion and remarkable dignity. As Indigenous people regain a sense of wholeness and identity through a direct confrontation with the past, be it familial violence or the lingering trauma of residential school, their stories are very hard to hear, but they’re also deeply necessary.

11. Science Fair

Cristina Costantini and Darren Foster’s film falls fully in the tradition of kids in competition genre (Spellbound, Mad Hot Ballroom, etc). This is not necessarily a bad thing. Although it is operating within certain conventions, Science Fair earns its place in the pantheon through goodwill, humour and intelligence. It would take a heart made from granite to resist these bumptious teenagers, who are dead set on saving the world, inventing a cure for cancer and going to prom, pretty much all at the same time. The narrative revolves principally around the The Intel International Science and Engineering Fair, an annual event that sees teams compete in different categories, with the grand prize of Best in Fair and $75,000 going to one lucky kid. The film opens with footage of a previous winner losing his mind and making noises that no human should make, unless they are on fire. It is, in a word, adorable. But it’s also serious business, with scholarships, jobs, and national pride on the line.

The film corrals a collection of young scientists from around the globe, who are inventing, and in some cases re-inventing, solutions for the problems of an increasingly complex world, be they soaring cancer rates, drug addiction or the Zika virus. Despite their outsize cranial capacity, these kids are still teenagers, beset by such ordinary things as insecurity and social pressure, as well as parents who often seem confused by the passionate and occasionally obsessive nature of their offspring. With 1,800 participants competing, Brazilians square off against Germans and the Americans go up against kids from Thailand. But in the end, everyone is a winner, and I don’t even mean that sarcastically. Some of the inventions and innovations that these kids come up with might change, or even save, the world one day. And who wouldn’t want that? Take your own children, and then demand on the way home from the theatre, “Why can’t you do that?” It’s fun for the entire family!

If you missed Dorothy Woodend’s first round of VIFF reviews, go here.

The Vancouver International Film Festival runs Sept. 27 to Oct. 12 at cinemas across town. Find screening times here.