“When politics is treated as a game, everybody loses.” I think Warren Beatty said that. Or someone else. Or I just made it up. Either way, it seems like the type of false quote that would be appreciated by Jane Bodine, the central character of Our Brand is Crisis, played by Sandra Bullock. The film is a fictionalized story based on or inspired by the 2005 documentary film of the same name, directed by Rachel Boynton. The doc depicted the American political strategies employed in the 2002 Bolivian national election. In this new story, Bodine is the key political consultant hired by the campaign of former president Pedro Castillo to help him overcome his 28-point deficit in the presidential race—the scenario is the same, but fictional versions of the participants are inserted.
Set in an imaginable, only slightly futuristic apocalypse, Into the Forest is a compelling portrait of a sisterly bond in the wake of an existential crisis.
Creative destruction is a concept that, for many of us, recalls the stereotypical young male who has just discovered he’s really into economic theory and is eager to share his newly acquired knowledge. I don’t know what it is about masculinity and destroying things, but the idea of destruction in itself is enough of a draw to attract many of us (see: every major blockbuster in the past twenty years), and the potential for something positive to come out of that satisfying act of breaking stuff is like a cherry on top. Demolition is a film that takes this idea, makes it both a metaphor and not a metaphor, is aware of what it’s doing, and makes its experience as pleasurable and interesting as it possibly can over the course of two hours.
One thought kept repeating in my mind over and over again while watching Eye in the Sky: criticism, while important, is incredibly easy. Sitting back and critiquing the decisions or work of another person is virtually always done from a position of security. Arguments made by critics should be made and received with the understanding that sitting outside of a particular situation and passing judgment is a completely different exercise than being in the middle of that situation, having to make difficult decisions with actual stakes behind them, bearing responsibility for outcomes that can actually affect any number of people. This is certainly applicable to the relationship between film critic and filmmaker; it’s also one of the ideas running throughout this movie.
We take for granted that any movie that can be described as a “love story” inherently involves romance between two lovers, but that definition is broadening as more perspectives are being more widely represented in film. Miss You Already is a love story, but it’s not about the love between couples, but between a couple of women who have been best friends since childhood. Toni Collette and Drew Barrymore play the women, portraying one of those long-term friendships that has its ups and downs, its hot periods and cold periods, but the type whose longevity speaks volumes. It’s a rare thing to see on screen, this type of relationship commonly described by phrases like “we can be away from each other for a long time but when we’re together, it’s like we never left.”
Films that feature a child’s perspective are often powerful when they work, and painful when they don’t. Room is an example of this device working. We see and experience the world of the movie from inside the eyes and mind of Jack, the five-year-old boy played by Jacob Tremblay; it’s a world consisting of a small single room that we quickly learn he’s never left, spending all five years of his life in this tiny space with his Ma, played by Brie Larson. What we know from the introductory scenes is that they never leave this little room, that they are brought necessary supplies by a man they call Old Nick, and that Jack and Ma have a close and loving relationship.
A good way to erase all memory of an exceptionally disappointing and poorly received film festival submission is to come back the next year with your best movie to date. Writer-director Tom McCarthy seems to have done that at this year’s edition of TIFF, following the much maligned The Cobbler with his new film, Spotlight, a superb drama covering the real life investigative work of the Boston Globe reporting team who first shined a light on the widespread sexual abuse of children and subsequent cover-up carried out by the Catholic Church in Massachusetts back in 2001, earning the paper a Pulitzer Prize.
Maybe I don’t consider my time quite as precious as other people. Or maybe my standards for what I find to be a worthwhile movie-watching experience are abnormally low. Maybe I just need to find a way to justify the amount of time I spend watching movies that are widely regarded as trash, because the possibility that I’ve wasted hours to years of my life on this stuff is terrifyingly depressing.
