2024’s Toronto International Film Festival has finally arrived, with this iteration of the fest doing away with a virtual component entirely. Alas, it would appear that we are fully out of the pandemic era, and primely back in the natural swing of things. Still, Josh and Allison (especially Allison) managed to catch a bunch of movies from one of our favorite festivals, and we’re here to share it all with you! Check out our full coverage of the fest just after the jump…
Films
A MISSING PART
(Written by Allison Brown) As Americans, we are often told to look past eccentricities of other cultures in a means to be fair and accepting of differences in societal principles. A Missing Part exposes one perturbing Japanese practice too unethical to look past: legalized parental kidnapping upon marital separation between a Gaijin, or foreigner, and Japanese citizen. Despite the Hague Convention’s advice to maintain the relationship between a child and both parents, Japanese culture rarely allows for joint guardianship, according to a character in a support group attended by our lead, Jay (Romain Duris). The first person to leave with their kid gets sole guardianship, allowing manipulative, sanctioned behavior to slip through the cracks. Despite reliably paying alimony to separated wife Keiko (Yumi Narita) and never committing any abuse, Jay has been denied contact with daughter Lily (Mei Cirne-Masuki) for nearly a decade. After spending years searching for them, while letting his successful chef career crumble in the process, a chance encounter brings Lily back into his life. Upon agreeing to cover a car service shift for his sick co-worker, a familiar face suddenly shows up at his door on crutches, requiring a daily ride to school. While she does not immediately recognize him, Jay is certain of her identity from the start. Bittersweet in tone, co-writer/director Guillaume Senez beautifully depicts this budding father-daughter relationship with heart and realism. Although depicted in a conventional, linear fashion, Senez takes his time in revealing Jay’s backstory. He uses another character, Jessica (Judith Chemla), to flash back to Jay’s initial custody struggles, depicting her experience in real time, while educating the audience on the law and policy at hand. Romain Duris, who is gradually becoming a household name here at Josh at the Movies, gives another emotional performance, as he descends from accepting, supportive friend to emotional wreck. Sentimentality is earned, as key reveals require great patience to unearth from the narrative. As the score swells with each major discovery, the music becomes vital to following plot significance at early, vague clues. In a singular fashion, A Missing Part brings a controversial, international topic desperately needing Western exposure to the forefront, while sharing a compelling, personal experience sure to bring viewers to tears.
BOONG
(Written by Intern, Dwayne Brydie) Boong skillfully explores the complexities of the parent-child relationship in the absence of one guardian. The protagonist, schoolboy Boong (Gugun Kipgen), exhibits outlandish behavior that often gets him into trouble with his mother (Bala Hijam Ningthoujam). His father, Joykumar, has left their home in Manipur to seek better job opportunities, cutting off all communication with his household. As rumors of Joykumar’s death circulate, Boong and his best friend, Raji (Angom Sanamatum), embark on a risky journey to uncover the truth, relying on their wit and resilience. What begins with a comedic tone shifts dramatically when residents of Manipur present Joykumar’s death certificate, plunging the story into deeper, more serious territory. Director Lakshmipriya Devi effectively weaves Indian culture, beliefs, and contemporary social issues into the narrative, keeping the audience engaged with Boong’s challenges. The traditions depicted highlight the importance of family, as Joykumar’s absence creates tension within the community. Devi masterfully navigates this coming-of-age story with stunning visuals and high-quality landscape imagery, which enhance the themes of new beginnings and the value of friendship. The inclusion of deception, particularly through a case of mistaken identity during the search for Joykumar, adds another layer of intrigue. Kipgen and Sanamatum’s performances leave a lasting impression, showcasing their strong chemistry. Even scenes that might have dragged are enlivened by their humorous banter. Despite some shortcomings in the plot, Boong‘s strong performances and striking aesthetics ultimately redeem what could have been a more promising storyline.
CAN I GET A WITNESS
(Written by Allison Brown) Richly human and deeply thought-provoking, Can I Get a Witness? profoundly explores the beauty in accepting death and embracing environmental responsibility. Set in a near-future utopia where individuals are required to end their lives at age fifty through scheduled End of Life (EOL) ceremonies, writer/director Ann Marie Fleming assesses the personal and communal sacrifices necessary for a harmonious society. Kiah (Keira Jang) embarks on a new position as a Documenter, where she illustrates to record events in the absence of photography and printing. Her sketches transform through subtle animation: a scribbling storm cloud ominously hovers over a subject’s head, while twinkling stars and soaring birds are brought to life as they emerge from the page. Cinematography enhances the piece with intimate close-ups of vibrant flowers and sprawling shots of lush greenery, highlighting ecological tranquility while easing heavy themes. Sandra Oh’s portrayal of Ellie is marked by depth and nuance, though her presence sometimes feels diminished, leaving her considerable talent underutilized. Nonetheless, she delivers an empathetic performance, embodying the struggles of preparing a child for a demanding job that requires emotional resilience and contextual understanding. The interplay between Ellie’s nostalgic perspective and Kiah’s forward-looking stance, bolstered by the actors’ palpable chemistry, effectively demonstrates how Kiah must learn about the past to shape her future. Politically charged, traditional public structures and practices are critically examined, advocating for fundamental equality and subtly endorsing a communist-like system. Juxtaposing an idealistic setting with jarring reminders of contemporary issues—such as financial disparity in healthcare, war, and third-world conditions— depicts these problems as mere relics of a bygone era. Enriched by inspired motion graphics and exceptional acting, Can I Get a Witness? challenges conventional notions of sacrifice and societal tenets, offering a provocative take on improving the collective concerns we accept as commonplace.
THE COURAGEOUS
(Written by Intern, Sean Barry) The Courageous bravely depicts the dangers of improper parenting through a painfully realistic lens. Jule (Ophelia Kolb) is a careless mother of three young children, who begin to see her problematic tendencies. Her oldest daughter, Claire (Jasmine Kalisz Saurer), regularly notices Jule acting out, often questioning her choices. Despite lying to her family about having a steady job, Jule typically spends her days stealing from stores and attempting to negotiate with debtors. With the pressure of losing her house and futile attempts to keep her kids happy, Jule turns to some alternative methods of survival. Ophelia Kolb’s captivating performance of a self-destructive woman spans numerous emotions and mental states. Kolb’s ability to showcase Jule’s careless attitude towards crime and her frustration with life is remarkable. In spite of her age, Jasmine Kalisz Saurer portrays a young girl fearful of and for her mother to perfection. Saurer’s quiet scenes with Kolb convey peak nuance; thoughts are shared with a simple look between them. However, an underdeveloped script keeps compelling ideas from properly developing. To elicit an ordinary tone, director Jasmin Gordon employs lifelike dialogue and natural lighting. A lack of a traditional overarching storylines keep the plot from feeling connected. Had Jule endeavored to better herself or striven to ensure a better future for her children, it would have created a cleaner transition between disconnected moments of drama. Instead, a scene where Claire and her brothers destroy an electrical box on the side of the road transpires for seemingly no reason. Fortunately, even with lackluster structure, a believable script and brilliant acting across the board allows The Courageous to become a thought-provoking exercise in parenting gone wrong.
DAUGHTER’S DAUGHTER
(Written by Allison Brown) Capturing realistic relationships between three generations of women is a common cinematic feat. Daughter’s Daughter may not do a poor job of portraying the humanity in its characters, but this iteration does not feel singular enough to warrant a watch. Too much time is wasted setting up the tension present between Jin Aixia (Sylvia Chang) and her daughters, Fan Zeur (Eugenie Liu) and Emma (Karena Lam), that there is none left to expand flat characters. Aixia’s mother becomes one dimensional, defined primarily by her dementia, and all four women barely have a backstory separate from how they relate to one another. Zeur is presented as a stereotype of an edgy type acting out by her wardrobe and makeup, with only her decision to get pregnant through in vitro fertilization and her homosexuality defining her as a person. Her partner, Jiayi, only exists in her shadow, without much of an identity of her own. Why should we care about the conflicts between these ladies when we barely know who they are? It is a shame that these characters are written so slight, as the actresses featured are all very talented, left with not much to work with in the script. Despite briefly navigating a relevant topic of abortion in discussing when a fetus constitutes a living “child” that might deserve to be born, writer/director Huang Xi’s analysis is too shallow to claim this element as a central conflict. Daughter’s Daughter subsists as a collection of conversations, often communicating things once they have occurred, rather than depicting them on screen. This is perhaps Xi’s greatest downfall; all the interesting scenes are left out and solely reflected on after the fact. A better film may have focused less on portraying segregated moments in a slice-of-life style and more on the experiences that shape this family.
DEAD TALENTS SOCIETY
Full review at the link.
DO I KNOW YOU FROM SOMEWHERE?
(Written by Intern, Sean Barry) Do I Know You From Somewhere? presents a unique concept ultimately lost in stylistic prowess. Olive (Caroline Bell) and Benny (Ian Ottis Goff) wake one morning to bizarre lapses in memory and reality. Items around the house go missing, and strange magnets appear on the fridge, which seem to count down to some unknown event. Through a series of flashbacks, we see how Olive and Benny first met at a wedding, but the past starts to inexplicably mix with the present. They encounter an alternate history where Olive fell in love with a woman named Ada (Mallory Amirault), and both timelines coincide dangerously. Co-Writer/Director Arianna Martinez unapologetically takes bold swings, creating a visually stunning product as a result. Camerawork from cinematographer Lance Kenneth Blakney perfectly sets each scene’s tone from pleasant to unsettling to dreamlike. The opening sequence shows ethereal shots of nature mirrored to appear kaleidoscopic, reflecting the theme of two different backstories merging together. Bell and Goff give emotionally affecting performances as people coming to terms with dangerously unfamiliar lives with untold circumstances. Themes of love and loss pervade, but occasionally become muffled by experimental framing devices. Unlike other projects blurring the line between reality and imagination, this story never leaves the audience a clear base to stand on. Quick editing between these universes often prohibit the viewer from knowing the precise moment taking place. A well-established introduction to Olive and Benny’s normal life together would have allowed for greater uneasiness when everything becomes convoluted later. Instead, from minute one, they already know something is wrong, and we never understand what their normal looks like. Nonetheless, Do I Know You From Somewhere? remains as a deeply intriguing exploration of relationships and missed opportunities that few have replicated before.
ESCAPE FROM THE 21ST CENTURY
(Written by Intern, Sean Barry) Cinema is infinitely more enjoyable when it is clear that the filmmakers genuinely enjoyed the production process. Such is the case with Escape from the 21st Century, a science-fiction comedy combining styles ranging from Edgar Wright to the Daniels. Teenage friends, Chengyong (Yichen Chen), Wang Zha (Li Zhuzhao), and Paopao (Qixuan Kang), discover an ability to travel twenty years into the future by taking over their adult consciousness. Although initially used for inconsequential fun, like fighting over girlfriends and money, the trio, now in new bodies (Song Yang as Chengyong, Zhang Ruoyun as Wang Zha, and Leon Lee as Paopao), encounter a villainous plot to destroy the world. Armed solely with charisma and knowledge of video game fighting, this gaggle of misfits must come together to save the universe, while also facing harsh realities of growing up and discovering themselves. Writer/director Li Yang takes broad swings with an unconventional plot and deeply bizarre, yet engaging, tangents. From the onset, he constructs a uniquely silly tone, allowing the audience to sit back and enjoy rather than taking it all so seriously. Breakneck editing perfectly takes characters back and forth through time jumps, and images on screen always seem just as energized as the main characters. One might critique the rapid pace and minimal breathing room between scenes, but this approach is surprisingly effective, reflecting the protagonists’ own unabating whirlwind. Saba Mazloum’s gorgeous cinematography, though seemingly too beautiful for a reckless action story, enhances potent messages through serene outer space visuals and vibrant shots of colored water. Yang, Ruoyun, and Lee flawlessly capture the youthful energy that one might feel waking up in a suddenly matured body. They remain vibrant with each passing moment, building off each other and developing as people with each new discovery. With a fearless concept and unstoppable pacing, Escape from the 21st Century keeps adrenaline pumping until the last frame.
FREEDOM WAY
(Written by Intern, Sean Barry) Even with worldwide police brutality at the forefront of public attention, Freedom Way tragically fails to live up to the relevance of its timely concept. Amidst the rise of rampant governmental abuse in Nigeria, myriad storylines display the detrimental impact of unjust laws and their brutal consequences. A trio of friends begin a business venture, but struggle to keep it alive with new legal restrictions; a doctor’s job is threatened when he provides medical care for a gunshot victim against overcautious hospital policy; and officers fight over moral quandaries within recent nationally-issued protocol. As the country endures continuous discrimination and devastation, maintaining any semblance of normalcy becomes increasingly untenable. Rather than following a typical linear plot, writer Blessing Uzzi orchestrates coinciding stories, each illustrating the catastrophic effects of harsh restrictions. This odd structure, as well as an overabundance of one-dimensional characters, creates too many subplots to follow. Uneven time distribution between principal players creates difficulty in deciphering where the focus should be. Director Olalekan Afolabi clearly aims to inspire discussion on police violence, but a better defined strategy for resistance or enacting change would have been more compelling. Leading performances by Jesse Sintele and Mike Afolarin as two of the young entrepreneurs launching a corporation uncharacteristically stand out, showing promise had they led a different narrative. Nonetheless, the viewer must endure nearly ninety minutes of unrelenting harassment towards innocent characters with little reprieve. Messy editing often causes confusion, with constant abrupt cuts to black and unclear composition. One moment intercuts a woman running with an officer inspecting a car, but the audience cannot tell where they are in relation to each other due to improper direction. Although intentions are obviously noble, convoluted plot beats, muddled presentation, and a jarring score prevent Freedom Way from reaching its ambitious heights.
Gülizar
(Written by Intern, Sean Barry) Despite promising motifs and gifted performers, Gülizar never gains necessary traction to become compelling. On a lengthy bus ride to reach her wedding destination across the border, Gülizar (Ecem Uzun) is viciously attacked at a rest stop bathroom. Although initially reserved about the experience, she is eventually forced to tell her fiance, Emre (Bekir Behrem), who wants to seriously harm the assailant. A detective (Hakan Yufkacıgil) is hired to investigate as an endeavor to subdue Emre’s violent ambitions. As Gülizar attempts to enjoy her new life, she is constantly reminded of the fateful day, which slowly breaks down relationships with those around her. Writer/director Belkıs Bayrak deserves to be lauded for her inclusion of bold themes like trauma response and recovery. Unfortunately, painfully sluggish pacing and lack of consistent storylines create a product feeling largely unfinished. Even with an inciting incident occurring fifteen minutes in, insufficient expositional action may leave the audience uninterested. Mundane activities take precedence over too much of the runtime, often leaving scenes to transpire without much purpose. Extended sequences of Gülizar dicing tomatoes with a family member or Emre struggling to restrain a cow add nothing, leaving the central thesis muddled. Ecem Uzun gives a highly nuanced and affecting performance, showcasing large emotions only during key outbursts. However, outside of select instances, her character mostly remains introverted, with very little dialogue spoken throughout. Bekir Behrem effectively portrays a man furiously protective of his spouse to the point of criminality. Later on, a particularly powerful moment involves Emre’s family having a conversation in front of the couple, but the camera only cuts between Gülizar and Emre as they melancholically exchange silent glances. Nonetheless, bland writing, unenergized editing, and an inconclusive ending ensure that Gülizar’s powerful messages will be hopelessly lost in translation.
the mother and the bear
(Written by Intern, Sean Barry) The Mother and the Bear delivers a delightfully cozy reminder about the power of family and relationships. Korean immigrant Sara Kim (Kim Ho-Jung) fruitlessly attempts to play matchmaker for her daughter, Sumi (Leere Park), who shows little interest in dating. After an accident in the snow, Sumi must be placed into a medically-induced coma. A nurse at the hospital suggests that Sara try a dating app, sparking the idea to pose as Sumi and arrange a date for her once she wakes up. Sara soon matches with an unexpected source and begins to flirt, hoping he will be the perfect Korean boyfriend for Sumi. Along the way, Sara encounters Korean restaurant owner Sam (Won-Jae Lee), striking a deep connection over their heritage. Through community interactions and experiences in Winnipeg, Sara begins to understand Sumi and her aspirations in life. Writer/director Johnny Ma envelops the audience with a soothing atmosphere through gentle scoring and gorgeous shots of the charming, snow-covered city. Although a lack of major stakes may deter some viewers, clever writing and a dedicated cast ensure there is never a dull moment. Kim Ho-Jung shines in a rare leading role for a middle-aged Asian woman, offering a refreshing portrayal not often seen. Her mastery of clever line delivery and physical comedy makes her an immense joy to watch. Won-Jae Lee gives an equally captivating performance, showing a wide range while still remaining lighthearted. Simple conversational scenes, some of which are accomplished in one long, unmoving shot, never feel monotonous due to Ho-Jung and Lee’s strong chemistry. Despite minor pacing issues, The Mother and the Bear delivers a heartfelt message about cherishing loved ones regardless of ideological differences.
THE MOUNTAIN
Heartfelt but overly simplistic and saccharine, New Zealand family flick The Mountain comes to TIFF, complete with a child cast ensemble. Unfortunately, said ensemble leaves something to be desired. The lead character Sam, played by Elizabeth Atkinson, has a super thick Aussie accent and stilted line delivery—not a very potent combination. Sam, who has just finished chemo, starts a journey to climb all the way to the top of Taranaki Mountain. Along the way, his path will be colored with sweet friends. The characters have ambitions and tragedies all their own, such as Mallory (Reuben Francis), whose mother passed from cancer. Being the feature acting debuts of three children in the cast, it is difficult to fault the film, especially when recognizing that debut director Rachel House seems to be gearing The Mountain towards a young generation. Nevertheless, I had issues getting past obvious glaring shortcomings.
MR. K
(Written by Allison Brown) Mr. K excruciatingly guides the audience through a cacophonous, surrealist universe populated by an incessant influx of grating characters, all while navigating a perplexingly ambiguous narrative, an overly brisk pace, and anxiety-inducing levels of extraneous information. Our protagonist, magician Mr. K (Crispin Glover), intends to stay just one night in a dilapidated hotel, but his visit stretches into an eternity. After missing an appointment for a potential local gig, he endeavors to leave the property, but instead struggles to find the exit while being drawn into random, distracting tangents. Continually bewildered by loud bangs, shaking surroundings, and flickering lights, Mr. K narrowly escapes an aggressive marching band emerging from a tiny door, encounters random nonverbal guests who suddenly appear in his room and abruptly leave, and unexpectedly rises through the ranks as a sous chef in the kitchen. At times, it feels like multiple movies crammed into one. We are introduced to Ruth (Fionnula Flanagan) and Sara (Dearbhla Molloy), a quirky pair of elderly twin sisters whose seemingly irrelevant digressions occasionally reveal crucial details about the mystery. Their dynamic is reminiscent of Tweedledee and Tweedledum from Alice in Wonderland. Likely inspired by the classic tale, writer/director Tallulah Hazekamp leans into these similarities, presenting an extensive feast in one improbably large room with a half-gypsy woman, the Maestra (Sunnyi Melles), at the center of the table. Much like the Mad Hatter at his tea party, the Maestra has a short attention span. Indeed, there is even a bunny, akin to the White Rabbit but lacking any anthropomorphic traits, who conveniently finds Mr. K’s missing belongings. A literal hole appears towards the denouement, echoing Alice’s rabbit hole and evoking analogous plot significance. Even more relevant, one central conflict of the surroundings shrinking and becoming increasingly ravaged, draws parallels to Alice’s experiences. Schwab employs absurdity and chaos to depict Mr. K’s sense of perpetual loneliness as a kind of purgatory, where he feels misunderstood, struggling to connect with the world around him. Although considerable effort and creative energy appear to have been invested, the result feels like Hazekamp’s overindulgent passion project. A lack of clarity, cohesion, and purpose will likely make Mr. K an alienating watch for most viewers.
MY FATHER’S DAUGHTER
(Written by Intern, Sean Barry) My Father’s Daughter depicts an intriguing concept brought to life through lackluster storytelling. Rebellious teenager Elvira (Sarah Olaussen Eira) feels isolated. Her absent Dad has been a mystery much of her life, her mother’s new girlfriend is always around, and her classmate, influencer Margrethe (Sara Sofia Mienna), takes advantage of her to gain false sympathy online. When a strange man starts following Elvira around, she soon realizes he is none other than her father, Terje (Aslat Mahtte Gaup), deciding to suddenly rejoin her life. Her mother (Inga Elisa Pave Idivuoma) pushes back, as she wants nothing to do with him. Elvira must come to terms with her personal troubles and become more accepting if she hopes to live happily. Director Egil Pedersen establishes a playful tone with a whimsical map explaining Elvira’s backstory. However, none of this humor reappears, with dramatic beats superseding any comedic presence. Themes of family and personal growth become prevalent, but are displayed too apathetically to be seen as significant. Illogical character decisions plague otherwise routine scenes such as when Terje begins stalking his former family. He breaks into their house while his ex-wife rightfully threatens to call the police, but never follows through. Despite his refusal to leave, no one ever reports his erratic behavior, and Elvira views it as adventurous. Similarly, given the intense stakes and relationship strains, performances seem too subdued and ultimately unrealistic. Overarching ideas become rushed towards the conclusion, resulting in plotlines feeling unresolved. Elvira’s moment when she learns forgiveness arrives too suddenly, as minutes earlier, she complains how nobody can change. Further attempts to rope in messages that imply modern kids may be too woke feel fruitless, especially since they hardly connect to Elvira’s arc. Even though My Father’s Daughter may be promising in theory, it is ultimately useless without entertaining characters, or interestingly presented morals.
THE PARADISE OF THORNS
Full review at the link.
THE PARTY’S OVER
(Written by Intern, Sean Barry) Despite a promising concept and great acting, The Party’s Over offers scarce quality content, growing increasingly tedious each minute. Following a police raid, Bilal (Edith Martinez-Val) secretly seeks shelter in a backyard shed. The homeowner, wealthy divorcée Carmina (Beatriz Arjona), discovers Bilal, and allows him to stay in her backyard. Bilal pleads with Carmina to help him safely escape or contact his cousin through email, but she refuses, choosing instead to keep the refugee captive. Lupe (Sonia Barba), the housekeeper, finds Bilal, but she too does not tell anyone, withholding her knowledge even from Carmina. As Carmina becomes progressively comfortable with her new guest, Bilal realizes he cannot possibly escape on his own, and Lupe devises a plan to help set him free. Carmina gradually reveals herself as a problematically unstable woman, and Beatriz Arjona portrays her with striking authenticity, making her unpredictable behavior feel real. Edith Martinez-Val brings natural innocence and charisma to a performance heavily reliant on non-verbal expressions. In the nearly dialogue-free opening sequence, Martinez-Val effectively displays Bilal’s panic and anxiety as he attempts to evade the law. Unfortunately, a weak, unstructured script produces a relatively mundane series of events with little cohesion. Arguments which arise halfway through feel more fit for a final climactic confrontation, and an obvious second act twist is ultimately irrelevant, leaving one to wonder why it was introduced at all. A third-act party scene drags on for over twenty minutes; although referencing relevant motifs, it stalls the narrative and contributes little. Bilal’s sudden political commentary on race to Lupe, though touching on the core message, feels forced and out of place, as he remains silent on these issues otherwise. The Party’s Over carries strong themes countering entrapment and freedom, but often are lost underneath excessive frivolity.
QUISLING: THE FINAL DAYS
(Written by Intern, Sean Barry) Quisling: The Final Days provides a dangerous window into the mind of an obscure, real life boogeyman from the twentieth century. During World War II, Nazi collaborator Vidkun Quisling (Gard B. Eidsvold) sought to transform Norway’s government by embracing Germany’s fascist ideologies, directly causing hundreds of deaths. After the Allies’ defeat, Quisling is arrested for his war crimes and awaits trial in a lonely cell. Priest Peder Olsen (Anders Danielsen Lie) is assigned to comfort and morally convert Quisling during what might be his final months. Quisling refuses to take responsibility for his unethical actions and continues to defend pernicious past decisions. Olsen often meets with Quisling’s wife, Maria (Lisa Carlehed), who staunchly defends her husband, insisting he always had the country’s best interest in mind. As the trial progresses, Quisling understands his inevitable fate, and Olsen ethically struggles with consoling such a monstrous man. Gard B. Eidsvold delivers a hauntingly powerful performance in playing this complex historical villain. His ignorance and gradual realization seem unnervingly realistic, chilling the room with a single glance. Anders Danielsen Lie brings a similar presence to the troubled priest, with devastating emotional reflection towards the conclusion feeling fully earned. Extended dialogue heavy scenes between Eidsvold and Lie are extremely engrossing, providing monumental portrayals of disturbed men in delicate positions. A highly compelling screenplay boldly examines the dark mentality shared by many during this time period, showing how easily one can fall into the trap of power despite vast intelligence. Through its attempt to fully render a divisive figure, moments often drag, an aspect exacerbated by frequently paceless editing. Slow cross-cutting depicting each character silently pondering their current predicament grows quickly wearisome, adding to an already lengthy runtime. Nonetheless, Quisling: The Final Days remains an intensely intriguing character study, disturbingly humanizing a reprehensible figure and serving as a sobering reminder that people with similar ideologies continue to operate unnoticed in today’s world.
SABA
(Written by Intern, Sean Barry) Saba compensates for its largely unengaging storyline with complex characters and compelling messages, vividly brought to life by adept actors. Saba (Mehazabien Chowdhury) resides as a glorified live-in nurse for her ailing mother, Shirin (Rokeya Prachy), who, despite receiving constant care, remains spiteful towards her daughter, leading to frequently heated arguments. With medical bills piling up, Saba decides to find a new job, but the only place willing to hire her is a shady, hookah lounge. Ankur (Mostafa Monwar), Saba’s supervisor, empathizes with her circumstances, as he too lives in squalor, and offers to help her navigate the unfortunate situation. A relationship slowly blossoms, but Saba inevitably faces the decision to choose happiness for herself or temporary health and longevity for her mother. Writer/director Maksud Hossain creates a realistic tone for the events, with dialogue that never feels performative and little added sound design. In order to maintain the naturalistic atmosphere, simplistic music plays only during key instances to elicit a deeper reaction. Everything seems routine for Saba, and as a result, many scenes are directed similarly. However, this does not allow for an intriguing narrative, as an overall coherent structure never materializes. Although normalcy vaguely contributes to important character decisions, the audience will likely lose interest in the mundanity. The trio of lead performances each shine both individually and as an ensemble with indelible chemistry. Chowdhury and Prachy’s moments together burst with emotion, ranging from intense verbal clashes to deeply poignant scenes of connection. Mostafa Monwar brings similar gravitas and authenticity to his portrayal of a troubled man struggling to remain financially stable. Powerful themes of poverty and strained familial bonds play out beautifully, and persistent reminders of their problems ensure there is no escaping life’s harsh reality. Saba may not be the most exciting watch, but its rich core and tough questions will reward a patient viewer.
SEEDS
Starved for genre content at TIFF, along comes comedy/horror hybrid Seeds, a weirdly curated oddity that fails to say anything even remotely interesting. An annoying influencer, Ziggy (Kaniehtiio Horn, writer and director), also a Toronto bicycle delivery driver, has been given the offer of a lifetime. Nature’s Old Seed corporation approaches Ziggy to collaborate on their brand. Ziggy’s cousin (Dallas Goldtooth) warns her about trusting “the enemy,” who he says control the seed to control the people. Ziggy starts hearing and seeing strange things while deeply immersed in her homeland, at first chalking it up to potentially smoking too much weed. Stylistically, Seeds makes a couple of interesting choices, including visually portraying the live comments on Ziggy’s channel, and attempting to seamlessly incorporate the digital age. A “debarking” scene in the final act tries hard to account for its shortcomings. However, Horn cannot seem to settle on the right tone for her predictable and uneven horror feature. By the time it arrives at a feminine-fueled bloodbath finale, how can one be bothered to care?
SHARP CORNER
In one of the more unpleasantly morose tales I have seen in a very long time, NEON’s Sharp Corner asks how far one would go to keep their dream home. Ben Foster and Cobie Smulders star as two hapless parents, caught at the mercy of their home’s proximity to a dangerous road. As the crashes pile up, Josh (Foster) becomes obsessive over preventing another potential accident… by any means necessary. Foster excels as he gradually unravels, consumed by the titular “sharp corner” of the road. This obsession is the sole driver of the drama, bleeding into the familial connections and calcifying them. The film leans into a wildly dark sense of humor, especially during the car crashes—one unfolding in the middle of a lengthy sex scene, another while Josh barbecues outside. Each scenario ends up more preposterous than the last. The narrative meanders, maintaining a single emotional tone from start to finish. If the conclusion had a bit more of a payoff, there would be something to write home about here. Instead, Sharp Corner won’t leave anyone slamming on their breaks in a rush to go see it.
SPACE COWBOY
(Written by Intern, Sean Barry) Space Cowboy suggests that some people are not compelling enough to warrant a feature documentary centered around their life. Joe Jennings has spent nearly forty years in the niche industry of skydiving cinematography, starting with his first airborne experience early in adulthood. Eventually teaming up with professional daredevil Rob Harris, Joe performed incredible aerial feats at ESPN’s X Games. Unfortunately, adrenaline can only take a person so far, and Joe began to struggle mentally. He comments on the difficulties of balancing work and family. His career arc encounters highs and lows, particularly thriving in the 2000s when his camerawork is featured in prominent blockbusters like San Andreas and Charlie’s Angels. Filmmakers Bryce Leavitt and Marah Strauch paint a decent portrait of Jennings’s, showcasing incredible footage of objects dropping from the sky, but a fatal flaw lies in their inability to convey why anyone should care. As an obscure figure, viewers would only be familiar with Jennings if they closely follow extreme sports. Testimonials drive the narrative, but there is no information about the individuals providing this firsthand account, making it difficult to assess their reliability. Constant back-and-forth editing between past and present creates a messy, unstructured product, with certain plotlines either randomly introduced or abruptly discarded. Joe discusses his engagement to his future wife, Sissy, but her father’s strong disapproval is briefly mentioned and then skipped over. Sissy then disappears from the narrative for nearly an hour, with no explanation provided about how their marriage successfully came to be. Similarly, Joe’s depression feels jarringly shoehorned in, as it is abandoned for a bulk of the story. When these touchy subjects are referenced and coupled with a bizarre image of Joe shaving in the bathroom, unintentional humor prevails more often than not. Despite Joe Jennings’ intriguing career, Space Cowboy’s elongated runtime and inconsistencies somehow make skydiving uninteresting.
sweet angel baby
(Written by Intern, Sean Barry) Sweet Angel Baby lacks the proper direction and tone to appropriately tackle its impactful, core theme. In a small Christian neighborhood in Newfoundland, Eliza (Michaela Kurimsky) is a proud and devoted member of her community, though unbeknownst to her peers, she secretly runs an anonymous, risqué Instagram account, posting nude photography. She deftly separates her dual lives, but when an adulterous parishioner, Sean (Peter Mooney), discovers her work, Eliza’s relationships and status within the area are thrown into jeopardy. While Eliza manages to keep her partner, Tony (Elle-Maija Tailfeathers), in the dark about her profile, it is only a matter of time before the truth surfaces. Obvious parallels can be drawn to the world’s current political climate and the Church’s attitude towards flagrant sexuality. Eliza’s frustration at being outcast, contrasted with the double standard applied to Sean—who is free to harass women despite being married—rings deep. However, lackluster pacing and editing make it difficult to connect with the proceedings. At the initial outset, Eliza performs deeds around town and occasionally goes off to inexplicably disrobe for the camera. This perplexing dichotomy becomes confusing, as her online activity is not disclosed until considerably later on. Moreover, a moment portraying Eliza and Sean together is abruptly interrupted by a brief cut to Tony driving for a few seconds before cutting back. Tony does not arrive home until the very end of the scene, so this sudden diversion merely upsets the flow. Finally, the main conflict only begins more than a third of the way through, leading to a rushed and unsatisfying conclusion. Sweet Angel Baby has the potential to spark groundbreaking discussion on gender roles and breaking the mold in conservative environments, but uninteresting characters and muddled delivery results in a half-hearted, preachy story, unclear in its intentions.
They Will Be Dust
(Written by Allison Brown) They Will Be Dust flips the terminal illness subgenre on its head by offering surrealist delights, bizarre choreography, and an unserious nature directly contradictory to its inherently somber subject matter. Writer/director Carlos Marques-Marcet appears to have drawn inspiration from Bollywood in the staging of Claudia’s (Ángela Molina) dream sequences. Each campy musical number unveils a feast for the eyes, filled with vividly bright color and an emotive score. Movement is deliciously unsettling with bodies often contorting to unusually invasive angles. These jovial fantasies playing out in Claudia’s mind are starkly juxtaposed with the tragic reality of a woman managing her brain tumor, inching closer to death with each passing day. To avoid becoming a shadow of her former self, Claudia decides to travel to Switzerland for assisted suicide, accompanied by her husband, Flavio (Alfredo Castro), who cannot imagine life without her. He agrees to end his existence as well, to the dismay of their concerned adult children. I was previously unfamiliar with Molina, but the seasoned actress is a joy to watch, effortlessly transitioning from manic to dazed to sarcastic through her nuanced facial expressions. Her performance often recalls Maryann Plunkett’s Tony Award-nominated portrayal of elder Allie grappling with Alzheimer’s disease in The Notebook, The Musical. One of the most memorable and singular movies yet this year, even through its final credits, They Will Be Dust is poised to be an awards contender.
U ARE THE UNIVERSE
(Written by Intern, Sean Barry) U Are the Universe displays a hauntingly foreseeable science fiction scenario with beautiful subtlety and restraint. In the relatively distant future, Andriy (Volodymyr Kravchuk) works as an astronaut tasked with a decade’s long solo mission. While returning, the Earth suddenly explodes, leaving him to die on a small ship with only a machine, Max (Leonid Popadko), as his lone sentient companion. Andriy begins to spiral as it is implied he is the sole survivor, that is, until a mysterious transmission turns up from another living person, Catherine (Alexia Depicker). Trapped on a doomed vessel near Saturn, Andriy makes a rash decision to rescue her, despite his ship’s fleeting resources. Kravchuk is primarily the only actor onscreen for nearly all of the runtime, yet he never falters for an instant. When he whimsically interviews himself, he believably turns progressively from glee to melancholy. Terrific vocal performances emerge from Popadko and Depicker, conveying abundant emotionality through spoken word. Although Catherine exists solely through correspondence with Andriy, Max is seen as a physical robotic presence. His design, which includes a pixelated screen to portray digital eye movements, allows for prolific characterization of a mere machine. Due to the solitary nature, writer/director Pavlo Ostrikov needed to get creative in order to continually visually stimulate the audience. The spaceship’s sets, props, and interiors appropriately create a futuristic tone. Awe-inspiring special effects showcasing outer space would fit right into a big-budget Hollywood blockbuster. Despite well composed scenes between Andriy and Catherine, an unsatisfying conclusion results in unfulfilled thematic potential. Given the setup of humanity’s demise and a position as the final remaining couple in existence, more attention should have been paid to the end of Earthly life. Nonetheless U Are the Universe employs breathtaking visuals and rich performances to communicate disturbing concepts to ponder for many years to come.
VILLAGE KEEPER
(Written by Intern, Sean Barry) Village Keeper contains plenty of prevalent, thought-provoking commentary, but remains ultimately forgettable due to a lackluster setup. Protective mother Beverly-Jean (Olunike Adeliyi) lives in an apartment with her family in urban Canada. Her daughter, Tamika (Zahra Bentham), seeks freedom and individuality, while her son, Tristan (Micah Mensah Jatoe), is still searching for his identity. Both become increasingly irritated by their mother’s constant meddling and cautiousness. Beverly-Jean’s elderly mother (Maxine Simpson) also lives with them, ignoring impending dangers of eviction and troubles in the neighborhood. Beverly-Jean has spent much of her life coping with abuse, and she must learn from her family and current circumstances how to break the cycle for the sake of future generations. Crucial themes often absent in contemporary pop culture are unapologetically analyzed in great detail. Accepting trauma and discussing domestic violence with one’s children is immensely important. Unfortunately, very little is done to present these ideas in an effective manner. Although Beverly-Jean’s journey involves coming to terms with her past experiences, no events drive these shifts in perception. After Tristan gets in trouble for a fight, Beverly-Jean asks, “Where is all this anger coming from?”—a question that mirrors the audience’s confusion, as his violent tendencies were not depicted until now. Writer/director Karen Chapman clearly has a close personal connection with the subject matter, but her presentation indicates a desire to expound harsh truths without properly introducing them. A hefty percentage of the runtime occurs after the climax, during which point characters spend roughly twenty minutes happily explaining what they have learned. Performance quality is inconsistent; some, like Micah Mensah Jatoe, feel unrealistic while others, particularly Zahra Bentham, give admirably nuanced life to roles, superseding the story’s caliber. As a whole, Village Keeper’s emotional conclusion requires far more prior framework, but it is undermined by tedium leading nowhere.
For more information about 2024’s Toronto International Film Festival or to order tickets, please head over to the official website.