A WARNING to all who see Bunny the Killer Thing during the 2015 edition of the Fantasia International Film Festival in Montreal (or, for that matter, anytime, anywhere you see the movie): DO NOT leave during the end title credits. If you do, you'll MISS one of the most delightful after-credit sequences you'll EVER see. Besides, the credit roll is accompanied by more great music which has been wending its way throughout the film. This is major league DOUBLE-DOUBLE.
Bunny The Killer Thing
Dir. Joonas Makkonen
Starring: Jari Manninen, Veera W. Vilo, Enni Ojutkangas, Katja Jaskari, Alisa Kyllönen, Anniina Koivisto, Marcus Massey, Vincent Tsang, Orwi Imanuel Ameh, Mia Ehrnrooth, Gareth Lawrence, Henry Saari, Juha-Matti Halonen
Review By Greg Klymkiw
For those of you old enough to have been stoked by the tagline for Richard Donner's 1979 Superman:
You'll believe a man can fly!
Allow me to present a contemporary Finnish equivalent:
You'll believe an erect penis can dangle in front of the windshield of a speeding car! (Even though, upon impact, the scrotum has been flattened into a crimson-coloured pancake!)
Bunny The Killer Thing coquettishly tempts me to pull a Joe Bob Briggs (the immortal drive-in movie critic from Dallas, Texas), and provide my own version of his trademark checklists including a bare-breast count, an aardvarking count, a body count, a pint count of blood spilled and, among other delectables, a description of the various "fu" elements; though I'll solemnly declare - here and now - that this jaw-dropper of a picture is amply endowed with more Penis-Fu than any movie ever made.
Ever.
There's even a Penis-Cam.
All said, I desperately wish I knew what mind-forming liquid comestibles Finnish filmmakers were breast-fed with, because time in, time out, this country not only churns out great hockey players, but directors who deliver some of the most hilarious, original and provocative motion pictures in the world.
Bunny The Killer Thing is the first feature from the 29-year-old Finnish wunderkind Joonas Makkonen who allows an animated bunny to squirt globs of bunny cum all over his director credit during the opening titles. Makkonen's previous efforts include well over 20 short films, including a pint-sized version of this full length celebration of delightfully transgressive poor taste.
Here he delivers a nicely crafted horror-comedy that serves up a rich karjalanpaisti of sex, shocks, laughs, gore, plenty of babes (including the sexiest of all, BABES WITH GUNS), a trio of hunky lads with nefarious activity on their minds, mega-action of all manner, lesbo action, homo action, masturbation action, aardvarking galore and more penises (I prefer penii) than you can shake a stick at. (And believe me when I say that plenty of penii are shaken in our general direction.) Makkonen directs this picture within an inch of his life and his insanely transgressive screenplay (the story co-written by producer Miika J. Norvanto) offers much in the way of homage to some of the worst 80s-horror-VHS-boom trash-fests while, at the same time, offering enough original twists, turns, knee-slappers and jaw-droppers to please fans of both the discriminating and indiscriminating persuasions.
In a hazelnut shell, a mad Dr. Moreau-like scientist in a remote winter vacation spot in Finland, kidnaps a best-selling author and turns him into a monster: a giant upright half-man-half-bunny-rabbit with a penis so large it makes the schwance of late porn stud Johnny "The Wadd" Holmes look like a bite-sized Haribo gummy worm.
But Why? No, seriously. WHY? Why turn someone, a celebrity no less, into a man-bunny monster bent on raping anything with a hole? That's the profound mystery at the core of this movie. When the true and utterly repulsive nature of the mystery is finally revealed, you'll not only get a humungous shock (along with the characters who discover it with utter disgust on their faces), but you might also die from laughter.
In any event, when the man-bunny escapes, a living hell is just round the corner from a group of vacationing 20-somethings (including a whole whack of babes and a passel of dweeby guys). When our vacationing young 'uns meet up with a trio of hunky Brits stranded on the winter highway, they offer to take them in for the night in their cottage so their resident happy-go-lucky-metal-loving alcoholic inbred redneck grease monkey Mise (an utterly brilliant comedic performance by Jari Manninen) can fix their car.
The trio appear to have a mysterious agenda which is, no doubt, tied into the man-bunny-monster, but with their vehicle out of commission, two of the three, decide to make the best of the situation. Their dour, mean-spirited leader Lucas (Marcus Massey) refrains from all frivolity and wishes his companions would do likewise. Dreamy Vincent (Vincent Tsang) hits it off immediately with blonde babe Sara (Enni Ojutkangas), which causes considerable consternation roiling within her brunette babe friend Nina (Veera W. Vilo) who carries the unrequited torch of Lesbos for her. The equally dreamy (and coffee creamy) Tim (Orwi Imanuel Ameh) is, for his part, counting on a trip to the Greek Isles as his drunken frolics with the burly, bearded bear of a man, Mise are charged with all manner of forbidden fruit possibilities.
And then there's that pesky Bunny. He's got a raging hard-on and he keeps bellowing for pussy. Oh, and he gets his fair share and then some. Allow me to remind you that all holes are pussies to the man-bunny-monster. This would, by the way, include gouged eye sockets.
By the end of this film, I had no idea what in the hell I just watched. You might feel likewise, but I'm sure you, like I, will have laughed so hard, upchucked several times and soared higher than a kite amidst the heavenly splendours of a film which knows absolutely no boundaries. Can a film actually be good natured and funny, even though it features a monster that rapes, a sex trafficking underground involving - Oh Christ, I can't even utter the words without wanting to both vomit and laugh, so I won't - and amidst the gore and sex, a fabulous score and song soundtrack that hammers home the crazed abandon of the whole movie?
What I know is this: Filmmaker Joonas Makkonen is like some crazed version of the Kaurismäkis with the DTs directing a horror film about a half-man-half-rabbit-monster. It's got cult film written all over it and in the immortal words of the aforementioned Drive-In Movie Critic from Dallas, I do indeed say, "Check it out."
Oh, and have I mentioned it's got babes with guns in it?
There's nothing sexier than that!
THE FILM CORNER RATING: **** 4-Stars
Bunny The Killer Thing is represented by the visionary mad men of Raven Banner Entertainment and enjoys its International Premiere at the 2015 edition of the Fantasia International Film Festival in Montreal. For dates, times and tix, visit the Festival's website HERE. And get your tix now. This picture has "hanging from the rafters" written all over its happily foul potential. Montreal will never be the same after this one. Neither will you.
Hiển thị các bài đăng có nhãn Finland. Hiển thị tất cả bài đăng
Hiển thị các bài đăng có nhãn Finland. Hiển thị tất cả bài đăng
Thứ Ba, 14 tháng 7, 2015
Chủ Nhật, 26 tháng 4, 2015
HOT DOCS 2015: LEAVING AFRICA - Review By Greg Klymkiw *****
Leaving Africa (2015)
Dir. Iiris Härmä
Review By Greg Klymkiw
Uganda is a beautiful country and so are its people, but it's been fraught with scourges like the butcher dictator Idi Amin Dada and in recent years, organized religion. The intolerance, repression and mass-manipulation continue to run rampant in the country, but there are many brave people who constantly struggle against it. Certainly, the 2013 Hot Docs presentation of Call Me Kuchu by Katherine Fairfax Wright and Malika Zouhali-Worrall was a numbing, powerful and moving experience which detailed the country's hatred towards the LGBT/GLBT community.
Leaving Africa is a new film which superbly presents its material and story with a combination of filmmaking excellence and compulsively fascinating subject matter. Friendship forged through a mutual appreciation for education is the heart that drives Iiris Härmä's truly great film.
Finland's Riitta Kujala lived in Uganda for 27 years, bringing public health education to the country and nurturing new domestic generations of those who can continue this vital work. When the film begins, she is 67 years old, already past retirement and embarking upon what might be the crowning glory of her legacy and by extension, that of Finland and the Ugandans who carry-on and support her endeavours. She begins an important workshop devoted to gender equality and sexual health aimed squarely at Uganda's religious leaders. Given that so much of the country's difficulties have stemmed from the backwards idiocy perpetrated by many of God's cheerleaders in collaboration with a government too often exhaling a miasma of extreme conservatism, this is not only an action of utmost significance, but a brave one as well.
Riitta's best friend and housemate Kata Othieno is also a chief and equal partner in all of her educational initiatives. She's as big-hearted as they come and visually, her tall, robust, full-figured beauty is a lovely contrast to that of Riitta's lean, slender and seemingly steely - dare I say, "buff" - physical countenance. At age 63, Kata could still have her pick of any litter of hunky suitors, but after an often tempestuous and outright abusive life with men, she's eschewed their place in her life - she's tired of lap-doggish gents hiding their pit bull nature. Education is her constant bedfellow and driving force.
Luckily for Riitta, she not only has a dear friend and colleague in Kata, but a family. Kata's children and grand kids are the genuinely loving progeny she avoided physically bearing herself, especially having remained single her entire life.
And then, there is the work - a life's work that these two dynamic women have shared. One of the more fascinating and delightful elements of this are the workshops for the Ugandan religious leaders. They've come from all over the country and represent a variety of faiths within the purviews of Christian and Muslim persuasions. Huge drawings of female genitalia with a pointer aimed at various parts of the equation meet the (often) open-mouths of the assembled pupils.
Role playing, discourse, questions and answers relating to sexuality and gender are engagingly presented by the filmmaker in a manner that documents the undertaking itself as well as delivering ideas and information that the participants are ultimately eager to learn about. These deftly-captured-and-cut sequences also contribute greatly to film's compelling narrative. (I'd even argue that some of these sequences might well provide a much-needed education to "enlightened" Western gentlemen who see the film, though, for me, as a descendant of sensitive, open-minded, Easter-Rite-influenced Ukrainian Cossacks, it served merely as that which has already been bred in the bone. Sort of.)
Though much of the film feels idyllic, the crushing reality of repression, tribalism and corruption rears its ugly head - threatening to scuttle Riitta and Kata's influential ongoing legacy. Riitta feels the pull of retirement and returning to her native Finland, but none of that is going to achieve fruition if an anonymous letter to the Ugandan government, fraught with horrendous allegations and serving as a virtual poison pen blackmail tome, destroys everything.
Riitta and Kata are going to fight this to the end. It might be bitter, bittersweet or uplifting, but love, friendship and dedication will persevere through whatever tempests brew up in the grand, but oft-repressed nation of Uganda.
The miss-en-scene and cutting that impel Leaving Africa are so potent that director Iiris Härmä's extraordinary film feels like one of the best independent neo-realist dramas I've seen in years - worthy, certainly, of the same pantheon occupied by the likes of the Dardennes Brothers. The difference, of course, is that we're watching a documentary and matched by filmmaking of the highest order.
The Film Corner Rating: ***** Five Stars
Leaving Africa is making its International Premiere at the 2015 edition of the Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival. Visit the Hot Docs website for dates, showtimes and tickets by clicking HERE.
Thứ Ba, 14 tháng 4, 2015
Greg Klymkiw presents his HOT DOCS 2015 HOT PICKS #1: LEAVING AFRICA *****, SURVIVORS ROWE *****, HOW TO CHANGE THE WORLD **** and A DIFFERENT DRUMMER: CELEBRATING ECCENTRICS ***½
For the next fourteen days I will only review movies I liked, loved or that totally blew me away during the 2015 Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival in Toronto, Canada. Life is short. I won't bother reviewing movies that were godawful, mediocre or just plain okay. Note my picks, mark your calendars and save some precious hours, days and weeks of your life on planet Earth. Instead, spend it travelling the world via one of cinema's most vital genres.
Leaving Africa (2015)
Dir. Iiris Härmä
Review By Greg Klymkiw
Uganda is a beautiful country and so are its people, but it's been fraught with scourges like the butcher dictator Idi Amin Dada and in recent years, organized religion. The intolerance, repression and mass-manipulation continue to run rampant in the country, but there are many brave people who constantly struggle against it. Certainly, the 2013 Hot Docs presentation of Call Me Kuchu by Katherine Fairfax Wright and Malika Zouhali-Worrall was a numbing, powerful and moving experience which detailed the country's hatred towards its LGBT community.
Leaving Africa is a new film which superbly presents its material and story with a combination of filmmaking excellence and compulsively fascinating subject matter. Friendship forged through a mutual appreciation for education is the heart that drives Iiris Härmä's truly great film. And yes, this is a film with heart.
And soul.
Finland's Riitta Kujala lived in Uganda for 27 years, bringing public health education to the country and nurturing new generations of those Ugandans who will continue this vital work. When the film begins, she is 67 years old, already past retirement and embarking upon what might be the crowning glory of her legacy and by extension, that of Finland and the Ugandans who carry-on and support her endeavours.
Riitta begins an important workshop devoted to gender equality and sexual health aimed squarely at Uganda's religious leaders. Given that so much of the country's difficulties have stemmed from the backwards idiocy perpetrated by many of God's cheerleaders in collaboration with a government too often exhaling a miasma of extreme conservatism, this is not only an action of utmost significance, but a brave one as well.
Riitta's best friend and housemate Kata Othieno devotes herself as a chief and equal partner in all of her educational initiatives. She's as big-hearted as they come and visually, her tall, robust, full-figured beauty is a striking contrast to that of Riitta's lean, slender, wiry and seemingly steely - dare I say, "buff" - physical countenance. At age 63, Kata could still have her pick of any litter of hunky suitors, but after an often tempestuous and outright abusive life with men, she's eschewed their place in her life - she's tired of lap-doggish gents hiding their inner-most pit bull nature.
Education is her constant bedfellow and driving force.
Luckily for Riitta, she not only has a dear friend and colleague in Kata, but a family. Kata's children and grand kids are the genuinely loving progeny Riitta avoided physically bearing herself, especially having remained single her entire life.
And then, there is the work - a life's work that these two dynamic women have shared. One of the more fascinating and delightful elements of this are the workshops for the Ugandan religious leaders. They've come from all over the country and represent a variety of faiths within the purviews of Christian and Muslim persuasions. Huge drawings of female genitalia with a pointer aimed at various parts of the equation meet the (often) open-mouths of the assembled pupils.
Role playing, discourse, questions and answers relating to sexuality and gender are engagingly presented by the filmmaker in a manner that documents the undertaking itself as well as delivering ideas and information that the participants are ultimately eager to learn about. These deftly-captured-and-cut sequences also contribute greatly to film's compelling narrative. I'd even argue that some of these sequences might well provide a much-needed education to "enlightened" Western gentlemen who see the film. (For me, though, as a descendant of sensitive, open-minded, Eastern-Rite-influenced Ukrainian Cossacks, the information dispensed served merely as that which has already been bred in the, uh, shall we say, bone.)
Though much of the film feels idyllic and good humoured, the crushing reality of repression, tribalism and corruption eventually rears its ugly head - threatening to scuttle Riitta and Kata's influential ongoing legacy. Riitta feels the pull of retirement and the inevitable return to her native Finland, but if an anonymous letter to the Ugandan government, a virtual poison pen blackmail tome fraught with horrendous allegations achieves its nefarious intent, everything could be swiftly destroyed.
Riitta and Kata are going to fight this to the end, though. It might be bitter, bittersweet or uplifting, but love, friendship and dedication will persevere through whatever tempests brew up in the grand, but oft-repressed nation of Uganda.
All of this works quite splendidly as the mise-en-scene and editing are so potent that director Iiris Härmä's extraordinary film feels like one of the best independent neo-realist dramas I've seen in years - worthy, certainly, of the same pantheon occupied by the likes of the Dardennes Brothers. The difference, of course, is that we're watching a documentary and it's undeniably matched by filmmaking of the highest order, which unflinchingly impels Leaving Africa into stratospheric heights.
The Film Corner Rating: ***** Five Stars
Leaving Africa is making its International Premiere at the 2015 edition of the Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival. Visit the Hot Docs website for dates, showtimes and tickets by clicking HERE.
Prd. Peter O'Brian
Review By Greg Klymkiw
I doubt you're going to see a better short film at Hot Docs 2015 than Survivors Rowe. In fact, I doubt you're going to see a better short film all year than Survivors Rowe. There's something heroic about this picture - it's terrific filmmaking to be sure, but its subjects, all grown men who share their most deeply personal reminiscences of childhood are to be exalted to the highest degree imaginable.
The other heroic element, which cannot be ignored, is the commitment of the short's Producer Peter O'Brian to have offered his expertise, passion and artistry to director Daniel Roher's fine work. O'Brian is a legend. He's a genuinely heroic figure for having produced so many of Canada's greatest motion pictures including, but not limited to The Grey Fox with the late-greats Richard Farnsworth and Jackie Burroughs in one of the great westerns of all time - period - and One Magic Christmas with the astonishing Harry Dean Stanton as one of the most evocative (and dark) guardian angels in film history in (yes) one of the great films about Christmas - period!
What is not heroic is Canada itself and the country's insidiously grotesque and hateful history with respect to our aboriginal nations, a horrifying element of which is so artfully and powerfully exposed in Roher's short film. It is one of a multitude of inhuman(e) assaults upon Canada's Native People, one that began with colonialism and frankly, continues to this very day, especially in light of the hatred and disregard expressed by Canada's Chancellor (or is it Prime Minister?) Steven Harper, the leader of our country's Nazi party (or is it, the Conservative party?).
Rowe is not only a charismatic, almost mythic figure, but he's actually taken the time to learn Native languages and dialects to converse with elders, adults his own age and kids. What nobody knows, what nobody could ever imagine, is that Ralph Rowe is a pedophile. The on-camera testaments delivered by the film's key subjects reveal some of the most harrowing, horrific and just plain malevolent acts perpetrated by this man of the wilderness, this man of God, this monster.
One of the most extraordinary things director Daniel Roher achieves here as a filmmaker is how he fashions any great narrative's need for an antagonist. On the surface, this figure is clearly Ralph Rowe, but as the film progresses, Rowe's external position as a villain, or rather, as an antagonistic force flows into the pain, sorrow, self-loathing and self-harm faced by the victims of his crimes. Then, even more extraordinarily, the antagonistic force of Rowe, his victims' suffering and the metamorphosis of this into the aforementioned process of healing, gives way to an even greater antagonist - a seemingly perpetual cycle of abuse which, is ultimately societal and must be actively addressed far more vigorously and openly than it is.
Ralph Rowe most likely sexually assaulted over 500 Native children and was, no doubt, responsible for a huge swath of suicides amongst both children and adults (not to mention residual effects upon subsequent generations). Unfortunately, the Canadian judicial system has only tried and convicted him for what amounts to a mere handful of sex crimes. He served a meagre five years in jail, was essentially handed a deal by the Crown to leave him be no matter how many accusations continue to surface and he lives a quiet, peaceful life in Surrey, British Columbia. Neither the Anglican Church nor the Boy Scouts have ever officially apologized to the victims and yet, those victims who did not commit suicide have endured decades and, if truth be told, lifetimes of living Hell.
On a purely aesthetic level, what Roher achieves here is a film that serves as a document of the suffering, torment and misery Ralph Rowe caused, but there is a strangely magical and poetic structure to the work which takes us from idyll to horror and finally and astoundingly, but perhaps necessarily, to forgiveness.
It's impossible to shake the impact this short film has. In fact, it has the sickening shock of a merciless cold-cock, blended with an elegiac, profoundly moving sense of loss and leavened with a kind of grace that not only reflects the deep humanity of the film's subjects, but shines a light of clemency upon a monster.
What the film cannot forgive, nor can any of us (I hope and pray), is the deep-seeded hatred and racism of colonialism which continues in Canada to this very day. If an Anglican Minister and Boy Scout leader viciously sexually assaulted over 500 white children, would he still be living freely in society with the legal implication that he'll never serve more incarceration for his crimes, no matter how many continue to surface?
The answer is obvious.
One final note about the heroism of the film's producer Peter O'Brian: Read his moving article in the Toronto Globe and Mail about the sexual assaults he suffered as a child and eventually came to terms with as an adult. Read it HERE.
And whatever you do, don't miss Survivors Rowe.
The Film Corner Rating: ***** Five Stars
Survivors Rowe is making its World Premiere at the 2015 edition of the Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival. Visit the Hot Docs website for dates, showtimes and tickets by clicking HERE.
How To Change The World (2015)
Dir. Jerry Rothwell
Review By Greg Klymkiw
Preamble: A few things about Robert (Bob) Hunter that contribute, for me personally, to his legendary perch in Canadian history.
As a dyed-in-the-wool Winnipegger, I especially thought it was cool, given Robert Hunter's deep concern for Canada's Aboriginal people, that he was born in the City of St. Boniface which eventually amalgamated with all the wonky neighbourhood city-states along the Red, Assiniboine and Seine Rivers of Manitoba to become - you guessed it, Winnipeg.
All this rich land, which not only became the city we all know and hate/love (plus all points north-south-east-and-west) historically belonged to the Metis Nation, but was torn from their possession by the Canadian Government's land transfer scrip system which was virtually useless except to rich white guys who knew how to push it through the complicated bureaucracy to actually cash it in. The vast majority of uprooted Metis were starving, so they sold their scrip to the rich white guys, for pennies on the dollar.
Even more interesting to me was that Hunter's birthplace in St. Boniface ended up being the one community which contributed the most to Manitoba becoming (even now) Canada's largest French-speaking region outside of Quebec. Why? Many of the displaced Metis were also targets for violence because of the 1870 Louis Riel wars against the corrupt rich white guys of Winnipeg and the eastern power-brokers who held a vicelike grip upon the government of Canada. This resulted in a huge number of Metis forcing their Native heritage underground and bringing their French heritage to the fore and living in - you guessed it, St. Boniface.
His tenure as a columnist at the Winnipeg Tribune and Vancouver Sun was before my time. I didn't even become aware of him as a journalist until I moved to Toronto in the early 90s and began watching CITY-TV (when it actually had a real personality thanks to its eventually-departed head Moses Znaimer). Here, I began to enjoy the amazingly cool, almost Hunter S. Thompson-like "environmental reporter and commentator. I was soon compelled to begin reading his books wherein I discovered that he was Bob Hunter, the heart, soul and public face of the environmental group Greenpeace.
This, for me, was virtually cooler-than-cool and when he passed away in 2005, I was genuinely saddened that we'd lost him. Thankfully, this film now exists. It's not a biographical documentary of Robert (Bob) Hunter, but in many ways, it might as well be.

And now, the Film Review proper:
There were many things about Hunter I didn't know after all these years and I'm grateful to director Jerry Rothwell for his almost-epic-like motion picture documentary How To Change The World which presents a side of this great Canadian that was not only fresh to my already-admiring eyes, but kind of jettisons Hunter into some supreme inter-stellar glowing orb of coolness.
Rothwell poured over hundreds of 16mm rolls of film that had been canned and unopened since the 1970s. Seeing, pretty much before his very eyes, the visual history of the Greenpeace organization, Rothwell consulted with Hunter's colleagues, foes, conducting fresh interviews with all of them, blending the result of Herculean research and expertly selected and edited footage from the Greenpeace Archives. (The fact that Hunter was so brilliantly media-savvy pretty much accounts for this wealth of material even existing.)
What we get is the story of a respected counter-culture columnist who aligns himself with a motley assortment of friends and colleagues (most of them of the 60s/70s "hippie" persuasion) to head out on a boat in an attempt to stop nuclear testing on a remote island in the Pacific Ocean and then, with the same bunch, to go tearing after Russian sailors butchering whales up and down the coast of the Pacific Northwest. The campaigns continued and somewhere along the way, the movement of Greenpeace was formed.
With both the existing archival footage and the new interviews, Rothwell has painted an indelible portrait - not only of the key events in the movement, but the individuals themselves - as disparate a cast of characters you could ever imagine. What makes them cool is how different they are as people, but as such, they each bring individual qualities to the movement that had a symbiotic relationship - for a time. As is the won't of anything or anyone growing beyond initial beginnings, egos as well as legitimate desires/directions begin to rear their ugly heads and minor cracks in the "vessel" become tectonic plates, yielding high-Richter-scale fractures.
In addition to the dazzling filmmaking, I was swept away onto the high seas and weed-clouded back rooms of Greenpeace thanks to the perfectly selected and abundant readings of Bob Hunter's exceptional reads. Embodying Hunter is the magnificent character actor Barry Pepper who delivers us the man's words with the kind of emotion which goes so far beyond "narration". Pepper captures the soul of Hunter impeccably. It's a brilliant performance. (If anyone does a biopic of Hunter, Pepper is the MAN!!!
The first two-thirds of the movie is compulsive viewing. The first third, focusing upon seafaring derring-do is nail-bitingly thrilling. With Bob Hunter at the helm of some totally crazy-ass dangerous antics - like some mad, dope-smoking, Sterling-Hayden lookalike - Rothwell creates a veritable action picture on the high seas with an obsessive Captain Ahab targeting not whales, but the hunters of whales. (So much of the film is charged with a great selection of period hit songs and a gorgeous original score by Lesley Barber also.)
Who'd have thought environmental activism could be as thrilling as Patrick O'Brian's Aubrey-Maturin "Master and Commander" adventures? The middle section begins focusing on the leaks in the organizational battleship that became Greenpeace. Mixing in more derring-do with internal conflicts is easily as thrilling as the intrigue-elements of O'Brian's high-seas swashbucklers.
The final third of the film tends to fall by the wayside a touch. It's not Rothwell's doing, as that of - gasp - real life. There's a great deal of sadness and acrimony in this section of the film and part of me wishes that life didn't throw the kind of curve-balls that surprise your favourite batter at the plate into striking out. This is ultimately a minor quibble though, in light of the sheer force, power and entertainment value of the picture. What epics don't suffer from a sag or three? At least this one eventually builds to a note of well deserved and earned high notes and the movie finally packs a major one-two emotional punch. When this happens, tears might well be flowing amongst many and the lapses of real life will be fleeting, especially when you exit the cinema feeling, "Goddamn! That was one HELL of a good show!"
The Film Corner Rating: **** Four Stars
How To Change The World is making its Canadian Premiere at the 2015 edition of the Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival. Visit the Hot Docs website for dates, showtimes and tickets by clicking HERE.
A Different Drummer: Celebrating Eccentrics (2014)
Dir. John Zaritzky
Review By Greg Klymkiw
Marching to the beat of one's own drum is not without merit and the title alone was enough to pique my curiosity, but then, my heart sank. During the first few minutes of A Different Drummer: Celebrating Eccentrics, I felt primed to hate it. Why wouldn't I? I detest both whimsy and standard TV-style docs - both of which seem overbearingly present within the picture's opening.
We get the digestible bite-sized thesis in which we learn how a ten-year study revealed that eccentrics are healthier, happier and indeed, manage to live longer than everybody else. We then get the de rigueur snippets of introductory interviews from what will be our wild, wooly and wacky subjects - a lot of which are all set to a frightfully jaunty musical score.
Ugh was dancing across my cerebellum and I almost flushed the sucker down the toilet bowl of unmentionables in order to slap on a different doc, but then, as if by magic, genuinely delightful movie magic began to snuggle up to me and the next ninety-or-so minutes yielded one of the happiest, funniest and moving little pictures I'd seen in awhile.
Zaritzky clearly loves his subjects, but not to the film's detriment. He settles in on each glorious nutcase (a man who lives in caves, a zany inventor, a duck lady, a "joke" politician, a man who celebrates a "useless" American president and one real lollapalooza I won't spoil for you here) with sensitivity and good humour. He's never laughing at them and neither will you. Some you'll laugh with and others you might even need to shed a few droplets of ocular moisture.
At the end of the day, it has been said that I'm eccentric. As such, I luxuriated in Zaritzky's sweet, lovely ode to madness of the most glorious kind and I'd be delighted to host any one of these people in my own home.
The thesis is proven, the whimsy in the opening a minor aberration and one of the more delightful feel-good documentaries made in recent years won me over completely.
Oh, and the best news: I look forward to a long, healthy and happy life.
The Film Corner Rating: ***½ Three-and-a-half Stars
A Different Drummer is making its Toronto Premiere at the 2015 edition of the Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival. Visit the Hot Docs website for dates, showtimes and tickets by clicking HERE.
Leaving Africa (2015)
Dir. Iiris Härmä
Review By Greg Klymkiw
Uganda is a beautiful country and so are its people, but it's been fraught with scourges like the butcher dictator Idi Amin Dada and in recent years, organized religion. The intolerance, repression and mass-manipulation continue to run rampant in the country, but there are many brave people who constantly struggle against it. Certainly, the 2013 Hot Docs presentation of Call Me Kuchu by Katherine Fairfax Wright and Malika Zouhali-Worrall was a numbing, powerful and moving experience which detailed the country's hatred towards its LGBT community.
Leaving Africa is a new film which superbly presents its material and story with a combination of filmmaking excellence and compulsively fascinating subject matter. Friendship forged through a mutual appreciation for education is the heart that drives Iiris Härmä's truly great film. And yes, this is a film with heart.
And soul.
Finland's Riitta Kujala lived in Uganda for 27 years, bringing public health education to the country and nurturing new generations of those Ugandans who will continue this vital work. When the film begins, she is 67 years old, already past retirement and embarking upon what might be the crowning glory of her legacy and by extension, that of Finland and the Ugandans who carry-on and support her endeavours.
Riitta begins an important workshop devoted to gender equality and sexual health aimed squarely at Uganda's religious leaders. Given that so much of the country's difficulties have stemmed from the backwards idiocy perpetrated by many of God's cheerleaders in collaboration with a government too often exhaling a miasma of extreme conservatism, this is not only an action of utmost significance, but a brave one as well.
Riitta's best friend and housemate Kata Othieno devotes herself as a chief and equal partner in all of her educational initiatives. She's as big-hearted as they come and visually, her tall, robust, full-figured beauty is a striking contrast to that of Riitta's lean, slender, wiry and seemingly steely - dare I say, "buff" - physical countenance. At age 63, Kata could still have her pick of any litter of hunky suitors, but after an often tempestuous and outright abusive life with men, she's eschewed their place in her life - she's tired of lap-doggish gents hiding their inner-most pit bull nature.
Education is her constant bedfellow and driving force.
Luckily for Riitta, she not only has a dear friend and colleague in Kata, but a family. Kata's children and grand kids are the genuinely loving progeny Riitta avoided physically bearing herself, especially having remained single her entire life.
And then, there is the work - a life's work that these two dynamic women have shared. One of the more fascinating and delightful elements of this are the workshops for the Ugandan religious leaders. They've come from all over the country and represent a variety of faiths within the purviews of Christian and Muslim persuasions. Huge drawings of female genitalia with a pointer aimed at various parts of the equation meet the (often) open-mouths of the assembled pupils.
Role playing, discourse, questions and answers relating to sexuality and gender are engagingly presented by the filmmaker in a manner that documents the undertaking itself as well as delivering ideas and information that the participants are ultimately eager to learn about. These deftly-captured-and-cut sequences also contribute greatly to film's compelling narrative. I'd even argue that some of these sequences might well provide a much-needed education to "enlightened" Western gentlemen who see the film. (For me, though, as a descendant of sensitive, open-minded, Eastern-Rite-influenced Ukrainian Cossacks, the information dispensed served merely as that which has already been bred in the, uh, shall we say, bone.)
Though much of the film feels idyllic and good humoured, the crushing reality of repression, tribalism and corruption eventually rears its ugly head - threatening to scuttle Riitta and Kata's influential ongoing legacy. Riitta feels the pull of retirement and the inevitable return to her native Finland, but if an anonymous letter to the Ugandan government, a virtual poison pen blackmail tome fraught with horrendous allegations achieves its nefarious intent, everything could be swiftly destroyed.
Riitta and Kata are going to fight this to the end, though. It might be bitter, bittersweet or uplifting, but love, friendship and dedication will persevere through whatever tempests brew up in the grand, but oft-repressed nation of Uganda.
All of this works quite splendidly as the mise-en-scene and editing are so potent that director Iiris Härmä's extraordinary film feels like one of the best independent neo-realist dramas I've seen in years - worthy, certainly, of the same pantheon occupied by the likes of the Dardennes Brothers. The difference, of course, is that we're watching a documentary and it's undeniably matched by filmmaking of the highest order, which unflinchingly impels Leaving Africa into stratospheric heights.
The Film Corner Rating: ***** Five Stars
Leaving Africa is making its International Premiere at the 2015 edition of the Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival. Visit the Hot Docs website for dates, showtimes and tickets by clicking HERE.
![]() |
This is one of purportedly hundreds of children viciously & mercilessly sexually assaulted by former Anglican Minister & Boy Scout leader Ralph Rowe. |
Survivors Rowe (2015)
Dir. Daniel RoherPrd. Peter O'Brian
Review By Greg Klymkiw
I doubt you're going to see a better short film at Hot Docs 2015 than Survivors Rowe. In fact, I doubt you're going to see a better short film all year than Survivors Rowe. There's something heroic about this picture - it's terrific filmmaking to be sure, but its subjects, all grown men who share their most deeply personal reminiscences of childhood are to be exalted to the highest degree imaginable.
The other heroic element, which cannot be ignored, is the commitment of the short's Producer Peter O'Brian to have offered his expertise, passion and artistry to director Daniel Roher's fine work. O'Brian is a legend. He's a genuinely heroic figure for having produced so many of Canada's greatest motion pictures including, but not limited to The Grey Fox with the late-greats Richard Farnsworth and Jackie Burroughs in one of the great westerns of all time - period - and One Magic Christmas with the astonishing Harry Dean Stanton as one of the most evocative (and dark) guardian angels in film history in (yes) one of the great films about Christmas - period!
What is not heroic is Canada itself and the country's insidiously grotesque and hateful history with respect to our aboriginal nations, a horrifying element of which is so artfully and powerfully exposed in Roher's short film. It is one of a multitude of inhuman(e) assaults upon Canada's Native People, one that began with colonialism and frankly, continues to this very day, especially in light of the hatred and disregard expressed by Canada's Chancellor (or is it Prime Minister?) Steven Harper, the leader of our country's Nazi party (or is it, the Conservative party?).
Rowe is not only a charismatic, almost mythic figure, but he's actually taken the time to learn Native languages and dialects to converse with elders, adults his own age and kids. What nobody knows, what nobody could ever imagine, is that Ralph Rowe is a pedophile. The on-camera testaments delivered by the film's key subjects reveal some of the most harrowing, horrific and just plain malevolent acts perpetrated by this man of the wilderness, this man of God, this monster.
One of the most extraordinary things director Daniel Roher achieves here as a filmmaker is how he fashions any great narrative's need for an antagonist. On the surface, this figure is clearly Ralph Rowe, but as the film progresses, Rowe's external position as a villain, or rather, as an antagonistic force flows into the pain, sorrow, self-loathing and self-harm faced by the victims of his crimes. Then, even more extraordinarily, the antagonistic force of Rowe, his victims' suffering and the metamorphosis of this into the aforementioned process of healing, gives way to an even greater antagonist - a seemingly perpetual cycle of abuse which, is ultimately societal and must be actively addressed far more vigorously and openly than it is.
Ralph Rowe most likely sexually assaulted over 500 Native children and was, no doubt, responsible for a huge swath of suicides amongst both children and adults (not to mention residual effects upon subsequent generations). Unfortunately, the Canadian judicial system has only tried and convicted him for what amounts to a mere handful of sex crimes. He served a meagre five years in jail, was essentially handed a deal by the Crown to leave him be no matter how many accusations continue to surface and he lives a quiet, peaceful life in Surrey, British Columbia. Neither the Anglican Church nor the Boy Scouts have ever officially apologized to the victims and yet, those victims who did not commit suicide have endured decades and, if truth be told, lifetimes of living Hell.
On a purely aesthetic level, what Roher achieves here is a film that serves as a document of the suffering, torment and misery Ralph Rowe caused, but there is a strangely magical and poetic structure to the work which takes us from idyll to horror and finally and astoundingly, but perhaps necessarily, to forgiveness.
It's impossible to shake the impact this short film has. In fact, it has the sickening shock of a merciless cold-cock, blended with an elegiac, profoundly moving sense of loss and leavened with a kind of grace that not only reflects the deep humanity of the film's subjects, but shines a light of clemency upon a monster.
What the film cannot forgive, nor can any of us (I hope and pray), is the deep-seeded hatred and racism of colonialism which continues in Canada to this very day. If an Anglican Minister and Boy Scout leader viciously sexually assaulted over 500 white children, would he still be living freely in society with the legal implication that he'll never serve more incarceration for his crimes, no matter how many continue to surface?
The answer is obvious.
![]() |
This is Ralph Rowe. He is a convicted pedophile living peacefully and freely in Surrey, British Columbia. It might be helpful to have MORE recent photographs circulated. |
And whatever you do, don't miss Survivors Rowe.
The Film Corner Rating: ***** Five Stars
Survivors Rowe is making its World Premiere at the 2015 edition of the Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival. Visit the Hot Docs website for dates, showtimes and tickets by clicking HERE.
How To Change The World (2015)
Dir. Jerry Rothwell
Review By Greg Klymkiw
Preamble: A few things about Robert (Bob) Hunter that contribute, for me personally, to his legendary perch in Canadian history.
"If we wait for the meek to inherit the earth, there won't be anything left to inherit" - Robert HunterRobert (Bob) Hunter was many things. Mostly, I just always thought he was cool. And well, you'd kind of have to be that to have accomplished so much in so short a time (he died of cancer at age 63).
As a dyed-in-the-wool Winnipegger, I especially thought it was cool, given Robert Hunter's deep concern for Canada's Aboriginal people, that he was born in the City of St. Boniface which eventually amalgamated with all the wonky neighbourhood city-states along the Red, Assiniboine and Seine Rivers of Manitoba to become - you guessed it, Winnipeg.
Even more interesting to me was that Hunter's birthplace in St. Boniface ended up being the one community which contributed the most to Manitoba becoming (even now) Canada's largest French-speaking region outside of Quebec. Why? Many of the displaced Metis were also targets for violence because of the 1870 Louis Riel wars against the corrupt rich white guys of Winnipeg and the eastern power-brokers who held a vicelike grip upon the government of Canada. This resulted in a huge number of Metis forcing their Native heritage underground and bringing their French heritage to the fore and living in - you guessed it, St. Boniface.
His tenure as a columnist at the Winnipeg Tribune and Vancouver Sun was before my time. I didn't even become aware of him as a journalist until I moved to Toronto in the early 90s and began watching CITY-TV (when it actually had a real personality thanks to its eventually-departed head Moses Znaimer). Here, I began to enjoy the amazingly cool, almost Hunter S. Thompson-like "environmental reporter and commentator. I was soon compelled to begin reading his books wherein I discovered that he was Bob Hunter, the heart, soul and public face of the environmental group Greenpeace.
This, for me, was virtually cooler-than-cool and when he passed away in 2005, I was genuinely saddened that we'd lost him. Thankfully, this film now exists. It's not a biographical documentary of Robert (Bob) Hunter, but in many ways, it might as well be.

And now, the Film Review proper:
There were many things about Hunter I didn't know after all these years and I'm grateful to director Jerry Rothwell for his almost-epic-like motion picture documentary How To Change The World which presents a side of this great Canadian that was not only fresh to my already-admiring eyes, but kind of jettisons Hunter into some supreme inter-stellar glowing orb of coolness.
Rothwell poured over hundreds of 16mm rolls of film that had been canned and unopened since the 1970s. Seeing, pretty much before his very eyes, the visual history of the Greenpeace organization, Rothwell consulted with Hunter's colleagues, foes, conducting fresh interviews with all of them, blending the result of Herculean research and expertly selected and edited footage from the Greenpeace Archives. (The fact that Hunter was so brilliantly media-savvy pretty much accounts for this wealth of material even existing.)
What we get is the story of a respected counter-culture columnist who aligns himself with a motley assortment of friends and colleagues (most of them of the 60s/70s "hippie" persuasion) to head out on a boat in an attempt to stop nuclear testing on a remote island in the Pacific Ocean and then, with the same bunch, to go tearing after Russian sailors butchering whales up and down the coast of the Pacific Northwest. The campaigns continued and somewhere along the way, the movement of Greenpeace was formed.
With both the existing archival footage and the new interviews, Rothwell has painted an indelible portrait - not only of the key events in the movement, but the individuals themselves - as disparate a cast of characters you could ever imagine. What makes them cool is how different they are as people, but as such, they each bring individual qualities to the movement that had a symbiotic relationship - for a time. As is the won't of anything or anyone growing beyond initial beginnings, egos as well as legitimate desires/directions begin to rear their ugly heads and minor cracks in the "vessel" become tectonic plates, yielding high-Richter-scale fractures.
In addition to the dazzling filmmaking, I was swept away onto the high seas and weed-clouded back rooms of Greenpeace thanks to the perfectly selected and abundant readings of Bob Hunter's exceptional reads. Embodying Hunter is the magnificent character actor Barry Pepper who delivers us the man's words with the kind of emotion which goes so far beyond "narration". Pepper captures the soul of Hunter impeccably. It's a brilliant performance. (If anyone does a biopic of Hunter, Pepper is the MAN!!!
The first two-thirds of the movie is compulsive viewing. The first third, focusing upon seafaring derring-do is nail-bitingly thrilling. With Bob Hunter at the helm of some totally crazy-ass dangerous antics - like some mad, dope-smoking, Sterling-Hayden lookalike - Rothwell creates a veritable action picture on the high seas with an obsessive Captain Ahab targeting not whales, but the hunters of whales. (So much of the film is charged with a great selection of period hit songs and a gorgeous original score by Lesley Barber also.)
Who'd have thought environmental activism could be as thrilling as Patrick O'Brian's Aubrey-Maturin "Master and Commander" adventures? The middle section begins focusing on the leaks in the organizational battleship that became Greenpeace. Mixing in more derring-do with internal conflicts is easily as thrilling as the intrigue-elements of O'Brian's high-seas swashbucklers.
The final third of the film tends to fall by the wayside a touch. It's not Rothwell's doing, as that of - gasp - real life. There's a great deal of sadness and acrimony in this section of the film and part of me wishes that life didn't throw the kind of curve-balls that surprise your favourite batter at the plate into striking out. This is ultimately a minor quibble though, in light of the sheer force, power and entertainment value of the picture. What epics don't suffer from a sag or three? At least this one eventually builds to a note of well deserved and earned high notes and the movie finally packs a major one-two emotional punch. When this happens, tears might well be flowing amongst many and the lapses of real life will be fleeting, especially when you exit the cinema feeling, "Goddamn! That was one HELL of a good show!"
The Film Corner Rating: **** Four Stars
How To Change The World is making its Canadian Premiere at the 2015 edition of the Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival. Visit the Hot Docs website for dates, showtimes and tickets by clicking HERE.
A Different Drummer: Celebrating Eccentrics (2014)
Dir. John Zaritzky
Review By Greg Klymkiw
Marching to the beat of one's own drum is not without merit and the title alone was enough to pique my curiosity, but then, my heart sank. During the first few minutes of A Different Drummer: Celebrating Eccentrics, I felt primed to hate it. Why wouldn't I? I detest both whimsy and standard TV-style docs - both of which seem overbearingly present within the picture's opening.
We get the digestible bite-sized thesis in which we learn how a ten-year study revealed that eccentrics are healthier, happier and indeed, manage to live longer than everybody else. We then get the de rigueur snippets of introductory interviews from what will be our wild, wooly and wacky subjects - a lot of which are all set to a frightfully jaunty musical score.
Ugh was dancing across my cerebellum and I almost flushed the sucker down the toilet bowl of unmentionables in order to slap on a different doc, but then, as if by magic, genuinely delightful movie magic began to snuggle up to me and the next ninety-or-so minutes yielded one of the happiest, funniest and moving little pictures I'd seen in awhile.
Zaritzky clearly loves his subjects, but not to the film's detriment. He settles in on each glorious nutcase (a man who lives in caves, a zany inventor, a duck lady, a "joke" politician, a man who celebrates a "useless" American president and one real lollapalooza I won't spoil for you here) with sensitivity and good humour. He's never laughing at them and neither will you. Some you'll laugh with and others you might even need to shed a few droplets of ocular moisture.
At the end of the day, it has been said that I'm eccentric. As such, I luxuriated in Zaritzky's sweet, lovely ode to madness of the most glorious kind and I'd be delighted to host any one of these people in my own home.
The thesis is proven, the whimsy in the opening a minor aberration and one of the more delightful feel-good documentaries made in recent years won me over completely.
Oh, and the best news: I look forward to a long, healthy and happy life.
The Film Corner Rating: ***½ Three-and-a-half Stars
A Different Drummer is making its Toronto Premiere at the 2015 edition of the Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival. Visit the Hot Docs website for dates, showtimes and tickets by clicking HERE.
Nhãn:
***,
****,
*****,
***½,
2014,
2015,
Canada,
Clutch PR,
Daniel Roher,
Finland,
GAT PR,
Greg Klymkiw,
Hot Docs 2015,
Iiris Härmä,
Jerry Rothwell,
John Zaritzky,
Peter O'Brian,
Silversalt PR,
UK,
VKPR
THE PUNK SYNDROME - Review By Greg Klymkiw - SEE IT OR DIE, YOU MOTHER FUCKERS!
In anticipation of the upcoming 2015 Toronto Hot Docs International Festival of Documentary Cinema, The Film Corner continues its thrill-packed countdown to said event with a review of The Punk Syndrom.
Since its debut at Hot Docs 2012, a hoped-for Blu-Ray or even DVD release of The Punk Syndrome did not come to pass. The picture is currently available for rent or download at iTunes via Kinosmith which is better than not seeing it at all, but this is a movie that DEMANDS either theatrical screenings and/or home viewing via the highest resolution possible (which, ultimately, is Blu-Ray).
Given that the film's subjects, "Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day" (PKN) have been selected to represent Finland in this year's Eurovision Song Contest, I'm hoping for an enterprising home video release at some point which not only features the best picture and sound, but a whole whack of extras. All the oddsmakers are putting their weight behind these guys as they've made history with having the first punk song ever invited into this prestigious competition.
The film itself is not only superbly crafted, but PKN are hardcore punks who embrace the anger-charged musical form to create the most phenomenal insight into what it means to be mentally disabled and forced to live in a world of fluorescent lighting, rigid control, shitty food and seemingly random rules as prescribed within the cold, institutional world of their homes for life.
The Punk Syndrome (2012)
dir. Jukka Kärkkäinen & J-P Passi
Starring: Pertti Kurikka, Kari Aalto, Sami Helle, Toni Välitalo
("Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day" AKA "PKN")
Review By Greg Klymkiw
"Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day" is, without question, one of the greatest punk bands of all time. They are the unforgettable subjects of The Punk Syndrome, a breathtaking feature documentary that declares: "I demand your immediate attention or you die, motherfucker!" I'm somewhat ashamed to admit I had never heard of the band before. Now, I'll never forget them! Neither will you. This quartet of hard-core, kick-ass, take-no-fucking-prisoners sons of bitches pull no musical punches. They slam you in the face with repeated roundhouses - turning your flesh into pulpy, coarsely-ground hamburger meat. In true punk spirit, they crap on hypocrisy, celebrate a shackle-free life and dare your pulse not to pound with maniacal abandon.
The band is, of course, from Finland. This is the great land of the brown bear, the Capercaillie grouse and the nearly-extinct, but damned-if-they'll-go-down-without-a-fight Saimaa Ringed Seal - a country with one of the largest land masses and smallest populations in Europe that spawned the great glam group Hanoi Rocks, the brilliant hockey player Veli-Pekka Ketola and one of the world's greatest filmmakers, Aki Kaurismäki.
And now, Finland can boast of generating one the world's great punk bands, "Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day". With Pertti Kurikka's grinding lead guitar, Kari Aalto's powerhouse vocals, Sami Helle's muscular bass and Toni Välitalo on drums (a veritable punk rock Gene Krupa), this tight unit commands audiences with a power that borders on mesmerism.
Their songs - many of them ripped straight from Kurikka's diaries - take aim at government corruption, mindless bureaucracy and pedicures. Yes, pedicures!
Early in the film, Pertti Kurikka explains:
Writing a diary is important to me. I can release my anger. It is especially helpful to have a bad day. I’ll write in my diary that Pertti is a shithead, that Pertti is an asshole and that Pertti is a faggot and a shit-goddamn-asshole. Pertti will be stabbed. Pertti will be punched in the face. Pertti will be strangled to death.
Not every song the band sings spews venom, though. Giving a concert in a public square, the jaws of old ladies hit the ground, while young party animals hoist their fists in the air as the band extols the considerable virtues of mundane, but pleasant activities with the following lyrics:
It was a Sunday
I went to church
I had coffee
I took a dump
Three kick-ass chords and four glorious lines and we're hooked.
The movie follows the band from practising to recording, from jamming to performing, relationships with family, friends, fans and women. There are the usual creative differences between the band - some serious, and others, a bit more tongue in cheek. At one point, Kari complains to Kurikka, "When you write riffs for songs, don’t write such difficult ones. Write easy ones."
One of the most powerful sequences in the film, one that enshrines the picture as one of the truly great rock documentaries, is when the band plays a gig at a club in Tampere. The performance is mind-blowing and the audience is electric.
The band sings:
Decision-Makers lock people up
In closed rooms
But we don’t wanna be in those rooms
Nobody looks after us
Nobody comes to visit us
What’s going to happen
To us orphans in those rooms?
Decision-makers cheat
Cheaters make decisions
They don’t give a shit
About us disabled
Decision-makers cheat
Cheaters make decisions
They don’t give a shit
About us disabled
In the dressing room after a truly intense performance, the band is triumphant. A beaming Kurikka declares, "This is as good as it gets".
And WHAMMO!
A breathtaking cut to a shot worthy of Ulrich Seidl - one that captures a terrible beauty of the character-bereft building the band lives in, a blue sky and a magic hour sun.
And yes, this is a band that writes and performs songs from the pits of their respective guts, from experience - their unique experience in the world as mentally disabled men.
Brave, passionate and talented men.
And yes, mentally disabled.
And they are so cool.
How cool?
They recorded their first single on vinyl.
And now, they are competing in the 2015 Eurovision Song Contest.
That's how cool!
Just like this movie!
"The Punk Syndrome" is available via Kinosmith on iTunes
Since its debut at Hot Docs 2012, a hoped-for Blu-Ray or even DVD release of The Punk Syndrome did not come to pass. The picture is currently available for rent or download at iTunes via Kinosmith which is better than not seeing it at all, but this is a movie that DEMANDS either theatrical screenings and/or home viewing via the highest resolution possible (which, ultimately, is Blu-Ray).
Given that the film's subjects, "Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day" (PKN) have been selected to represent Finland in this year's Eurovision Song Contest, I'm hoping for an enterprising home video release at some point which not only features the best picture and sound, but a whole whack of extras. All the oddsmakers are putting their weight behind these guys as they've made history with having the first punk song ever invited into this prestigious competition.
The film itself is not only superbly crafted, but PKN are hardcore punks who embrace the anger-charged musical form to create the most phenomenal insight into what it means to be mentally disabled and forced to live in a world of fluorescent lighting, rigid control, shitty food and seemingly random rules as prescribed within the cold, institutional world of their homes for life.
The Punk Syndrome (2012)
dir. Jukka Kärkkäinen & J-P Passi
Starring: Pertti Kurikka, Kari Aalto, Sami Helle, Toni Välitalo
("Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day" AKA "PKN")
Review By Greg Klymkiw
"Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day" is, without question, one of the greatest punk bands of all time. They are the unforgettable subjects of The Punk Syndrome, a breathtaking feature documentary that declares: "I demand your immediate attention or you die, motherfucker!" I'm somewhat ashamed to admit I had never heard of the band before. Now, I'll never forget them! Neither will you. This quartet of hard-core, kick-ass, take-no-fucking-prisoners sons of bitches pull no musical punches. They slam you in the face with repeated roundhouses - turning your flesh into pulpy, coarsely-ground hamburger meat. In true punk spirit, they crap on hypocrisy, celebrate a shackle-free life and dare your pulse not to pound with maniacal abandon.
The band is, of course, from Finland. This is the great land of the brown bear, the Capercaillie grouse and the nearly-extinct, but damned-if-they'll-go-down-without-a-fight Saimaa Ringed Seal - a country with one of the largest land masses and smallest populations in Europe that spawned the great glam group Hanoi Rocks, the brilliant hockey player Veli-Pekka Ketola and one of the world's greatest filmmakers, Aki Kaurismäki.
And now, Finland can boast of generating one the world's great punk bands, "Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day". With Pertti Kurikka's grinding lead guitar, Kari Aalto's powerhouse vocals, Sami Helle's muscular bass and Toni Välitalo on drums (a veritable punk rock Gene Krupa), this tight unit commands audiences with a power that borders on mesmerism.
Their songs - many of them ripped straight from Kurikka's diaries - take aim at government corruption, mindless bureaucracy and pedicures. Yes, pedicures!
Early in the film, Pertti Kurikka explains:
Writing a diary is important to me. I can release my anger. It is especially helpful to have a bad day. I’ll write in my diary that Pertti is a shithead, that Pertti is an asshole and that Pertti is a faggot and a shit-goddamn-asshole. Pertti will be stabbed. Pertti will be punched in the face. Pertti will be strangled to death.
Not every song the band sings spews venom, though. Giving a concert in a public square, the jaws of old ladies hit the ground, while young party animals hoist their fists in the air as the band extols the considerable virtues of mundane, but pleasant activities with the following lyrics:
It was a Sunday
I went to church
I had coffee
I took a dump
Three kick-ass chords and four glorious lines and we're hooked.
The movie follows the band from practising to recording, from jamming to performing, relationships with family, friends, fans and women. There are the usual creative differences between the band - some serious, and others, a bit more tongue in cheek. At one point, Kari complains to Kurikka, "When you write riffs for songs, don’t write such difficult ones. Write easy ones."
One of the most powerful sequences in the film, one that enshrines the picture as one of the truly great rock documentaries, is when the band plays a gig at a club in Tampere. The performance is mind-blowing and the audience is electric.
The band sings:
Decision-Makers lock people up
In closed rooms
But we don’t wanna be in those rooms
Nobody looks after us
Nobody comes to visit us
What’s going to happen
To us orphans in those rooms?
Decision-makers cheat
Cheaters make decisions
They don’t give a shit
About us disabled
Decision-makers cheat
Cheaters make decisions
They don’t give a shit
About us disabled
In the dressing room after a truly intense performance, the band is triumphant. A beaming Kurikka declares, "This is as good as it gets".
And WHAMMO!
A breathtaking cut to a shot worthy of Ulrich Seidl - one that captures a terrible beauty of the character-bereft building the band lives in, a blue sky and a magic hour sun.
And yes, this is a band that writes and performs songs from the pits of their respective guts, from experience - their unique experience in the world as mentally disabled men.
Brave, passionate and talented men.
And yes, mentally disabled.
And they are so cool.
How cool?
They recorded their first single on vinyl.
And now, they are competing in the 2015 Eurovision Song Contest.
That's how cool!
Just like this movie!
"The Punk Syndrome" is available via Kinosmith on iTunes
Nhãn:
*****,
2012,
Concert,
Documentary,
Eurovision Song Contest,
Finland,
Greg Klymkiw,
iTunes,
J-P Passi,
Jukka Kärkkäinen,
Kinosmith,
Norway,
Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day,
PKN,
Punk Rock,
Sweden
Thứ Hai, 22 tháng 12, 2014
RARE EXPORTS: A CHRISTMAS TALE - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Grim Yuletide from Finland
Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale (2010)
dir. Jalmari Helander
Starring: Onni Tommila, Jorma Tommila
Review By Greg Klymkiw
While it is an indisputable truth that Jesus is the reason for the season. the eventual commercialization of Christmas inevitably yielded the fantasy figure of Santa Claus, the jolly, porcine dispenser of toys to children. Living with his equally corpulent wife, Mrs. Claus, a passel of dwarves and a herd of reindeer at the North Pole, Santa purportedly toils away in his workshop for the one day of the year when he can distribute the fruits of his labour into the greedy palms of children the world over.
Is it any wonder we forget that Christmas is to celebrate the birth of Our Lord Baby Jesus H. Christ?
In the movies, however, we have had numerous dramatic renderings of the true spirit of Christmas - tales of redemption and forgiveness like the Alistair Sim version of A Christmas Carol, Frank Capra's immortal It's a Wonderful Life and Phillip Borsos's One Magic Christmas, but fewer and far between are the Christmas movies that address the malevolence of the season celebrating Christ's Birth. There's the brilliant Joan Collins segment in the Amicus production of Tales From the Crypt, the Silent Night Deadly Night franchise and, perhaps greatest of all, that magnificent Canadian movie Black Christmas from Bob (Porky's) Clark.
And now, add Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale to your perennial Baby-Jesus-Worship viewings! This creepy, terrifying, darkly hilarious and dazzlingly directed bauble of Yuletide perversity takes us on a myth-infused journey to the northern border between Finland and Lapland where a crazed archeologist and an evil corporation have discovered and unearthed the resting place of the REAL Santa Claus.
When Santa is finally freed from the purgatorial tomb, he runs amuck and indulges himself in a crazed killing spree - devouring all the local livestock before feeding upon both adults and children who do not subscribe to the basic tenet of Santa's philosophy of: "You better be Good!" A motley crew of local hunters and farmers, having lost their livelihood, embark upon an obsessive hunt for Santa. They capture him alive and hold him ransom to score a huge settlement from the Rare Exports corporation who, in turn, have nefarious plans of their own for world wide consumer domination. How can you go wrong if you control the REAL Santa?
There's always, however, a spanner in the works, and it soon appears that thousands of Claus-ian clones emerge from the icy pit in Lapland and embark upon a desperate hunt for their leader. These vicious creatures are powerful, ravenous and naked.
Yes, naked!
Thousands of old men with white beards traverse across the tundras of Finland with their saggy buttocks and floppy genitalia exposed to the bitter northern winds. For some, this might even be the ultimate wet dream, but I'll try not to think too hard about who they might be.
All cultures, of course, have their own indigenous versions of everyone's favourite gift-giver and this eventually led to the contemporary rendering of the Santa Claus we're all familiar with. Finland, however, absorbed in considerable wintery darkness for much of the year, insanely overflowing with rampant alcoholism and being the birthplace of the brilliant Kaurismäki filmmaking brothers, is one delightfully twisted country. It's no surprise, then, that the Finns' version of jolly old Saint Nick is utterly malevolent. As presented in this bizarre and supremely entertaining movie, Santa is one demonic mo-fo!!!
Directed with panache by the young Finnish director Jalmari Helander (and based on his truly insane short films), Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale is one unique treat. It's a Christmas movie with scares, carnage and loads of laughs. Helander renders spectacular images in scene after scene and his filmmaking vocabulary is sophisticated as all get-out. In fact, some of his shots out-Spielberg Spielberg, and unlike the woeful, tin-eyed J.J. Abrams (he of the loathsome Super-8, the Star Trek reboots, the worst Mission Impossible of all time and now, God forbid, Star Wars), I'd put money on Helander eventually becoming the true heir apparent to the Steven Spielberg torch. Helander's imaginative mise-en-scène is especially brilliant as he stretches a modest budget (using stunning Norwegian locations) and renders a movie with all the glorious production value of a bonafide studio blockbuster. The difference here, is that it's not stupid, but blessed with intelligence and imagination.
While the movie is not suitable for most young children (except mine), it actually makes for superb family viewing if the kiddies are not whining sissy-pants. Anyone expecting a traditional splatter-fest will also be disappointed, but I suspect even they will find merit in the movie. Most of all, Moms, Dads and their brave progeny can all delight in this dazzling Christmas thriller filled with plenty of jolts, laughs, adventure and yes, even a sentimental streak that rivals that of the master of all things darkly wholesome, Steven Spielberg.
You have hereby been warned:
You better watch out,
you better not cry,
you better not pout,
I'm telling you why,
Santa Claus is coming to town,
with razor-sharp big gnarly teeth,
a taste for human flesh,
he knows if you've been bad or good,
and he likes to eat kids fresh.
Hey!
Or in the words of Tiny Tim: "God Bless us, everyone."
THE FILM CORNER RATING: ***½ 3 and-a-half stars
Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale is currently available in a superb Bluray and DVD from the Oscilloscope Pictures (and distributed in Canada via the visionary company VSC). I normally have little use for extra features, but this release is one of the few exceptions. It includes Helander's brilliant shorts and some truly informative and entertaining making-of docs. This is truly worth owning and cherishing - again and again!
Nhãn:
***½,
2010,
Blu-Ray,
Christmas Movies,
DVD,
Fantasy,
Finland,
Greg Klymkiw,
Horror,
Jalmari Helander,
Norway,
Video Service Corp,
Video Services Corp.,
VSC
Thứ Sáu, 2 tháng 5, 2014
LOVE AND ENGINEERING - Review By Greg Klymkiw - HOT DOCS 2014 - If Science be the food of love, play on.
Love and Engineering (2014) ***1/2
Dir. Tonislav Hristov
Writ.Prod. Kaarle Aho
Review By Greg Klymkiw
Todor, Tuomas, Joost and Andon are four men at the top of their game. They have devoted virtually every waking hour over many years to be the best that they can be. Their hard work, strength and dedication has placed each one of them on the path to success in their field.
They are, what is commonly and often appropriately referred to as, Masters of the Universe. Alas, it's their own universe they're the masters of. Their single, solitary worlds of study and research will pay off for them professionally and in turn, pay off for the wider world in terms of what strengths and innovation they will bring to it.
They lack nothing.
Save for love.
They are all brilliant young engineers, computer geeks of the highest order, but their passions have all been singularly plugged into their natural abilities, talents and gifts to the science of engineering and, by extension, the wider world. On one hand, they've sacrificed their ability to find love and in so doing, have never quite developed the personalities and basic social skills to relate to the world outside the parameters of their deep and true calling.
How are these guys even going to get a date, let alone find love and a partnership of passion for life?
Their mentor is the brilliant Bulgarian 3-D engineer Atanas and he believes he can help. He is a Geek-o Supreme-o or, if you will, Super Geek. If one didn't know better, one might assume him to be a complete and total schlub. Hell, the man even suffers from a speech disorder. But guess what? He's married, with a family and his wife's a babe. He's also someone who spent years of shoving his face into a computer, but in Mark Twain parlance, all that "book larnin'" paid off handsomely because now, Atanas is convinced that love is a matter of science, of simple mathematics and damned if he doesn't have some "notions" on how to get his geek peeps hooked up.
Love and Engineering is a very sweet, strange and lovely movie that weaves its way expertly through the experiment Atanas places his love-starved charges through so that they too will learn the skills necessary to make love in their lives a reality. Director Tonislav Hristov and writer-producer Kaarle Aho have more than a few balls to juggle in this narrative. They present Atanas' theories, explain the science behind said theories, take us through several experiments in the lab with the four young men, then move all four into the "field" (as it were) to apply several basic scientific and mathematical principals in their quest for love. The cherry on the sundae is when we get to follow each of the lads on actual dates. At times these sequences have us squirming with embarrassment while at other points, we experience a buoyancy that borders on the magical.
Atanas himself, proves to be a most formidable mentor to these lads and the manner in which he throws himself into the passionate pursuit of love seems to border on obsessive fervour. In spite of this ardent pursuit, one wonders what might have occurred if Atanas had instead applied the fanciful rather than the practical. After all, let us never forget the famed German scientist who became enamoured with the teachings of Cornelius Agrippa, not realizing that:
That the aforementioned words came from a fictional "famed German scientist" by the name of Dr. Victor Frankenstein, one might perhaps think it folly to follow in the particular footsteps which spewed from the imagination of Mary Shelley. However, I couldn't help but think that a bit of the chimerical might have been a worthwhile pursuit, especially since there's already something vaguely Frankenstein-like in the way Atanas pursues his theories. Sometimes, blending the poetic with the scientific can indeed be the very thing that's needed when applying the practical to the emotional.
The tale told in Love and Engineering is replete with varying degrees of failure and success amongst Atanas' guinea pigs, but it's never less than fascinating as we do indeed see science applied to emotion. But science or no science, logic or no logic, sometimes the basic core of human emotion is beyond the reach of science, for as the Bard of Avon proclaimed in "A Midsummer Night's Dream" over 400 years ago:
And so shall it be for the protagonists' journey in Love and Engineering. We, the audience, are the biggest winners of all. We can be the flies on the wall and see for ourselves what love is and that science doesn't always have answers to the very basic reality of love, nor can it ever describe definitively what love is. In the words of the Bard:
Our scientist might have done well to apply a bit of Shakespeare to his equations, though given that the aforementioned quotation comes from "Romeo and Juliet", maybe it wouldn't have been the best idea after all, since I'm sure we're quite familiar with where love leads the doomed lovers of that immortal tale of mad, passionate and ultimately tragic love.
In theory, the notion of these Romeos of the Engineering world being cut out "in little stars" in order to "make the face of heaven so fine" seems rather quaint, but something tells me, they themselves might mind being sacrificed so that "all the world will be in love with night, And pay no worship to the garish sun."
Love and Engineering is playing at Hot Docs 2014. Visit the festival website for ticket, playmate and venue info HERE.
Dir. Tonislav Hristov
Writ.Prod. Kaarle Aho
Review By Greg Klymkiw
Todor, Tuomas, Joost and Andon are four men at the top of their game. They have devoted virtually every waking hour over many years to be the best that they can be. Their hard work, strength and dedication has placed each one of them on the path to success in their field.
They are, what is commonly and often appropriately referred to as, Masters of the Universe. Alas, it's their own universe they're the masters of. Their single, solitary worlds of study and research will pay off for them professionally and in turn, pay off for the wider world in terms of what strengths and innovation they will bring to it.
They lack nothing.
Save for love.
They are all brilliant young engineers, computer geeks of the highest order, but their passions have all been singularly plugged into their natural abilities, talents and gifts to the science of engineering and, by extension, the wider world. On one hand, they've sacrificed their ability to find love and in so doing, have never quite developed the personalities and basic social skills to relate to the world outside the parameters of their deep and true calling.
How are these guys even going to get a date, let alone find love and a partnership of passion for life?
Their mentor is the brilliant Bulgarian 3-D engineer Atanas and he believes he can help. He is a Geek-o Supreme-o or, if you will, Super Geek. If one didn't know better, one might assume him to be a complete and total schlub. Hell, the man even suffers from a speech disorder. But guess what? He's married, with a family and his wife's a babe. He's also someone who spent years of shoving his face into a computer, but in Mark Twain parlance, all that "book larnin'" paid off handsomely because now, Atanas is convinced that love is a matter of science, of simple mathematics and damned if he doesn't have some "notions" on how to get his geek peeps hooked up.
Love and Engineering is a very sweet, strange and lovely movie that weaves its way expertly through the experiment Atanas places his love-starved charges through so that they too will learn the skills necessary to make love in their lives a reality. Director Tonislav Hristov and writer-producer Kaarle Aho have more than a few balls to juggle in this narrative. They present Atanas' theories, explain the science behind said theories, take us through several experiments in the lab with the four young men, then move all four into the "field" (as it were) to apply several basic scientific and mathematical principals in their quest for love. The cherry on the sundae is when we get to follow each of the lads on actual dates. At times these sequences have us squirming with embarrassment while at other points, we experience a buoyancy that borders on the magical.
Atanas himself, proves to be a most formidable mentor to these lads and the manner in which he throws himself into the passionate pursuit of love seems to border on obsessive fervour. In spite of this ardent pursuit, one wonders what might have occurred if Atanas had instead applied the fanciful rather than the practical. After all, let us never forget the famed German scientist who became enamoured with the teachings of Cornelius Agrippa, not realizing that:
". . . the principles of Agrippa had been entirely exploded and that a modern system of science had been introduced which possessed much greater powers than the ancient, because the powers of the latter were chimerical, while those of the former were real and practical."
That the aforementioned words came from a fictional "famed German scientist" by the name of Dr. Victor Frankenstein, one might perhaps think it folly to follow in the particular footsteps which spewed from the imagination of Mary Shelley. However, I couldn't help but think that a bit of the chimerical might have been a worthwhile pursuit, especially since there's already something vaguely Frankenstein-like in the way Atanas pursues his theories. Sometimes, blending the poetic with the scientific can indeed be the very thing that's needed when applying the practical to the emotional.
The tale told in Love and Engineering is replete with varying degrees of failure and success amongst Atanas' guinea pigs, but it's never less than fascinating as we do indeed see science applied to emotion. But science or no science, logic or no logic, sometimes the basic core of human emotion is beyond the reach of science, for as the Bard of Avon proclaimed in "A Midsummer Night's Dream" over 400 years ago:
"The course of true love never did run smooth."
And so shall it be for the protagonists' journey in Love and Engineering. We, the audience, are the biggest winners of all. We can be the flies on the wall and see for ourselves what love is and that science doesn't always have answers to the very basic reality of love, nor can it ever describe definitively what love is. In the words of the Bard:
"What is it? A madness most discreet,
A choking gall and a preserving sweet."
Our scientist might have done well to apply a bit of Shakespeare to his equations, though given that the aforementioned quotation comes from "Romeo and Juliet", maybe it wouldn't have been the best idea after all, since I'm sure we're quite familiar with where love leads the doomed lovers of that immortal tale of mad, passionate and ultimately tragic love.
In theory, the notion of these Romeos of the Engineering world being cut out "in little stars" in order to "make the face of heaven so fine" seems rather quaint, but something tells me, they themselves might mind being sacrificed so that "all the world will be in love with night, And pay no worship to the garish sun."
Love and Engineering is playing at Hot Docs 2014. Visit the festival website for ticket, playmate and venue info HERE.
Thứ Tư, 23 tháng 4, 2014
OLGA, TO MY FRIENDS - Review By Greg Klymkiw - HOT DOCS 2014 - Visually sumptuous contemplations.
Olga - To My Friends (2013) Dir. Paul Anders-Simma ***
Review By Greg Klymkiw
Life in Lapland's Russian district has its own special pace. Oft-ascribed stereotypes like "slow as molasses" might spring to mind when considering its day-in-day-out solitude, but the reality is something else altogether. Paul-Anders Simma's gorgeously photographed Olga - To My Friends captures the beauty of silence through the eyes and words of its title protagonist.
Dumped in an orphanage and raised there for most of her childhood and early adolescence, Olga was eventually removed by her Mother when it became convenient for her to "provide" for the family. For some time, Olga has worked in the northernmost reaches of the continent and the film focuses upon her time working with trappers, hunters and herdsman in an isolated outpost. Her primary duties include keeping the food supplies secure and general upkeep. These duties don't necessarily take an eternity, so it seems Olga has plenty of time on her hands.
This is a good deal for both Olga and the audience. It allows her a lot of time to contemplate the north and her life in it (before and beyond). Furthermore, the film allows us to share in these few glimpses into both her inner life and the world that surrounds it. This is a special opportunity because Olga is very sweet, down-to-earth. Her stocky solid frame puts her in good stead to handle the more arduous tasks and her eyes, so sparkling and alive, betray a soul at peace with the world and herself.
We get a few sad glimpses into her past life (one heartbreaking tale from the orphanage moves us to tears), but she doesn't dwell on unhappiness for too long, nor does she ever display the kind of self-pity someone in her position might. She loves the north, she loves nature and she even seems to love the revolving door of solitary men passing through on their way to somewhere, anywhere - just so long as they're not in one place too long - and we're allowed to love all this too.
Simma's picture is barely an hour long. Its running time feels perfectly appropriate as we never feel like it has overstayed its welcome. If anything, the entire experience is so uplifting and engaging, it seems like maybe we don't get as much time as we'd like.
This is another good thing. The best artists always understand the value of leaving an audience wanting more.
Olga - To My Friends plays Toronto's Hot Docs 2014. For further information, contact the festival website HERE.
Thứ Năm, 12 tháng 12, 2013
THE PUNK SYNDROME - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Finally Opens Toronto: SEE IT THEATRICALLY OR DIE, MO-FO!!!
Two fresh viewings of this phenomenal rock-doc have prompted me to reassess my star rating and boost it from **** to *****. The film is not only superbly crafted, but its subjects are hardcore punks who embrace the anger-charged musical form to create the most phenomenal insight into what it means to be mentally disabled and forced to live in a world of fluorescent lighting, rigid control, shitty food and seemingly random rules as prescribed within the cold, institutional world of their homes for life. This opens theatrically in Toronto at the Magic Lantern Carlton Cinemas via Kinosmith and it MUST be seen theatrically. Hopefully more cities will follow before it's released (hopefully) to Blu-Ray.
The Punk Syndrome (2012) *****
dir. Jukka Kärkkäinen & J-P Passi
Starring: Pertti Kurikka, Kari Aalto, Sami Helle, Toni Välitalo
Review By Greg Klymkiw
"Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day" is, without question, one of the greatest punk bands of all time. They are the unforgettable subjects of The Punk Syndrome, a breathtaking feature documentary that declares: "I demand your immediate attention or you die, motherfucker!" I'm somewhat ashamed to admit I had never heard of the band before. Now, I'll never forget them! Neither will you. This quartet of hard-core, kick-ass, take-no-fucking-prisoners sons of bitches pull no musical punches. They slam you in the face with repeated roundhouses - turning your flesh into pulpy, coarsely-ground hamburger meat. In true punk spirit, they crap on hypocrisy, celebrate a shackle-free life and dare your pulse not to pound with maniacal abandon.
The band is, of course, from Finland. This is the great land of the brown bear, the Capercaillie grouse and the nearly-extinct, but damned-if-they'll-go-down-without-a-fight Saimaa Ringed Seal - a country with one of the largest land masses and smallest populations in Europe that spawned the great glam group Hanoi Rocks, the brilliant hockey player Veli-Pekka Ketola and one of the world's greatest filmmakers, Aki Kaurismäki.
And now, Finland can boast of generating one the world's great punk bands, "Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day". With Pertti Kurikka's grinding lead guitar, Kari Aalto's powerhouse vocals, Sami Helle's muscular bass and Toni Välitalo on drums (a veritable punk rock Gene Krupa), this tight unit commands audiences with a power that borders on mesmerism.
Their songs - many of them ripped straight from Kurikka's diaries - take aim at government corruption, mindless bureaucracy and pedicures. Yes, pedicures!
Early in the film, Pertti Kurikka explains:
Writing a diary is important to me. I can release my anger. It is especially helpful to have a bad day. I’ll write in my diary that Pertti is a shithead, that Pertti is an asshole and that Pertti is a faggot and a shit-goddamn-asshole. Pertti will be stabbed. Pertti will be punched in the face. Pertti will be strangled to death.Not every song the band sings spews venom, though. Giving a concert in a public square, the jaws of old ladies hit the ground, while young party animals hoist their fists in the air as the band extols the considerable virtues of mundane, but pleasant activities with the following lyrics:
It was a SundayThree kick-ass chords and four glorious lines and we're hooked.
I went to church
I had coffee
I took a dump
The movie follows the band from practising to recording, from jamming to performing, relationships with family, friends, fans and women. There are the usual creative differences between the band - some serious, and others, a bit more tongue in cheek. At one point, Kari complains to Kurikka, "When you write riffs for songs, don’t write such difficult ones. Write easy ones."
One of the most powerful sequences in the film, one that enshrines the picture as one of the truly great rock documentaries, is when the band plays a gig at a club in Tampere. The performance is mind-blowing and the audience is electric. The band sings:
Decision-Makers lock people up
In closed rooms
But we don’t wanna be in those rooms
Nobody looks after us
Nobody comes to visit us
What’s going to happen
To us orphans in those rooms?
Decision-makers cheat
Cheaters make decisions
They don’t give a shit
About us disabled
Decision-makers cheat
Cheaters make decisions
They don’t give a shit
About us disabled
In the dressing room after a truly intense performance, the band is triumphant. A beaming Kurikka declares, "This is as good as it gets".
And WHAMMO!
A breathtaking cut to a shot worthy of Ulrich Seidl - one that captures a terrible beauty of the character-bereft building the band lives in, a blue sky and a magic hour sun.
And yes, this is a band that writes and performs songs from the pits of their respective guts, from experience - their unique experience in the world as mentally disabled men.
Brave, passionate and talented men.
And yes, mentally disabled.
And they are so cool.
How cool?
They record their first single on vinyl.
That's how cool!
Just like this movie!
"The Punk Syndrome" opens theatrically December 13, 2013 via Kinosmith at the Magic Lantern Carlton Cinemas. If there is any justice in the world, it will play theatrically in many more Canadian cities before it is released to Blu-Ray. It's a movie that demands an audience!
Nhãn:
*****,
2012,
Carlton Cinema,
Concert,
Documentary,
Finland,
Greg Klymkiw,
Hot Docs,
Hot Docs 2012,
J-P Passi,
Jukka Kärkkäinen,
Kinosmith,
MLT Carlton Cinema,
Norway,
Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day,
Punk Rock,
Sweden
Thứ Tư, 1 tháng 5, 2013
"THE GHOSTS IN OUR MACHINE" + "CHIMERAS" + "FELIX AUSTRIA!" - Reviews By Greg Klymkiw - Klymkiw's Bases-are-loaded HOT DOCS 2013 HOT PICKS
The Ghosts in Our Machine (2013) ****
Dir. Liz Marshall
Review By Greg Klymkiw
Okay, so something funny happened on the way to my home in the country. My wife and child, both being inveterate tree-huggers, got the craziest idea. What they wanted to do sounded like one hell of a lot of work. They promised I would not have to avail my services upon any aspect of their venture. Well, good intentions and all that, but now I find I'm not only a gentleman farmer, but involved in the rescue of animals living in horrid conditions and headed for inevitable slaughter. Now, it's not that I'm some kind of anti-environmental redneck or something, but what I love about living in the country is sitting in my dark office, smoking cigarettes, watching movies and writing. I occasionally step over to the window, part the curtains briefly and look outside to acknowledge - Ah yes, nature! I then happily return to my prodigious activities.
You see, prior to becoming a gentleman farmer, I liked the IDEA of nature, the IDEA of being in deep bush, the IDEA of living off-grid on solar energy. Well, more than the ideas, really, since I did enjoy all of the above in practice, but in my own way.
Now, I have animals. Shitloads of them that my wife, daughter and eventually I rescued from misery with the assistance of a super-cool Amish dude.
Needless to say, when watching Liz Marshall's film, I was completely blown away. You see, having experienced the joy of coming to know a variety of animals, I eventually realized that all of God's creatures I mistook for being little more than blobs of meat with nothing resembling character, spirit or intelligence was just downright stupid. I've always had dogs and THEY certainly have character, spirit and intelligence - so why NOT chickens? Or donkeys? Or hell, even bees.
Marshall's film, you see, focuses upon someone I'd have to classify as a saint. Photographer Jo-Anne McArthur is not only an astounding artist of the highest order, but by restricting her activities to mostly photographing animals in the most horrendous captivity, she's risked both her life and mental health. Given my recently-acquired predilection for animal rights, I watched Marshall's film three times. Yes, on a first viewing I was far too emotionally wound up to keep my cap of critical detachment on, but now I'm perfectly convinced of the film's importance in terms of both subject AND cinema. It's a finely wrought piece of work that takes huge risks on so many levels in order to present a stunningly etched portrait of the heroic McArthur and HER subjects - all those animals being tortured to fill the bellies of ignoramuses and line the pockets of corporate criminals. (Not that I'm planning to go Vegan anytime soon, but I do believe that ANYONE who consumes any animal product derived from cruel meat factories as opposed to natural free-range is no better than a torturer and murderer.)
Not kidding about that, either.
What you see in this film will shock you. There is no denying what both Marshall and McArthur see and capture with their respective cameras. Creatures with individual souls and personalities are being hunted, incarcerated in conditions akin to concentration camps and/or bred in captivity and tortured until they are slaughtered. Equally frustrating are the corporate boneheads in a variety of publishing industries devoted to generating purported journalism - the difficulty with which McArthur must suffer to get her work published and to bring attention to these atrocities gets me so magma-headed I need to almost be physically restrained from going "postal".
You must see this movie.
If you're a coward, loser and/or asshole and don't want to see the truth, then fuck you!
Chimeras (2013) ***
Dir. Mika Mattila
Review By Greg Klymkiw
Two artists. One rich and famous. The other - well, not so much. Both are on opposite ends of the art world spectrum. One does commercial art, the other - well, not so much. Is our tale situated then, in the two different NYC worlds of Madison Avenue and the Village respectively? Nope. We're talking China - the nation poised to be the ultimate superpower. And artists, no matter who they are grapple with common issues. They both want to pursue a purely Asian style, which is all well and good until one has to grapple with the intricacies of Communism vs. traditional Eastern philosophy and religion vs. the strange contemporary cusp period China is in which blends the tenets of a free market with Totalitarianism. Add to this heady brew the increasing and almost overwhelming influence of North American culture and artists young and old, rich and poor, seasoned and neophyte - who are grappling with a conundrum of overwhelming proportions. Director Mika Mattila steadies his gaze upon these two poles of experience through two artists and delivers are nicely made exploratory rumination upon these complex ideas. The picture is a tiny bit precious in its approach, but patience will yield rewards for discriminating viewers.
Felix Austria (2013) **1/2
Dir. Christine Beebe
Review By Greg Klymkiw
The dandy, well-dressed fellow is Felix Pfeifle from Modesto, California and director Christine Beebe offers up this scattershot, though often mind-blowingly imaginative documentary film which, being the adventures of a young man whose principal interests are Viennese high culture, ultra-Austro-Hungarian-aristocracy and Archduke Otto von Habsburg, makes for a mostly intriguing mix of personal journey, obsession and history. Felix has dreams about his obsessions and this is where the film shines. Like some perverse coupling of Guy Maddin and Jan Svankmajer (with dollops of the Brothers Quay), we're treated to the sort of dazzlingly sumptuous cinema magic one would want from a film that focuses upon the aforementioned individual. Less interesting to me is Felix's real life which keeps getting in the way of the glorious dream sequences, his Austro-monarchical fetishes and finally, the astonishing moments where we lays eyes upon the last living descendant of the empire Felix so desperately adores. There is also the interesting exploration of a mysterious, huge box that arrives from the estate of one Herbert Hinckle (which, for some reason forces me to imagine some ancient, wizened version of Travis Bickle in his dotage). The package contains a wealth of materials to keep Felix in a state of perpetual orgasm for the rest of his life and it is elements such as these which make the film ultimately a worthwhile experience.
"THE GHOSTS IN OUR MACHINE", "CHIMERAS" and "FELIX AUSTRIA!" are all playing at the Hot Docs 2013 Filom Festival. For tickets and showtimes visit the Hot Docs website HERE.
Nhãn:
2013,
Animal Rights,
Art,
Artists,
Austrian Royalty,
Christine Beebe,
Denmark,
Documentary,
Finland,
Greg Klymkiw,
Hot Docs 2013,
Jo-Anne McArthur,
Liz Marshall,
Mika Mattila. Canada,
UK,
USA
Thứ Sáu, 26 tháng 4, 2013
ALCAN HIGHWAY - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Klymkiw HOT DOCS 2013 HOT PICK
Alcan Highway (2013) ***1/2
Dir. Aleksi Salmenperä
Review By Greg Klymkiw
Finland used to be the suicide capitol of the world, but times have changed. It now ranks as the 19th highest suicide rate in the world out of 100 or so countries. This should be cause for celebration.
Not for Hese.
He's in his forties and feels like a stranger in his own land. His dream is to leave his country behind and embark on a gruelling odyssey of self exploration. It's not enough just to leave, though. As he is Finnish - and I base this assumption solely on the cinema of the Kaurismäki Brothers - he must throw himself into an almost Herculean (some might say Sisyphean) endurance test.
God Bless Finland.
So, what does any bearded, healthy (of mind as well as body) forty-something single male do? Well, what anyone of us would do - he journeys to Alaska, buys a broken down late 40s model truck, affixes a mobile home to it, drives through harsh, but spectacular wilderness and aims his sights on Vancouver Island where he will park his truck and live forever.
Sure. Why not? Life is short, isn't it.
Alcan Highway is a strangely funny and compelling film and, in its own way, it's infused with a similar Buster Keaton-like deadpan quality that the 80s Kaurismäki films so memorably pioneered. It's not enough, for example, to detail the journey - fraught as it is with constant mechanical breakdowns - but director Aleksi Salmenperä captures the actual restoration process in painstaking detail.
At times, one wishes to put a gun to the movie's head and say, "Come on, buddy, move your ass."
Curiously, this is exactly what Hese's collaborators feel like doing. It takes 36 of the 86 minutes of the film's running time to get Hese on the open road. At times this is mildly infuriating, but it's also a canny way to place us in Hese's groove. He's meticulously obsessed with every detail and we're treated to this stubborn single-mindedness with the cinematic equivalent to what actually appears to have occurred.
Hese eventually parts company with the two men who have been helping him realize the inaugural portion of his dream and finally, he's on his own. Along the way and not surprisingly once he hits Canada, there are plenty of friendly, polite people who come to his rescue and/or offer support. When things seem at their bleakest, out pops a friendly Canadian with a helping hand.
The entire journey is so perverse in its single-minded trajectory that it successfully mirrors Hese's character traits - at times, perhaps, to a fault - but it's finally never less than compelling as we're sucked into his dream and root for him all the way. In fact, Kaurismäkiian traits aside, the movie also feels a bit imbued with the sort of existential male angst that drove the collective engines of so many American films of the 70s.
All in all, Alcan Highway (and by extension, Hese himself) is like some crazed Jack Kerouac-like wet dream that presides over Leningrad Cowboys Go American meets Two Lane Blacktop meets Taxi Driver by way of Paul Mazursky.
This is not a bad combination at all.
"Alcan Highway" is playing at the Hot Docs 2013 Film Festival. For showtimes and tickets, visit the Hot Docs website HERE.
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