BROOKLYN - Review By Greg Klymkiw *****TIFF 2015 MUST-NOT-SEE*****

As you can see, impish colleen immigrants
do not require hands to provide good service
in the better department stores of Brooklyn.

Brooklyn (2015)
Dir. John Crowley
Scr. Nick Hornby
Starring: Saoirse Ronan, Emory Cohen,
Domhnall Gleeson, Jim Broadbent, Julie Walters, Jessie Paré

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Save for the pleasing cast of babes (Saoirse Ronan, Jessie Paré) and hunks (Emory Cohen, Domhnall Gleeson) providing ample scenery (in addition to the general period production design) and a couple of old Brit stalwarts (Jim Broadbent, Julie Walters) ham-boning to the hilt, about the best I can say about Brooklyn is that my Mother (God rest her soul) would have enjoyed it thoroughly. She was, however, uh, like, old.

The aforementioned are what the film has going for it. I was less inclined to favour the alternately sad and jaunty Irish folk music elements of the syrupy score, the dull, style-bereft miniseries camera-jockey direction and a screenplay playing out like a muted soap opera with about as much conflict as having to choose twixt Aunt Jemima pancakes and Rice Crispies at breakfast time.

Gorgeous Saoirse Ronan, with the help of her big sister and Jim Broadbent's Father Flanagan-like priest, leaves behind the lack of opportunities in Ireland and hits the big boat for the wide-open shores of America. The good Father sets her up in a lovely boarding house for young ladies run by an endlessly quipping Julie Walters, then he gets her a good job in a nice department store where she's mentored by the STUNNINGLY gorgeous Jessica Paré and, Faith and Begorrah, our jovial, benevolent man of the cloth pays for her tuition at business college.

Sounds like being a gorgeous Irish immigrant of the female persuasion is a good deal. Oh sure, you have to go to endless dances to land a prospective husband and quite often, you get homesick for Ireland, but truth be told, it's a cakewalk. Hell, Saoirse even falls in love with a mouth-wateringly handsome Italian stud-muffin (Emory Cohen) in Brooklyn and upon visiting her old Irish home, she meets a yummy prim and proper rich boy (Domhnall Gleeson).

And here you have it, ladies and gents, the only conflict in the whole movie.

Must be nice.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: ** 2-Stars

Brooklyn is a TIFF 2015 Special Presentation. For dates, times and tix, visit the TIFF website HERE.

BANG BANG BABY, THE AMINA PROFILE, VENDETTA - Reviews By Greg Klymkiw - Canucks make cool movies y'all can see this week and I be tellin' you why y'all should see them

3 Canucks Make Cool Movies 2 C now!

BANG BANG BABY

Bang Bang Baby
Dir. Jeffrey St. Jules
Starring: Jane Levy, Justin Chatwin, Peter Stormare, David Reale

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Bang Bang Baby is easily one of the strangest movie musical romantic comedies ever made. Of course, it's Canadian. No surprise here, given that le pays de castor, l'orignal et le sirop d'érable, has already generated filmmakers like John Paizs, Guy Maddin and David Cronenberg.

Set in some perversely accurate 50s-60s studio musical version of rural Canada (basically, anywhere above the 49th that isn't Toronto), this is one lively, imaginatively-directed bonbon of a picture, if you, that is, think of yummy candies as multi-coloured Haribo gummies meeting Monty Python's "Whizzo Quality Assortment" featuring delectable sweet-meat comestibles described by company owner and everyone's favourite sweetie purveyor Mr. Milton (looking not surprisingly like Terry Jones) as "Spring Surprise", in which steel bolts spring out from the chocky to "plunge straight through both cheeks" or "Crunchy Frog, the finest baby frogs, dew picked and flown from Iraq, cleansed in finest quality spring water, lightly killed, and then sealed in a succulent Swiss quintuple smooth treble cream milk chocolate envelope" and, lest we forget the chocky featuring "fresh Cornish Ram's bladder" that's been "emptied, steamed, flavoured with sesame seeds whipped into a fondue and garnished with lark's vomit.

Yes, the bonbon is that tasty.

Indeed Bang Bang Baby, in the parlance of "high concept" (Canuck-style, 'natch), is a kind of cross twixt Mario Lanza-Elvis Preseley-Gidget-Tammy-with-dashes-of-David Byrne's True Stories with a few generous dollops of Orgy of the Blood Parasites (an early title of Cronenberg's Shivers).

Lonely Arms, a magical, mythical town in a Canada we no longer know (but desperately want to) is the sleepy-time Canuck home of high-school senior and car mechanic Steffy (the drop-dead gorgeous Canuckian Kitten-with-a-whip, Jane Levy), who lives with her bitter, alcoholic former musician Dad (Peter Stormare, the man who shoved Steve Buscemi into a wood chipper in Fargo).

Steffy has the voice of an angel (as does actress Levy) and her dream is to enter an American "Ingenue of the Year" Contest. When she's selected as a finalist, Dad fears her virtue will be at stake and he unfairly (but well-meaningly) scuttles her shot at stardom. Our gal resigns herself to a life of provincial Canadian mediocrity, pumping gas for her tender-loving-lying-in-puddles-of-his-own-vomit Dad, grudgingly heading off to a school dance and drunkenly going against her otherwise good judgement and eventually accompanying a creepy rich boy (David Reale, proving again why he's one of Canada's best and funniest character actors) for a late-night drive to his family's forbidding factory on the outskirts of town. A mysterious purple-fogged chemical leak leaves poor Steffy alone on a dark country road.

Out of the mist, appears, the Elvis-like American superstar Bobby Shore (Justin Chatwin) whose car has broken down after missing a turn to Omaha and ending up in Canada. (Our American neighbours are not always too bright.) Not only is she the lad's biggest fan, but she can fix his car.

Once she starts belting out her show-stopping tunes, it doesn't take Bobby too long to realize that she's quite the catch. Crooning and dancing against a plethora of gorgeously fake old-movie-studio-style backdrops, our made-for-each-other couple look like they're going to find happiness and live happily ever after.

However, I hope you haven't forgotten the aforementioned chemical leak from the factory. If you think this movie is weird, I can assure you, in the words of Al Jolson, "You ain't seen nothing yet!"

Without spoiling the rest of the picture for you, I will only say this: icky parasites begin to grown within the bodies of the citizenry of Lonely Arms.

And they are mutating.

Oops, mutants on the way.

Bang Bang Baby won last year's Best Canadian First Feature Film Award at the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF 2014). Clearly the Awards Jury were swept away by director St. Jules's cornucopia of imagination. And yes, said mad vision runs gloriously rampant through the picture.

Still, its period and post-modern details only partially work. Many of the film's oddball touches are stunning, but an equal number of them feel forced and even occasionally anachronistic in many of the wrong ways. The usually reliable Stormare feels like he's sleepwalking through his role (looking aimlessly for the punch-clock and pay cheque) and though Chatwin makes for a decent romantic lead, I was a bit thrown off by his look, especially the Elsa Lanchester Bride of Frankenstein-like hairdo.

The film's inherent silliness is always a treat, though, and wisely, St. Jules never plunges into the kind of over-the-top that might have been swathed in globs of horrendous whimsy. Besides, leading lady Levy delivers a knock 'em dead performance and the genuinely great song-score has the kind of hum-ability to annoy you in all the right ways - as in, you can't get the bloody tunes out of your noggin, especially the title number.

Oh, and there are mutants. As a Canadian, I accept this.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: ***½ 3-and-a-half-stars

Bang Bang Baby is a Search Engine Films release that plays from August 21 at Toronto's Varsity, Vancouver's Fifth Avenue and Montreal's Forum, with expanded release in other Canadian cities to follow.

*NOTE* In an earlier version of this article, I reported how shocked I was that Bang Bang Baby won the Best Canadian Feature Film prize over Albert Shin's In Her Place. This was a huge error as BBB was the recipient of the Best First Feature Film Prize, which makes total sense. (Shin's film is not a first feature.) I had successfully managed to repress all knowledge of the ever-so-slight Felix and Meira which did win the overall best feature prize. Pardon the brain fart, but I do tend to shuttle some films deep into a dark closet - not because they're bad, but because they're so egregiously unmemorable.

THE AMINA PROFILE

The Amina Profile (2015)
Dir. Sophie Deraspe

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Set against the turbulent backdrop of war-and-revolution in contemporary Syria we meet Sandra Bagaria, one hot French-Canadian babe in Montreal and Amina Arraf, one hot Syrian-American babe in Damascus. They meet online. They're young. They're in love. They're lesbians. Okay. That's it. Go see the movie.

READ THE FULL REVIEW of The Amina Profile from Hot Docs 2015 HERE

THE FILM CORNER RATING: **** Four Stars

The Amina Profile is a Les Films du 3 mars presentation opening theatrically August 21, 2015 at the Bloor Hot Docs Cinema. For dates, times and fix, visit the cinema's website HERE

VENDETTA

Vendetta (2015)
Dir. Jen and Sylvia Soska
Scr. Justin Shady
Starring: Dean Cain, Paul "The Big Show" Wight, Michael Eklund, Kyra Zagorsky

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Let's get to the meat of the matter in this kick-ass prison picture by everyone's favourite Beautiful and Talented Hungarian-Canadian twins in Beautiful British Columbia - the action and violence. The Soska Sisters (American Mary) do not disappoint in this regard. Their direction goes far beyond just covering the thwacks, whacks, kicks, testicle-twisting and gore in a perfunctory manner, nor do they resort to the usual wham-bam with no sense of spatiality. I was delighted that they placed a fair degree of faith in actors who could clearly fight, some superb stunt choreography/coordination and a few occasional frissons like the makeshift "brass" knuckles Danvers creates and uses with sweet abandon.

As a side note, it is incumbent of me to point out that the one prison movie cliche sadly missing from Vendetta are a few instances of forcible sodomy and blow jobs. Most disappointing. What gives? Even a dull, inexplicably beloved piece of crap like The Shawshank Redemption had a decent anal rape scene.

But, I digress.

READ THE FULL REVIEW of Vendetta HERE

THE FILM CORNER RATING: ***½

Vendetta is now available on BLU-RAY via Lions Gate.

THE LEOPARD - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Magnificent, Heart-Achingly Romantic Visconti Epic @ TIFF Bell Lightbox Summer in Italy series & a gorgeous Criterion Collection BluRay

The Leopard (1963)
Dir. Luchino Visconti
Starring: Burt Lancaster, Alain Delon, Claudia Cardinale

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Christ Almighty, I love Luchino Visconti! Then again, what's not to love? The guy knocked us on our butts with one of the earliest forays into Italian Neo-realism, 1943's still-provocative Ossessione, his debut feature being the very first film adaptation of James. M. Cain's immortal crime melodrama "The Postman Always Rings Twice". With each subsequent picture, he progressively ladled on the most gorgeous, sumptuous compositions in service to increasingly melodramatic narratives.

Still, he almost never forgot his roots in the tradition that became far more synonymous with Roberto Rossellini and Vittorio De Sica. In spite of his penchant for the melodrama driving his epic of politics, war and romance, The Leopard (and so many subsequent films), neo-realism continued to be pervasive within Visconti's unflagging attention to detail, especially during both the battle scenes and lavish rituals of Sicily's ruling class which take breathtaking command of this stunningly great picture.

Based upon the novel by Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa, Visconti and his raft of screenwriters including himself, Pasquale Festa Campanile, Enrico Medioli, Massimo Franciosa and Suso Cecchi d'Amico, craft the compelling tale of Don Fabrizio Corbera (Burt Lancaster), the powerful, respected and beloved Prince of Salina. Whilst many of his family members, neighbours and the estate's personal Catholic priest all fear the recent uprisings to unify Sicily and Italy, led by the savvy military genius General Garibaldi and his 1000 "redshirts", Don Fabrizio harbours a romantic kinship with the rebels. He even finances them and offers his unconditional blessings to his favourite nephew, the dashing, handsome Tancredi (Alain Delon) to join the "redshirts'" cause.

Don Fabrizio is more than happy to share his beliefs with those who will listen: the uprisings will ultimately mean everything and nothing. Yes, they will further unify Italy, but in fact, the "changes" are necessary to maintain the "status quo". Essentially, nothing will really change (at least in the immediate future) for Italy's aristocracy.

His relationship with Tancredi is especially close. The lad takes the place of the son he's always wanted. His love for Tancredi is such that he pooh-poohs the notion of his own daughter marrying the gorgeous swashbuckler since he's well aware of the fact that such a young man (his estate squandered by Fabrizio's brother) will require a wife of considerable wealth. Fabrizio has dowries to offer, of course, but with seven daughters, none of them will come close to adding up collectively to what he feels Tancredi will need for both himself and to solidify the power of the Corbrera Dynasty. Fabrizio is as politically and financially astute as he is a romantic.

In addition to the astonishing battle sequence involving the fall of Palermo to the "redshirts", Visconti continues to soar as a filmmaker with two key set pieces in the 3-hour-long film. One involves the family's journey to their country palace in Donnafugata and the other, a grand ball involving the presentation, or "coming-out" (if you will) of Tancredi's wife-to-be, the drop-dead gorgeous and mega-wealthy Angelica (Claudia Cardinale).

Though the pace of the film is as stately as the lives led by these Italian aristocrats, there is never a dull moment in the proceedings thanks to Visconti's eye for beauty and his knack for detail. (The astounding cinematography of the great Giuseppe Rotunno and the grand orchestral Nino Rota musical score are no slouches, either.)

From a luscious picnic on the way to Donnafugata, through to the traditional processions and celebrations in the town (if anyone wonders where both Scorsese and Coppola received considerable inspiration and cinematic tutelage, they need look no further) and finally the fascinatingly complex negotiations twixt Fabrizio and the somewhat vulgar landowner seeking "legitimacy" by marrying his daughter off to Tancredi, Visconti dazzles our hearts, minds and eyes with drama and images that are simply unforgettable.

One of the magnificent directorial touches is the subtle, almost heart-aching manner in which Visconti captures Fabrizio's passionate, though unrequited love for the stunning Angelica. Handled with looks and glances, along with Burt Lancaster's soulful performance, we feel the ultimate consummation of his desires within the vicarious thrills he enjoys through that of his dashing nephew. As Fabrizio's love flourishes, Tancredi's virtually explodes, and then during one of cinema's greatest ballroom dance sequences, Visconti allows us to bear witness to one of the most wildly romantic scenes in all of cinema history.

Angelica catches one of Fabrizio's glances and in a stunning moment of cinematic glory, we're witness to a sense of her looking into the handsome, distinguished visage of what she herself will grow old with once she marries Tancredi. She asks Fabrizio for a dance. He agrees, but only if the orchestra plays a waltz.

And then, as if the Heavens have parted to grant them their wish, a waltz strikes up and we feel the gooseflesh and tears rise within us as this grand, old Prince takes the stunning princess-to-be for a spin on the glorious dance floor under the majestic chandeliers of the palace and the admiring eyes of all who surround them.

As the film winds down, as the grand ball comes to a fitting end, Visconti allows us to follow the departing Don Fabrizio Corbera, the Prince of Salina as he slowly walks into the night air, disappearing into the darkness as a new generation takes command of the light.

As The Leopard so beautifully proves, things never really change. The cycles of life and love continue, long after we're gone - not forever, but swallowed by our eternal memories and those which supplant our own and create memories anew.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: ***** 5-Stars

The Leopard is part of TIFF's 2015 Summer in Italy series and also available on a gorgeous Criterion Collection Blu-Ray which includes a new high-definition digital transfer, supervised by director of photography Giuseppe Rotunno and presented in the original Super Technirama aspect ratio of 2.21:1, with uncompressed monaural soundtrack on the Blu-ray edition, the 161-minute American release, with English-language dialogue, including Burt Lancaster’s own voice, an audio commentary by film scholar Peter Cowie, A Dying Breed: The Making of The Leopard, a terrific hour-long documentary featuring interviews with Claudia Cardinale, screenwriter Suso Ceccho D’Amico, Rotunno, filmmaker Sydney Pollack, and many others, video interviews with producer Goffredo Lombardo and professor Millicent Marcus on the history behind The Leopard, original theatrical trailers and newsreels, a stills gallery of rare behind-the-scenes production photos and a lovely booklet featuring a new essay by film historian Michael Wood.

LIZA THE FOX-FAIRY (Liza a Rókatündér) - Review By Greg Klymkiw - NIFF 2015 MUST-SEE Wacko Winner from Hungary gets Canadian Premiere during the legendary Bill Marshall's 2nd Annual Niagara Integrated Film Festival in Southern Ontario Wine Country

Liza The Fox-Fairy aka Liza a Rókatündér (2015)
Dir. Károly Ujj Mészáros
Starring: Mónika Balsai, Szabolcs Fazekas, David Sakurai

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Watching Liza The Fox-Fairy, I felt like I had died and sailed up to Heaven. It's also proof-positive how great publicists genuinely understand the writers they work with. I didn't even bother including this title on my list of films I'd requested to screen in advance of the 2015 Niagara Integrated Film Festival and the gentle words of the veteran flack handling NIFF's press relations, "I think you might want to see this one, too," led me to this terrific motion picture (at first, wearily, in spite of not ever really being led astray by said flack's almost placid urging), which not only appealed to my taste, but did so with the kind of artistry and imagination I continually long for in the movies.

This magnificently mordant fantasy is also a deeply black comedy, an utterly insane musical and perhaps one of the most unexpectedly sweet and melancholy love stories I've seen in quite some time. That it also blends an old-style Eastern European sense of realism, an occasional use of a fluorescent-dappled post-modernist visual palette and that this Budapest-back-dropped ode to ghostly apparitions, murder and Japanese culture oddly joins a splendid cinematic coterie that includes Canada's brilliant Winnipeg-infused, Hungarian-heritaged John (Crime Wave) Paizs and the Colorado=spawned Zellner (Kumiko The Treasure Hunter) Brothers (with dashes of Otto Preminger's Laura), all yielding globs of rich icing on this delicious cake of celluloid dreaming.

Liza (Mónika Balsai) has toiled for twelve long years as a personal slave/caretaker to a morbidly obese old lady in Hungary who once lived with her deceased husband, a consular official, in Japan. She not only teaches Liza Japanese in their endless days, weeks, months and aeons together, but insists her jane-of-all-trades endlessly spin tunes by the old gal's favourite Nippon pop star Tomy Tani (David Sakurai). Frumpy Liza, having never known true love, magically becomes the recipient of numerous visitations by the ghost of Tomy who croons and converses endlessly with her. Some might call him an imaginary friend, but he is, ultimately, an all-too-real a presence in Liza's life.

On Liza's 30th birthday, everything changes. Whilst enjoying a celebratory greasy burger and fries at the grim Hungarian fast food eatery, MEKK BURGER, the old lady dies and in her will, leaves the loyal, dowdy au pair her apartment and a small amount of money. Liza immediately becomes a beacon for male suitors. Alas, one-by-one, the men begin to die "accidentally" in Liza's presence. Though each death is clearly accidental, the Budapest Homicide Department smells something fishy and assigns Detective Zoltán Zászlós (Szabolcs Fazekas) to stakeout her comings and goings.

Zoltán slowly falls for Liza in a big way, even though men are dropping like flies around her. Melancholy Liza, who transforms herself into a Cosmopolitan Magazine babe, feels like she's become the reincarnated Japanese "Fox-Lady" whom, a legend has it, could never know true love as all men who courted her died horrible deaths. As Liza's apartment becomes insanely plastered with crime scene tape body outlines, the jealous ghost of Tomy appears to be the real culprit.

He loves Liza and wants her all to himself.

For eternity.

What's a girl to do?

To find out, head down to St. Catharines and surrounding environs to see Liza The Fox-Fairy at the Niagara Integrated Film Festival. Who knows when you'll have a chance to see this thoroughly delightful picture on a big screen with an audience.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: **** 4 Stars

Liza The Fox-Fairy enjoys its Canadian Premiere at NIFF 2015. For info, dates and tickets, visit the festival's website by clicking HERE.

SPRING - Review By Greg Klymkiw - If "Before Sunrise" w/viscous fluids turns your crank… Limited platform theatrical release and extras-laden Blu-Ray/DVD on June 2/2015

When the moon hits your eye
Like a big pizza pie, that's amore
When the world seems to shine
Like you've had too much wine, that's amore

Spring (2014)
Dir. Justin Benson, Aaron Moorhead
Starring: Lou Taylor Pucci, Nadia Hilker

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Spring begins compellingly enough. Evan (Lou Taylor Pucci) is a young chef in a local California watering hole who has been tending to his mother's palliative home care whilst she slowly dies of cancer. Once she passes, the only child (his Dad pre-deceased Mom) is not only consumed with grief, but loneliness to boot. Armed with a backpack and small inheritance, he hops on the first outbound plane which takes him to Rome. He eventually makes his way to a small burgh within the watchful burble and huffing/puffing of the volcanic Mt. Vesuvius.

Lava, however, is not the only thing roiling in these parts.

Bells will ring ting-a-ling-a-ling
Ting-a-ling-a-ling and you'll sing, "Vita bella"
Hearts will play tippy-tippy-tay
Tippy-tippy-tay like a gay tarantella

The young man's loins are a stirring once he lays eyes upon Louise (Nadia Hilker), a babe-o-licious local lassie who also takes a liking to Evan. Given her charm, beauty and eccentricity, we're pretty sure she harbours some kind of secret.

But, no matter. We get to enjoy a fair bit of boinking (including some nice flashes o' flesh) and for all those romantics out there, there's a whole whack o' Before Sunrise-like lovey-dovey-wanderings around the gorgeous terrain.

Evan, however, doesn't get to see what we see. These delights include Louise biting the head off a cat, developing pus-oozing sores and eventually a leisurely sojourn with her pet bunny rabbits leads to a cave wherein she doffs her clothes and scarfs back her cute, furry Leporidae - a kind of Night of the Lepus in reverse.

Yup, something's not quite right in Vesuvius County. Hell is going to break loose.

Will their hearts become one?
Will she eat him well done? That's Amore!

But you know, it really doesn't. We're forced to suffer through a mind-numbing romance twixt attractive twenty-somethings babbling a whole lot of inane dialogue with bouts of viscous ooze exploding Vesuvius-like from the young lady's body and even when she shares her secret (something involving stem cells), young Evan still loves her and keeps moping around, hoping they'll become a real couple someday which, it's revealed, is quite possible, if . . .

"Whatever!" I thought as I kept suffering through this insufferably twee 110 minutes of love. Not once do we feel any real threat to our leading man and those she does kill (aside from cute fur balls) are scumbags anyway, but the only real stakes are whether or not these two will find normal love together.

Someone watching this, I suppose, could care, but not this fella.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: ** (Film), ***½ (DVD/Blu-Ray)

Spring is now playing theatrically via Raven Banner and will be released June 2, 2015 on Blu-Ray, DVD and Digital via Anchor Bay Entertainment Canada, then on August 11, 2015 on the same formats via Anchor Bay in the USA. Fans of the film will appreciate over three hours of added value bonus materials including Audio commentary with writer-producer-editor-director Justin Benson and producer-editor-cinematographer-director Aaron Moorhead, the feature-length "The Making of Spring", Deleted scenes, SFX case studies, Proof of Concept short, Alternate ending, The Talented Mr. Evan (Featurette), Angelo: The Worst Farmer (Featurette), Wankster Girlfriend Monologue (Featurette) and Evan Ti Odio (Featurette)

A DAY IN THE COUNTRY - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Jean Renoir does de Maupassant

A Day in the Country (1936/1946)
Dir. Jean Renoir
Starring: Sylvia Bataille, Georges D’Arnoux,
Jane Marken, André Gabriello, Jacques Brunius, Paul Temps

Review By Greg Klymkiw

A Day in the Country, made by Jean Renoir in 1936 is a mere 40 minutes long, but it's so perfect that I'd never wish for it to be any longer than it is. This short film, or featurette (often referred to now as a mid-length feature - mostly in the area of documentary films) is a dazzlingly romantic and bittersweet love story which resonates with deep humanity and truth, as much now as it surely must have when it was unveiled almost 70+ years ago. That the film has survived and not dated in terms of its aesthetic aims is a marvel, but then again, it is Jean Renoir, after all, one of the greatest filmmakers of all time. How could it be any less?

The short dramatic film is an art unto itself and in recent years (at least two decades, in reality), it's been extremely depressing to see so many of them that serve as little more than "calling cards" for young filmmakers wanting to make a feature, or worse, to get a job directing series television. These, for me, are the most egregious misuse of the art, but the other intolerable misuse are the seemingly endless punchline pictures wherein everything is set-up to solely deliver a surprise ending, usually reducing the whole viewing experience to little more than the cinematic equivalent of a joke. The latter I'm hesitant to bring up in solely negative terms, only because, it's an approach that can work when the filmmaker is generating work of a clever, razor-sharp satirical (not spoof or parodic) nature, as in the case of something like Marv Newland's immortal Bambi Meets Godzilla.

Ah, but Renoir! A Day in the Country is not only a great film for movie-lovers (and lovers, period), but is, I think an important film to expose to young filmmakers, in addition to the sumptuous, intelligent and highly inspirational added features on the Criterion Collection Blu-Ray, because I think the whole package has value to instil, at least within the best filmmaking students (at least those who truly count) the inherent values of what it means to strive for genuine moviemaking excellence. The film is a marvel of narrative genius, features a masterly use of the medium and ultimately, is a movie that resonates because its core thematic values are inherently entrenched in the work so as to always run parallel to every tool at a filmmaker's disposal to render dramatic beats.

I'm not meaning to get all Syd Field and/or (God Forbid) Robert McKee on you, this is Renoir after all, but it's important to acknowledge what makes great films immortal and to examine the simple details of the filmmaking process which contribute to achieving a universality within the storytelling - one which is regionally and historically specific and yet, not hampered by elements which render the piece ephemeral. And, of course, it's an adaptation of a story by Guy de Maupassant, no slouch in the writing department, if you follow my drift.

Like most great work, the veneer is perfectly simple. The Dufours are a mega-petit-bourgeois family of moderately comfortable means. Monsieur Dufour (André Gabriello) owns a hardware store in Gay Paree and decides to treat the family to a pleasant sojourn outside the city for a Sunday outing. The final destination is a country inn along the Seine where they plan to enjoy nature, order a meal of fresh fish and picnic outdoors.

Monsieur Dufour proves to be a plump stuffed shirt who either can't afford or, more likely, is too cheap to own a cart, preferring to have borrowed one from his milkman. He mostly ignores and tut-tuts his seemingly frivolous, but good-hearted and good-humoured wife (Jane Marken) and worse, is far too accepting that Anatole (Paul Temps), his miserable, dopey, rail-thin assistant at the store has been betrothed to his beautiful, vivacious and intelligent daughter Henriette (Sylvia Bataille, married in real life to Georges Bataille!!! AND then Jacques Lacan!!!). The snooty Grandmother (Gabrielle Fontan) mostly holds court from her generous tuffet, exuding all the more annoying traits of the petit bourgeoisie.

Into this set-up, we've become acquainted with a pair of boatmen, fishermen and jacks-of-all-trades at the inn who offer their services to city dwellers keen to traverse the gentle waterways and visit islands in the general vicinity. Whilst the Dufour family settles outside, the men eat their own lunch from inside the inn (rural types express derision over such indulgences) and, opening the window, gaze at the bourgeois antics with requisite incredulity, but most of all, focusing their gaze upon the assembled women.

Rodolphe (Jacques Brunius, actor, director, author, critic, British broadcasting personality) is by far the randiest of the two men and so desperately wants his friend Henri (Georges D'Arnoux, assistant director, race car driver) to pair up with him in attempting to make a grand seduction, that he agrees to go after the portly Madame DuFour and leave Sylvie alone for his pal. Henri is dolefully serious and insists that genuine love is his goal and that a cheap tryst is not his slice of cheese nor glass of wine. He grudgingly agrees to go along with Rodolphe's plan as he is genuinely struck by Henriette's beauty, but also does not wish to disappoint his best friend.

We're then treated to a delightful Renoir roundelay of discourse amongst the boatmen and the family until Rodolphe's plan bears fruit and he's on a skiff with the clearly charmed Madame DuFour and Henri, as agreed in advance, with Henriette. Grandma naps whilst Monsieur DuFour and the horrid Anatole engage in a series of botched attempts to fish in the Seine.

Most of the focus is upon Henri and Henriette and we are treated to one of the loveliest, most romantic interludes in all of French cinema. The film eventually flashes forward to a future juncture in the lives of the characters and here, Renoir delivers a one-two punch of sheer sorrow and regret, inspiring yet another superlative - one of the most profoundly moving sequences in all of French cinema.

Renoir, of course, was wise to have adapted de Maupassant's great story to the screen. Its framework and characters are not only film worthy, but perfect material for the director of such masterworks as The Rules of the Game and Grand Illusion and the rest of his vital dramatic examinations of class structure and honour. He brings incredible economy to cinematically introducing the world of the film and its characters. Most importantly are his visual perspectives upon the natural world and its relationship to the characters and by extension, to all of humanity. His subtly effective ways of always keeping the focus in the story twixt Henriette and Henri is so dazzling, its sheer genius can move especially acute viewers to tears, especially the focus upon Henriette, including the now iconographic sequence of the screen beauty on a swing.

Renoir also displayed his natural gifts as a filmmaker in terms of dealing with exigencies of production. The story required, nay, demanded clear skies and sun, but alas the weather in the area chosen for shooting (the Seine would, in 1936, have been far too populated and industrialized to tell this period tale) was stricken with an utterly anomalous series of rain and wind storms. Given that there are only two very brief scenes indoors, Renoir was faced with the decision of incorporating the weather into his story and it's astonishing how well it works, adding a fresh layer neither he, nor de Maupassant, could have imagined. Imagine, however, Renoir did and he renders it exquisitely.

Another fascinating aspect to the making of this stunning short drama is that some of the weather delays (there were days they absolutely could not shoot) is that Renoir had to leave the project before it was over. No matter. He planned his shots down to the most minute detail anyway, so that his trusty assistant director Jacques Becker (who would go on to be one of France's greatest directors, easily on a par with Renoir and Bresson) could continue in his absence. (I've always loved the fact that assistant directors in France are not cattle herders and/or pencil pushers as they are in North America - they're integral to artistic vision beyond mere mechanics.)

Further to the odd history of the film is that Renoir had an extended stint in Hollywood during the war, so that he was unable to completely finish and release A Day in the Country until 10 years later. It's been said this delay caused Henriette Bataille to lose a shot at stardom, but in actuality, production in France during the war years had changed drastically, plus she was also married at the time to the clearly insane, albeit brilliant Georges Bataille (no cakewalk, I assure you) and she did indeed gain considerable acclaim for her acting with screenwriter Jacques Prevert's acclaimed theatre company October and even won one of France's highest honours, the Suzanne-Bianchetti Award, bestowed only upon its most promising actresses (recent winners include Audrey Tatou, Isabelle Adjani and Isabelle Huppert, as well as Quebec's Genevieve Bujold).

A Day in the Country did indeed have a strange early life, but it now lives for all of us and will continue to do so for future generations.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: ***** 5 Stars

A Day in the Country is available on Blu-Ray from the Criterion Collection. In addition to a gorgeous 2K digital restoration, with an uncompressed mono soundtrack, a brilliant essay by the late Gilberto Perez and an all new Engish subtitle translation, the value of this release is huge for both Renoir enthusiasts and film fans, but the pedagogical value of the extras is of the highest level and includes a great 1962 introduction by Renoir, an interview with Renoir scholar Christopher Faulkner about the film’s production, a video essay by Faulkner on Renoir’s methods, an 89-minute compilation of valuable, eye-opening outtakes, screen tests and a 1979 interview with producer Pierre Braunberger. Please don't bother with getting this via iTunes or Hulu. This movie is worth owning in all its glory - to watch, study, fondle, fetishize and cherish.

In USA and the rest of the WORLD - BUY A Day in the Country - HERE!

In Canada - BUY A Day in the Country HERE, eh!

In UK BUY A Day in the Country HERE

THE PIN - Review By Greg Klymkiw

A young girl (Milda Gecaite) confronts an
ethnic-Russian collaborator in her secret
haven from Nazis searching for Jews.

Once again, I am thrilled to report that a terrific new Canadian film, THE PIN, opens theatrically on June 27, 2014. What I'm not thrilled to report is that this terrific new Canadian film is only playing in Toronto at the Canada Square Cinemas. Given its subject matter, this important film with a tremendous built-in audience needs Canada's largest exhibition chain Cineplex Entertainment to open screens for it in the myriad of ideal northern suburban venues in Vaughn, Thornhill, Richmond Hill, Markham, Newmarket and Aurora.

Obviously, one would want a wider audience than an ethnically-specific market, but for that, it would have benefitted from at least one play date in downtown Toronto (at least the Varsity 7). If The Pin does NOT play the Grant Park Cinema in Winnipeg - the perfect venue for it (if some decent grassroots marketing happens and a few dollars are spent on it) - then something's rotten in the state of Canuckville. Luckily, the Grant Park is NOT a Cineplex screen, but part of the Landmark chain. More on this below, and now……THE PIN

Milda Gecaite & Grisha Pasternak are lovers in a dangerous time.

Milda Gecaite and Grisha Pasternak, hiding from
the Nazis in Naomi Jaye's THE PIN.

The Pin (2013) ****
Dir. Naomi Jaye
Starring: Milda Gecaite, Grisha Pasternak, David Fox
Review By Greg Klymkiw

They're scars that last forever, borne of danger and carved into the right-hand palm belonging to a young Jewish girl (Milda Gecaite). In hiding from the Nazis, she obsessively, fearfully digs her fingernails into soft flesh. Her scars plunge deeper. Beyond layers of tissue, glancing over frayed nerve endings, cascading through marrow, these scars are emblazoned upon her eternal memory.

Ultimately, these pain-infused engravings are chiseled onto the subconscious mind, searing her very soul. She will be forever scarred by the haunting memories of looking down at the street from above, her mother looking up, training her maternal eyes at the rooftop where her daughter is safely hidden while family, friends and neighbours are led by Nazis to awaiting boxcars. Destined to face Hitler's Final Solution, the girl's entire family become part of the "cargo" that will be forcibly unloaded at the extermination camps of Nazi Germany.

It's World War II in Lithuania. German soldiers and ethnic-Russian collaborators are crawling all over the countryside surrounding the old barn the young girl hides in. She's eventually joined by a young Jewish boy (Grisha Pasternak). He too will bear a literal scar from the open flesh wound on his arm and like the girl, his own soul will be defaced by malignant memories. Having been buried alive in a shallow grave next to the bodies of his entire family (executed by a Nazi death squad), he wisely stayed still amongst the corpses. Having escaped a fatal bullet, he waited for a safe moment to crawl out of the dirt, dashed into the forest, soon discovering a momentary safe harbour with the girl in her solitary haven. What they both find is the tie that binds forever and for a time in the lives of these two young people, love blossoms and yields joy.

The Pin, Naomi Jaye's haunting, exquisitely rendered and deeply moving love story is her promising feature debut and signals the arrival of a film artist who approaches her craft with great beauty and emotional force. From her own script, Jaye allows us to be party to the soft, delicate and heartfelt courtship that takes place within the confines of this ramshackle, abandoned barn. Punctuating shifts in narrative, tone and the passing of days, Jaye always reminds us of a dazzling natural world that looks over the turmoils created by man, always reminding us that looking to the Heavens is the constant reminder of how small we are and yet, how significant we are to be a part of it and under its ever-present gaze.

The pace of the film is gorgeously languid, creating a bed from which we can almost participate in the hours and days of solitude - a brief respite for the hero and heroine (expertly played by Gecaite and Pasternak) before the madness around them infringes upon their almost-Eden-like existence. However, when the worst comes, Jaye's approach has lulled us into a state of grace not unlike that of her characters and the sheer horror and tragedy that befall our young lovers, though not unexpected (this is, after all, WWII), still hits us like a ton of bricks.

There's something here, almost tonally, that reminded me of the classic Louis Malle drama Au Revoir Les Enfants. Both films are set against the backdrop of innocents hiding from Nazi tyranny during the war, both offer a pleasingly delicate pace to allow for our sheer pleasure in seeing deep emotional bonds being created and then - WHAMMO! - what we expect, when we least expect it, is a shocker and we're then faced with the horrible truth of how war can instil a kind of madness in children (not unlike Spielberg's astonishing adaptation of J.G. Ballard's Empire of the Sun).

I'm of course more than happy to include The Pin in the same breath as the two aforementioned Malle and Spielberg pictures. Though both of them were created by masters at the peak of the powers, Jaye's film, while not without the sort of occasional flaws one finds in early works (a too obvious framing device, ever-so tiny dashes of didacticism and a few period slippages), is still so mature and harrowing that one feels she'll someday, if allowed the chance, to grow and blossom and move well into the same territory. What's remarkable about the film for me is its resolve to always maintain a challenging mise-en-scène of long takes in gorgeously composed shots - always allowing the frame of the camera to act as a kind of proscenium into the private lives of these two people against an extraordinary backdrop.

This is a brave and uncompromising work - one that reminds us, as we must always be reminded - of how the world of the recent past went so utterly, horribly and insanely wrong (and, with recent events, continues to do so) and that love, faith and a resolve to accept the natural world that rules and presides over us is what we must accept so IT might never happen again.

The Pin begins its Canadian theatrical release in Toronto at the Canada Square Cinema on Friday, June 27, 2014 via Search Engine Films. AND BONUS: It's the first Canadian Film ever made in the Yiddish Language.

You know, I'm so sick and tired of the Cineplex attitude towards Canadian film. They can well afford a more concerted effort to boost their corporate responsibility to our culture - especially since they have a virtual monopoly of first-run screens. They'll argue the need for commercial films, but the recent WolfCop debacle, a COMMERCIAL Canadian film that was handled so poorly in the GTA, that I was flabbergasted! It was allowed one play date downtown (on the wrong screen, no less). This was completely and utterly useless. That film should have been multiplexed all over the burbs where its audience exists. In (grudging) fairness to Cineplex, nobody bothered to spend money on WolfCop and fight tooth and nail to have it released properly in the right venues.

Well, now we have another potentially commercial independent film that has a decent theatrical marketplace. I can't quarrel with the Canada Square as a good venue for The Pin, but it needs a distributor to spend some dough on solid grass-roots marketing and have something resembling a substantial ad-buy to target additional screens. Most distributors of Canadian films learn on a Monday that Cineplex Entertainment has deigned to free up one screen a few days later on a Friday, usually as filler. This is no way to support, market and exhibit films theatrically. Something's got to change.

THE FACE OF LOVE - Review By Greg Klymkiw and Julia Klymkiw - Thanks to Mongrel Media and Star PR for facilitating the opportunity for The Film Corner to launch this new regular feature called IN THIS (FILM) CORNER WITH DADDY & JULIA. And now, here's the very his first father-daughter team review.

The Face of Love is a romantic drama from director and co-writer Arie Posin about a husband (Ed Harris) and wife (Annette Bening) whose love is cut short when the woman's husband drowns.

Years later, she continues to rebuff romantic overtures from her husband's best friend (Robin Williams) and instead embarks on a very strange and romantic journey when she meets a man (Ed Harris) who is his double.

The requisite weirdness ensues. - G.K.

THE FACE OF LOVE (2014) Dir. Arie Posin
Starring: Annette Bening, Ed Harris, Robin Williams

By Greg Klymkiw (Daddy) and Julia Klymkiw (Daughter)
Transcript of a critical conversation between Greg Klymkiw and Julia Klymkiw on April 17, 2014
(Star Ratings From Dad and Julia at the end of the piece.)

Julia: I loved that movie.

Greg: Uh, why?

Julia: I thought it was great. The whole concept of it was just so weird and the writer and director told a story that was full of important story beats that if you missed any of it, you'd really be losing out. You know how some movies you can go out to get candy or go to the washroom and when you get back, it really doesn't matter that you missed anything, but with this movie, if you did that, you could really get lost for awhile and it would spoil what's great about the movie. It's kinda like a thousand piece jigsaw puzzle. If you're missing a few pieces it looks pretty stupid.

Greg: I can think of more than a few movies like that.

Julia: Yeah, like, really.

Greg: Did you genuinely think The Face of Love was that original?

Julia: I remember seeing a few movies like it, but this one is different because it was unbelievable and believable at the same time. The unbelievable part was that it wasn't unreal or you know, phoney, but that through the movie so many things happen that are, like, you can't believe this lady is doing what she's doing. It's unbelievably real and believably unreal. Here's someone who's married to this wonderful man, he dies and then she's so super-sad that she can't really get him out of her head. When she meets a guy who looks just like him, she follows him around and when they get to meet each other he's instantly attracted to her. What Annette Bening does next though is really dumb. Instead of telling him the truth, she makes up stories about her husband. She kind of creates this whole different person who didn't exist so that Ed Harris, this lookalike can somehow take the place of her husband as if nothing happened. All the way through the movie I was squirming . . .

Greg: I noticed.

Julia: Well it was so emotional. I kept wanting to yell at the screen and tell her not to do what she was doing.

Greg: I remember how you kept turning to look at me with your mouth wide open and how you would make these nutty noises like you were hyper-ventilating.

Julia: It wasn't that bad, Dad. You get so crazy when we watch movies. If someone drops a pin you hear it and want to punch them in the face.

Greg: Your exaggerating.

Julia: DAD! You say that all the time.

Greg: Well, it's not that bad.

Julia: Dad, I've seen you yell at people in the movie theatre and throw stuff at them if they're eating too loud or even whispering.

Greg: Okay, okay. Maybe a little, but back to the movie, what did you think was so suspenseful about it?

Julia: Well, it was suspenseful, but not like in a horror movie. It wasn't scary or anything. It was suspenseful in that way that watching real people do stuff they shouldn't be doing - well, I guess that happens in horror movies too, but this was more like real life and when you see that kind of thing going on in real life situations in the movies, you think that maybe it's something that could really happen. I really liked both of these characters and in real life I think I'd like them too, but so much so that I'd be wanting things to work out for them and to feel like I didn't want bad stuff to happen. But every time Annette Bening does something crazy and lie to him and other people, I felt sorry for Ed Harris, but I also felt sorry for her because I kept thinking how being more truthful might have made things different for both of them.

Greg: I don't know. I found the movie enjoyable enough, but all through it I kept thinking it was ripping off Vertigo but for no good reason. It was like Alfred Hitchcock deciding he wanted to make a soap opera for housewives sitting at home with curlers in their hair and stuffing bonbons down their throats when they should be sweeping the floor.

Julia: DAD!!! That's so sexist! I can't believe you sometimes. Besides, The Face of Love is a totally different movie than Vertigo. Alfred Hitchcock makes movies that are really scary. The suspense in them is way different than in a realistic movie.

Greg: You don't think Vertigo is realistic?

Julia: Yeah, but in a different way. When Jimmy Stewart is following that girl around and then tries to make her look more like the girl he thinks is dead, that's like, sick. And yeah, Annette Bening is sick too. She's sick with sadness.

Greg: Well, so's Jimmy Stewart.

Julia: Dad, it's different. In Vertigo, it's the same girl. In The Face of Love, Ed Harris is really playing two completely different people. That's way different. And it's not supposed to be scary like Hitchcock. It's more like real life, like people any of us could know now.

Greg: Your Dad knows a few people like Jimmy Stewart in Vertigo.

Julia: Yeah, and you guys are so sick. I've seen those movies you made with Guy [Maddin].

Greg: Well, be that as it may . . .

Julia: Dad, face it. This movie is amazing. So's Vertigo, but face it, Dad, face it. They're two different movies. Oh, by the way, I love the actors in The Face of Love. I don't think I've seen Annette Bening in too many movies, but it's kind of cool that two weeks ago you showed me The Right Stuff when Ed Harris was so young and playing that famous astronaut. I can see how Ed Harris could play that role and so long later in his life play one like in The Face of Love. In this movie, he really does a great job because he plays two different characters. Yes, they look the same and they're both very gentle and loving men, but the husband is definitely his own kind of guy. He's way more outgoing and his lookalike seems very shy.

There's also the difference that the second Ed Harris character is an artist. It's so romantic when he looks at her, because she is the thing that inspires him to do his art again instead of just teaching it. I almost cried in the scene where Annette Bening looks at the painting he's done of her. It's like he's been looking at her like a piece of art, but art that comes from inside him. I sure wish the movie had just ended on the face of love, which was her face on the painting instead of when the director cuts back to her. That would have been way better I think.

Oh, and I loved seeing Robin Williams as the next door neighbour and best friend of the Ed Harris character who died. He was so sweet and goofy and it's sort of sad that he loves Annette Bening, but that to her, he's not only the friend of her dead husband, but he's more like a brother to her. She likes him, maybe she even loves him, but it's never going to be the way two people love each other when they really love each other.

Greg: One thing I'll say in the movie's favour is that it's about adults.

Julia: That's really true. It's great seeing movies about young people, but it's way more interesting when you see people who have lived so much longer and experience stuff in a different way from when they're young.

Greg: Well, it's not like either actor is that old . . .

Julia: I know. Especially Annette Bening. She's really young compared to Ed Harris.

Greg: Well, there's definitely an age difference between them. How old do you think Annette Bening is?

Julia: I don't know. Maybe 30.

Greg: Annette Bening would probably love to give you a big hug right now. She's pretty much the same age as Dad is.

Julia: Really? I can't believe that.

Greg: Well, that's movie stars for you.

Julia: Wow! Annette Benning is so cool. She's really beautiful and such a great actress. I really felt bad for her because even though I know she's doing the wrong thing with Ed Harris, I can understand it and I believed it the way she plays the role. When I was watching it, I remember looking at Annette Bening - I think it's when she's looking at Ed Harris when he doesn't know she's looking at him and the look on her face was just so real. And you know, I really understand what her character is going through. When Snowy [Julia's Bichon Frise] was killed by the car, every time I saw a dog that looked like her, I'd want to pick it up and cuddle it and sometimes I did, but then I'd cry, because it wasn't Snowy.

During The Face of Love, I kept hoping Annette would realize that you can't ever bring back something that's dead. You can remember it and still love it and have those great memories, but when it's gone, it's gone. You know, looking at Annette's face while she looks at Ed Harris, I actually remember thinking during the movie how snowflakes can look so beautiful and maybe sometimes there are things similar about them, but snowflakes are always different. You can never really find any two that are identical no matter how much you might love how one looks before it melts away.

You need to hold on to the memory of that special snowflake, because it's not going to be here forever, except maybe in your memory.

The Face of Love is in limited release via Mongrel Media.
The Film Corner ratings are as follows:
Julia: ***½
Dad: **

STAY - Review By Greg Klymkiw - No matter how much one tries to gussy it up, twee is as twee is and always will be. Twee, that is.

Stay (2014) Dir. Wiebke von Carolsfeld *½
Starring: Aidan Quinn, Taylor Schilling, Michael Ironside

Review By Greg Klymkiw

I always liked Aidan Quinn, but he really hasn't had a decent role since Barry Levinson's Avalon almost one quarter of a century ago. As such, I was kind of looking forward to seeing him in this movie - one I knew little about, save for the fact that he was in it and had a starring role opposite Taylor Schilling (an actress of dubious gifts, but not without some screen presence displayed in a clutch of bad movies like The Lucky One, Argo and (Ugh!) Atlas Shrugged). Alas, my heart sank a tiny bit when a head credit popped up which read: "With the financial participation of Telefilm Canada". I thought, oh, perhaps this won't be a real movie after all, but a Canadian movie pretending to be a foreign film with pig-in-a-poke "names" as window dressing to sucker audiences in to see it. Still, I was willing to give this a shot. Unfortunately, the movie's staggeringly stereotypical Canadian preciousness announced itself right at the outset as Quinn kicks a tin can along the ground as he walks along a lovely big-sky aquatic vista.

Great way to open a movie - kicking a can, looking forlorn against a topographical backdrop that might as well have been some Maritime Canadian locale. Luckily, it's not Canada, but Ireland. I recall thinking, "Well, at least I won't have to listen to Maritime fiddle music or Newfie rugby songs."

Well, maybe luck isn't with me. The soundtrack began to swell with some sickeningly twee folk song with the twittering voice of an Irish lass as Quinn enters his home, prepares a lovely tray of breakfast-in-bed and saunters gently into the boudoir where a gorgeous, young Taylor Schilling sleeps ever-so soundly.

Ack!

The movie then veered into territory I fully expected it to (based upon the initial letdown of the Telefilm Canada credit) and it does so with all the typical, uh, flair of a Canadian movie that values studied, ambrosial flatness.

Based upon a novel I haven't read by Aislin Hunter, I think perhaps I can't heap all my disdain for this flaccid movie and its ho-hum narrative upon screenwriter-director Wiebke von Carolsfeld since she did a perfectly decent job with Daniel MacIvor's Marion Bridge. But damn! This is one rink-dink sojourn into Dullsville that not even the presence of Aidan Quinn can quite save.

Quinn plays a semi-retired Archeology professor who lives in this relatively obscure small Irish community with his best gal, the supple late-20-something Schilling whose cradle he robbed during a trip to nearby Galway. It turns out the lassie is preggers with Aidan's seed and due to a deep, dark secret (revealed later on), he's not too keen on having kids. Schilling, conveniently from Montreal (allowing for a co-production twixt Canada and Ireland for this movie), decides to travel back to La Belle Province to engage in some soul searching with her Dad (Michael Ironside, looking very uncomfortable without automatic weaponry in his arms). Quinn does his fair share of soul searching too. We basically bounce back and forth between the Emerald Isle and French Canada's very own City of Lights as both characters spend a lot of time thinking about their relationship as well as the notion of having a child.

The lion's share of this whole-lotta-ruminating-going-on takes place in the Land o' Leprechauns where we get treated to subplots involving a young lad who is fatherless, a young preggers Momma who is motherless and Quinn learning a few lessons from both of them. Schilling learns a few lessons from friends and relatives in Montreal and even more sickeningly, we discover that her own Momma buggered off long ago because she didn't want a child. Wow! So many people abandoned by their Mamas and Papas. It's no wonder all these conveniently converging plot lines require a fair bit of mulling over.

If any of this had been treated with some good old fashioned passion and panache, it might have been palatable - maybe even, uh, good - but of course, since the movie is ultimately Canadian and not directed with any of the oomph Canadians can deliver (Cronenberg, Maddin, Veninger, the Soska Sisters, etc.), we're treated to little more than a limp, precious meander that doesn't even have the sort of TV-movie watchability that many Canadian dramas are infused with. In spite of some potential for roiling melodrama, all we get is a movie that's not edgy enough to be art, nor narratively competent enough to be entertaining.

Like many Canadian films (and, in fact, resembling much of the country's ethos), Stay sits rigidly on a fence post - the tip of it, and beyond, lodged firmly in that place where the sun don't shine.

"Stay" is distributed by Alliance VivaFilm in Montreal and is enjoying a limited run in that otherwise magical city and the not-so-magical city of Toronto at the TIFF Bell Lightbox.

OMAR - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Oases of humanity amidst the Conflict! Oscar-nominated thriller exposes love, loyalty and retribution against Palestinian-Israeli backdrop. There, but by the Grace of God go all of us.

In a crazy world, what do the problems of little people ever really amount to?

LOVE DURING WARTIME

Omar (2013) ****
Dir. Hany Abu-Assad
Starring: Adam Bakri, Waleed Zuaiter, Leem Lubany

Review By Greg Klymkiw

In the final moments of his stunning Oscar-nominated thriller Omar, Director Hany Abu-Assad (Paradise Now) slams you with a two-by-four to the face, but good-goddamn, it's satisfying. Knowing this is going to be no spoiler, no surprise, no shock whatsoever since the picture's flesh-curdling slow-burn is punctuated every so often with jolts of breathtaking ferocity.

Violence, however, is always contrasted with sweet and delicate moments of precious humanity which, like oases, lull you under the hot sun of the West Bank - so much so that it's not as if you never expect the conclusion will do anything but knock you on your ass, leaving you both winded and perversely elated. Like the best thrillers, you never see the worst coming. You feel it's an inevitability, to be sure, but even so, it doesn't mean you aren't clutching the arms of your seat, ready for anything at any given moment.

If truth be told, this surely comes as close as we're likely to get on film to what life must be like along the wall that separates the colonized and the colonizers amidst a never-ending conflict that feels omnipresently close to all of us in spite of being worlds away from what one outside of the ongoing deadly dissent is normally used to. Can we ever really know what such a life must be like without actually being there and living it? Of course not, but watching Omar, it's a testament to Abu-Assad's exemplary gifts as a filmmaker that we feel we're as mired in the thick of it as we ever want to be.

Omar (Bakri) is a handsome, sweet-faced young baker who risks being cut down daily by gunfire as he scales the deadly West Bank wall to see Nadia (Lubany), the beautiful woman he so desperately loves. Ah, but if it were only this simple. Life here is anything but. Omar risks life and limb to fight for the emancipation of his people as we find him on the precipice of actively joining the fray of violent political activism. As a burgeoning soldier of the Palestinian revolution, it feels like he has no choice - that he's been born into an eternal struggle against his Israeli oppressors. Joining his best friends on a deadly mission, Omar is caught between a rock and a hard place when he's eventually targeted to turn in his cohorts by Rami (Zuaiter), an Israeli secret agent who offers freedom and protection in exchange for this betrayal. Omar learns quickly that dealing with the devil never ends quickly or easily and in fact, has no end unless he can find a way of playing both sides against the centre to keep himself truly safe. It's cat and mouse all the way, only the odds increase exponentially with every ever-increasing malignancy of a game that feels like a vortex of infinite betrayal.

There's never any doubts as to where our sympathies must lie. The violence, death, deception, terror and torture reside around every paranoid corner and no matter what side of the equation we're on, there can be no doubting that this is no way for any human being to live. It's a movie that feels like there are no false notes and Abu-Assad's artistry and virtuosity as a filmmaker allows for superb performances, complex character study as well as all the edge-of-the-seat suspense any picture can deliver.

The film's greatest triumph, however, is its unwavering humanity in the face of war's utter madness and that for much of the film, we're carried along by both love and commitment to such a degree that Omar is as much a condemnation of this way of life - on both sides - as it is a testament to loyalty in the face of betrayal. It doesn't take much to see that the problems of little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.

But, oh, they do. They most certainly do.

"Omar" is in theatrical release via Mongrel Media.

JULES AND JIM - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Truffaut travels to the sexy, sad, magical and melancholy world of the ménage à trois on Criterion Blu-Ray

Jules and Jim (1962) *****
Dir. Francois Truffaut
Starring: Jeanne Moreau, Oskar Werner, Henri Serre

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Though there are many iconic images and sequences one equates with Francois Truffaut's legendary film adaptation of the novel by Henri-Pierre Roché, its centrepiece for me, its heart, if you will, is a stunning montage of actual footage from World War I which, occurs in the middle portion of the film.

This evocative encapsulation of the Great War literally and figuratively separates the boys from the men, especially after experiencing a fun, funny, romantic and joyously freewheeling romp through turn of the century Paris with two best friends and the woman they both love.

Then, however, to be faced with the stark, grim realities of savagery among men is not only profoundly moving in and of itself, but reveals a terrible truth that faces the film's central characters and I suspect, as Truffaut hoped, faces all of us.

We witness and indeed experience the disintegration of that which was carefree and celebratory as it transforms into a world of war and death, then further gives way to the reality of post-war aimlessness, restlessness and complacency - perhaps to numb the horrors of war, but to also delineate a void that always existed, but could never be fully recognized until the sense of security youth brings is torn to shreds by facing the grim reality of how cruel life can be and most of all, how we can be little more than pawns on some much larger chessboard manipulated by forces well beyond our control.

Jules and Jim IS a lot of fun, though. We get to experience the "bro-mance" of the good pals (Oskar Werner as the German expat and Henri Serre as a de souche Parisian) whilst they discuss literature, indulge in gentlemanly arts like fencing and, of course, whiling away endless hours and days in outdoor bistros, sipping wine and/or coffee as the hustle and bustle of the world passes them by. And then, there is the ravishing Catherine (Jeanne Moreau) who steps into their lives and the love and friendship, rather than becoming complicated, explodes into pure joy. It's true that Jules and Catherine are lovers and that Jim carries a torch for her, but it's all very civilized as the trio simply enjoy each others' company and spend their days constantly having fun.

Buoyed along by Raoul Coutard's stunning black and white photography and the lush styling of composer Georges Delerue's sumptuously romantic musical score, Truffaut treats us to a 25-year-history of these three people with one dazzling set piece after another including the famous race-across-the-bridge scene which is as pure a cinematic rendering of love and friendship as the movies have given us.

Perhaps a jealousy factor would have eventually crept in, but the idyll of friendship is kept pristine and any conflicts of the heart are cut short by a much greater conflict when France and Germany and, eventually, the whole world goes to war.

The second half of the tale is where we delve into the maturation of the characters, but also experience the lingering effects of separation and war. Truffaut knows enough to keep the romantic fires burning, but he also infuses the tale with a melancholy that is finally what gives the film its heft. His use of the war montage is especially brilliant. He cherry picks actual news and stock footage of the conflict and rather than including any shots of Jules and Jim at all, he wisely and bravely continues with a very literary narration that explains that the characters are on opposing sides of the conflict.

In fact, throughout the film, Truffaut is not afraid to make use of what appears to be third-person descriptive passages as voice-over from Roché's book and he goes further by constantly dropping in establishing shots of both setting and time that are comprised of grainy stock footage. This not only roots the film in a time and place clearly mediated through both memory and cinema, but in so doing, takes the film into the kind of territory that expands its boundaries in all the ways that make the medium so special.

Anchoring a romantic tale by using news footage and narration places the narrative into the context of a kind of Pathé-like newsreel depicting a history of friendship and love against the much larger backdrop of Europe and the eventual conflict that tears it apart. And once again, this is an example of how simplicity is what yields the complexity needed to render a work universal. Truffaut achieves this both stylistically, but also by the passion and commitment he brings to the reality of how great friendships are often founded on common ground and that oftentimes are manifested in the same people being romantically and spiritually attracted to each other in a world where society allows one love and one love only. Truffaut tells a tale so ahead of its time that even now, the world is not quite in a place for the love as depicted here is acceptable to the normally accepted mores of romance.

Thank God, the movies let it happen.

This, of course, is what cinema should be and we can be grateful when artists like Truffaut deliver work that is both entertainment and art of the highest level - work that lives well beyond the ephemeral needs of the marketplace and continues to delight, tantalize and influence. The film is now over 50 years old and yet it feels like it was made just yesterday. Jules and Jim will live for many more decades beyond that which it's already existed.

We owe Truffaut a debt of gratitude for that.

"Jules and Jim" is available on a lovely dual format Criterion Collection package of both DVD and Blu-Ray. Included are such bond bons de added value features as a new, restored 2K digital restoration, with uncompressed monaural soundtrack, two - COUNT ' EM - TWO commentary tracks: one featuring coscreenwriter Jean Gruault, longtime Truffaut collaborator Suzanne Schiffman, editor Claudine Bouché, and film scholar Annette Insdorf; the other featuring actor Jeanne Moreau and Truffaut biographer Serge Toubiana, excerpts from The Key to “Jules and Jim” (1985), a documentary about author Henri-Pierre Roché and the real-life relationships that inspired the novel and film, interviews with Gruault and cinematographer Raoul Coutard, a conversation between film scholars Robert Stam and Dudley Andrew, an excerpt from a 1965 episode of the French TV program Cinéastes de notre temps dedicated to Truffaut, a segment from a 1969 episode of the French TV show L’invité du dimanche featuring Truffaut, Moreau, and filmmaker Jean Renoir, excerpts from Truffaut’s first appearance on American television, a 1977 interview with New York Film Festival director Richard Roud, excerpts from a 1979 American Film Institute seminar given by Truffaut, a 1980 audio interview with Truffaut, the trailer and a first-rate booklet that includes an excellent essay by John Powers, a 1981 piece by Truffaut on Roché and script notes from Truffaut to co-screenwriter Gruault. This Criterion Collection collector's edition is an ABSOLUTE MUST-OWN item for anyone who genuinely loves cinema.