Thứ Ba, 8 tháng 5, 2012

FAT KID RULES THE WORLD - Review By Greg Klymkiw - This funny, joyous and moving new comedy directed by Matthew Lillard focusing on teen obesity continues its run at Toronto's Coolest independent theatre, The Projection Booth


Fat Kid Rules The World (2012) dir. Matthew Lillard

***1/2

Starring: Jacob Wysocki, Matt O'Leary, Billy Campbell, Dylan Arnold

Review By Greg Klymkiw

In America, 9 million children are obese. In Canada, one in four children are obese.

The vast majority of these North American children will remain obese and continue to make significant exponential weight gains into adolescence. The majority of these kids will carry extra poundage and make even more significant weight gains as adults.

Obesity costs the health care systems in North America over $100 billion dollars annually. It is a horrible disease that leads to a myriad of ailments, conditions and death. Maybe worst of all is the living death that comes from an utter lack of self-esteem - especially in adolescents.

I know.

Before the age of eight, I was rail-thin and active. In spite of my athletic prowess, I hated physical activity because it always seemed to get in the way of the thing I loved more than anything - movies.

I also discovered cheeseburgers.

I can remember the turning point as if it were yesterday. At age seven, during a sweltering July, my Mom picked up my little sister and I from a swimming lesson at the YMCA in north-end Winnipeg.

Mom took us to a glorious (now-long-gone) greasy spoon at the corner of McGregor and Mountain called the "Hi-Spot" where we pulled cold, wet bottles of Snow White cream soda from the huge red cooler near the counter - the stools populated by phlegm-hacking old Ukrainian men reading Racing Forms and smoking cigarettes. Transit Tom, as per usual in Winnipeg, was late.

Nothing like waiting at a bus stop populated by stunted, babushka-clad old ladies clutching shopping bags whilst we sucked back nice carbonated refreshers to greet the hot prairie sun hanging in the ocean-blue cloudless sky.

Tacked to the wood-paneled walls of the "Hi-Spot" was a huge colour poster of a hamburger delectably topped with melted orange-coloured cheese. I'd had hamburgers before, but this was something altogether new to my eyes and I longed to introduce it to my burgeoning palate.

I remember my mother refusing my request for this tempting comestible on the grounds that the restaurant itself was "unsanitary". She promised, however, to cook one up at home. When it happened a day or so later, I was hooked. In fact, my first cheeseburger was actually a patty of ground beef topped with globs of Kraft Cheese Whiz.

Later that year, McDonald's finally made its way to north-end Winnipeg. My best friend Ricky Klein and his family were headed there. They kindly invited me along. The parking lot was double and triple parked so Mr. Klein deposited his station wagon down the block and we made our pilgrimage to the Golden Arches - trudging like Scott of the Antarctic through deep snow and bitter prairie cold. Our goal was surely as precious to us as the South Pole had been for Scott.

The restaurant was full of eager Ukrainian and Jewish families from the neighbourhood, squeezed together in mutual sardine-like anticipation. I couldn't see anything at the front counter, just a sea of parka-adorned bodies - but when the family before us eventually squeezed their way out, it was not unlike the parting of the Red Sea (or, take your pick, like the clouds at the Pearly Gates as Jesus Christ beckoned us to enter).

"What'll you have?" asked Mr. Klein.

"A cheesburger!" I blurted immediately.

"No!" cautioned Ricky. "Get a Bic Mac! That's what I'm having."

So, two-all-beef-patties-special-sauce-lettuce-cheese-pickles-onions-on-a-sesame-seed-bun later, I was well on my way to corpulence. Inactivity and cheeseburgers (along with a rapidly developing taste for Old Dutch potato chips, kishka, garlic sausage and varenyky smothered in butter and bacon fat) led to becoming "pleasantly plump", "husky", "porcine" and eventually, "circus freak".

Over a period of thirty-plus-years, I did lose thousands upon thousands of pounds.

I've been fat, lean and everything in between. At present, with the invaluable assistance of bariatric surgery I've melted off 300 pounds in 3 years and have a mere 100 to go. Never has a lifestyle change been more productive and pain-free.

Still, fat pigs - no matter how thin and healthy they get - always think of themselves as fat pigs. The psychological effects of obesity are overwhelming.

For kids, it's even worse.

Upon seeing Fat Kid Rules The World, Matthew Lillard's lovely film from the fine screenplay by Michael M.B. Galvin and Peter Speakman, I was completely gobsmacked by how honest and real its portrait of teen obesity was. On every level, the film indelibly captures both the bittersweet and dark humour associated with the pain and horror of what it's like to be a fat kid. Most importantly, it tells an inspiring and genuinely realistic story of how a fat kid not only gains the acceptance of peers, but to respect the inner qualities beneath the mounds of lard and flesh.

That the film also touches upon themes of friendship, loyalty and the importance of family is a mega-bonus.

That the film offers punk rock as a creative outlet for the main character to develop a greater sense of self-worth is several extra scoops of hot fudge marshmallow sauce on the cinematic ice cream sundae that is Fat Kid Rules The World.

Oh, and a few cheeseburgers, of course.

Troy (Jacob Wysocki) is a poker-faced fat kid with no friends - save for those he knows via cyber-world avatars as he plays endless hours of online shooter games. His single Dad (Billy Campbell) is an ex-Marine who values athletic prowess and lavishes most of his attention upon Troy's younger brother Dayle (Dylan Arnold).

The kid's not really asking for much out of life, but life keeps tossing wads of shit in his face. Troy pines to attend the prom with the prettiest girl in school. His gym teacher finds every excuse under the sun to inflict physical activity/torture upon him. He sweats. He shuffles. He wheezes. He's picked on. He's laughed at. He's the target of every derisive prejudicial assumption both kids and adults have about obesity. He imagines, finally, a better world for all concerned - including himself - if he commits suicide.

Alas, Troy can't even kill himself properly. Stepping in front of a bus, he's rescued by Marcus (Matt O'Leary), a charming, inveterate bad boy who's been suspended from the same school our portly protagonist attends. Friendship is not too far behind - especially since Marcus suggests Troy be the drummer in his new punk band. Troy, however, doesn't know how to play drums. Marcus laughs this off. It's punk, after all. He also has friends in high places. A local bar owner Marcus knows is a former master drummer and Troy exchanges his janitorial services for lessons.

Conflict ensues when Troy gets really good, but Marcus begins to spiral downwards with his own sense of self-worth. Friendship, family and commitment must rule the day, but in life (and even in the movies), nothing is ever an easy-fix.

Fat Kid Rules The World is, without question, one of the most entertaining and heartfelt American films I've seen in quite some time. Lillard's direction is firm and he really has a knack for composing and capturing the film's mix of deadpan and dark comedy, yet balancing this with the movie's heavy-hitting combination of sentiment and humanity. Lillard also inspires a perfect cast - especially the brilliant Jacob Wysocki (Terri) as Troy. Wysocki's got a great hangdog mug, terrific comic timing and a formidable sense of restraint.

Galvin and Speakman's fabulous writing is never given short-shrift by Lillard. His stylistic flourishes are always subtle and as such, allows the depth of character and superb dialogue to breath and pulsate with life. The various turns in the story offer a great deal of surprise and as I alluded to earlier, none of the challenges come without a fight - we're always involved and transfixed with the journey of Troy and those around him.

And though it soon becomes clear that the film is building to a triumphant finish, the screenplay peppers the action with numerous life-like details that always root us in reality - the reality of acceptance and most of all, the reality that life is never perfect, but that we grasp and hold on to those things that best reflect the infinite joy and wonder of the world.

Importantly, the film MUST be seen by as many people as possible - teens, adults and educators. Obesity - especially in kids - is a horrific disease, yet it's so often looked upon by the majority of the population as some sort of weakness in the individuals afflicted with it. Save perhaps for alcoholism, obesity is the only medical condition to have not benefitted by the changing attitudes inspired by the non-facist aspects of political correctness.

Those afflicted with obesity require compassion, understanding, love, friendship and a helping hand.

Not prejudice.

Here's hoping Fat Kid Rules The World is a hit.

A real hit!

It not only deserves it, but so too do movie audiences of all ages and tastes.

The picture is first-rate entertainment, but it is endowed with a special gift - one that could actually change the world. Movies like that don't come along everyday, so don't miss this one.

"Fat Kid Rules The World" continues its theatrical run at Toronto's coolest indie movie house The Projection Booth on Gerrard Street East, just south of India Town. For information and showtimes, visit the Projection Booth website HERE. MISS THIS AT YOUR PERIL.

"Fat Kid Rules The World" had its Canadian premiere at the inaugural edition of the TIFF Next Wave film festival at TIFF Bell Lightbox.

Chủ Nhật, 6 tháng 5, 2012

GregKlymkiw's 5 COOLEST Movies at the 2012 Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival in Toronto. These movies are cooler than cool, so if you are cool, you'll want to see them because cool movies make the world go round - as do cool people. In alphabetical order, Klymkiw's Coolest Hot Docs are:

BIG BOYS GONE BANANAS*!: Like a Kafka nightmare through a David Lynchian dreamscape of terror, this great movie depicts an artist going through the legal torture inflicted upon him by a multinational corporation (and everyone on their payroll). It's stomach-turning. FULL REVIEW HERE
DRAGAN WENDE - WEST BERLIN: Vuk Maksimovic, a burgeoning cinematographer in Serbia, had, for years, heard tales of his legendary, high-rolling Uncle Dragan in Berlin. Now he was going to get to know him. Armed with two cameras and two trusted colleagues, he has made one of the most original, entertaining and penetrating documentaries about the wild days of pre-and-post communist society. FULL REVIEW HERE
THE PUNK SYNDROME: "Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day" is, without question, one of the greatest punk bands of all time. They are the unforgettable subjects of this breathtaking feature documentary that declares: "I demand your immediate attention or you die, motherfucker!" FULL REVIEW HERE
PUSHWAGNER: This movie rocks! It rocks hard! This is easily one of the best documentaries I've ever seen about a contemporary artist. And WHAT an artist! What a movie! FULL REVIEW HERE


THE WORLD BEFORE HER: What is the future for the young women of modern India? Is it adherence to thousands of years of subservient tradition or finding success through beauty? The chasm between the two couldn't be wider, but we discover in Nisha Pahuja's extraordinary film (recent Best Documentary Winner at the Tribeca Film Festival), the differences are often skin deep as parallel lines clearly exist beneath the surface. FULL REVIEW HERE

Thứ Sáu, 4 tháng 5, 2012

GREG KLYMKIW'S 15 BEST FILMS AT TORONTO'S HOT DOCS CANADIAN INTERNATIONAL DOCUMENTARY FILM FESTIVAL 2012 EDITION - RANKED IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER

AN AFFAIR OF THE HEART: Director Sylvia Caminer's slick and entertaining tribute to 80s heart-throb Rick Springfield focuses on the fans who adore him and the unique relationship he has with them. FULL REVIEW HERE

BIG BOYS GONE BANANAS*!: Like a Kafka nightmare through a David Lynchian dreamscape of terror, this great movie depicts an artist going through the legal torture inflicted upon him by a multinational corporation (and everyone on their payroll). It's stomach-turning. FULL REVIEW HERE

DETROPIA:Rachel Grady/Heidi Ewing's (Jesus Camp) probing, provocative portrait of urban blight. Amidst crime, poverty and decay, there's still a pulse and heartbeat of something very cool. FULL REVIEW HERE

DRAGAN WENDE - WEST BERLIN: Vuk Maksimovic, a burgeoning cinematographer in Serbia, had, for years, heard tales of his legendary, high-rolling Uncle Dragan in Berlin. Now he was going to get to know him. Armed with two cameras and two trusted colleagues, he has made one of the most original, entertaining and penetrating documentaries about the wild days of pre-and-post communist society. FULL REVIEW HERE

FINDING NORTH: Focusing upon hunger in America, this important, passionate film moves like a shark, attacking its subject with precision and ferocity. Beautifully shot and edited, the craft is very high. We not only get great music from T Bone Burnett and the Civil Wars, but fervent appearances by Tom Colicchio AND Jeff Bridges. FULL REVIEW HERE

HERMAN'S HOUSE: This is an extraordinary film about extraordinary people in a country that has sadly learned nothing since 1776 but the right of might, the power of the dollar and the exploitation of the poor. Here's the Klymkiw Film Corner review of Herman's House: FULL REVIEW HERE

JEFF: It's a testament to the director's ability to work with three fascinating subjects and get the phenomenal footage he wrenches out of them - in spite of the unwelcome and unnecessary dramatics recreations, that this film still holds up as the most powerful rendering of the atrociously horrific crimes of Jeffrey Dahmer yet committed to film. FULL REVIEW HERE

THE LEGEND OF A WARRIOR: A personal doc wherein filmmaker Corey Lee reclaims his Chinese roots by training with his Dad, the legendary Frank Pang Lee, a great master of the martial arts who personally trained the equally legendary Billy Chow, the reigning world kickboxing champion through much of the 80s and a stalwart actor in over 50 martial arts pictures. FULL REVIEW HERE

MY NAME IS FAITH: Harrowing doc focuses on a deeply intelligent and beautiful 12-year-old girl, so neglected and abused by her birth mother, that she is stricken with and must battle Attachment Disorder in order to accept love from those who are willing and able to give it. FULL REVIEW HERE

PEACE OUT: This extraordinary picture takes you by surprise and leaves you breathless. As we dive into Charles Wilkinson and Tina Schliessler's vital film about environmental rape to build a new damn (typo intentional), we're eventually party to cinema of the highest order. FULL REVIEW HERE

THE PROPHET: Very similar to Godfrey Reggio's Qatsi trilogy (Koyaanisqatsi, Powaqqatsi, and Naqoyqatsi), as well as Ron Fricke's Baraka, Gary Tarn's film uses music and image to convey Kahlil Gibran's philosophies which, I grudgingly must admit, work perfectly within the context of the contemporary events used. That Gibran's words are delivered with such power by Thandie Newton sure doesn't hurt. FULL REVIEW HERE

THE PUNK SYNDROME: "Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day" is, without question, one of the greatest punk bands of all time. They are the unforgettable subjects of this breathtaking feature documentary that declares: "I demand your immediate attention or you die, motherfucker!" FULL REVIEW HERE

PUSHWAGNER: This movie rocks! It rocks hard! This is easily one of the best documentaries I've ever seen about a contemporary artist. And WHAT an artist! What a movie! FULL REVIEW HERE


THE QUEEN OF VERSAILLES: If I hadn't know otherwise, I might have thought that Lauren Greenfield's feature documentary was, in fact, an intensely satirical mockumentary on consumer culture in America. It's real, alright! All TOO real. FULL REVIEW HERE

THE WORLD BEFORE HER: What is the future for the young women of modern India? Is it adherence to thousands of years of subservient tradition or finding success through beauty? The chasm between the two couldn't be wider, but we discover in Nisha Pahuja's extraordinary film (recent Best Documentary Winner at the Tribeca Film Festival), the differences are often skin deep as parallel lines clearly exist beneath the surface. FULL REVIEW HERE

PUSHWAGNER - Reviewed By Greg Klymkiw - HOT DOCS 2012 MUST-SEE #15

Pushwagner (2012) dir. August B. Hanssen, Even Benestad ****
Review by Greg Klymkiw
"But then they danced down the street like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww!'" - Jack Kerouac

Pushwagner rocks! It rocks hard! This has easily got to be one of the best documentaries I've ever seen about a contemporary living artist. And WHAT an artist! What a movie! On the surface, we learn very little about Norway's septuagenarian bad boy beat-punk maniac artist and yet we learn EVERYTHING we need to know. What's fabulous about the picture - among so many things - is that it never slips into the horrid doc-cliches of so many profile biography portraits. We meet who we need to meet. We hear who we need to hear from. We learn what we need to know. No endless parade of ex-friends-lovers-family-pundits. No endless, boring details about his life (just the good stuff, thanks). No annoying insert shots. No twee solo guitar strumming or piano tinkles in the background (just a stunning, vibrant musical score from composer Gisle Martens Meyer). Even the central conflict of the film, his court battle to regain control of all his artwork that he mistakenly signed over to a former associate, is handled in a compact manner evocative of Pushwagner himself. Mostly, all we need to know is what we get in spades - Pushwagner is clearly some kind of genius, an astounding artist and totally fucking cooler than cool!


The art. WOW! First of all, Pushwagner as a human being is a work of art. The movie opens with a great image of one of his paintings and words of his mad wisdom that pretty much summarize the film, Pushwagner, art, life and (at least for me) the central question of the universe and why we're even here.

Pushwagner Declaration: "You have to press on like a bulldozer to reveal the man behind the mask for future generations."


Tell me about it! Rock on, man. Give me more.

We see the mad genius directing the directors. They know what they're doing. They get what they need and then some. Ah, but what movies I'd have loved to see Pushwagner direct. At least I can imagine them. At least my imaginings can, after seeing this astounding motion picture, permeate my dreams. I can let the pieces of Pushwagner time float about my cerebellum in those deepest points of slumber.

Pushwagner Declaration: "Control has nothing to do with fantasy. Art is fiction. It's about telling a good lie. It doesn't matter as long as it's entertaining. The fun thing about it, is not whether it's true or false, it's the story itself."


The central question that presses on like a bulldozer to reveal the man behind the mask for future generations is this: In a documentary portrait of anyone or anything: Who has upper hand? The subject or the director?

Or both?

Pushwagner demands the filmmakers ask him what he is reading. He demands they compose the shot to his liking. He demands to reveal what he IS reading. He tells them what their next question SHOULD have been.

A stirring series of shots as Pushwagner marches through the streets on his way to court. He will do battle with his former collaborator/assistant Morten Dreyer. He gave 2000 artworks to Dreyer. He wants them back. I know nothing about Dreyer. For all I know, he is a lost bastard child of my favourite director of all time, Carl Dreyer and has assumed this surname, abandoning that of his birth mother. This is not true, of course. It doesn't have to be. I'm more than happy to imagine it. To let it permeate my brain cells. It's a lie, of course. A good lie, I think. Would Pushwagner think so? Probably not. In the meantime, he wants his art back from Dreyer - not much else matters.

Pushwagner Declaration: "If you don't fight you won't survive. You need opposition."


And the art. Creepy, haunting, funny. Hordes of suited suits in dead cities of glass. Magritte by way of Jack Kirby. Bureaucrats. Dead, Empty. So alive.

Pushwagner Declaration: "Art means life or death. In the last 40 years I've lived a vagrant life. Between different social strata but also in different rooms."


Axel Jensen - writer extraordinaire. Pushwagner's chief influence. Collaborator on several great books. And an astounding montage that sucks us into the Pushwagner-Jensen world of Soft City, an artistic collaboration seldom paralleled.

And the vodka. Endless vodka. Mother's milk down Pushwagner's gullet.


Pushwagner Declaration: "To listen to rock and roll you must live it."

What we wonder is when Pushwagner will keel over? Will it happen on film?

Pushwagner Declaration: "Only a catastrophe can change the human heart."


And there he lay in a hospital bed. Kidney failure. Dehydrated. Undernourished. For weeks, Pushwagner has ingested nothing but vodka. He looks to the homeless for guidance. He too was once homeless and like them, he seeks to "neutralize negative psychological circumstances by drinking."

His mantra is "so little time, so much to do".

Will he do it?

A mad dance with a Bloody Mary clutched in his hand. Crazed brilliant sketches during the court case. Refusing to speak at his own art show, then taking over from a mouth-piece to toast Mother Norway.

Pushwagner the artist. Pushwagner the man.

The man who "goes to loo and wipes his arse."

Billowing smoke.

A cigarette stubbed into an ashtray.

See this movie.

Now!


"Pushwagner" is playing Thu, May 3 9:15 PM at Cumberland 2 and Fri, May 4 11:30 PM at Bloor Hot Docs Cinema during the Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival 2012. To get tickets, visit the Hot Docs website HERE.



Thứ Năm, 3 tháng 5, 2012

BIG BOYS GONE BANANAS!* - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Hot Docs 2012 MUST-SEE #14


Big Boys Gone Bananas!* (2012) dir. Fredrik Gertten ****

Review By Greg Klymkiw

In the summer of 2009 I became aware of a curious case wherein Fredrik Gertten, a documentary filmmaker from Sweden (along with his producing partners) was being sued by the Dole corporate fruit bats and that the Los Angeles Film Festival had yanked his film Bananas*! out of official competition and relegated it to a special screening.

The internet media coverage I read - even at the time - seemed slanted against the filmmaker and his expose of Dole's exploitation of fruit workers in Nicaragua. Sounded to me like the Dreaded Dole Dandies were irresponsibly and knowingly using pesticides that caused sterility in numerous men working the fields.

My response to this was typical - of me! I scoured the cupboards to see if there were any cans or packages with the Dole label. Thank Christ, there were none - nor were there any fresh fruits in the fridge.

I hate throwing out food, but I would have anyway. From that day on, I have never purchased anything with Dole's name attached to it. Without knowing more than the seemingly spurious accounts in the articles about the lawsuit, I sided with the filmmaker - AGAINST Dole.

They're a corporation, after all. A multi-national corporation at that. I simply have no use for such entities. As far as I'm concerned, they're all criminals - organized criminals.

What sickened me even more than the attack by Dole upon an artist's God-Given right to free speech was the appalling behaviour of the Los Angeles Film Festival (LAFF). A film festival - no matter how big, small or (in the case of the LAFF) inconsequential - has a duty to ALWAYS support artists. End of story. No arguments allowed. Anyone who disagrees can crawl back into whatever pro-censorship-anti-free-speech slime pit of fascism they crawled out of. Hopefully, I won't see you in Hell as I had to renounce Satan at my Godson Illya's christening some time ago.

So, I finally saw Bananas*! two weeks ago. It's a powerful, shocking and moving film about Dole's corporate irresponsibility to its own workers. (I'll review the film under separate cover here at KFC soon.) A few days later, I watched Gertten's new picture, Big Boys Gone Bananas!* and I am so happy he made this film.

From a personal standpoint, it says and exposes the truth behind everything I believe in about American (and by extension, Canadian) imperialist corporate culture - how most governments, politicians and bureaucrats are mere pawns and puppets in "democracies" that are little more than corporate-owned totalitarian states.

That mainstream media is becoming increasingly useless.

That the notion that free speech exists is drastically diminishing.

And last, but not least, the idiotic hoops a filmmaker must go through to protect themselves from nuisance suits launched by corporate scumbags.

All of this is simply beyond the pale.

Once he was slapped with a huge lawsuit from Dole, Gertten wisely began to document his struggle on film. What he captures is borderline surreal.

He and his co-producers go into research/confab mode immediately, but are also plunged into the nightmare of the LAFF threatening not to show the film. Dole, not only brought suit against Gertten and partners, but sent their claims to the festival itself and all of its corporate sponsors. (Many of these sponsors are a Who's Who of entertainment and media power brokers - shame on all of them for not lifting a finger.)

Every single newspaper of record began running huge articles about the lawsuit - slanting everything on the side of Dole, basically reprinting Dole's press releases and most egregiously, not bothering to check sources. They were bought and paid for, no doubt.

The LAFF did the most cowardly thing of all. At first they tried to appease Dole and came up with some solutions/options for Gertten which you really need to see the film to discover. You won't believe it if you just see it here in black and white. The festival's suggested appeasements all side with Dole and essentially would force Gertten to go against everything artistic expression stands for.

When the moronic suggestions were rightly rejected, the festival pulled the movie from official competition, shoved it into a cinema far out of the festival zone and planned to read a statement regarding their cowardly stand prior to the screening.

On the night of the screening, Gertten is introduced by Dawn Hudson (who is now the CEO of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences - AMPAS - which, should speak volumes already, and if it doesn't, there's no hope for you) then-director of the festival. She invites him to take the stage. He approaches and she motions for him to speak. He balks. He's been promised that she'll read the cowardly statement before his speech to the audience. She feigns surprise, but finally gives in and reads the statement. (Do any of these cowards have any self-respect?)

She uses the word "fraudulent" to describe the film's primary subject (even though she admits this same subject is fighting this with the bar association and criminal prosecutors). Though carefully worded so that she, nor the festival are overtly questioning Gertten's credibility, it's clearly slanted to put notions in the minds of the audience that the film they're about to watch is a potential crock.

The cowardly words she mouth-pieces are:

"We are not eager to be sued. Nor, given what we know, do we believe that BANANAS!* - in its present form - presents a fair or accurate portrait. . ."

Darling Dawn, all you REALLY know is that this complex case is not over yet and that a multinational corporation is threatening to sue everyone's ass to protect its own rectal opening.

Her final words to the audience are the biggest spoonful of bull-feces-laden-sugar to help the medicine of the cowardly go down:

". . . we are showing this film - out of competition - as a case study, to illuminate a timely exploration of what makes (and doesn’t make) a responsible documentary."

Give me a break.

I hope Dawn Hudson is enjoying her plum job with the Academy Awards geezers. Checking out her woeful acting credits on the IMDB suggests she shifted her thespian abilities to being a shill for the interests of the Status Quo.

What follows in the film is like some kind of Kafka nightmare through the eyes of a David Lynchian dreamscape. It's unbelievably cruel, nasty and terrifying. Sometimes it's so absurd, you want to laugh. Can this really happen in a democratic society? Well, considering democracy is dead - at least in North America - the answer would be a resounding, "Yes!" Deep pockets usually equals justice.

Ultimately, to see an artist go through the legal torture inflicted upon him by Dole (and everyone on their payroll) is as stomach-turning as it is anger-inducing.

His producer, for example, gets an anonymous letter suggesting she disavow herself from Gertten and the film. It even strongly implies that "money will flow" to her future productions if she does so (also implying, she's finished if she doesn't).

Dole hires a public relations firm to contact every major journalist in the world (including a whole bunch of them in Sweden), promising one-on-one access to the Dole side of the story.

News item upon news item in every media known to man flings mud upon Gertten and places Dole on a pedestal.

People close to Gertten feel like they're under constant surveillance.

Canadian Co-producer Bart Simpson laments that even in Canada, artists would never receive the kind of media and government support Gerrten received in his home country - against Dole. As a Canadian, I can only agree.

A supposed advocate for free speech compares Gertten's expose of Dole to the most horrendous piece of Nazi propaganda, The Eternal Jew.

Bloggers, forum posters - obviously Dole plants - were writing the most damning things about Gertten and his film.

Even when things seem to be turning in his favour, Gertten has more battles to fight.

Gertten never backs down.

By the end of the film, though, I do wonder how many other artists would bother to persevere in similar circumstances? What Hell the film drags us through is disheartening - even though Gertten's first movie, after years of struggle - can now be seen.

As a filmmaker, I thoroughly commiserated with Mr. Gertten. Years earlier I'd gone through a not dissimilar nightmare over a controversial work I produced and co-wrote. My experience, while horrendous at the time, seems now like kid-stuff compared to the horrors Gertten went through.

The bottom line is that when artists are under attack, we are all under attack.

"Big Boys Gone Bananas!*" has only one showing at the Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival 2012. If you miss it, the movie will be released theatrically via Kinosmith. That said, maybe if enough people beg Hot Docs, another screening will be added before the end of the festival. Tickets are available at the Hot Docs website HERE.


Thứ Tư, 2 tháng 5, 2012

Lucky 13 Hump Day - The Greg Klymkiw Handy-Dandy Guide to 13 MUST-SEE films at the 2012 edition of Toronto's HOT DOCS Canadian International Documentary Festival. In alphabetical order, they ARE:

AN AFFAIR OF THE HEART: Director Sylvia Caminer's slick and entertaining tribute to 80s heart-throb Rick Springfield focuses on the fans who adore him and the unique relationship he has with them. FULL REVIEW HERE

DETROPIA:Rachel Grady/Heidi Ewing's (Jesus Camp) probing, provocative portrait of urban blight. Amidst crime, poverty and decay, there's still a pulse and heartbeat of something very cool. FULL REVIEW HERE

DRAGAN WENDE - WEST BERLIN: Vuk Maksimovic, a burgeoning cinematographer in Serbia, had, for years, heard tales of his legendary, high-rolling Uncle Dragan in Berlin. Now he was going to get to know him. Armed with two cameras and two trusted colleagues, he has made one of the most original, entertaining and penetrating documentaries about the wild days of pre-and-post communist society. FULL REVIEW HERE

FINDING NORTH: Focusing upon hunger in America, this important, passionate film moves like a shark, attacking its subject with precision and ferocity. Beautifully shot and edited, the craft is very high. We not only get great music from T Bone Burnett and the Civil Wars, but fervent appearances by Tom Colicchio AND Jeff Bridges. FULL REVIEW HERE

HERMAN'S HOUSE: This is an extraordinary film about extraordinary people in a country that has sadly learned nothing since 1776 but the right of might, the power of the dollar and the exploitation of the poor. Here's the Klymkiw Film Corner review of Herman's House: FULL REVIEW HERE

JEFF: It's a testament to the director's ability to work with three fascinating subjects and get the phenomenal footage he wrenches out of them - in spite of the unwelcome and unnecessary dramatics recreations, that this film still holds up as the most powerful rendering of the atrociously horrific crimes of Jeffrey Dahmer yet committed to film. FULL REVIEW HERE

THE LEGEND OF A WARRIOR: A personal doc wherein filmmaker Corey Lee reclaims his Chinese roots by training with his Dad, the legendary Frank Pang Lee, a great master of the martial arts who personally trained the equally legendary Billy Chow, the reigning world kickboxing champion through much of the 80s and a stalwart actor in over 50 martial arts pictures. FULL REVIEW HERE

MY NAME IS FAITH: Harrowing doc focuses on a deeply intelligent and beautiful 12-year-old girl, so neglected and abused by her birth mother, that she is stricken with and must battle Attachment Disorder in order to accept love from those who are willing and able to give it. FULL REVIEW HERE

PEACE OUT: This extraordinary picture takes you by surprise and leaves you breathless. As we dive into Charles Wilkinson and Tina Schliessler's vital film about environmental rape to build a new damn (typo intentional), we're eventually party to cinema of the highest order. FULL REVIEW HERE

THE PROPHET: Very similar to Godfrey Reggio's Qatsi trilogy (Koyaanisqatsi, Powaqqatsi, and Naqoyqatsi), as well as Ron Fricke's Baraka, Gary Tarn's film uses music and image to convey Kahlil Gibran's philosophies which, I grudgingly must admit, work perfectly within the context of the contemporary events used. That Gibran's words are delivered with such power by Thandie Newton sure doesn't hurt. FULL REVIEW HERE

THE PUNK SYNDROME: "Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day" is, without question, one of the greatest punk bands of all time. They are the unforgettable subjects of this breathtaking feature documentary that declares: "I demand your immediate attention or you die, motherfucker!" FULL REVIEW HERE

THE QUEEN OF VERSAILLES: If I hadn't know otherwise, I might have thought that Lauren Greenfield's feature documentary was, in fact, an intensely satirical mockumentary on consumer culture in America. It's real, alright! All TOO real. FULL REVIEW HERE

THE WORLD BEFORE HER: What is the future for the young women of modern India? Is it adherence to thousands of years of subservient tradition or finding success through beauty? The chasm between the two couldn't be wider, but we discover in Nisha Pahuja's extraordinary film (recent Best Documentary Winner at the Tribeca Film Festival), the differences are often skin deep as parallel lines clearly exist beneath the surface. FULL REVIEW HERE

Thứ Ba, 1 tháng 5, 2012

PEACE OUT - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Toronto's Hot Docs 2012 Must-See #13


Peace Out (2012) dir. Charles Wilkinson **** Reviewed by Greg Klymkiw

For most of the year I'm happy to say I live off the grid. The decision to choose an alternative to traditional electrical power was, at first, the almighty buck - the savings would be substantial. That solar energy was environmentally preferable to Hydro was the maraschino cherry on the hot fudge sundae of blowing those clowns off the grid. What a great way to say, "Fuck you, Hydro." Peace Out, a film directed by Charles Wilkinson and produced by Tina Schliessler, further opened my eyes to the genuine importance of my decision to go off the traditional energy grid.

This movie is all about energy and the horrible price we all pay for our hog-at-the-trough need for Hydro. The price, let it be said, is not just dollars and cents. The price is the rape of natural resources and the destruction of our environment. And the real need, beyond "our" need, is the need for corporations to do whatever they want to do in order to generate profits.

Wilkinson and Schliessler have rendered a powerful, persuasive and important film that focuses upon the environmental decimation of Canada's northwest. In northern British Columbia, the picture introduces us to the Peace River Valley - an area of (seemingly) pristine wilderness that drains a geographical area larger than most countries in Europe. To the naked eye in most of the area and certainly the picture's numerous stunning shots of the heart-achingly beautiful landscape, it comes as a major head-scratcher and double-take to discover that the industrial development with this northern paradise is not only firmly rooted within the topography, but is, in fact, shockingly vast.

Due to government planning (yes, I know, an oxymoron) and strategic corporate development (the real power, as opposed to either government or the general populace), it had been decided to build a major power dam within the Peace River area which would flood the valley and back up the river by over 80 kilometres (also affecting two other rivers. They'd each be backed up 10 to 20 kilometres).

The picture skillfully draws us into a miasma of academics, corporate lackeys, politicians and just-plain-folk who live in the valley and we're delivered the simple facts that power consumption in the cities to the south is so gluttonous that this new source of energy is a simple, unavoidable necessity.

But at what cost?

Southern British Columbia - particularly Vancouver - is currently powered by the Bennett Dam in Hudson Hope. This monstrosity has created the largest man-made reservoir on the planet. Corporate scumbags with the various energy corporations maintain that this is "clean energy". The reality is that the reservoir is a living desert of toxins.

David Schindler, Professor of Ecology at the University of Alberta emphatically states that reservoirs are not greenhouse-gas-free as many ignorant politicians believe and greedy corporate swine maintain. When flooded terrestrial vegetation starts to decompose, methane-producing bacteria is driven and released into the atmosphere. Methane gas is 20 times more potent than CO2 emissions and the result is mercury entering atmosphere which, in turn is fed back into the fish population - doubling and quadrupling the mercury levels.

This is the fate of the Peace River Valley if this assault upon nature is not stopped. Let's not even mention, though we shall, the fact that Peace River is a world class wildlife habitat which currently allows for natural connectivity between the northern to southern Rocky Mountains which all the animals use in their migration patterns. Flooding the valley will seriously impact the natural ebb and flow of these creatures, and possibly result in their death and/or total extinction from the region.

This is unacceptable. For now, however, the juggernaut of destruction cannot be stopped. We're ultimately the losers if this occurs. The winners will be corporate hogs who suck humanity and nature dry.

And much of this is our fault for requiring so much energy. In fairness to our own gluttony for energy, the film points out how it is indeed technologically possible to reduce energy - it happens all the time. That said, making devices energy efficient inspires a rebound effect wherein a multitude of devices are created to replicate these energy efficiencies in the production and use of more devices that draw even more energy - not to mention the energy required to manufacture them in the first place.

Who benefits? The corporations that design, manufacture and market these goods.

Government and business both maintain there is no choice but to rape the land since the demand for energy is so high amongst the general populace. The citizenry, in turn, refuse to reduce the incremental load requirements through energy efficiency.

One of the horrendous effects of destroying the Peace River Valley is, according to local farmers, the eventual loss of prime farm land to provide future generations of Canadians in British Columbia with food. Currently, most of BC's fruits and vegetables are imported from California and it's a fact that this will dwindle to almost nothing when America itself will face a growth shortage and be taking care of its own needs first.

The supply of food from California is not endless. Instead of destroying the environment, BC should take the lead in terms of self-sufficiency. Alas, one of the woeful statistics the film points out is that 80% of the food for the region used to be grown locally, but is now less than 7%. This is not only appallingly myopic, but there's zero attention paid to the monetary costs of transporting the food and most notably, the environmental costs of said transport.

Natural Gas companies maintain that they have the cleanest energy, but their record of pillaging nature is just as bad, if not worse than hydro electricity.

"It's greed," maintains Roland Wilson, Chief of the West Moberly First Nation. "They're making billions of dollars on oil and gas. They go into third world countries and kill people for the amount of money they're making up here."

Even more annoying is how all the power companies, like government, do little more than finger-point at each other in terms of whose rape of the land results in cleaner energy. Peace Out, ultimately proves this, but does so in a cool, collected and even balanced manner. We get a litany of indiscretions which are defended by the perpetrators.

Fracturing is, for example, a necessary evil in the extraction of natural gas, but requires an insurmountable amount of fresh water to do so. Chief Roland Wilson points how just one gas company will extract 10,000 gallons of water from Peace River. One company out of a multitude who are all doing the same thing.

We meet a local trailer camp owner who is the victim of a water shortage. We see one huge truck after another, barreling along the road outside her camp, all full of water extracted from Peace River. In the meantime, her well has run dry.

Even more staggering is that these for-profit companies are allowed to extract this water for free. The government (such as it is) allows these pigs to slurp up millions upon millions of cubic meters of publicly-owned water and doesn't charge ANYTHING for this. In this area alone there are thousands of natural gas wells using free water. In some cases a mixture of salt water and fresh water are used for fracturing and the corporate mouthpieces insist this is extremely "clean". When the saline escapes into the land, is this truly "clean"?

Our government is allowing corporations a free ride and worse yet, has no stringent regulations in place. The elected-powers-that-be prefer industry self-regulation. This has one academic in the movie laughing. He maintains that self-regulation never works. If someone is driving 120km in a 100km zone, are they going to self-regulate by pulling over and calling the police on themselves to ask for a speeding ticket? Of course not. So why would a corporation, entrusted by law to make profits for its shareholders, self-regulate when it's their job to save money at any and all costs. With no regulations, abuse is inevitable.

There are, of course, government inspectors, but in an area the size of the state of Nebraska, there are 1.2 such watchdogs.

Effective, yes?

Government is so ineffectual in such matters that permits are actually issued to companies for cross purposes in one location. A mining company is allowed to blast its way through rock with explosives in the same vicinity an energy company is extracting natural GAS. Last time I checked, gas and explosives are not a happy combination.

In the case of Peace River, the very remoteness is what contributes to the almost impossible task of promoting awareness and thus allowing, under the cover of being in the middle of nowhere, such intense and irresponsible levels of industrial activity.

And then there are the dirty hippie hypocrites who were children of the 60s - they're the ones who are aware of the risks, but they're also old and want to reap the benefits of their shares in energy companies. It's easy for them to acknowledge, but finally not care whether the environment is messed up. As a stock trader notes, these are the fake lefties who "want a comfortable life and don't care if 100 ducks died in the oil sands - they will not shun things that make money."

Shareholders and corporations think in the present. They have no long range plans save for amassing wealth. Industry itself is always driving up the demand for cheap power sources as they manufacture goods that the public needs to expend energy upon to operate in their ignorant bliss.

Peace Out takes you by surprise and leaves you breathless. At first, the filmmaking seems like rudimentary TV-doc-stuff, but as we dive further into Wilkinson and Schliessler's vital film, we're eventually a party to cinema of the highest order. Clever, subtle juxtapositions, smooth transitions between the beauty of nature, the destruction of the environment, the fluorescent-lit government and/or corporate offices, the dark, almost Gordon Willis styled shots of energy executives and in one case, an utterly heartbreaking montage of energy waste set to Erik Satie's Gymnopedie #1 - all of these exquisitely wrought moments and more, inspire sadness, anger and hopefully enough of these emotions will translate into inspiring action - even, as a Greenpeace interview subject suggests - civil disobedience.

Corporations will do nothing. Government will do nothing. The people have to do the right thing.

Time's a wasting, though. We need to fight for the right to a better world. If not, it's going to die.

Actions, as the film subtly suggests, speak louder than words. Images, as stunningly relayed by the makers of Peace Out, inspire, or can inspire change.

That said, it all begins in our own homes. We need to turn the lights off for a brighter future - to shine as a beacon to our children and their children that we didn't put ourselves first.

We put survival ahead of all.

This film demands to be seen by all Canadians. It demands a wide theatrical release. Demand that every theatre chain devotes (especially the shareholder-happy, Hollywood-knob-gobbling Cineplex Entertainment Corp.) a myriad of screens all over the country to play this film. It is THEIR corporate responsibility to survival. Demand that mainstream private broadcasters - especially those of the CTV ilk - play this film with mega-promotion. Not buried on a Sunday morning, but in primetime. They can pre-empt a hunk of American crap for one night and a rerun or two. And then it needs to be seen on every available home entertainment service imaginable.

And you know what? The film details a situation in Canada, but this is one of many examples of the sort of horrendous practices happening all over the world that are, finally, universal and transcend borders.

See this film. Demand to see this film.

Then do something.

I don't think it's too much to ask.

"Peace Out" is playing in Toronto Tue, May 1 7:15 PM at TIFF Bell Lightbox 4, Thu, May 3 4:15 PM at Cumberland 2 and Sun, May 6 1:00 PM at The ROM Theatre during the 2012 edition of the Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival. For tickets, visit the HOT DOCS website HERE.