TIFF Digest: Part 7
We Live in Time
An up-and-coming chef and a recent divorcée find their lives forever changed when a chance encounter brings them together, in a decade-spanning, deeply moving romance.
I like my romantic dramedies like I like my eggs: scrambled. Though I imagine some prefer to have this genre of movie served over easy or sunny side up (wow, that egg bit ran out of steam quickly), I believe the power of We Live in Time is its nonlinear storytelling structure and the undeniable chemistry between it's two lead performers. The film is directed by John Crowley of Brooklyn fame and stars Florence Pugh and Andrew Garfield, both of whom are mega-famous and incredible actors. It seems pretty rare to have such a high pedigree of talent tied to this sort of material — we live in (a) time where D-level rom coms are as regularly available on streaming services as new seasons of Love Is Blind. But what really helps Crowley's film stand head and shoulders above the majority of other heart-string plucking movies you might have seen recently is that it isn't relying on what some have described as "cheap emotional manipulation." I think that undersells what is going on in Nick Payne's imaginative screenplay. We Live in Time explores how our memories are often disorganized and fragmented, how we often forget the order in which things happen in our lives, and how we can remember and cherish the small but specific details of those big happenings. The film is carefully structured so that certain stories feel serendipitous in retrospect and its characters setbacks might sting more because of what has already happened. Doesn't that feel true to life? I applaud the the structure of Payne's screenplay, not because it is without flaw but because it is full of them. Even if some critics find the script to be a bit thin, I think there are some serious screenwriting flexes in the way the breadcrumbs are laid out for future payoffs that is being underappreciated. As for Pugh and Garfield, I don't think I have much to say; this is a mighty two-hander, a case where where two A-listers brought their A-game. You can keep your bland and over-cooked romantic dramedies. I'll take mine messy and scrambled with a side of extra crispy hashbrowns please.
K-Pops!
A washed-up musician travels to Korea to write for K-pop stars, discovering that his long-lost son is set to front one of the country’s hottest new groups. He then jumps at the opportunity to capitalize on his son’s stardom for his own renaissance, but learns that fatherhood is much more fulfilling and meaningful than stardom.
Anderson .Paak is a Grammy-award-winning singer, rapper, and record producer, a jack-of-all-trades with limitless talent who can excel at almost anything he sets his mind to. Oft-referred to as a musical polymath, Paak is an artist full of ambition who is confident enough in his skills and know-how to bend and blend things to his will in service to whatever project he's working on at the time. His artistic sensibilities and creative instincts make him a performer to never underestimate, and he's someone who can call the shots even when he's in the room with someone as freakishly talented à la Bruno Mars or Kendrick Lamar. There seems to be an overlap with these kind of traits and those of a filmmaker, does there not? His directorial debut feature film, K-Pops is a family comedy that seems to know what it's trying to say but has a hard time communicating those ideas effectively. The film is a bit choppy and messy the same way many debut features are choppy and messy, so that isn't really the issue. While it would be callous and rather uncharitable of me to describe this film as something of a vanity project, I might describe K-Pops is a labor of love that feels a bit belabored. The funny bits might have just tried too hard to be funny, the heartfelt moments might have just tried too hard to be heartfelt, and any of it's more nuanced ideas might have just been overshadowed by the bigger and louder elements of the film. As a performer, Paak knows just how to put himself in a position to succeed and win over his audience — as a director, he could use a few more reps. Still, K-Pops is a fun time overall that somehow manages to work too hard and too little at the same time.
The Quiet Ones
In 2008, a group of men from Denmark and across Europe pull off the biggest heist of all time on Danish soil. Kasper, a boxer with few chances left in life, is offered the opportunity to plan the robbery by its foreign initiators.
At my core, I wouldn't describe myself as the kind of person who headbangs to metal, looks or acts like a badass, or could make a living working as a contributor to a highly-skilled crime synidcate. In fact, I'm absolutely confident I'm not that person (I spend my free time going to movies and blogging, of course I'm not that person). However, I do have an itch for the sort of detailed and edgy heist thriller that is focused on the process of crime as much as the potential consequences. The Quiet Ones, directed by Frederik Louis Hviid, is inspired by a true-to-life crime that took place in 2008 and was the biggest heist in the history of Denmark. The film shares a similar affinity for the meticulousness required if you want to pull off this sort of high-stakes job reminiscent of what Michael Mann was so expertly communicated in his neo-noir heist film, Thief. Like Mann, Hviid does well to spell out the sort of rigorous professionalism that is required of its perpetrators in this line of work. Every single element of the planning and execution has to be perfect without fail. Kasper, played by the rugged Gustav Giese is the film's center of gravity, and he handles his leading role with emotional legibility that kept me invested in how things would turn out at the end. It is worth pointing out that the film is extremely masculine, almost to a fault. However, there are enough storytelling turns to keep things interesting, even if some of those choices are perhaps a bit on the nose and predictable (I'll show some restraint and let you find out for yourself). What makes The Quiet Ones a story worth telling is, well the story — it seems almost too unbelievable to believe. But what ultimately makes The Quiet Ones a movie worth watching is how convincingly it's characters plan and execute that plan to an exacting degree.
The Return
After twenty years away, Odysseus washes up on the shores of Ithaca, haggard and unrecognizable. The king has finally returned home, but much has changed in his kingdom since he left to fight in the Trojan war.
27 years after The English Patient was released and went on to win Best Picture at the Academy Awards, its two stars Juliette Binoche and Ralph Fiennes, reunite on the big screen as co-leads in Uberto Pasolini's The Return. The film, adapted by Edward Bond, John Collee and Pasolini is a retelling of Homer's Odyssey, which in case you're confused is indeed THE Odyssey, aka one of the oldest works of literature and one of just two major ancient Greek epic poems attributed to Homer (the other being of course, the Illiad). The story of The Return, as I understand it, takes place after the Trojan War when Odysseus (Fiennes) returns home to Ithaca after 20 years (and by returns I mean washes ashore because our dude is spent). Odysseus soon finds that things have gone downhill during his time away and his family is burdened with the restlessness that comes with a lack of authority and stability on the island. His wife Penelope (Binoche), though confident Odysseus will return, is buying time despite her safety being in jeopardy. Odysseus may be broken man, but there is still time to make things right (I'm not sure why I just walked through the skeleton of the plot like that, I kind of made it sound like a cheesy 80's action movie). I don't think I need to go into more details, since this is a film that is focused on the intimacies that come with big picture storytelling. My biggest knock against The Return is also my biggest point of praise: the film is unflinchingly gritty and dour by design. We're so accustomed to some sugar to help the medicine go down when it comes to these kind of movies that it is almost disorienting when the tone is this muted. This is a stripped down rendering of Homer's story, one where the vibes have to feel right if you want the audience to get transported back in time. While I wouldn't say I had a good ol' time watching it as a means for entertainment, the craft was immersive and the storytelling was certainly effective. By casting Fiennes and Binoche, Pasolini pairs together two performers who ground the film thanks to their innate chemistry; they can do a lot with a little while still keeping things simple.
