'Zero Dark Thirty' is ambiguous about torture. It would have been a bad movie if it wasn't.

Just as Zero Dark Thirty is accruing awards, controversy is also accelerating over the movie's depiction of torture. New York Magazine's David Edelstein has voiced unease over the torture scenes, saying in his review "As a moral statement, Zero Dark Thirty is borderline fascistic. As a piece of cinema, it’s phenomenally gripping—an unholy masterwork." I'm with Edelstein on the "masterwork" part, but I disagree completely about the "fascistic" part. Zero Dark Thirty is carefully neutral about torture. I went into the screening against torture, and I came out against it. I think it's also possible to
go into the movie approving of torture, and come out also approving of torture. It's the movie's lack of evangelism for the anti-torture standpoint that has people getting nervous. When really, that's what makes director Kathryn Bigelow' and screenwriter Mark Boal's follow-up to The Hurt Locker so great.

Compare Zero Dark Thirty to the upcoming release of Promised Land, a love letter to liberal concerns over drilling for natural gas. The filmmakers are clearly against drilling, and though they try to present other opinions, those positions are only really used as more evidence to support their stance. It's baby food for liberals: bland, unchallenging, guaranteed to be safe going down. Imagine if Zero Dark Thirty had taken this approach, using the movie not to document the hunt for Bin Laden but as an indictment of torture. The entire feel of the movie would be different, and the audience would be guided into being a critic, not an observer.

I found plenty in Zero Dark Thirty to support my anti-torture position. The sequences themselves are brutal, both for the victims and those that are reduced to their basest levels by inflicting violence onto another person. The "big lead" does not come from torture but from its aftermath. CIA agent Maya (Jessica Chastain) and her colleague (Jason Clarke) trick someone into thinking he has already confessed information under duress. He confirms what they say while gorging himself on hummus. Sure, some may think that the kindness method would only work after cruelty, but I'm not one of them.

Besides torture, there are other things that are startling about the raid on Bin Laden. How they call someone's name and shoot him when he turns to respond. The way one of the wives is killed. The fact that I didn't like the way many of the characters acted makes Zero Dark Thirty feel less like a movie and more like the "docudrama" some are calling journalist-turned-screenwriter Mark Boal's take. These are unpleasant truths. America tortured. In a raid, there is no time for those movie-style hesitations, where a character looks the other in the eye for long moment before pulling the trigger, perhaps accompanied by a speech. The things that make us feel better about right and wrong, the good guys and the bad guys. Zero Dark Thirty shows us another reality, and challenges us in our reaction. Do the ends justify the means? People are coming away with the movie with different answers to that question, a sign that Bigelow and Boal have done their job.

Toronto wrap: The rest of the best

It was, in all, an exciting TIFF 2012. As always the near-300 features plus documentaries and press events made it impossible for any single journalist to deliver a definitive evaluation; in effect, every critic attends his/her own TIFF. Congrats to the organizers for keeping all the moving parts of this sprawling sprocket opera in play. One caveat: that overloaded first weekend of buzzy films skedded at the same hour makes the critics gaga; why not spread the must-sees into the week? And this year, especially if you were attending public screenings, the venues seemed especially far-flung, requiring either the stamina of an Iron Man or deep pockets for outrageous cab fares.

 

At edition 2012 the drumbeat surrounding “The Master” all but drowned out the competition. Still, I discovered two superb, if relatively un-buzzed dramas. Also featuring Philip Seymour Hoffman, “A Late Quartet” is a first feature from American-Israeli Yaron Zilberman that explores the upheaval in a world-class string quartet when one of its members falls victim to a degenerative
disease. Though the screenplay initially feels over-determined, the story-power is cumulative in this moving, immersive work about the passion to carry forward a musical heritage. It's rare to see a film about the dedication of artists explored with such insight. And after his lunatic turn in “Seven Psychopaths” by Martin McDonagh, it was fun to see Christopher Walken morphed into a cellist and the moral keystone of the quartet. Mark Ivanovir shines as a high-strung (sorry) first violinist in love with Hoffman's musician daughter (Imogene Poots) -- which undercuts the quartet's survival -- and the cast has been expertly coached in how to make like they're making music.

 

“At Any Price,” toplined by Dennis Quaid and Zac Efron, marks a striking departure for Rahmin Bahrani (“Man Push Cart”). The filmmaker sets his riveting drama of a father and son in the Iowa agri world, where in the interest of profits farmers do un-kosher things to the genetically engineered seeds that are probably already poisoning us all. Quaid is heartbreaking as an earnest seed salesman pushed to dubious choices by the need to expand his business in order to survive; while Efron – credible and charismatic in his new indie roles – unleashes a brooding intensity as
Quaid's hothead son. With its shocking ending – all the more disturbing for being muted -- “Price” belongs to a category of films that uses drama to reference issues in the larger culture.

 

Another film infused with matters of conscience and politics is “The Company You Keep” directed by and starring Robert Redford, Susan Sarandon, and Shia LaBeouf. (And what's with this guy's name? For the record, the correct French spelling is boeuf, and the noun is masculine.) It's worth noting that both “Price” and “Company” are distributed by Sony Pictures Classics, also presenting “No,” a politically-themed film about the Pinochet era; and “The Gatekeepers,” the Israeli docu that unlocks the inner workings of the Shin Bet. I never cease to admire how the guys at SPC adroitly combine the entertainment imperative with films that extend their reach beyond navel-gazing or Kate Middleton going topless on the beach (not that that isn't a prime piece of gossip).

 

In “Company” Redford plays a small town lawyer whose life is up-ended when a long-ago member of the Weather Underground who has lived incognito (Susan Sarandon) is arrested and charged with murder during a long-ago anti-war protest in the 60's. To clear his own name, Redford must hunt down a radical friend from the past (Julie Christie, lookin' good) to confirm publicly that he himself was not involved in the shooting of a guard. The median age of these actors is roughly seventy and it's initially shocking to see how time has worked its dirty tricks on Redford (why do the female actors fare better)? But eclipsing such concerns is Redford's seasoned rendering of a man of conscience who has moved on in his life, while refusing to renounce his anti-war sentiments of the past.

 

Directed by Scott McGehee and David Siegel, the quietly lacerating “What Maisie Knew” credibly transplants the novel by Henry James to modern-day New York. It's the story of a six-year-old girl (a remarkable Onata Aprile) whip-sawed between two supremely unfit parents (Julianne Moore
and Steve Coogan) as they play musical chairs with new mates. After Coogan weds the babysittter, Moore marries on the quick an amiable bartender (Alexander Skarsgard) to give the impression of stability and ensure custody. But when it comes to school pick-ups and overnights, the child is shockingly shuttled about in a way that will make any parent cringe. Through it all, Maisie, preternaturally wise, keeps an even keel and gravitates toward what love she finds.

 

Set in 18^th century Denmark, “A Royal Affair” by Nikolaj Arcel recreates the real-life story of a German doctor (Mads Mikkelsen) who cuts a swathe through the Danish court when he becomes the caretaker of mad King Christian (a brilliant Mikel Boe Folsgaard), lover to the queen (Alicia Vikander), and de facto head of state intent on implementing the ideas of the Enlightenment. The film combines epic sweep, history, and fascinating court intrigue – and the revelation of Folsgaard, a rising star to watch.

 

And now for my list of Best, Worst, and Most Notable from TIFF 2012.

 

Best headline of the fest: from critic Alonso Duralde, “'The Master' … Is Just Running on Cruise Control.”

 

Most reprehensible comment of the fest: Nick Cassavetes on Incest: “Who Gives a Damn? Love Who You Want”

 

Most memorable sight on King Street: pregnant woman in a tight sheath looking like a python that had swallowed a warthog

 

Worst moment of the fest: Saturday A.M., a hike from my hotel in torrential downpour, and the six flight escalator at the Scotia Bank theater is broken

 

Most pissed-off moment: getting shut out of Harmony Korine's “Spring Breakers” and told we should have lined up an hour and l/2 before

 

Most outrageous moment: dude loudly talking on his cell during a press and industry screening

 

Oscar-bait turns: Philip Seymour Hoffman and Joaquin Phoenix in “The Master,” Dennis Quaid in “At Any Price” – though I'd vote for Danish Mikkel Boe Folsgaard in “A Royal Affair.”

 

Most delicious, against-type turn: Nicole Kidman, hilarious as a 70's trash queen in “The Paperboy”

 

Hottest actors: the trifecta of Ryan Gosling, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Mads Mikkelsen

 

Swankiest parties that were deprived of my presence because I wasn't invited: anything at Soho House

 

Priciest cab fare: rush-hour ride to the Hazelton Hotel in Yorkville -- and thank you, kind cabbie, for putting me on to trolleys!

 

Worst tech glitches: the roaming on my Android that didn't work – thanks for the memories, Verizon! The laptop that froze mid-post

 

Biggest regret: all the doggone films I didn't get to see 

Advance buzz: '(500) Days of Summer'

By Sarah Sluis

Yesterday I saw (500) Days of Summer, the Sundance sensation that's already captivated bloggers and prompted people to count their calendars down to its July 17th release. The sweet, self-aware film--the screenwriters call it "postmodern"--can come off as smug or earnest, though I lean towards the latter interpretation. Fox Searchlight picked up the film, a sure sign that it will follow in the footsteps of the studio's other indie successes, Garden State, Juno, and Little Miss Sunshine.

The movie opens by telling us it's not a love story, even though, well, it kind of is. Tonally, the best comparison is Annie Hall: it's telling you a love story that won't have a happy ending, but somehow makes you leave the theatre thinking about the lobster pot-like moments in the movie, not the break-up.

(500) Days of Summer is incredibly playful stylistically. The morning after Tom's first night with Summer, for example, he checks himself out in the car window and sees Harrison Ford in Star Wars. Everyone moves to his beat, and the scene eventually turns into a dance sequence, and a straight-from-Disney animated bluebird flies through the foreground. So how is this not obnoxious? The sequence seems to come from Tom's subjective point-of-view. He's sentimental, he works for a greeting card company, so it makes sense that he would have these fantasies. Music-video director Mark Webb does a great job keeping the style in check. He avoids hard shifts to fantasy sequences, the kind where the character looks around to see an empty park where a legion of dancers were a moment before, but keeps them slighly loose and open: fun "what ifs" that allow you to share Tom's excitement. Another particularly effective device was a split-screen sequence of Tom attending a party hosted by Summer. The left-hand side shows "Expectations," the right-hand side "Reality," and for a couple minutes we see the scene evolve in different directions. It's a playful style that comes straight from music-videos, but used sparingly, effectively conveys Tom's disappointment. Tom even interacts with the soundtrack. He explains, as "She's Like the Wind" swells in the soundtrack, that he just can't help feeling the music. To me, the style and reflexivity work because Webb is careful to tie each use to Tom's emotions, instead of going willy-nilly just because something would look cool.

With an original, challenging screenplay by Michael Weber and Scott Neustadter, and expert direction by first-timer Webb, (500) Days of Summer is going to be the kind of film people love to love, to the point where I wouldn't be surprised to see one of those Garden State-like backlashes where some get annoyed with the film's self-aware cleverness. It's definitely a film that people will want to talk about afterward, and if the reaction is like the standing ovation the film received at Sundance, it looks like it's going to be a particularly happy summer for Fox Searchlight, which is already on a winning streak with Slumdog Millionaire.