By Kevin Lally
FJI correspondent Daniel Steinhart continues his reports from the Toronto International Film Festival.
As the Toronto Film Festival comes to a close, the lackluster acquisition market has perked up a bit with two major buys. Summit Entertainment nabbed domestic distribution rights to Kathryn Bigelow's war film The Hurt Locker. This was another film I missed to recuperate from a cold, but the trades are suggesting that the picture could overcome the public's general lack of interest in Iraq war films by eschewing politics for straight-up action.
The other major acquisition was IFC Films' securing of U.S. rights to Steven Soderbergh's Che, the nearly four-and-a-half-hour biopic of Che Guevara. This is a bold move, especially considering the unpredictable indie market. Plans are to roll out the film for a limited release of the complete picture in December and then distribute the film's two parts separately a month later. Releasing part one, "The Argentine," and part two, "The Guerrilla," makes economic sense, but I think the whole film will suffer as a result. It seems to me that the two parts should be seen back-to-back, as together they form a mirror of distorted reflections, rich with parallels and contrasts. The complete film is also a rare epic moviegoing experience for the modern age, replete with intermission and roadshow overtures that accompany geography lessons on Cuba and Bolivia. This is an unwieldy film and it's hard to make a fair assessment after a single viewing, but let me offer some initial impressions.
It might frustrate some that the film avoids the biopic convention of charting the inspiring rise and fall of a hero. But if you're looking for inspiring Che, watch Gael Garca Bernal shaking hands with lepers in the forgettable The Motorcycle Diaries. Here, Soderbergh and Benicio Del Toro, who plays Che, give us a tenacious and wheezing strategist, who first mounts a successful revolutionary campaign in Cuba (part one) and then an unsuccessful one in Bolivia (part two). Che's political ideology is rarely delivered through rousing speeches, although we do see him going head-to-head with various emissaries at the UN in 1964 via flash-forwards. Instead, his politics come through his commitment to action, the enforcement of discipline amongst the guerrillas, and even in his bedside manner as the good doctor treats both comrades and peasants. This is a film of detail and breadth, which I think partly comes from the versatile camerawork. The film was shot on the much-touted Red One digital camera, and seeing the film projected digitally, audiences got the full effect of the new technology. While the camera may have allowed the filmmakers a great deal of flexibility on location, the images still lack the richness and warmth of 35mm. And on another technical note, part one is presented in 2.35 anamorphic and part two in 1.85. Tech talk aside, this is not one to miss in the theatres, especially if you get to experience the full roadshow treatment.
Certainly, getting to see Che was one of the highlights of the festival for me, but there were many others, including Waltz with Bashir, Hunger, Better Things, Liverpool and Gomorrah. I also enjoyed 24 City, Of Time and the City, Three Monkeys, The Wrestler, Me and Orson Welles, and the Dardenne Brothers' new Le Silence de Lorna, a strong film, but not on par with their previous work. I struggled through Kiyoshi Kurosawa's Tokyo Sonata, but its ending has made me rethink the film and compelled me to want to see it again. It was also a pleasure to see Kelly Reichardt's modest and perceptive Wendy and Lucy while sitting next to Czech filmmaker Bohdan Slma. Sadly, I gave short shrift to Canadian cinema�a typically American move�but was very fond of the one Canuck movie I saw: Bruce McDonald's language-driven zombie film, Pontypool.
Finally, there were two films from two masters that I thoroughly enjoyed: Clair Denis' 35 Rhums, a great film, and Takeshi Kitano's Achilles and the Tortoise, a very good film. I think Denis works like an alchemist, putting an array of elements together�beautiful faces, the perfect song, the trading of glances, a certain gesture, graceful movement�and conjures up something radiant. 35 Rhums, about a tight-knit father and daughter, is beautiful from beginning to end. As for Kitano, he's fallen out of favor with critics because of some missteps, but I think his new film is an inspired piece of work. Achilles and the Tortoise tracks the life of a failed painter and is divided triptych-like into childhood, youth and old age. The film is an amusing meditation on the artistic process and a showcase of Kitano's own painting. I think the movie also demonstrates that the filmmaker is one of the great color stylists working in modern cinema.
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