Showing posts with label 1999. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1999. Show all posts

Sunday, 6 October 2013

10 Terrific Space Movies to see instead of GRAVITY or 10 Reasons NOT to see GRAVITY - By Greg Klymkiw

There's really no need to see this movie!
October 4, 2013 saw the release of Gravity, a dull, predictable, badly written and clearly expensive space thriller which opened wide on several thousand screens in uselessly annoying 3-D. It has already amassed a ludicrously high "Fresh" rating on Rotten Tomatoes and this highly touted trifle will be a huge hit. To the former, most critics aren't real critics and the real critics who've ejaculated on the film are probably so depressed over all the crap they have to see that Gravity did indeed feel special to them. The reality is this - it's really not very good. There exist, however, a clutch space travel movies that offer far more than what's on display in Alfonso Cuarón's trifle of a picture. Buy, rent, VOD or if, God willing, they're in rep somewhere, see them as they're meant to be seen. Any of these suckers deliver the real thing rather than wimpy, weepy eye candy. The most recent and obvious choice for this list is Europa Report, the phenomenal picture from this very same year that's received virtually no release of any consequence.
SEE IT! NOW!
Europa Report (2013) ****
Dir. Sebastián Cordero
Starring: Anamaria Marinca, Daniel Wu, Karolina Wydra, Michael Nyqvist, Sharlto Copley, Christian Camargo, Embeth Davidtz, Dan Fogler, Isiah Whitlock Jr.

Easily one of the best science fiction films I've seen in years. It had me charged with excitement from beginning to end. A private corporation launches a historic manned flight to Jupiter's Moon of Europa, a huge orb covered completely with ice and most probably having one of the likelier possibilities of life in our solar system due the presence of water. An international crew of six astronauts are onboard for the mission and director Sebastián Cordero astonishingly covers every key detail of the trip via an insane number of POVs from the cameras set up by the corporation. Europa is, of course, fraught with danger and the filmmakers work overtime to keep us on the edge of our seats. What drives the film is the potential to discover life - it might be simple or complex, benevolent or dangerous, but there will be life. And it will be awe-inspiring.

Here are more top picks for space travel movies (in alphabetical order):

SEE IT! NOW!

2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) *****
Dir. Stanley Kubrick
Starring Keir Dullea, Gary Lockwood, Douglas Rain

This is truly the greatest of them all. A collaboration between Arthur C. Clarke and Stanley Kubrick, this monumental picture is still ahead of its time and delivers what feels like the closest approximation of what it must be like to travel in space. Spanning the Dawn of Man through to a deep space journey to Jupiter, Kubrick takes all the time he needs to lavish attention over the simplest, though most gorgeous elements of space travel. In addition to the dazzling opening involving prehistoric man, we occasionally meet up with mysterious ancient alien monoliths which inspire continued leaps in mankind's evolution (or devolution) and its ability to traverse the universe in traditional spacecraft and by more spiritual means. 2001 is partially a muted thriller involving the famous robot HAL who attempts to murder the entire crew to carry on a mysterious mission into the netherworld of deep space. On the other side of the coin, it's a glorious head film that inspires audiences to accept the purely experiential aspects of Kubrick's visual genius - whether one chooses to see it stoned or straight. It also proves that 3D is completely unnecessary. In fact, it proves that 2-D is, in the hands of a real artist - multi-dimensional. I'm happy to say that my first few helpings of the film were as a kid in an old National General Cinerama theatre with the huge, deep, curved screen. Take that, IMAX!!!!!

SEE IT! NOW!
Armageddon (1998) ****
Dir. Michael Bay
Starring: Bruce Willis, Ben Affleck, Billy Bob Thornton, Liv Tyler, Owen Wilson, Will Patton, Peter Stormare, William Fichtner, Michael Clarke Duncan, Steve Buscemi

Pure roller coaster ride, but what a ride! A huge all-star cast propels this taut disaster epic wherein a team of pure testosterone blasts into outer space to drill into the core of a mighty asteroid hurtling towards Earth and to nuke the bugger to kingdom come before life as we know it ceases to exist. Visceral thrills of the highest order and loaded with plenty of true grit and heart. Critics crap on this, but audiences knew and still know the score. The movie rocks big-time!

SEE IT! NOW!
Journey to the Far Side of the Sun AKA Doppelgänger (1969) ***1/2
Dir. Robert Parrish
Starring: Roy Thinnes, Ian Hendry, Lynn Loring, Patrick Wymark

Moody and creepy space thriller from Britain's Gerry Anderson and Co. doing their first live-action feature after a successful canon of animated sci-fi TV shows like Thunderbirds which used marionettes in place of actors. No puppets here, though. Two terrific, underrated character actors play a pair astronauts who discover a planet in an identical orbital position to that of Earth located directly on the opposite side of the Sun. Well written and very strange. It certainly pre-dates the notion of parallel universe and is as fascinating now as it was in the 60s.

SEE IT! NOW!
Marooned (1969) ***1/2
dir. John Sturges
Starring: Gregory Peck, David Janssen, Richard Crenna, James Franciscus, Gene Hackman

Cool optical effects (as opposed to antiseptic digital F/X) rule the day in this genuinely suspenseful sci-fi melodrama involving a ship with major mechanical failures that's trapped in outer space. Three astronauts are sardine-tinned in the ship while mission control does what it can to bring the boys home and the wives weep and fret down below (as good wives should do). Though the movie inexplicably errs on a number of key technical elements of space travel, it gets far more of them absolutely dead-on. The film's release pre-dated the somewhat similar disaster that befell Apollo 13 and was spectacularly presented in 70mm, 6-track sound (which, Thank Christ, I had the joy of seeing a few times as a kid). The movie even inspired the Apollo-Soyuz Test Project in 1975 which was a result of the Apollo 13 disaster. Kick-ass manly-man director John Sturges (The Great Escape, The Magnificent Seven, Bad Day at Black Rock) handled the claustrophobic action brilliantly and a good deal of the picture is genuinely nail-biting. The performances are first-rate, but it's Gene Hackman who steals the show as a space flyer who starts to crack-up big-time. There's also absolutely no musical score. The interior soundscapes within the ship, and back on Earth works just fine, but one does have to ignore the exterior sound in zero gravity since it doesn't exist out there.

SEE IT! NOW!
Moon (2009) ****
dir. Duncan Bell
Starring: Sam Rockwell, Kevin Spacey

Space is thrilling, exciting and full of adventure, but when you get right down to it, the whole experience has got to be extremely creepy and Duncan Bell exploits this notion to terrifying effect as Sam Rockwell plays the sole human being presiding over a mining project on the dark side of Earth's Moon. His only companion is the Über-Creepy GERTY the robot (Kevin Spacey's voice, 'natch!). Shit is slowly hitting the fan and the entire movie plunges into nightmare territory.


SEE IT! NOW!
The Right Stuff (1983) *****
dir. Philip Kaufman
Starring: Fred Ward, Dennis Quaid, Ed Harris, Scott Glenn, Sam Shepard, Barbara Hershey, Lance Henriksen, Veronica Cartwright, Jeff Goldblum, Kim Stanley, Levon Helm

One of America's greatest living directors crafted one of America's greatest motion pictures about outer space. Based upon Tom Wolfe's book, Kaufman plunged us into a gorgeous, thrilling, supremely entertaining and utterly fascinating look at the history of modern space flight - telling the story of test pilot Chuck Yeager and the seven brave men who were part of America's Mercury space program. Every aspect of this film is pure perfection and it's not only infused with epic sweep, but it's deliriously romantic. One of a handful of genuinely great motion pictures from the otherwise horrendous decade of the 80s.

SEE IT! NOW!
Silent Running (1975) ***1/2
dir. Douglas Trumbull
Starring: Bruce Dern

A huge convoy of spaceships loaded with plant life floats amongst the stars to regenerate what's been lost to pollution on Earth. When Mission Control decides to abort the mission due to funding and general lack of interest in environmental concerns, Botanist Bruce Dern goes insane ('Natch!), murders the whole crew and jettisons in the netherworld to preserve the plant life. The whole movie is pretty much Bruce Dern, two drones he names Huey and Dewey, Joan Baez singing about flowers, trees, birds and bees (gotta love the 70s) and endless shots of whole forests under huge domes in outer space. You kind of need to ignore the fact that the Earth apparently has NO plant life at all, yet appears to be perfectly functioning. Just imagine that the interplanetary greenhouses are to build up plant life on the verge of extinction - or something - because it's a pretty damn fine movie in all other respects from F/X whiz Trumbull (2001).

SEE IT! NOW!
Solaris (1972) *****
dir. Andrei Tarkovsky
Starring: Natalya Bondarchuk, Donatas Banionis, Anatoli Solonitsyn, Sos Sargsyan, Vladislav Dvorzhetsky

From one of the great masters of Russian Cinema, you'll not see a space travel movie quite like it - steeped in sorrow, melancholy and a brand of cinematic humanity that could only have been achieved by Andrei Tarkovsky. A psychologist travels into deep space to investigate the mental health of a crew on an interstellar station perched above the planet Solaris - comprised of no known land mass and seemingly an orb of pure ocean. The crew has stopped communicating with each other. When our head doctor arrives, the space station is a complete disaster area, the crew of two ignores him, a third crew member has committed suicide prior to his visit, the space station appears to be full of crew members who shouldn't be there (and who don't communicate with anyone) and in the middle of the night, the doc wakes up in his room (which he's barricaded) to find himself in the company of his late wife. Things begin to get strange. Prepare to be alternately creeped out and moved to tears. One of the greatest movies of all time.

SEE IT! NOW!
A Trip To The Moon (1902) *****
dir. Georges Méliès

Scientists blast off to the Moon, its bright side adorned with the face of a man. The rocket lands in the eye of the Moon's face. The scientists are assailed by grotesque moon creatures. They're pretty easy to kill, but eventually they acquire strength in overwhelming numbers and a desperate fight ensues to safely board the ship and return to Earth. 18 minutes of pure movie magic from the great early magician of cinema, Georges Méliès - this film and its creator immortalized in Martin Scorsese's Hugo. Though shot and released primarily in black and white, Méliès generated and presented a limited number of painstakingly hand-coloured prints. They were all said to be lost. One was found and restored - frame by frame. One frame of this film has more magic, imagination and innovation than the entire running time of Gravity and, for that matter, most contemporary movies.



Here is the color restoration of A TRIP TO THE MOON - Please BUY the BLU-RAY - it Kicks Mega-Ass:



Sunday, 7 October 2012

ROSETTA, a masterpiece by the Dardenne Brothers - Reviewed By Greg Klymkiw - Criterion Collection Blu-Ray and DVD

ROSETTA is the shattering portrait of a young girl who will go to any lengths to secure and keep her job in a world where the poor are disposable commodities. Thirteen years after its initial release, the film is as relevant to conditions that continue to plague the world today (and which seem to have no end in sight). It is, without question, a masterpiece, confirming the Dardenne Brothers as the leading cinematic voice of the disenfranchised.
Rosetta (1999) *****
dir. Luc Dardenne, Jean-Pierre Dardenne
Starring: Emilie Dequenne, Fabrizio Rongione, Anne Yernaux, Olivier Gourmet

Review By Greg Klymkiw
"Your name is Rosetta. My name is Rosetta. You found a job. I found a job. You've got a friend. I've got a friend. You have a normal life. I have a normal life. You won't fall in a rut. I won't fall in a rut. Good night. Good night." -- Rosetta (1999)
Rosetta (Emilie Dequenne) doesn't know the meaning of the word "privilege" and worst of all, if she's ever experienced love, it's not even a fleeting memory. It's been erased by years of poverty, abuse and neglect. She's 15-years-old, lives in a squalid trailer park with her slovenly alcoholic mother and holds down a job in a bakery to raise enough money to leave home and live her own life. She works herself to the bone for slave wages. Being underage allows her to be legally exploited by employers.

"Privilege" should, frankly, be a dirty word. Not much of consequence can really come from it and so often it leads to the exploitation and/or abandonment of those bereft of it. If "privilege" was part of her vocabulary, Rosetta would definitely foist it as a salty epithet.

She loses her job at the bakery - not because she isn't a good worker, but because her employer uses his prerogative to indulge in some nepotism to replace her.

She's back to square one. Her Mom is fed copious amounts of booze by the scumbag who runs the trailer park in exchange for sexual favours.

Things are definitely not looking up.

We are, of course, watching a movie by the Dardenne Brothers. And if the subject matter wasn't enough to tip us off, their unique verité approach to cinematic storytelling is the clincher.

The Brothers not only retain the effective point of view they employed in La Promesse, they up the ante bigtime. The camera is ALWAYS with Rosetta, but she's such a bundle of action and forward movement that we are, more often than not, following her (an approach Darren Aronofsky has successfully borrowed - most notably in his exquisite The Wrestler).

Not only is the camera following Rosetta, but very often, it (very intentionally) has a hard time keeping up with her. She's usually and literally a few steps ahead of us. Again and effectively, the Dardennes continue the technique of placing us within the central character's point of view that they so astonishingly handled in La Promesse.

Being just behind her adds tremendously to the realist conceit that allows us to discover the story with her. Curiously, when the camera catches up to her or is in close on the action, it's perched just above the shoulder near her head. It alternately establishes intimacy and urgency.

This consistency to the mise-en-scene is ideal in the telling of a very harrowing story. This is a child who is so desperate to work that she is capable of doing anything and everything to get and/or keep a job. Though one of her actions is borderline nasty, we always empathize with both her plight and actions.

For me, one of the fascinating choices the Dardenne Brothers made is in choosing the name Rosetta for our main character. It's primarily an Italian name given to women and translates as "beautiful rose".

There's no doubting the girl next door beauty of actress Emilie Dequenne (who plays the title character and also won the Best Actress Award at the Cannes Film Festival) and roses, in and of themselves are not only imbued with beauty, but most varieties have prickly stalks that protect them from being easily plucked. A number of varieties have such tight petals that it's virtually impossible to get at the rose hips - if, in fact, any actually exist.

And, of course, Rosetta is very closed off - both inscrutable and impenetrable. When she actually allows someone into her life, we're happy for her, but when she does something to remove this person from her life, we feel deflated (on one hand), but completely understanding (on the other).

Self-preservation does indeed drive her, but it's not the selfish variety displayed by Igor's father in the Dardennes' La Promesse. This is a child who seeks solace in both work and what work provides - a basic living, and one that is going to be sadly solitary, but at least on her own terms.

Rosetta is also another interesting choice for a name since it is a word used to describe a very specific orbit in space - one that seems so similar to how Rosetta moves as a character - especially when in peril or distress.

The Rosetta Orbit is when a particle revolves around the opening to a Black Hole - getting close, but never being completely sucked in. It's as if the orbit is responsible for near-suction and salvation. (If anyone had a Spirograph as a kid, the Rosetta orbit is similar to the sort of movement patterns created when a point in a circle revolves within another at a fixed point.)

When Rosetta is in distress she becomes extremely physical and never stops moving - so much like a Rosetta Orbit, it seems impossible to think this was not an intentional subtext on behalf of the Dardenne Brothers.

Finally, this is what makes the Dardennes so unique in contemporary cinema. Every move, every beat, every breath is infused with intent, but never, ever does it seem like they're overtly forcing the action. Rosetta is our way in and out of this extraordinary and quite perfect film.

It is, however, her indelible character who finally makes all the decisions and we discover them, whether we like them or not, when she does.

Rosetta is, like many of the disenfranchised of our world, ready to plunge into an abyss, but is saved by her clinging onto BASIC hopes and dreams - oscillating in a hypotrochoidal pattern with the Dardenne Brothers clinging to her with their lens. They observe her, almost macroscopically - as if her life, her state of being was a form of quantum mechanical existence.

Is the fate of Rosetta, and all those like her, to oscillate forever, just beyond a Black Hole? The humanity of the Dardenne Brothers and this tremendously moving film suggests otherwise. At least, that's what WE want it to suggest.

"Rosetta" is available in a brand new Director-Approved Special Edition Blu-Ray from the visionary Criterion Collection. It features a sumptuous restored high-def digital transfer that director of photography Alain Marcoen supervised, an interview between film critic Scott Foundas (who, not unlike the disc of "La Promesse", delivers his questions in a manner that feels too rarefied) and the directors Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne (who provide lengthy, informative and frankly, inspiring responses). There's also an interview with actors Emilie Dequenne and Olivier Gourmet, a trailer, a brand new English subtitle translation and an essay by film critic Kent Jones. This one's another Criterion Collection keeper.

Saturday, 14 July 2012

HEATER - Interview with Writer-Director Terrance Odette By Greg Klymkiw - In this second part of my HEATER coverage, I interview the movie's writer-director. Destined for classic status, Terrance Odette's Neo-Realist portrait of the homeless in Winnipeg is being honoured in the TIFF Bell Lightbox Open Vault Series.

The following interview with Terrance Odette is PART TWO of my coverage on the landmark screening of Terrance Odette's HEATER playing at Toronto's TIFF Bell Lightbox in the important Open Vault series July 16 at 6:30pm. For tickets, visit the TIFF website HERE. PART ONE of my HEATER coverage is a review of the film which you can find HERE
Heater (1999)
dir. Terrance Odette
Starring:
Gary Farmer
Stephen Ouimette
Mauralee Austin
Tina Keeper
Blake Taylor
Joyce Krenz
Sharon Bajer
Martine Friesen
Wayne Niklas
Jan Skene
Jonathan Barrett

****
Interview with
Terrance Odette
By Greg Klymkiw


TWO MOVIE GEEKS
ON SARAH POLLEY, SPIDER-MAN, DON SHEBIB
& HEATER
Terrance Odette: Before we get started, I’ve gotta say one thing to you.

Greg Klymkiw: Yeah?

TO: I fuckin’ loved Take This Waltz.

GK: Isn’t it fucking great?

TO: You know, I read [insert interchangeable name of film “critic” here]’s review of Sarah Polley’s film, which said the movie sucked and I heard from people I talked to in the film industry and stuff and it’s like, “Ah, it’s a bit of a disappointment” and all that negative stuff.

GK: Fucking morons!

TO: I enjoyed it way more than her first feature film, Away From Her.

GK: Yeah, and that picture’s certainly no slouch.

TO: Exactly.

GK: Though Take This Waltz is leaps and bounds ahead, it reminded me of Sarah’s stunning short drama I Shout Love. Even at that stage of her directorial career, the short signalled the birth of a world-class director. I was convinced then as I am now, that she's going to continually knock us on our collective butt-cheeks.

TO: I was so proud of Sarah when she made Away From Her, but Take This Waltz is completely in another dimension – especially considering that the first movie had Alice Munro as a starting point while this one is an original script by Sarah, she’s clearly up there with contemporaries like Andrea Arnold, Kelly Reichardt – the new female Turks of contemporary cinema.

GK: Look, it makes sense to me that Sarah would be considered in that specific pantheon, but I almost feel like she’s jumped well over their heads and moved into a completely different stratosphere. She successfully blends working with so many layers, but when you strip them away, you’re left with a very strong narrative arc that supports all her cool shit, including dollops, or at least nods – albeit skewed – to commercial filmmaking.

TO: I’m looking forward to seeing it again, though I’ll have to wait until I get into Toronto. I didn’t get to see it until its second week which is when it ended in my neck of the woods, but come on! The movie did two weeks in Stony Creek.

GK: Two weeks in Stony Creek for anything that isn’t some pile of shit is astounding.

TO: Oh yeah, good on Mongrel Media for pushing this movie so aggressively.

GK: Yeah, that’s a distribution company with real vision – between Hussain Amarshi and Tom Alexander at the helm, I still hold out some hope for the survival of English-Canadian cinema. “Ephemeral” seems to be a dirty word to those guys which, makes complete sense because they got behind a movie like Sarah’s that is going to have a life well beyond its initial theatrical release. In an ephemeral sense, Take This Waltz might not reach the adulatory heights of Away From Her, but it’s so clear that this is the one that IS going to last.

TO: Sarah pushes the edge and it makes me really happy that I can see a movie I love that also teaches me things about the filmmaking process. It’s so sophisticated, so mature.

GK: Unlike, say, The Amazing Spider-Man which, I recently had the misfortune of seeing – a movie made by this guy, Marc Webb, whose major claim to fame is having directed tons and tons of music videos. The picture has no style, no voice and its very competence gives competence a bad name.

TO: Oh, for sure. I just saw it myself, and boy, did that movie suck.

GK: I think it’s the whole music video thing that drove me craziest – all those stupid montages set to mostly crummy music – Ugh!

TO: That can be a real trap for directors who spend too much time making music videos. Music videos have no content but the song itself – they’re all context. Spike Jonze is one of the few who finds content in the context and is finally, a genuine film artist. Most of those guys work with the best technical people and frankly, they’re good technicians themselves. With The Amazing Spider-Man, Webb clearly lucked out having great actors and technicians, but only a real artist could have worked through script holes designed to drive a Mack Truck through. I mean sure, it’s a superhero movie so there’s already a layer of implausibility, but that idiotic scene where Peter Parker gets bitten in the first place isn’t even plausible within the implausible superhero world.

GK: That’s unbelievably stupid. I almost threw in the towel and walked out during that scene. They make such a big deal about the high levels of security in that place and when it’s convenient for the filmmakers, they just waltz Peter right into that room. And even when he’s buggering around with things in there, are we supposed to buy that this isn’t sending the place into total lockdown?

TO: That’s right. And I really felt bad because I went to see it with my daughter yesterday for her birthday and all the way through it I kept rolling my eyes and when it was over, she was excitedly and expectantly asking me what I thought and I’m like, “I really loved the acting.” She’s seeing it again today with a bunch of friends – more of a social thing.

GK: Yeah, that’s what made Titanic or Sex and the City such hits. They’re not movies, they’re social events.

TO: What I don’t get is why someone didn’t notice at a script stage how interesting the villain was and then do everything in their power to get Peter in his Spidey suit and get down to business instead of all that boring walking around.

GK: Well, you need a director for that - a real director, a real filmmaker. Not some competent, unimaginative hack. Someone needs to be driving the engine right from the start – someone who understands the iconography of Spider-Man. Sam Raimi got it and he’s without a doubt a real filmmaker with a voice and vision. And speaking of vision and voice, you cut your teeth on music videos, but Heater is clearly imbued with the very distinctive touch of a true film artist. What was happening that saved you from continuing to rest on the laurels of a lucrative gig?

TO: I really used the music videos to hone certain levels of craft, but I really wanted to work in a narrative tradition. My wife Alicia [Odette] worked as a street nurse in the 90s for an organization in Toronto called Street Health that served the health care needs and advocated for the homeless or what they called the “under-housed” which could be people living in squalid rooming houses or things like that. She had clients from all walks of homelessness – people living in the woods around the Don Valley, on the streets, in all those rooming houses near the drop-in centre which still operates at Dundas and Sherbourne in downtown Toronto. She was one of four nurses working there at that time and one day she came home and the first thing she said was, “This guy tried to sell me a baseboard heater.” She’d get guys trying to sell her stuff at the centre all the time – like steaks – all kinds of crazy stuff. But this was the craziest. Can you imagine a guy wandering around homeless in Toronto during the winter, clutching a brand new baseboard heater that he couldn’t plug in because he’s living on the streets? This was more than enough to inspire me to start writing a script. This is what got the whole thing rolling.

GK: You based this story on events in Toronto, yet as someone who spent the first 33 years of his life in Winnipeg, your movie felt like it couldn't have been set anywhere other than The 'Peg.

TO: Winnipeg was an amazing location and whatever city the movie was set in, it couldn't just be a backdrop, but needed to be as much a character as those in the movie.

GK: Yeah, that speaks to the movie's universal qualities.

TO: It was always so important to me that I tell a story that could be appreciated in any context.

GK: And, frankly, it's so universal, I'd add anytime.

TO: When it's cold outside, we all need a heater.

GK: Actually, the character Stephen Ouimette plays, the guy with the heater, is a rich and important character, but the movie is really about the character Gary Farmer plays.

TO: That’s because the heater guy had plenty of obstacles to overcome, but I wanted a central character who had the greatest opportunities to grow and change over the course of the film and from the beginning I knew there had to be two men playing off each other and even working as a team – a partnership.

GK: A bit of John Steinbeck in the mix.

TO: Exactly. I used my imagination to create this character and kind of even projected myself through it. I kind of see myself as a bigger person and as I developed the story I was even more convinced he’d be this big lumbering guy. I just thought about what someone like me would do with every bad piece of luck thrown at him.

GK: And then he meets someone worse off than he is.

TO: That’s right. It’s something very, very simple.

GK: And simplicity is what gives you the layers.

TO: Yes, once that simple approach was nailed, I was able to layer-in a character who had an air of inscrutability about him – like he was always thinking his way through stuff or embroiled in deep memories he’d rather forget. In fact, I wrote the script for a white actor and never thought about him in terms of being Native. I imagined the late Maury Chaykin in the role, but he turned it down and when that happened, it dawned on me that Gary Farmer would be great.

GK: And given the neo-realist approach you take from a stylistic standpoint, it’s that very simplicity that really opens up the world to you as a storyteller.

TO: For sure. I was, at the time, heavily inspired by the Abbas Kiarostami trilogy of Where is the Friend’s House, Through the Olive Trees and Life Goes On. His approach is visually more complex than people might give it credit for, but his simple approach was very enlightening for me.

GK: I’ve been listening to the Don Shebib commentary track on the new Blu-ray release of Goin’ Down the Road and it’s a movie I love a great deal. In fact, when I first saw Heater, the first thing that popped into my head was Shebib. Though his movie feels improvised or on the fly, it’s really scripted and he gives considerable credit to screenwriter William Fruet’s writing. Because it was so well written, it allowed for a few moments of sidetracking or taking advantage of certain elements that popped up due to exigencies of production. His crew was lean and mean and his shots were pure documentary style – or, if you will, infused with certain elements of neo-realism.

TO: Yeah, it seems he had the same situation I was in – where knowing what you do have and knowing what you don’t have rules the day. There’s no way you can make silk out of a sow’s ear, so why bother trying? Instead you make a really first-rate sow’s ear. Even Kevin Smith’s Clerks, which is not really a sense of humour I respond to, I was finally able to succumb to - as did so many - because he took what little he had and made it a virtue. It was 16mm, black and white, super-grainy and with that script, it couldn’t help but work. If he’d shot that film in colour, 35mm, with mega-production value, I doubt it would have worked and I especially doubt it would have been a hit. I made so many music videos where I had all the toys – the cranes, the swoops, the dollies, but with Heater, I knew I wasn’t going to have that, so you make the decision going in what your approach is going to be and make the best movie you can within those parameters. You’ve gotta know what’s in your toolkit. That’s what Shebib did and it’s what I had to do.

GK: One of the things your film shares with Shebib's is a great sense of rhythm - that wonderful, musical poetic aspect of cinema. You had the good fortune to be working with one of Canada's best editors, David Wharnsby.

TO: David's a joy to work with.

GK: Any guy who can cut Sarah Polley's Away From Her AND Guy Maddin's Saddest Music in the World is tops in my books. Like all great editors, he's at home with "silent" cuts, but goddamn it, when he makes one of those breathtaking Wharnsby lollapalooza slices, I'm in ecstasy. Heater has a few moments like that where certain cuts are unbelievably dazzling, but never for the sake of just a cool cut - they're always rooted in both the rhythm AND the narrative.

TO: You're right. Given the form of Heater, it was always going to be in the cards to employ certain French New Wave-styled cuts.

GK: Shebib went back during editing and filled in a few bits and pieces at the beginning of the film – most of that stuff where Joey and Pete are on the road. In fact, for much of it, his D.O.P. Richard Leiterman wasn’t even available, so he called up his old buddy from film school to shoot. So there he was – Shebib, his two actors and Carroll “Fucking” Ballard.

TO: That’s amazing. It’s interesting that you do have a lot more freedom when you’re making the best sow’s ear you can. During the shoot, I re-shot 25% of Heater. For example, that scene where Gary drags Stephen across the street – we shot four times over four days until we got it right and like Shebib on Goin Down the Road, we had no permission or permits to even do this. Or sometimes, being in Winnipeg, we’d get hit with a snowstorm and this would happily force us to come up with stuff to exploit it. And Gary threw in the whole harmonica thing, which was so perfect for the film. And that’s Gary playing.

GK: One of many things I love about Heater is the look of it. You’ve got Winnipeg, in the winter for one and then you’ve got all the terrible beauty of the fluorescent interiors. I think it’s great that for your first feature you worked with the D.O.P. Arthur Cooper who is one of the best shooters in the country. His hand-held is amazing, his compositions always exquisite and he’s a true master of light. Where did you first hook up with him?

TO: I was producing a series for Vision TV and Arthur was hired as a camera operator. We hit it off almost immediately and we’d always watch a whole bunch of movies together and really discovered a shared sensibility. It was an extremely close friendship, rooted on my end in a deep respect for his artistry. At one point, I mentioned that I wanted to make a short film and he immediately offered to shoot it. He and I continued this collaboration on my rock videos with me. We worked together almost exclusively and for a very long time. When it came time to do Heater, I gave him the script and we never stopped talking about it. As the movie came closer to reality, we made the decision that our sow’s ear would be shot in 35mm to allow us the flexibility of using available light for night exteriors and anywhere we wanted to capture a natural look, but without the cost and mobility burden of lights and generators. Arthur really shone here. I had a specific look in mind based on what we had available to us and he delivered the goods and then some.

GK: You guys must have developed a keen shorthand.

TO: Oh yeah, I trusted him, he trusted me. You have to remember we were working in a pre-digital age – with film, on film, no video assist and a 48-hour delay in seeing rushes, so it was a classic director-D.O.P. relationship. I put all my faith in him and it always paid off. On Heater we had limited resources and only used what we absolutely needed to get the shots to recreate the terrible beauty of the world these guys live in.

GK: Yeah, that opening is so stunning with Gary sitting there in the welfare office while the bureaucrat putters about and those fluorescent lights casting that horrendous harsh glow over everything.

TO: That’s it. When we needed fluorescent lights, that’s what we went for and Arthur would pop the Kino bulbs in whenever we could.

GK: Gary Farmer is so astounding in that first scene that it’s like we can’t ever take our eyes off him. I can’t imagine Heater looking any differently than it does and I certainly can’t imagine it without Gary.

TO: Yeah, and it’s funny, when I offered it to him, he wasn’t really interested in the script, but wanted to meet me anyway. He was, as it turned out, very interested in the character, so as the script developed, he got happier and happier with it until one day he revealed a tiny smile and just said [TO in a superb Gary Farmer voice], “Yeah, put my name down.” The agreement we made from the start was that I’d never specifically write anything dealing with the character being Aboriginal. I was going to write a guy living on the street. Gary would add any Aboriginal stuff when necessary. If there was stuff I wrote that Gary felt needed some culturally specific elements, he and I would discuss it, but I’d ultimately defer to him on those elements. It’s these additional touches that make it more complex.

GK: What were the differences in acting styles between Gary and Stephen? Gary’s a veteran screen actor and Stephen, though he’s done plenty of film, comes from a classical theatre tradition.

TO: I think Gary Farmer played Gary Farmer and that’s what Gary Farmer does the best. I think Stephen is more of a character actor. At the time of shooting, Gary really understood that acting on film was about the face, about the gesture, about the reactive qualities and not about what you say. And Stephen is such a great actor and brings his own set of tools that occasionally all I needed to do was ask him to bring the levels down and he delivered beautifully. Directing these two different, brilliant men was always challenging and invigorating.

GK: Surely those guys had individual skills they could bring to each other. The chemistry between them is astounding.

TO: That’s probably because I was making my first feature and smart enough to back off and let them be together. They were always having fun with each other. Gary is so hilarious on and off screen with his Buster Keaton-like deadpan and on more than one occasion I saw him amiably pushing Stephen’s buttons. Oh, and if anyone requires an actor to pee – on camera, on command – Farmer’s the man. We did five takes in a row of that peeing scene and Gary, with no complaints, conjured it up every single time. And the other thing is that the three of us just had a wonderful camaraderie. The bit with the hair dryer was one where most films would deal with in post-production, but I explained we didn’t have the money or time to fuss with stuff like that in post and the two of them were, “Yeah, let’s do it!!!” The bottom line is that I was always happy to step back and give them the space to create their friendship.

GK: On Torn Curtain, Hitchcock loathed working with Paul Newman because he’d continually be method acting to distraction. Would you say Ouimette’s a method actor?

TO: Stephen keeps his method to himself. I’m sure it’s there, but he’s really that perfect balance of method actor and that thing Olivier said to Dustin Hoffman on Marathon Man: “Just act!” Not to take anything away from Gary, but he’s a different entity. He brings so much of himself to his roles.

GK: Well hell, that’s a good chunk of film history there, anyway. The other “Gary”, Gary Cooper, was pretty much always Gary Cooper, as was John Wayne. Their “method” was to bring themselves to every role and it’s great acting – pure and simple. When people say they can’t act, or that they’re “just” being themselves, I’m compelled to kill them. My innate humanity and compassion prevents me from doing so.

TO: Well yeah, think about Bogart. He sang very few notes, but the notes he sang are so wonderful, we want to see them again and again. Gary’s the same. He’s a great actor.

GK: Gary has real star quality. Stephen too. I always refer to certain actors as leading men in character roles. Gene Hackman always had that quality.

TO: When Gary and Stephen are together, it’s screen magic. Those two carry the film. When you watch the movie you’re engaged by both of them. I love the scene in the end involving the two of them and the whole business of the smokes. The scene is written in a very specific way, and the two of them go through the actions, but I could never have, in my wildest dreams ever imagined how wonderfully it would be performed. And the very humanity they bring to this scene and, in fact, the whole movie is what towers above what’s on the page.

GK: Don’t be modest. It WAS on the page. That’s what counts. What’s on the page is the springboard to vault everyone into the magic that is movies and the magic of your film.

TO: Well, it’s interesting. I remember meeting someone from Miramax who told me that the scene in the welfare office made her cry and I was like, “I’m not trying to make people cry, I’m just trying to be honest.”

GK: Look, what’s important about the film is that it’s rife with moments of heartbreaking humanity and – Hello! – We’ve got 90 potentially depressing minutes with two homeless guys, but amidst the tears and the bleakness of the landscape, their humanity DOES shine through and I’d also say, the movie has a lot of natural humour that comes from that humanity. It’s like Shebib’s Goin’ Down the Road – like, Hello Again! – You’ve got two loser drifters from the Maritimes looking for a better life in the Big Smoke and ultimately they face rejection, poverty and are driven to committing an act that they’d normally never imagine doing in even their wildest dreams. But goddamn it, Joey and Pete are funny. No matter what depths one drags one's characters down to, humour always plays an important role in beefing up the humanity – on-screen and in life.

TO: Humour, some of it black, was already there, but these two actors were able to breathe such life into their roles that they’re responsible to some extent for adding that layer to the film. I love that moment in the donut shop – you probably know that joint since you’re from Winnipeg – it really is a crack hangout.

GK: I have dined on many a stale donut and rancid coffee in that very establishment.

TO: Yeah, and when Stephen steals the money, it IS funny.

GK: A most tempting action in places like that.

TO: Yeah, it’s finding those little moments that make all the difference. What I learned most from my wife Alicia was that the dignity of every human – as simple and clichéd as that sounds – is inherent in all those people and they shouldn’t have to lose that dignity. I think when a character is allowed to laugh at themselves or their situation it’s all part of allowing them humanity and, in turn, dignity.

GK: I’ve heard tales about Mr. Ouimette’s personal hygiene during the shoot.

TO: I can say he did not take a bath for the entire period of shooting. This, I believe personally disgusted him and I truly believe he wanted to take a bath. Maybe he even did on his days off, but I have no means to prove it.

The following interview with Terrance Odette was PART TWO of my coverage on the landmark screening of Terrance Odette's HEATER playing at Toronto's TIFF Bell Lightbox in the important Open Vault series July 16 at 6:30pm. For tickets, visit the TIFF website HERE. PART ONE of my HEATER coverage is a review of the film which you can find HERE

Friday, 13 July 2012

HEATER - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Destined for classic status, Terrance Odette's Neo-Realist portrait of the homeless in Winnipeg is being honoured in the TIFF Bell Lightbox Open Vault Series.

The following review is PART ONE of my coverage on the landmark screening of Terrance Odette's HEATER playing at Toronto's TIFF Bell Lightbox in the important Open Vault series July 16 at 6:30pm. For tickets, visit the TIFF website HERE. PART TWO of my HEATER coverage is an interview with writer-director Terrance Odette which you can find HERE
Heater (1999)
dir. Terrance Odette

Starring:
Gary Farmer
Stephen Ouimette
Mauralee Austin
Tina Keeper
Blake Taylor
Joyce Krenz
Sharon Bajer
Martine Friesen
Wayne Niklas
Jan Skene
Jonathan Barrett

****

By Greg Klymkiw


Under the harsh glare of fluorescent lights, a large Aboriginal Man (Gary Farmer) with the name Ben emblazoned on his jacket sits patiently in a typically sterile welfare office. It could be anywhere, really, but this cold, hostile and slightly grimy government office is, for the purposes of the story in Heater, buried deep inside the stinking shit-cave of the world’s many assholes, Winnipeg.

The Aboriginal Man patiently waits – seemingly forever – while a thoroughly detestable welfare worker (Mauralea Austin) takes her sweet time shuffling papers like all good, little bureaucrats do. Though our friendly gentle giant is imbued with Job-like qualities, the slight shuffles and glances betray a desperation. When the Civic Sloth finally drags her living carcass behind the counter, a fortress wall to separate her and her ilk from those in society who need their help and understanding, she does what most petty bureaucrats do with relish - she serves up a toil and trouble brew of disdain.

And she's most eager to dish out her bilious verbal phlegm because, frankly, she can.

Ben, if that's even his name - he's homeless so chances are good he's wearing a piece of donated clothing from the Sally Anne - needs two simple things from this pasty-faced drudge.

You see, he's finally found a home - a real home.

It's not much, a squalid rooming house in Winnipeg's core area, but it's going to beat flea-ridden flophouses or worse, the streets. In a city where exposed flesh can freeze in 30 seconds or less, even the violence, filth and disease in flophouses is preferable to losing limbs to severe frostbite, or worse, curling up in the bitter cold to die.

Bottom line:

A home would be nice.

The other thing he needs from this hag is his welfare allowance cheque.

She looks at him with disgust. His face has an oozing sore on it. Feeling more self conscious, than concerned about the blood filled pustule, he lowers his eyes and remains silent through her badgering barrage of questions that have nothing to do with what he really needs.

When the topic turns to said needs, he suffers even further indignities. She can't possibly release a cheque for his home unless the landlord signs some idiotic form. Though Ben claims she made no mention of this the day before, she insists she did.

It's her word against his.

In a world of petty bureaucrats who are we supposed to believe? Sadly, most will side with the losers who collect a steady cheque for following impersonal rules to a "T" and making the lives of those whose lives couldn't possibly be worse - worse.

Ben practically goes on his knees to get this money. After all, he is on the verge of securing a HOME. He's promised the landlord money from the welfare department (based on the vile harpy's say-so) and if he doesn't deliver the goods, he loses the room.

The welfare official could care less. You can see the hate and utter revulsion she has for her clients etched into her granite face with a chisel and hammer by some unfeeling God a la Bergman's Winter Light (or, for that matter, the God who gave poor Job the unpleasant, unwanted butt-blasting). Ben is clearly affected by this woman's evil and his replies alternate between shame and defiance.

This scene, far from over, is so harrowing, so utterly horrendous and realistic in its depiction of what the disenfranchised suffer at the hands of those who one assumes are paid to help, but instead, fall back on their niggling pieties to pull pathetic power trips and ensure that the meagre amounts of money they dole out aren't squandered on booze or drugs.

It's clear Ben isn't going to do that.

He just wants a home.

And in the few opening minutes of Terrance Odette's Heater, Ben is like Charles Laughton's Quasimodo at the end of William Dieterle's The Hunchback of Notre Dame, looking at the gargoyles atop the great cathedral. Quasimodo, however was bathed in the rays of sunset. Ben is awash in fluorescent light whilst staring at the welfare clerk, a more insidious contemporary rendering of a gargoyle.

As we weep through much of this heart-wrenching scene, Ben's sad, soulful eyes, seem to silently evoke the words of Quasimodo:

"Why was I not made of stone like thee?"

13 years after Heater was first made, it is a film that has not dated and in fact, is probably just as vital now, if not more so than upon its premiere showing. Given that the gap between rich and poor is ever-wider and that the misled (and dwindling) middle class (and brain-bereft rural hayseeds) side, sheep-like, with an oligarchy (there's no real democratic government) that wants everyone to be at their mercy (or dead), the importance of Odette's film can't be overstated.

The film works perfectly as advocacy, propaganda (in the Michael Moore sense), great drama and most importantly as a staggeringly original use of cinema.

That Heater is a film which was entirely bungled and mishandled upon its completion is yet another testament to the sad state of English-Canadian production, distribution and exhibition. Idiotically rejected by the Toronto International Film Festival for God knows what inexcusable reason, unable to secure proper domestic distribution, sold far too quickly to some fly-by-night distribution entity in the United States (a completely boneheaded move considering the film eventually got a prestige berth at the Sundance Film Festival) and afforded only a briefly successful DVD release - Heater is a movie that DEMANDS to be seen by as many people as possible.

It's a great picture and will eventually achieve masterpiece status, but until then, anyone who truly cares about cinema will demand it be played on any format, though given the film's unique power and how stunning it actually looks on 35mm film, it's a shoe-in for specialty screenings in the few independent cinemas that still could do very well with the film if both the exhibitors and producers were willing to put in the necessary grassroots elbow grease into promoting it.

Thankfully, the TIFF (Toronto International Film Festival) Bell Lightbox is making up for the sins of past programmers and highlighting Heater at a special Open Vault screening in Toronto. I suspect this could be a perfect start to a new life for this great film.

Part of the film's power is rooted in the utter simplicity of its narrative. When Ben dejectedly leaves the Welfare Office, he's accosted by a Man (Stephen Ouimette) a squirrelly, limping, intense, homeless lower-drawer Ratso Rizzo.

Clutching a brand new baseboard heater still intact in its box - and obviously stolen goods - The Man is desperate to sell it.

He'll take 20 bucks.

Ben and the Man connect on several odd levels and begin an odyssey on the mean winter streets of Winnipeg to sell the heater or perhaps, even return it to the store for a refund.

Terrance Odette wrote and directed this astounding and deeply affecting film. It's a script that is imbued with a delicate simplicity that yields enough layers worthy of any great piece of literature.

Odette's mise-en-scène is rooted in genuine neo-realist traditions: mixing professional actors with real people, on real locations and allowing the camera enough time and space to capture the drama of life. There are no false touches (at least none I have ever detected). Odette lets the camera roll and the actors and locations (especially those hauntingly desolate Winnipeg streets) do their thing.

There are obvious parallels to be drawn between Heater and Don Shebib's seminal Goin' Down the Road (two male friends on a journey, looking for the simple pleasures in life and finding poverty and desperation at every turn), but for me, Odette's film comes closest to the stripped bare realism (albeit manipulated) of Lionel Rogosin's landmark classic about post-war-end-of-the-road alcoholics who live, from one drink to the next On The Bowery of New York's meanest streets of the 50s and 60s.

The "actors" in Rogosin's film are NOT actors, but they ARE directed and they do work from a narrative. Odette's actors are actors, but given the similar documentary approach and the genius of both Farmer and Ouimette as The (Homeless) Odd Couple, this is certainly a movie that feels like the real thing and most importantly, for those unfamiliar with the cast, it could well seem as realistic as Rogosin's masterpiece (which, by the way, is an absolute must-have DVD/Blu-Ray available from the visionary American cinema archivists and distributors, Milestone Films).

Made on a shoestring budget, the movie doesn't feel like it. Sure, the picture is raw, but cinematographer Arthur Cooper deftly shoots and lights the film like a true master. It's probably safe to say that in the intervening years between Heater and the present, Cooper is one of the country's great cinematographers. The funny thing is, based solely upon his work in Heater, Cooper already was a Master when he shot the film 13 years ago.

Another superb creative element is the ace editing of Canada's hands-down-undisputed-greatest-living-editor David (Sarah Polley's Away From Her, Guy Maddin's The Saddest Music in the World) Wharnsby. With his work in Heater, Wharnsby establishes a perfect rhythm. He strictly adheres to the stunning directorial virtuosity of the first scene - placing the audience into an almost hypnotic state throughout the almost somnambulistic (though always compelling) pacing. But every so often, Wharnsby brilliantly breaks the rules and delivers cuts that are utterly breathtaking - giving us a visceral response to dramatic beats and moving us ever-forward. And, of course, he even throws in a few French New Wave cuts a la Godard to jolt us onwards when we NEED to be jolted.

In addition to the leads, Odette has cast the movie to perfection. Some of the supporting performances, though brief, are true gems. Tina Keeper shines - as she always does - in the role of a nurse at the homeless drop-in centre and in a double-barrel whammy of sleaze, Blake Taylor and Joyce Krenz are so utterly creepy they look like every slum landlord I had the misfortune to meet in a life I briefly led in Winnipeg. (Does anyone remember the notorious Local Employment Assistant Program - LEAP - of the 80s? Mega-dollars-from-public-coffers for middle class caucasians to provide on-the-job training to the "disenfranchised" but instead feathered the nests of those who smarmily referred to this cash-cow as "The Indian Deal".)

Heater exposes truths that many want to avoid. This is one of many reasons why it's a great film. Odette is not content to simply drag us, Ulrich Seidl-like (the brilliantly insane Austrian filmmaker) through inhumanity to find some scrap of humanity. He trains his cameras on the disenfranchised with truth and compassion. It is finally a movie that celebrates those small dignities that can, in the lives of some, be larger than life itself.

Love, dignity and understanding drive this movie's engine and in that respect, Heater is a cinematic locomotive of hope.

See it. Demand it. Embrace it.

Check back for part two of my HEATER coverage where I present an interview between myself and writer-director Terrence Odette. You'll find that coverage HERE.



Friday, 16 December 2011

"You Only Have Yourself To Blame" Polanski's Claustrophobia Films - a Two Part Feature By Greg Klymkiw - Part I: My Love Affair With "The Poison Dwarf"

Some call him "THE POISON DWARF"
Others call him "ROMAN POLANSKI"

"You Only Have Yourself To Blame"
The Claustrophobia Films of Roman Polanski
Part One: My Love Affair With The Poison Dwarf


By Greg Klymkiw

The vast majority of Roman Polanksi films referred to in this series of articles are all available on a variety of labels including THE CRITERION COLLECTION and can be ordered directly through this website via the Amazon.ca Amazon.com and amazon.uk links at the bottom of this piece.

Anticipating the release of "Carnage", Roman Polanski's nasty, insanely hilarious four-hander, The Toronto International Film Festival's TIFF Bell Lightbox presents an astonishing mini-retrospective of the work of everyone's favourite genius child rapist that focuses upon his continued obsession with paranoia within the context of closed spaces. Films include: "Knife in the Water" (Saturday December 17 @ 09:00 PM), "Cul-de-sac" (Sunday December 18 09:00 PM), "Repulsion" (Wednesday December 21 09:00 PM), "The Tenant" (Thursday December 22 09:00 PM), "Rosemary's Baby" (Friday December 23 09:00 PM) and "The Ghost Writer" (Sunday December 25 04:00 PM). "Chinatown" will also be on display (Sunday December 18 03:00 PM & Tuesday December 2009:00 PM)

I have no idea what possessed me, but as a teenager in 1977 I took my mother to see Roman Polanski's The Tenant. My poor mother, BUT - lucky me! To be a kid who loved movies during the 1960s and 70s is an experience I fear can never be replicated. Those whose first real taste of cinema in, God Help Us, the 80s and onwards, will never know the joy of experiencing something like The Tenant on a big screen in its first run. It was a time of such daring and insanity - in both the mainstream and fringes - and to already be afflicted with an obsession for cinema in this good time is something I will always cherish. For most cinephiles of the generations following my own, their first taste of this, or earlier periods of film history, was most often in a home entertainment format. This is, and was of course, better than nothing, but one can never replace a big screen experience - especially within the context of a film's first run.

The aforementioned screening of The Tenant (with Mom, who was just a nice Ukrainian girl from North End Winnipeg and not aware of even the most mild depravity, let alone the full-on whack-jobbery on display) was hardly the beginning of my mad affair with Roman Polanski.

Is it possible for a gentleman in drag to menstruate?
Well, if that gentleman happens to be Roman Polanski...

My palate first acquired a taste of Polanski's gifts in the form of a heavily-censored prime-time network television premiere of Rosemary's Baby which, even in this expurgated delivery, scared the living shit out of me as a kid. My second helping of Polanski was when my Grade 8 English teacher Mrs. Rappaport (wife of famed Winnipeg Rabbi, the late Sidney Rappaport of the Rosh Pina Synagogue) showed a 16mm print of Macbeth projected onto a small classroom screen as it clackety-clacked through a Bell and Howell projector. This was, indeed, racy material to be showing in a North-end Winnipeg school what with its gloriously nude and nubile toil-and-trouble witches, Lady Macbeth sleepwalking in the nude (natch'), magnificent manly carnage, copious bloodletting and a decapitation that will live with me always as it was my first on-screen taste of such joyous activity.

Even more extraordinary was how the movie came so immediately in the wake of the brutal murder of Polanski's beloved pregnant wife Sharon Tate at the hands of the Charles Manson "family". Being a precocious little bugger, I recall bringing this up in classroom discussions with Mrs. Rappaport. This pleased her to no end. Then again, i have a vague memory of the late Rabbi coming in to do a guest lecture on the Holocaust and screening Night and Fog. Things in the North End of the 'Peg were plenty, and perhaps to some, surprisingly progressive during the 70s. I ask you: What movie lovers of any subsequent generation could discuss Polanski's Macbeth within the context of horrific events so fresh? And in junior high school, no less.

Polanski's MACBETH: Buckets of Blood. As it should be. 

And then, over a period of several years, I became a fixture at a seemingly endless parade of mini retrospectives at the Manitoba Planetarium Auditorium. Programmed by the legendary critic and trade reporter Len Klady I received my most intense immersion in the work of the perverse genius Polanski who, as a child, survived all manner of brutalities during WWII (that were horrendously detailed and re-imagined in Jerzy Kosinski's great novel "The Painted Bird"). It was here, in brand spanking new 16mm prints, that I tasted Knife in the Water, Cul-de-sac and Repulsion. These early masterworks of paranoia within claustrophobic settings were more than enough to instil the kind of adulation and love for a filmmaker's work that would be with me for my whole life. As well, there was the added context of being this weird fat pudge-o-rama who showed up to every screening until eventually the inimitable Mr. Klady offered, "Kid, you're here all the time. Why don't you rip tickets for me and I'll let you see the movies for free?"

MAJOR LEAGUE BONII!!!

Even better were several years of engaging conversation and tutelage under one of the most rapturous film aficiandos on this Good Earth.

My next heapin' helpin' o' Polanski came both at home and on the big screen. Like Rosemary's Baby, I first saw The Fearless Vampire Killers on network television in prime time. My impressions as a kid, were not all that memorable. It was probably the first time I saw a Polanski picture that just didn't do it for me. Though by this point I was already a Hammer Horror fan (thanks to sneaking off alone to a variety of Main Street Winnipeg grindhouses where I drank in any number of Christopher Lee bloodsuckers within an auditoriums rife with the pungent aroma of urine, sticky cum-plastered floors and toothless hookers giving gum jobs to old men), I failed to see any humour or thrills in this spoof of the aforementioned lurid British horror fests. (Though 20 years or so after, I watched a gorgeous laserdisc transfer, and found the entire crazed pastiche very entertaining.)

And, O! glorious 70s! Will I ever forget seeing Chinatown - FIRST RUN and on a big screen in a packed-to-the-rafters Polo Park Cinema? I saw this with Mom, too, but unlike The Tenant, she fell hook, line and sinker for the neo-noir mystery thriller.

By the time I dragged my Mom to The Tenant, I was already hooked - rapturously in love with Roman Polanski. I've tried analyzing why his pictures meant so much to me 'twixt the tender ages of about 7 to 17. Looking back on my original notes (yes, I really was that big of a geek in the 60s and 70s - from age 7, I kept detailed index cards on every movie I saw) and, in addition to recalling my initial feelings, it boils down to a few salient details.

First of all, I had (and continue to possess) a healthy penchant for genre pictures and the territory Polanski was exploring in his own thrillers worked on visceral levels (they were creepy and scary), but in ways NOBODY else could do. His eye, always so meticulous about holding on images until we saw what his protagonist and/or what Polanski himself wanted us to see, his mastery of pace - especially of the slow, gnawing, creep-crawly kind and last, but certainly not least, his genuine perversity - not just for its own sake, but as a genuinec reflection of alternate realities that so often hit home and/or felt frighteningly familiar. More importantly, on a strictly personal note, I've always had a pretty morbid (some might even suggest sick) sense of humour and between, or even during the scares, Polanski has been the prime inspiration for me to slap my knee whilst horking out huge guffaws. And certainly, as my aforementioned anecdote regarding my Macbeth experience in junior high school displays, I always had lots of cool shit to talk about beyond the usual plot and/or cool-factor exclamations my peers were afflicted with. In fact, the movies allowed me to talk to adults similarly afflicted with cinema obsession and happily, on a whole different level.

Is that a severed head outside Polanski's window?

As well, Polanski seemed to make movies unlike anyone else. Even those that were unfurled against the backdrop of extremely claustrophobic settings sent me into multi-orgasmic explosions of utter drainage. I could never keep my eyes off the screen - every beat, every sound, every gesture, every detail seemed so inextricably linked to moving the stories forward, that I am convinced I was attracted to this mastery of cinematic story telling over all else.

Polanski was, in a word, perverse. So, it would seem, was I.

In retrospect, numerous subsequent viewings of his work and knowledge of his horrific experiences living on the streets during the Nazi occupation (his own Mother died in Auschwitz) explain a great deal. Polanski brought perhaps the single most important element to the proceedings - life experience. It's not an automatic pre-requisite, but when artists bring both their soul and life experience to the fore, one is almost guaranteed to take a cinematic ride unlike those machine-tooled by the proficient, but empty camera jockeys who generate skilled entertainments, but ultimately, have nothing to say.

Seeing Polanski's work during my formative years and when the films were so immediate you could almost touch them is, a personal factor in my obsession. That said, though, they were and still are wholly original - imbued with that special something that guarantees appreciation beyond the mere ephemeral - thus ensuring that they'll live well beyond their initial release.

The generation I pity the most, of course, are all those who fell in love with the movies when utter drivel unspooled upon their movie-needy psyches and shaped a woeful generation weaned on the worst cinema history had to offer. The tastes of this sad generation were chiseled by work that was best exemplified by the title of Pauline Kael's compilation of her New Yorker reviews from this period. It was titled, "State of the Art". All of Kael's previous book titles were rooted in sexual abandon - titles like "I Lost It At The Movies", "Reeling", "When the Lights Go Down", "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang" and my favourite, "Deeper Into Movies". With that title, one could almost imagine plucky Pauline, her eyes sparking devilishly, an ever-so slight smirk emblazoned upon her visage, almost matronly (yet alternately that of some come-hither, gutter-dwelling slattern), before affixing a mighty strap-on dildo to her torso and plunging it into whatever orifice we'd allow her to puncture - just so she could drill down to our collective G-spot.

The movies. Of course.

But after the 70s, we no longer "lost it" at the movies. No sex, no carnal desire, no rapturous orgasmic celebration of the greatest art form of all creation. For Kael, movies had all become an industrialized, cold, thing. No longer was blood pumping to the penis or vagina. Instead, a throbbing, jack hammering cacophony emanated from the screen and induced nausea and/or sheer boredom. And when it wasn't that, it was the mewing and/or caterwauling to pulverize our cinematic libidos into cornmeal. Cases in point: George Lucas's original Star Wars series, John Hughes's whine-fests or all the empty calories of early Bruckheimer and Simpson extravaganzas. This was no longer sex, it was, "The State of the Art".

The post-70s period was also the decade when true repertory cinema began to die and where mainstream network television and its affiliates decreased the number of classic films on its programming slates. Not only did subsequent generations of burgeoning movie lovers have to be inflicted with first run "state of the art" crap, but they had no reference points for cinema beyond Bruckheimer, Hughes and Luke Skywalker.

To coin a refrain from Edward Albee's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf: "Sad, sad,sad."

I still remember the theatre I first saw Polanski's crazed cross-dressing plunge into madness and xenophobia, the long-departed Northstar Cinema. This "modern" twin hardtop on Portage Avenue in downtown Winnipeg was home to a weird variety of motion picture product. In those halcyon days, both of the auditoriums were huge. One screen would often feature something that was of the blockbuster variety, while the other would show more sophisticated fare.

It's where I first saw - FIRST RUN - Ingmar Bergman's Cries and Whispers, Lina Wertmuler's Seven Beauties and, I kid you not, Don Shebib's classic of Canadian cinema Goin' Down The Road - and in a 600-seat house that almost always managed to draw huge crowds for films that now would be lucky to get a miserable postage stamp screen in a dank, poorly attended discount-cinema-cum-arthouse populated by backpack-adorned granola-munching vegans.

Mom enjoyed seeing movies there, too. It was a fresh, new and clean complex and because of its upscale qualities, it never seemed to attract that certain "element" (my Mother's favourite word) which spoiled any outing outside of the mall in our suburban paradise. The theatre was also conveniently located round the corner from the bank she worked in, so I'd often plan to meet her downtown after work and see a movie.

And what, did I choose? A Roman Polanski movie. And not just any Roman Polanski movie, but easily one of his most creepy and perverse pictures up to that point.

Jesus, I was a weird kid.

But that's not the entire story. It's always important to consider the venues and context of seeing a picture because ultimately, if it has the potential to break free of those considerations, it almost always is the sign of a true classic. Luckily, for those who never experienced Polanski properly on a big screen (and those who have and need to do so again), The TIFF Bell Lightbox Polanski retrospective will afford a most rare opportunity. "You Only Have Yourself To Blame" The Claustrophobia Films of Roman Polanski by Greg Klymkiw continues on Monday, December 19, 2011 with Part Two - The Art of Humiliation: Repulsion and The Tenant. To access that piece now, click HERE.