BACHMAN - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Hot Docs 2018 Hot Pick: Solid BTO frontman BioDoc

Guess Who/BTO guitarist is always takin' care of business.

Bachman (2018)
Dir. John Barnard

Review By Greg Klymkiw

"Randy Bachman was The Guess Who... he had an expanded mind from the beginning." - Neil Young on Randy Bachman's removal from The Guess Who and the guitarist's avoidance of all the usual trappings of rock and roll - namely booze and drugs - and the man's inherent greatness without anything more mind altering than making music.

Much as I loved and will always love The Guess Who (who couldn't love songs like American Woman, These Eyes and Laughing?), my generational and personal rock and roll touchstones will always be BTO, Bachman Turner Overdrive. Takin' Care of Business, Let It Ride, You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet, Roll on Down the Highway and so many more are a veritable litany of hard driving Canadian prairie rock and roll that took the world by storm and blasted on millions of automobile tape decks.

Bachman is a solid biographical documentary of Randy Bachman, one of the greatest guitarists of all time, and of course, the writer (or co-writer) of hit after hit after hit. Skilfully blending a cornucopia of rich archival footage and all-new interviews with the likes of musicians Neil Young, Alex Lifeson, Chad Allan, Paul Shaffer, Fred Turner, actor Bruce Greenwood, music historian John Einarson and many family and friends, director John Barnard serves up a detailed portrait of this seminal Canadian rocker.

Hitting all the salient points of Bachman's life, we get glimpses into his earlier childhood as the surviving twin of a German Dad and Ukrainian Mom in the legendary North End of Winnipeg where he lived at the corner of Seven Oaks and Powers. He was showered with plenty of nurturing and love and his work ethic was clearly instilled within him by his Dad, an optometrist who would often ask his kids, "Do you like to work at nothin' all day?" (Sound like a familiar lyric?)

Bachman went to music school, of course. It was clear he had gifts, but he had little interest in his first instrument, the violin and very quickly he discovered and fell in love with the guitar. As a teenager, he was mentored by the great Lenny Breau and he soon hooked up with songwriter-singer Chad Allan (at the urging of bassist Jon Kale) and the trio added drummer Gary Peterson to the mix and Bachman was playing with Chad Allan and the Expressions. The group had an early hit with a rousing, seminal 1965 cover of "Shakin' All Over" by Johnny Kidd and the Pirates. Their twangy, reverb-heavy and zippily discordant rendition hit the top of the Canadian charts and even penetrated the American charts quite substantially. The group eventually became The Guess Who.

Bachman, while he always flirted with a "lighter" sound, was ultimately more at home with an edgier, more hard driving beat and when the group came across North End Winnipeg bad boy Burton Cummings, Allan stepped down from the band he founded and The Guess Who began their meteoric rise.

Barnard's film certainly doesn't skimp on the magnificent creative energy twixt Bachman and Cummings, but nor does it shy away from detailing the clear differences between the two men in temperament. Bachman was a big brother, almost father figure to the entire band. We learn that he rooted the wild boys in reality, but eventually Bachman's no-booze-no-drugs-no-womanizing began to wreak havoc with the group's mojo. Bachman was a straight arrow family man (who converted to Mormonism in order to woo his first wife). We learn that Cummings especially began to resent Bachman's authoritarian air and in a shocker, Bachman was forced out of the band.

In the film, utter incredulity is expressed by Neil Young (who claims that as a kid, it was Bachman who influenced him). "Randy was The Guess Who," says the rocker, who also lived in Bachman's hometown of Winnipeg before leaving for Thunder Bay and other points east.

Eventually, we are treated to Bachman reuniting with Chad Allan for the band Brave Belt, but this was a short-lived partnership. Bachman, we learn, was convinced to hear one burly Fred Turner belt out his live cover of "House of the Rising Sun" at the legendary Marion Hotel. Bachman, a devout Christian and non-drinker, didn't even want to enter the bar and heard the first few minutes of Turner from an open exit door.

The rest, is indeed, history - rock and roll history. Bachman Turner Overdrive (BTO) left everything behind like so much dust in the wind.

The film also charts, Bachman's "third act". At one point Bachman admits that when you hit the top, there's only one way to go, and yes, we get a glimpse into some very lean years. However, the film also charts Bachman's various reinventions musically and yes, his long, distinguished career as a radio host of CBC's "Vinyl Tap".

Now, does the film dig deeper beyond what one might expect from a solid, traditional musical biography? Not often, but the movie still makes for compelling viewing. What one takes away is a portrait of a driven, musically gifted workaholic who never seems to ever be on camera without a guitar in his hands. One of the more entertaining aspects of the film is Bachman's relationships with his managers - first his savvy, congenial brother Gary and in direct contrast, Vancouver's Bruce Allen, a perfect partner for the driven Bachman. Amusingly, the film reveals Bachman's "Papa Bear" qualities, but in terms of Bruce Allen, he's reduced to a baby pitbull to Allen's mega-pitbull vice-like jaws on all things.

While it's easy to live without interviews with Burton Cummings in the movie (he's nicely represented by all the archival material and the various interviewees' recollections), my only real quarrel with the film is the short shrift it gives to what I believe is arguably the best work Bachman ever did - his astonishing Any Road album and its classic ode to the wild rock and roll days of Winnipeg, Prairie Town (featuring Neil Young and Margo Timmins on not just one, version of the song, but two). This was as perfect an album as one could imagine from someone who'd already delivered so much great stuff that one couldn't imagine him ever outdoing any of it. But with 1993's release of Any Road, Bachman hit some kind of stratospheric creative nirvana. Its absence, beyond a couple of token nods, at least to any die-hard Bachman aficionado, seems borderline heretical.

But, this is a nitpick. Bachman delivers the goods. It takes care of business, and then some.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: *** Three-Stars

Bachman enjoys its World Premiere at Hot Docs 2018.

BY SIDNEY LUMET - Review By Greg Klymkiw - AllLumetAllaTime@TorontoJewishFilmFestival(TJFF 2016)

I'M MAD AS HELL
I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE IT ANYMORE
SIDNEY LUMET - AN AMERICAN MASTER 

By Sidney Lumet (2015)
Dir. Nancy Buirski

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Though By Sidney Lumet might not have the Noah Baumbach and Jake Paltrow ultra-geek imprimatur at its helm like De Palma did, director Nancy Buirski holds her own quite artfully with an extended interview shot three years before its subject's death in 2011. She crafts a sterling documentary portrait of the late American master-filmmaker who gave the world Network, Dog Day Afternoon, The Verdict, Serpico, 12 Angry Men, The Hill, The Pawnbroker, Prince of the City, Daniel, Long Day's Journey Into Night and some 60+ other movie and television productions.

Like De Palma, By Sidney Lumet has only one voice. Buirski's terrific film is ALL Lumet, ALL the time and what a marvellous gift that she (and Lumet) have bestowed upon the world. And Lumet, like De Palma, talks straight to the camera.

Father and Son: Lives in the theatre
Fathers and Sons: Recurring theme in Lumet's Films

In a series of warmly lit and sumptuously, evocatively composed head and shoulders shots (accompanied by archival film, photos and film clips) he delivers fascinating biographical details of his life before the movies, a narrative of his family's involvement in Yiddish theatre in New York, Lumet's career as a successful child actor, his expulsion from the Actors' Studio after one day and then, a series of blow-by-blow reminiscences about many of his pictures.

There's no denying the appeal of Lumet's early days. His father, Baruch Lumet was a successful working actor in Yiddish theatre. Lumet recounts that his first exposure to William Shakespeare was in Yiddish. Baruch was lucky enough to land a radio drama which he wrote, directed and starred in (along with young Sidney and his Mother). The program was so popular that the $35 per week it paid was more than enough to allow the family to survive throughout the depression. Baruch even rented huge theatres and mounted live theatrical adaptations of his radio show which, more often than not, packed the house.

When Yiddish theatre began to dry up, Baruch introduced Sidney to a few leading lights on Broadway and he became one of the most successful child actors on New York's Great White Way, appearing in 14 Broadway shows including Sidney Kingsley's immortal "Dead End" (the precursor to a number of Bogart/Cagney gangster and juvenile delinquent pictures at Warner Bros as well as the long running comedy movie franchises of The Dead End Kids and The Bowery Boys).

The film brilliantly follows Lumet's philosophies of both life and art - alternating between subtlety and on-pointedness when either approach is most necessary to the film's narrative and pedagogical journey. This is no mere anecdotal exploration of his life and work, but rather, a vitally practical one. The generous clips from his top-drawer pictures not only remind us of just how great a filmmaker Lumet was, but are always rooted in the narrative he provides, which Buirski and her creative team follow religiously, but with deft variations to never instil sameness to the proceedings.

Especially poignant are Lumet's memories of his father and their special relationship. These memories are hammered home with clips from Lumet's later films which dealt with father-son relationships like Long Day's Journey Into Night, Daniel, Running On Empty and Before The Devil Knows You're Dead.

Lumet and Fonda: To do the right thing. Or not.

Buirski wisely chooses to begin the film proper with the great scene from 12 Angry Men wherein a seemingly privileged, well-to-do all-White male jury quickly dispenses with their first vote in a murder trial in which a guilty verdict will bring an automatic death sentence to the accused, a young man from the deepest, darkest, dirtiest slums of New York. Only one man, Henry Fonda ('natch) adheres to the basic principles of the law and votes not guilty as he believes there is reasonable doubt. Buirski ends the clip on a haunting image of Fonda, with one of the eeriest half-smiles of benevolence any actor has ever had to deliver, which she freezes, then fades to black.

We then find ourselves on Sidney Lumet, deep in reflection. He begins to recount the horrific story about something he witnessed in a post-war Calcutta train station. A 12-year-old girl on the platform is dragged into a train compartment by a burly American G.I. Lumet is stunned by this and can't even believe it's just happened in plain view and ignored by the throngs.

He musters enough fortitude, marches to the compartment and knocks on the door. When it opens, he realizes the G.I. has taken on the role of a pimp and is charging other soldiers an entrance fee for the pleasure of fucking the little girl. It's clear they're tossing her between them like a rag doll, viciously, callously, greedily pulling train on this child. The soldier asks Lumet if he wants a piece of the action, for a price, of course. He refuses to partake.

It is at this moment when he is seriously faced with a dilemma that's clearly haunted him his whole life. Does he say something, do something, do anything to stop this gang-rape upon a child by his fellow American soldiers?

The aforementioned clip from 12 Angry Men, so infused with the question of doing the right thing and linked to this shocking real-life situation in Lumet's own life, is what informs the rest of the picture, as well as laying out both the structure and mise en scène of the documentary itself.

"I'm not directing the moral message," Lumet offers after this harrowing introduction. He then becomes especially succinct and emphatic on his statement: "I'm directing that piece and those people. If I do it well, the moral message will come through . . . you say it's a conscious choice, I say it's an unconscious choice."

"Guess who got shot? Serpico."
"You think a cop did it?"
"I know six cops who said they'd like to."

Choices, of the "unconscious" variety comprise a great deal of Lumet's analyses of his own work and it all appears to be rooted in his childhood memories of growing up poor. To his way of thinking, being poor and having fun were not mutually exclusive because of the fact that as a kid, he only knew one way of life. It was just the way it was. As the documentary progresses, it becomes apparent just how rooted Lumet's films actually were because of the reality of his childhood - growing up in New York in cramped apartments, neighbourhoods boxed in by multi-tenant dwellings and the sheer vibrancy of always being surrounded by throngs of people.

This brilliantly explains how Lumet had a genuinely distinctive voice as a filmmaker. He seemed to always go out of his way to set films or to shoot scenes in the most constricted locations and, of course his love affair with the grime and boxed-in qualities of living in New York. He even admits how in life and his art, being anywhere but New York caused him a great deal of anxiety.

That the documentary places huge emphasis upon the seeming constrictions of Lumet's long career as a television director is especially telling. In the clips and in Lumet's own words, we experience how he was able to move quickly and effectively, bringing an innate cinematic eye to his television drama and continuing on a larger scale with feature films.

And film after film, By Sidnet Lumet charts a world of humanity and vibrancy within world which, for the most part, are closed in. If anything, Sidney Lumet thrived on claustrophobia. Furthermore, it was this sense of claustrophobia which resulted in cinematic two-by-fours to one's senses whenever his pictures exploded fro within tight confines into the wider world. Network, with its boardrooms and television control rooms are always vibrant, but whenever he whips us out of doors - think Peter Finch in closeup in the TV studio delivering his "mad as Hell" speech, juxtaposed with smash cuts to the outside world as people fling open the windows upon the streets to do the mad news-anchor's bidding, screaming out to the world, "I'm mad as Hell and I'm not going to take it anymore."

This incredible mise en scène in film after film is what tantalizes us, excites us, presents the moral message and, in many cases, elicits huge laughs and feelings of elation on our part. Who will ever forget the hot, sweaty confines of a bank under siege, juxtaposed with Al Pacino leaping onto the streets screaming: "Attica! Attica! Attica!"

We also get a sense of how Lumet's cinematic renderings of words, dialogue and monologue continually flew in the face of what had become common wisdom in film. One picture after another has characters dominating scenes they're in with some of the most astonishing, heart-wrenching monologues. His adaptations of theatre were especially brave as he sought to not "open-up" the properties, just for the sake of moving us out of the "stage bound" settings. In Lumet's deft hands, the phrase "stage bound" never existed. All he cared about was creating drama on film, placing his subjects directly in the eye of the storm of his eyes.

Most of all, the nice thing about Buirski's film is that she never lets's us forget any moments of Lumet's filmmaking genius. They're inextricably linked to Lumet's words and both are proof that sometimes, silence is not golden.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: **** 4-Stars

By Sidney Lumet can be seen at the Toronto Jewish Film Festival (TJFF 2016).

TAB HUNTER CONFIDENTIAL: 25th Anniversary Inside Out Toronto LGBT Film Festival 2015 - Review By Greg Klymkiw

Tab Hunter Confidential (2015)
Dir. Jeffrey Schwarz

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Jeffrey Schwarz is one of America's stellar documentary filmmakers. He's contributed an important body of work on cinema as well as gay pop culture. With a solid career generating superb specialty product for television and added value materials for home entertainment releases, he's become especially notable for his slickly produced feature documentaries Vito (a profoundly moving portrait of gay cinema historian Vito Russo) and I Am Divine (the lovely, entertaining biographical portrait of everyone's favourite 300 lb. transvestite and John Waters muse).

Based on the hugely successful and insightful autobiographical book Tab Hunter Confidential, Schwarz has another winner to add to his canon of essential work.

Tab Hunter was one of the biggest movie heartthrobs of the 50s, a huge music recording star and a damn fine actor to boot who was groomed by Warner Bros. to make them a lot of money, but seldom allowing him the opportunity to grow as an actor. Gorgeous, blonde, kind-hearted and affable in real life as he appeared on screen, Hunter was, like so many gay actors, forced to keep his sexuality deep in the closet in order to maintain his spot at the top of the box-office.

When he eventually changed agents to assist him with getting more challenging roles, his first talent rep released information to the scandal press about Hunter's brief brush with the law (which had been repressed quite ably) wherein he'd been found in the (gasp!) company of homosexuals. Hunter was so beloved by his studio - Jack Warner in particular - because of the oodles of substantial grosses he pulled in, that even this was reasonably covered over by the powerful studio so he could keep making them money.

Unfortunately, Hunter extricated himself from his Warner's contract to become independent so he could more ably dictate better roles for himself. Without the protection and regular cheques from the studio, he quickly became persona non grata in the industry and was relegated to working in even more slight product than ever before. He eventually stopped working altogether in the movies and became a stalwart on the dinner theatre circuit. It brought in steady money, but was also drudgery in terms of both the travel and non-stop demand of daily live performance in front of thousands of audiences slurping back globs of grotesque comestibles at the all-you-can-eat troughs of this horrendous circuit used to capitalize on actors who were "past their prime".

Eventually, Hunter was back on top as a film cult personality thanks to his great work in John Waters's Polyester and the gay-tinged spaghetti western spoof Lust in the Dust. Again though, he faced obscurity after this brief resurgence and Hunter turned to his first love, horses, and became a master of equestrian competition - something he continues with to this very day.

It's a great story and Schwarz juggles all the balls (as it were) at his disposal to create a significant document of the studio period in Hollywood and the burgeoning years of independent cinema. Perhaps even more meaningful is the frank look at what it meant to be gay in America and Hollywood when homosexuality was not merely frowned upon, but considered criminal deviant activity.

Using a star studded cast of interviewees and the best selection of film clips and archival materials money can buy, Schwarz is also granted unfettered access to Hunter himself. In a series of penetrating interviews, we learn about Hunter's abusive father, loving mother, his devotion to God and the Church, his heartbreaking experience with the nasty repression of Catholicism and, of course, his often scintillating, but secret love life.

On the surface, he was paired up by the studio with the gorgeous Natalie Wood and the two of them were "lovers" in the eyes of the world, accompanying each other to a myriad of events, parties, premieres and pretty much anywhere paparazzi were present to grab fodder for fan magazines. Hunter's recollection of these dates with Wood and other female stars provide deeply loving relationships, albeit of the purely platonic kind (though there is one "straight" story that offers us much in the way of genuine tears).

As for the fellas, we're privy to Hunter's secret relationships with other gay men in the industry, most notably Anthony Perkins; as intense and deep a love relationship one could imagine twixt anyone and yet one which crashed and burned when Hunter was betrayed professionally by Perkins.

Tab Hunter Confidential has anything any movie lover could want, but at the end of the day, it also offers an extremely crucial history of gay life from the 1950s and beyond. It's also worth noting that all the interviews with the celebrity experts are beautifully rendered by Schwarz and deliver a lineup of people who are both entertaining and magnanimous.

The one exception, however, is an interview with Clint Eastwood. I've always admired him as an actor and director, but frankly, he comes across as a complete asshole - at least that was my feeling. Schwarz only keeps this one bit with Eastwood in the film which, suggests to me that Eastwood must have been an even bigger asshole in material that found its way to the cutting room floor.

Then again, some might find Eastwood's remarks funny and the real reason he's represented as such. I don't know. You can be the judge. The movie was so moving, that Eastwood's bit just stuck out like a sore thumb to me.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: **** 4 Stars

Tab Hunter Confidential is playing at the Inside Out 2015 Toronto LGBT Film Festival. For further info, please visit the festival's website by clicking HERE.

HOT DOCS 2015 - LISTEN TO ME MARLON - Review By Greg Klymkiw *****

Listen To Me Marlon (2015)
Dir. Stevan Riley

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Superlatives declaring something's the best are a dime a dozen. I've made more than a few in my lifetime, but one I'll affix a substantially greater value to is this: We will never see an actor as great as Marlon Brando. Ever. Nobody can touch the guy. When he's been at his laziest, he's still managed to blow the best work away like so many puffs on the three little pigs' houses - including the one made of brick. When he's been at his best, nobody, but nobody can catch up. He was always ahead of the rest.

Listen To Me Marlon is as great a filmed biographical portrait of Brando as we could ever imagine. During his life, he recorded hundreds upon hundreds of hours of audio tape, none of it having ever been heard before. Director Stevan Riley has poured over this wealth of material and assembled it with an astonishing collection of film clips, home movies, archival footage and a few interview sequences; giving us the closest we'll get to a living, breathing autobiography of the man himself.

Brando's tapes include his deepest thoughts and musings, but also include an endless number of self-hypnosis tapes. The man knew how to use his voice - so much so he was able to use it, lay it down upon reel-to-reel and listen to those mellifluous tones and words as a form of self-therapy. Using a blend of stock footage, including makeup tests and other behind-the-scenes footage which show Brando as himself, often at his moat vulnerable, we hear him speak slowly, rhythmically and ever-so hypnotically:

"Now let your mind drift back, way back in time, to a time when you were very young, when you used to put on your clothes, very early in the morning, when everyone was sleeping. Walk down the sidewalk and sit underneath that big elm tree back in Omaha, with the wind blowing the light, the shadow of leaves. It is like a wonderful soft dream, that soft wind calling. That's a wind that you can trust. You are the memories."

And what memories we get. Blending a variety of related media to certain topics, we're afforded the stuff of human drama in ways which inform Brando's genius, but also betray everything which haunts him as a person and artist. For example, Brando reveals on tape the sad memories of his mean, absent father and his tender, loving mother and the booze that drove his old man to pummel everything and everyone around him, and the same booze that his Mom used to ease the pain until finally, she had the courage to leave and the cowardice to abandon her child.

These are, of course, incredibly heartbreaking words, but even more so when director Riley cuts in a rare piece of news footage involving Brando in his hotel room in the hours before he'd win his Academy Award for On the Waterfront and his father, old and hard, sitting in an armchair, responds to the reporter's query as to whether he was proud of his son. Chillingly, he says: "As an actor, no. As a man, yes."

The elder Brando goes on to reveal his thoughts about Marlon's childhood and the camera picks up the son's incredulous look as his father talks. When the reporter asks Marlon if he'd care to defend himself, he waves it off and declares he could beat his father with one hand tied behind his back. Brando's tapes then sadly reveal the public act he and his Dad engaged in - a loving father and adoring son. "It was a lot of hypocrisy," says Brando. "When what you are as a child is unwanted then you look for an identity that's wholly acceptable."

Later on, we hear tapes Brando made of Bernardo Bertolucci talking about how he wanted Marlon to go ever-deeper with autobiographical details in the role of Paul in Last Tango in Paris. Brando expresses his anger about this, but also his acquiescence. Riley then offers a montage of clips from the film including Paul's monologue about his father and mother - s scene that's always been heart-wrenching, but takes on added emotional resonance in this biographical portrait as the "character" Brando plays repeats several "memories" which are virtually identical to the "real ones".

It knocks you flat on your ass - as does the whole film by how it shares the aforementioned approach through Brando's early years, his stardom, his adherence to the "method" and the brilliance of acting teacher Stella Adler, his "lost" years during the 60s in a string of flops in which he was scapegoated for their failure, his comeback period in the 70s, his activism with civil rights and Native American issues and his final period of laziness post-Apocalypse Now. Here, even Brando admits how it became all about the money. We even hear him confess how he demanded his character in The Formula be equipped with a hearing aid so the lines of the script could be fed to him as he repeated his dialogue, almost by rote.

Finally, we're led into the later stages of Brando's life when tragedy struck home big time and his children became involved in murder and drug abuse. We hear Brando's tapes both fearing and lamenting a repetition in his own life by engaging in the sins of his father, as a father. This is all juxtaposed with the harrowing news footage of Brando weeping over the deep misfortune of his children's actions, especially as they related to his own failure as a father.

Almost like a refrain or exclamatory narrative beat, we hear Brando talk about how he hired computer experts in the 80s to digitize his whole head as he delivered a variety of speeches from films, plays and literature as well as how he rendered every conceivable facial expression - not just for posterity, but in the event his strong belief that actors will become useless in the digital age comes to fruition and that he can live on, virtually, as an actor long after his death. The eerie dislocated, digitized head of Brando with a reverberating voice that's all his own, appears throughout the documentary.

If anything, though, the film ultimately acknowledges that Brando's gifts, which live on in his body of work, will provide far more immortality than the strange disembodied digital images which, one hopes, will never be used beyond the parameters of this stunning, loving and gorgeously crafted biographical documentary.

It moved me to tears.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: ***** 5 Stars

The Canadian Premiere of Listen To Me Marlon is at Hot Docs 2015. Info HERE.

HOT DOCS 2015: HOW TO CHANGE THE WORLD - Review By Greg Klymkiw ****

How To Change The World (2015)
Dir. Jerry Rothwell

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Preamble: A few things about Robert (Bob) Hunter that contribute, for me personally, to his legendary perch in Canadian history.

"If we wait for the meek to inherit the earth, there won't be anything left to inherit" - Robert Hunter

Robert (Bob) Hunter was many things. Mostly, I just always thought he was cool. And well, you'd kind of have to be that to have accomplished so much in so short a time (he died of cancer at age 63).

As a dyed-in-the-wool Winnipegger, I especially thought it was cool, given Robert Hunter's deep concern for Canada's Aboriginal people, that he was born in the City of St. Boniface which eventually amalgamated with all the wonky neighbourhood city-states along the Red, Assiniboine and Seine Rivers of Manitoba to become - you guessed it, Winnipeg.

All this rich land, which not only became the city we all know and hate/love (plus all points north-south-east-and-west) historically belonged to the Metis Nation, but was torn from their possession by the Canadian Government's land transfer scrip system which was virtually useless except to rich white guys who knew how to push it through the complicated bureaucracy to actually cash it in. The vast majority of uprooted Metis were starving, so they sold their scrip to the rich white guys, for pennies on the dollar.

Even more interesting to me was that Hunter's birthplace in St. Boniface ended up being the one community which contributed the most to Manitoba becoming (even now) Canada's largest French-speaking region outside of Quebec. Why? Many of the displaced Metis were also targets for violence because of the 1870 Louis Riel wars against the corrupt rich white guys of Winnipeg and the eastern power-brokers who held a vicelike grip upon the government of Canada. This resulted in a huge number of Metis forcing their Native heritage underground and bringing their French heritage to the fore and living in - you guessed it, St. Boniface.

His tenure as a columnist at the Winnipeg Tribune and Vancouver Sun was before my time. I didn't even become aware of him as a journalist until I moved to Toronto in the early 90s and began watching CITY-TV (when it actually had a real personality thanks to its eventually-departed head Moses Znaimer). Here, I began to enjoy the amazingly cool, almost Hunter S. Thompson-like "environmental reporter and commentator. I was soon compelled to begin reading his books wherein I discovered that he was Bob Hunter, the heart, soul and public face of the environmental group Greenpeace.

This, for me, was virtually cooler-than-cool and when he passed away in 2005, I was genuinely saddened that we'd lost him. Thankfully, this film now exists. It's not a biographical documentary of Robert (Bob) Hunter, but in many ways, it might as well be.



And now, the Film Review proper:

There were many things about Hunter I didn't know after all these years and I'm grateful to director Jerry Rothwell for his almost-epic-like motion picture documentary How To Change The World which presents a side of this great Canadian that was not only fresh to my already-admiring eyes, but kind of jettisons Hunter into some supreme inter-stellar glowing orb of coolness.

Rothwell poured over hundreds of 16mm rolls of film that had been canned and unopened since the 1970s. Seeing, pretty much before his very eyes, the visual history of the Greenpeace organization, Rothwell consulted with Hunter's colleagues, foes, conducting fresh interviews with all of them, blending the result of Herculean research and expertly selected and edited footage from the Greenpeace Archives. (The fact that Hunter was so brilliantly media-savvy pretty much accounts for this wealth of material even existing.)

What we get is the story of a respected counter-culture columnist who aligns himself with a motley assortment of friends and colleagues (most of them of the 60s/70s "hippie" persuasion) to head out on a boat in an attempt to stop nuclear testing on a remote island in the Pacific Ocean and then, with the same bunch, to go tearing after Russian sailors butchering whales up and down the coast of the Pacific Northwest. The campaigns continued and somewhere along the way, the movement of Greenpeace was formed.

With both the existing archival footage and the new interviews, Rothwell has painted an indelible portrait - not only of the key events in the movement, but the individuals themselves - as disparate a cast of characters you could ever imagine. What makes them cool is how different they are as people, but as such, they each bring individual qualities to the movement that had a symbiotic relationship - for a time. As is the won't of anything or anyone growing beyond initial beginnings, egos as well as legitimate desires/directions begin to rear their ugly heads and minor cracks in the "vessel" become tectonic plates, yielding high-Richter-scale fractures.

In addition to the dazzling filmmaking, I was swept away onto the high seas and weed-clouded back rooms of Greenpeace thanks to the perfectly selected and abundant readings of Bob Hunter's exceptional reads. Embodying Hunter is the magnificent character actor Barry Pepper who delivers us the man's words with the kind of emotion which goes so far beyond "narration". Pepper captures the soul of Hunter impeccably. It's a brilliant performance. (If anyone does a biopic of Hunter, Pepper is the MAN!!!

The first two-thirds of the movie is compulsive viewing. The first third, focusing upon seafaring derring-do is nail-bitingly thrilling. With Bob Hunter at the helm of some totally crazy-ass dangerous antics - like some mad, dope-smoking, Sterling-Hayden lookalike - Rothwell creates a veritable action picture on the high seas with an obsessive Captain Ahab targeting not whales, but the hunters of whales. (So much of the film is charged with a great selection of period hit songs and a gorgeous original score by Lesley Barber also.)

Who'd have thought environmental activism could be as thrilling as Patrick O'Brian's Aubrey-Maturin "Master and Commander" adventures? The middle section begins focusing on the leaks in the organizational battleship that became Greenpeace. Mixing in more derring-do with internal conflicts is easily as thrilling as the intrigue-elements of O'Brian's high-seas swashbucklers.

The final third of the film tends to fall by the wayside a touch. It's not Rothwell's doing, as that of - gasp - real life. There's a great deal of sadness and acrimony in this section of the film and part of me wishes that life didn't throw the kind of curve-balls that surprise your favourite batter at the plate into striking out. This is ultimately a minor quibble though, in light of the sheer force, power and entertainment value of the picture. What epics don't suffer from a sag or three? At least this one eventually builds to a note of well deserved and earned high notes and the movie finally packs a major one-two emotional punch. When this happens, tears might well be flowing amongst many and the lapses of real life will be fleeting, especially when you exit the cinema feeling, "Goddamn! That was one HELL of a good show!"

The Film Corner Rating: **** Four Stars

How To Change The World is making its Canadian Premiere at the 2015 edition of the Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival. Visit the Hot Docs website for dates, showtimes and tickets by clicking HERE.

GLEN CAMPBELL: I'LL BE ME - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Portrait of Alzheimer's & Artistry

In anticipation of the upcoming 2015 Toronto Hot Docs International Festival of Documentary Cinema, herewith is Greg Klymkiw's review of James Keach's poignant and powerful feature documentary Glen Campbell: I'll Be Me which details the effects of Alzheimer's Disease upon the legendary country and western star as he embarks upon a farewell tour. Released in Canada via VSC, the film is now playing at The Bloor Hot Docs Cinema and opening in Vancouver May 11, 2015 at the VanCity with further playdates to follow.

Glen Campbell: I'll Be Me (2014)
Dir. James Keach
Starring: Glen Campbell, Kim Campbell, Ashley Campbell, Cal Campbell, Shannon Campbell, Jay Leno, John Carter Cash, Sheryl Crow, Steve Martin, Paul McCartney, Bill Clinton, Nancy Pelosi, Bruce Springsteen

There's always the debate in one's mind with documentary cinema as to the balance and/or separation between "artistry" and "subject matter". Some films within the genre work in spite of less-than-exemplary artistic/stylistic vision when the subject matter is so compelling that it supersedes all aesthetic considerations. Glen Campbell: I'll Be Me could almost fall squarely into this critical rumination, but the fact that it is a fairly straightforward document of extraordinary events, still allows it worthy consideration as solid, if not genuinely great filmmaking. The fact that director James Keach expertly focuses upon the task at hand is hardly a reason to dismiss the picture as art of a very high order. Besides, not every documentary film can, should and/or will be Malik Bandjellou's Searching for Sugar Man. Keach's powerful and poignant work, in spite (or because) of its veracity, delivers the goods and then some.

It doesn't get more harrowing, touching, uplifting and yes, even downright entertaining than this. When the legendary country and western star Glen Campbell was diagnosed with the extreme progression of dementia known as Alzheimer's Disease (wherein memories eventually fade to less-than-zero), he not only recorded new material, but embarked upon what would, even under normal circumstances be a gruelling Farewell Concert Tour. He also agreed to allow actor-director James Keach unfettered access to virtually every aspect of this undertaking and, in fact, his life. The desire was, on one hand, for Campbell to surround himself with family, friends and colleagues to do what he loved doing best, and on the other, to provide an important document of the effects of the disease so that the film, album and tour could be an important tool in creating far more support for the research necessary to attack this horrendous disease.

The resulting film will not only appeal to Campbell's multitude of fans, but anyone and everyone who has either suffered with the debilitating effects of the disease upon loved ones, but the general populace at large. The film succeeds more than admirably in all these respects; it's a tremendous concert picture and behind-the-scenes look at mounting this challenging event in the face of a horrendous affliction.

Utilizing concert footage, new interviews, sequences at home and in clinics, plus a choice selection of archival footage, Glen Campbell: I'll Be Me succeeds as one of the best documentaries about the creative process ever made.

We see intimate sequences with Campbell and his gorgeous, devoted wife Kim, watching home movie footage in which he continually expresses confusion as to what and whom he's watching while she patiently reminds him of what these key events in his personal and professional life are. There is an astonishing visit to Washington, D.C. wherein Campbell and his smart, total-babe and mega-talented daughter present a plea for more federal funding of Alzheimer's research. There are two very sweet interviews - one with Steve Martin recounting his experiences as a junior writer on the hit TV variety series "The Glen Campbell Goodtime Hour" and the other with Bruce Springsteen, not only extolling Campbell's artistic virtues, but revealing his own personal experiences with seeing close loved ones being afflicted with Alzheimer's. One of the most alternately moving and hilarious moments is when Paul McCartney visits Campbell backstage to tell him how much he loves him while Campbell looks at the former Beatle with a bemusedly blank expression as in, "Who is this guy, again?" and essentially, though very politely regarding McCartney, as if he were some anonymous member of the singer's humungous public fan base.

It's the music, however, that soars and even more extraordinary are the words of shock from any number of leading doctors in the field of Alzheimer's as they express how someone at Campbell's juncture in the disease should not be so skilled and downright brilliant when he's on stage performing live. Campbell transforms from the addled, befuddled old man backstage and at home into a graceful senior practitioner of musicianship when facing adoring audiences. Campbell does prove to be "un-rehearsable", a bit too chatty and occasionally confused when the cue cards for lyrics are not where he expects them to be. Not that these matter to the live audiences captured on film, nor for that matter to us as we're watching the movie - they all seem an integral part of Campbell's appeal, showmanship and unwavering joy in performing.

And damn! Sometimes it's easy to forget what an astounding guitar player, entertainer and songwriter Campbell was and, certainly during the time of the film's shooting, still is. Campbell even displays a common tic amongst Alzheimer's patients when they're feeding on positive sensory vibes and once it's identified as such, we're even more moved and transported to a kind of grace when we see it as he performs. (One of the most astonishing and heartrending scenes has Campbell on guitar performing "Duelling Banjos" with his brilliant, radiant daughter Ashley on banjo - star Daddy and star-in-the-making Daughter - it's pure movie magic.)

Yes, this is a straightforward document, but as such, it's an ideal and skilful approach to material which needs no stylistic directorial flourishes, but rather showcases a filmmaker intent upon capturing rare truths. My hat is off to James Keach for his unerring, unwavering eye.

What a wonderful picture. I'm so glad it exists and look forward to seeing it again and again.

So too, will you.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: **** 4-Stars

Glen Campbell: I'll Be Me is a VSC release currently playing at The Bloor Hot Docs Cinema in Toronto, to be followed by added playdates across Canada including the VanCity Theatre in Vancouver.

MATT SHEPARD IS A FRIEND OF MIND - Review By Greg Klymkiw - He's a friend to us all

Matt Shepard
is a Friend of Mine (2015)
Dir. Michele Josue

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Michele Josue manages to pull of the near impossible. She not only tells us a very personal story about her friendship with the sweet, brilliant young man named in the film's title, she constructs a biographical documentary of his life, whilst etching an indelible cinematic portrait of his unique spirit and character. Josue is so successful juggling these elements that I left the cinema wanting to be Matt Shepard's friend too. In fact, I can't imagine anyone seeing this film and not feeling likewise.

What a great guy!

In spite of the fact that this is a film, it uncannily manages to do what only the best cinema can do by using all the gifts and wonders the medium can bring to bear upon a subject and plunge us deep into its very essence. Matt Shepard might well be Josue's friend, but she's neither self-tub-thumping the fact, nor is she hoarding this beautiful human being all to herself.

Matt Shepard is, indeed, a friend to all of us.

First and foremost, because he is a human being and we're given this opportunity to get to know him. Granted, it's a mere ninety minutes of running time, but Josue expertly weaves home movies, photographs, interviews with friends, family and teachers, Matt's private writings and his vast correspondence with all those dear to him. It seems, no stone is left unturned.

Sadly, none of us will ever really get to know him, but Josue's created the next best thing.

Josue begins with what ended Matt's life. On Oct. 12, 1998 in Laramie, Wyoming, the 21-year-old Matt Shepard was beaten, tortured, tied to a fence and left for dead. For all intents and purposes, he might as well have been. He died soon after in hospital. A young life, so full of promise, was cut short by a senseless act rooted in hatred.

Matt Shepard was murdered by two hate-filled young men because he was gay. Even harder to believe is the news footage of supposed Christians parading homophobic, hate-spewing filth on placards and hurling anti-Gay invective from their mouths when Matt Shepard's life was being celebrated at his funeral.

In death, however, Matt Shepard became a symbol, an emblem, a trademark if you will, for the anti-hatred lobby. Josue's film does not ignore this important element of Matt's legacy and weaves it into the fabric of the film superbly. Still, though, we come back to what Josue does so well - she gives us Matt in as much glory as possible.

We learn about his charmed childhood, his loving family, his delightful antics in childhood like leaving pretty stones in the mailboxes of his neighbours, dressing up as Dolly Parton for Halloween and always being the centre of attention - not that he demanded it at all, but rather, he was such a dazzling, compelling young man that he naturally commanded it. We're privy to his private struggles with coming to grips with his sexuality, to be sure, but that's merely one element of seeing a young man blossom as he searches for everything he's all about. His love for family, friends and travel seemed limitless. His sense of humour and sensitivity unparalleled. His time during an American boarding school in Switzerland becomes almost magical. Sure, we're in the Alps. That's damn magical, just as it is when we follow him on trips with his friends throughout Europe. However, what is magic, real magic, is his love for his friends and theirs for him.

If anything, the magic of this film is love and most of all, the love Matt Shepard gave.

There is darkness in his life. Vacationing with his school chums in Morocco turned into a nightmare that never seemed to leave him when he was beaten and gang-raped in a dark Marrakesh alleyway by six thugs. Here, his life did indeed change. He began to carry himself inwardly, like a victim. He kept his pain to himself. He stopped his activities in the theatre and became a haunted shell of who he once was.

Most of all, he wanted to come home. This meant returning to his home state of Wyoming where he enrolled in college in the small city of Laramie. Here, he seemed to begin to find himself again. Here, he was at home. Here, was where Matt Shepard was kidnapped, beaten and tortured to death for being gay.

The anger and frustration one feels just watching this play out seems almost incalculable - even as a mere viewer of a film. One can't even begin to imagine the feelings of Matt's family and friends and by extension, the whole community of mankind that expressed and felt the deepest shock over someone being murdered simply out of hatred. Josue nails it here, though. She introduces an element into the film in its final third that presents a deeply harrowing, haunting, moving and finally spiritual sequence which forces all who watch it to look into the mirrors that reflect their own souls.

This is one great documentary. Try to see it in a movie theatre with the fellowship of other human beings. You'll all be soaring.

Matt Shepard is a Friend of Mine begins its theatrical Canadian run via VFRPR at the Magic Lantern Carlton Cinemas in Toronto February 20th, 2015, with additional cities and screens to follow across the country. Judy and Dennis Shepard, Matt Shepard's Mom and Dad to host select opening weekend screenings. If it's not yet playing in your city, DEMAND IT! Matthew's memory has been enshrined in the good work of the Matthew Shepard Foundation and in the passage of the The Matthew Shepard and James Byrd, Jr., Hate Crimes Prevention Act of 2009. Be sure to read Remarks by President Obama at a Reception Commemorating the Enactment of the Hate Crimes Prevention Act by clicking HERE.

In Canada - BUY GAY THEMED FILMS HERE, EH!

In USA and the rest of the world BUY GAY THEMED films HERE

ALTMAN - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Legendary Ron Mann serves up Legendary Robert Altman

The idea that there are people who have not seen all or most of  Robert Altman's films fills me with sadness and EMPTINESS.

Altman (2014)
Dir. Ron Mann
Starring: Robert Altman, Christine Altman, Kathryn Reed Altman, Robert Reed Altman, Stephen Altman, Michael Murphy, Paul Thomas Anderson, Robin Williams, James Caan, Keith Carradine, Elliott Gould, Philip Baker Hall, Sally Kellerman, Julianne Moore, Lily Tomlin

Review By Greg Klymkiw

It's the most, about the most, by the most.

Allow me to elucidate.

Robert Altman is one of the ten greatest American directors of all time. I furthermore insist that Robert Altman is one of the ten most important American artists of all time.

If anyone has any doubts about my lofty proclamations, they need to view Altman, the new picture by one of the ten greatest doc directors in North America, Ron Mann, who's also the most astonishing archivist-as-storyteller-as-director in the world - of, like, all time. If you don't believe me, just eyeball Mann's dazzling array of cooler-than-cool contributions to the art of cinema like Comic Book Confidential, Twist, Tales of the Rat Fink, Grass and Go Further.

Mann's herewith delivered a genuinely important bio-doc of the genius maverick director and I'll, uh, go further (pun only intended upon rereading this piece for editing) and happily admit that Altman is a picture that exceeded all my expectations by being the most perfect film biography of Robert Altman that I could ever want. You see, there are three things that always drive me up a wall in most bio-docs about artists and Mann avoids all of them.

They are as follows:

1. No eggheads telling me why Altman is important. I know already.

2. No bullshit celebrity interviews with adoring actors being actors and acting out their feelings about why they loved, or even hated, working with Altman. Who needs it? Besides, Mann gives us something a hell of a lot better.

3. The movie includes just enough biographical information that doesn't have to do with his filmmaking career. What's included on this front is there, to be sure and from the most ideal perspective. What isn't, is inadvertently, or perhaps, intentionally addressed by virtue of how Mann has so exquisitely sculpted the film. And you know, if I wanted to know more about Altman's non-film-related life, there are plenty of places to find it. There's no reason for any such details to clutter this sleek, impactful 96 minutes.

Mann has always been a master of research and he continues this tradition by painstakingly scouring every available visual and audio interview that Altman ever gave and ingeniously selecting just the right nuggets so that we get his biography in his own words. Mann supplements the filmmaking journey with poignant interviews with Altman's family (and private home movie footage) to reveal the more intimate aspects of Altman's life. He takes us through Altman's entire filmography from early screenwriting efforts, short films, industrial films, his first feature film (that I genuinely love, but Altman professes to hate), his brilliant television directing career (wherein he addressed issues of import that drove his sponsors and bosses crazy) and then, through each and every film he ever made - replete with generous film clips and terrific tales of butting heads with the studios, inventing whole new cinematic storytelling techniques and ultimately settling into a variety of independent modes of production which eventually yielded one of his richest periods prior to his honorary Oscar and death.

One of the most inventive aspects of Mann's approach is to offer up a definition of the word "Altmanesque" and then assemble what might be one of the most impressive lineups of guest stars for any such film and present each and every one of them in exquisitely composed and gorgeously lit shots, reminiscent of the Vittorio Storaro-photographed "witness" sections of Warren Beatty's Reds. Instead of submitting us to tried and true interviews with his witnesses, Mann asks each and every one of them one question - to define "Altmanesque". The answers range from almost-predictably mundane or obvious to exquisitely ideal and in the case of the late, great Robin Williams, short, sweet and perhaps what might be the ultimate final word on what it means to be "Altmanesque."

Each one of these sequences are astutely inserted throughout the picture as intros to the various segments of Altman's life as a filmmaker and indeed, act as marvellous bookends to each section.

The biography proper begins, ever-so briefly, with Altman's life in the military. It is here where I'd hoped the film might elaborate and, indeed, occasionally touch upon throughout the recounting of his filmmaking life. While it's not a hard and fast rule, I've always felt that some of the greatest American films and filmmakers have brought a wealth of life experience to their work, and none more so than those who experienced the horrors of war.

Given Altman's early Jesuit education (nothing can beat this in my humble opinion), his turn in military school and, at age 18, flying in over fifty WWII bombing missions seems to fit his talent for filmmaking like a glove - especially in terms of the subject matter he was drawn to and the various techniques of naturalism he either outright invented or expanded upon.

I've often placed Altman in the same sphere as John Ford, George Stevens, Frank Capra, Sam Peckinpah, Samuel Fuller and Oliver Stone, et al - those men who were directly exposed to the horrors of war in a wholly American context. It's an experience that led to films, from all of them, that will not only last forever, but continually broke with cinematic storytelling conventions. While these thoughts occasionally crossed my mind in the early going of Altman, they soon dissipated as Mann began taking us through Altman's filmography, including, but not limited to MASH, McCabe and Mrs. Miller, Thieves Like Us, The Long Goodbye and Nashville. These are films that will live forever because they capture the essence of humanity in ways that most pictures never do and it's not just Altman's groundbreaking techniques at play here, but something far deeper and rooted in a perspective that's very personal and wends its way in to the work itself.

At the end of the day, the very structure of Mann's film addresses this in a subtle, but very real way.

Though I'd not like to dissuade anyone from seeing Altman for any reason whatsoever, I do think it's important, if not even incumbent upon its viewers to have experienced Robert Altman's important canon. To think that anyone has not seen all, or most of his work fills me with a strange kind of sadness, and, if you will, emptiness. Altman is a film that will no doubt inspire whole new generations to seek out the man's films. This can't be discounted in any way, shape or form.

I will declare, though, that knowing, loving and feeling like my own life would have been incomplete without the joy of growing up with Robert Altman, is the kind of added value that allows the deepest core of Mann's film to move me beyond words.

In that sense though, Mann's film is, in and of itself, the true added value.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: **** 4-Stars

Altman is in limited theatrical release in Canada via FilmsWeLike, including a run at Toronto's TIFF Bell Lightbox. In America, it can currently be seen via Epix. It will eventually be broadcast in Canada via TMN and Movie Central.

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TO BE TAKEI - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Kuchar Bros. Film Biographer Jennifer M. Kroot serves up superb doc on Star Trek's Mr. Sulu @TIFF BellLightbox followed by a DVD Release via Anchor Bay Entertainment Canada

NOTE: The Film Corner's Star Ratings will now appear at the end of the review.

One of Takei's favourite movies as a kid was Errol Flynn
in the classic swashbuckler The Adventures of Robin Hood.

During a celebrity roast, Mr. Takei carves
William Shatner up like a RUMP ROAST.

To Be Takei (2014)
Dir. Jennifer M. Kroot

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Most of us know George Takei as Mr. Sulu the stalwart Asian helmsman of the multi-racial S.S. Enterprise crew on Gene Roddenberry's Star Trek, the immortal science fiction television series (and its subsequent blockbuster feature film spin-offs). In recent years, however, Takei has become a symbol of Asian actors who broke out of the offensive stereotyping American drama prescribed for our Asian brothers and sisters. Maybe most important of all, Takei has been one of the world's most tireless champions for Gay Rights and in particular, Gay marriage. As Star Trek is surely the greatest television series ever produced, Mr. Takei is one of America's most important actors and activists. With this in mind, it's fortunate for Takei and audiences all over the world, that his documentary biographer is the extraordinary Jennifer M. Kroot who studied under the late, great filmmaker George Kuchar and went on to direct It Came From Kuchar, the ultimate big-screen love letter to her mentor George and his brilliant brother Mike - two filmmakers who defined 20th century cinema.

Kroot's sophomore effort proves she's no one-trick pony and has carved a lovely niche for herself as one of the medium's best documentary biographers and, in fact, can be considered as one of the foremost filmmakers working in America today. To Be Takei is absolutely joyous - a funny, touching and compelling portrait of a great, great human being - so much so that you'll only be disappointed that the picture eventually ends. Her first-rate DNA-hardwired filmmaking prowess is responsible for leaving us wanting more, in all the best ways. The movie is as close as we're likely to get to actually being able to mainline Takei as if he was the purest heroine. And yes, she's chosen an ideal subject, but her skill and artistry as a filmmaker is what ultimately raises both Takei and the film to stellar heights. By focusing so resolutely on his achievements with all the aplomb of a master storyteller, Kroot has made a movie that not only dazzles, informs and entertains, but is - without question - as important a film as any of us really want all of our film experiences to be. Such is the living legacy that is George Takei.

At 77 or 30, George Takei is the epitome of HOT!

And such is the consummate artistry of Jennifer M. Kroot that she spins the Takei yarn in the context of 20th Century American history. If you ever wanted a portrait of pre-War life amongst Asian Americans, you'll get it here. If you've yearned for a deeply moving and personal exploration into America's racist policies of interning Japanese Americans in concentration camps upon the attack of Pearl Harbor, you've got it. If you're interested in the childhood memories of life in such a concentration camp from the erudite, detailed perspective of a 77-year-old man, Kroot delivers the goods. For a portrait of a young Asian actor finding his place in an American Cinema replete with disgraceful stereotyping, look no further. If you've a hankering for an illuminating look, through the eyes of said actor, at American television and film history from the 50s to the present, To Be Takei offers a riveting, informative window into the last half-century and beyond. As well, the themes of burgeoning sexuality in a repressed America, living in the closet, coming out of the closet (when the dough-headed, at-the-time California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger vetoed the state's same-sex marriage legislation) and a fervent commitment to activism, fill the film to overflowing.

If, perhaps most movingly of all, bearing witness to the deep love between two wonderful human beings, Takei and his spouse Brad Altman, you'll discover it here.

And then some.

The aforementioned to-die-for grocery list of sumptuous morsels to tantalize, tickle and touch, doesn't even include Takei's brilliant use of social media, his stellar political career, his unwavering support of public transit, his longtime on-air creative relationship with the insanely brilliant shock-jock Howard Stern, his open and generous relationship with fans and his astounding, obsessive and triumphant production of Allegiance, a musical (!!!!!) about the internment of Japanese-Americans.

Hell, if sainthood wasn't tied so inextricably to the evils of Catholicism, George Takei would be an ideal candidate for such lofty canonization and it's this very thing, Takei's importance and impact upon 20th Century (and beyond) culture, which is what makes Kroot's film so damn terrific. There's no need to provide a warts-and-all look at this great man. There are, so to speak, no warts. There is, however, considerable conflict in his tale which Kroot manages ever-so-deftly to provide a stirring narrative.

dif tor heh smusma - WORDS TO LIVE BY

One of the coolest revelations in Kroot's film, at least to me (being the inveterate John Wayne lover that I am) is the regard with which Takei speaks of "The Duke" giving him a juicy starring role in his epic blockbuster war extravaganza The Green Berets (you can read my own in-depth review of the film HERE). It's a movie I love deeply, in spite of its clearly skewed politics, but the fact remains that Wayne, like it or not, broke incredible ground by choosing to make a Vietnam War film at the height of a war that was, and still is, one of America's many dark hours.

That said, seeing this reasonably extended segment in Kroot's film reminded me of how important it is for artists - especially those with "pull" - to always seek out that which is as audacious and unheard of as Wayne did. To not only give Takei a rich role in a high-profile film suggests Wayne's acumen as a filmmaker, but reminds me of how many such individuals, including Takei, pushed all manner of limits - artistically and politically. As well, Kroot's film contrasts this with the horrendous use of Takei in a stupid Jerry Lewis comedy which moronically fell back upon the racist stereotyping of Asians. Takei's regret in this regard, is deeply and profoundly moving.

Needless to say, Takei's regard for Wayne is also touching as is his respect for the visionary genius of Gene Roddenberry to realize that a futuristic space voyage on the scale depicted in Star Trek would, in fact, have to be populated with a multicultural crew.

Kroot herself populates the film with a multitude of faces, places and media to relate this great story. Using archival clips and photos, as well as a variety of all-new interviews (expertly handled, by the way), she boldly takes us to places no documentary biographer has dared to go by affording herself with all the available tools anyone might use, but does so in a fashion that's so seamless, we never feel weighted down by tropes, but instead are veritably cascaded on a journey that takes us into Takei's heart and mind, and in so doing delivers a portrait of life, politics, art and history.

Some of the more delightful interviews come from expected and not-so-expected places. The talented young actor John Cho (the current Sulu and co-star of the hilarious Harold and Kumar films) discusses the childhood thrills he (and his family) experienced whenever Takei came on screen. Sex columnist Dan Savage points out the obvious - how unbelievably HOT Takei is. And perhaps the most literate and heartfelt thoughts come from the great actor/director Leonard Nimoy who shared the Star Trek stage with Takei as everyone's favourite Vulcan, Mr. Spock.

And in the words of Mr. Spock, Kroot has fashioned a film that will ensure that George Takei will "Live long and prosper" - for now and forever.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: *****
5-Stars, Highest Film Corner Accolade

To Be Takei is platforming theatrically across North America with a flagship engagement at the majestic TIFF Bell Lightbox in Toronto, to be followed by a massive home entertainment release via Anchor Bay Entertainment Canada and Anchor Bay on October 7, 2014. Feel free to order directly from the Amazon links below.

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