THE FILM CORNER CANADIAN FILM AWARDS 2014 - The very best in Canadian Cinema - Many of these films were first unleashed at such film festivals and venues as TIFF 2014, TIFF Bell Lightbox, Hot Docs 2014, Toronto After Dark 2014, FantAsia 2014, FNC 2014, BITS 2014, NIFF 2014, The Royal Cinema and the Magic Lantern Carlton Cinemas

Greg Klymkiw picks The Film Corner's Top 21 Documentaries of 2014 - Stellar Year 4 DOCS - Many of these films were first unleashed at such film festivals and venues as TIFF 2014, TIFF Bell Lightbox, Hot Docs 2014, Toronto After Dark 2014, FantAsia 2014, FNC 2014, BITS 2014, NIFF 2014, Planet Out 2014, The Royal Cinema and the Magic Lantern Carlton Cinemas

Documentary cinema in 2014 was so powerful that it seems almost ludicrous to even attempt a list honouring only 10 movies, so I've decided to include a few categories here that are comprised of a variety of films within them which I've chosen to bundle together and furthermore present my picks as the Top 21 Documentaries of 2014. The list will be in alphabetical order by category and title.

Documentaries on the Artistic Process:

Greg Klymkiw, presents the The Film Corner Awards (TFCA) in this the year of Our Lord 2014 - Many of these films were first unleashed at such film festivals and venues as TIFF 2014, TIFF Bell Lightbox, Hot Docs 2014, Toronto After Dark 2014, FantAsia 2014, FNC 2014, BITS 2014, NIFF 2014, The Royal Cinema and the Magic Lantern Carlton Cinemas

THE FILM CORNER AWARDS (TFCA) 2014, 
AS SELECTED BY THE REV. GREG KLYMKIW

This will be the first in a series of year-end Film Corner round-ups of cinema in 2014. Below, you will find the citations of excellence from me, Greg Klymkiw, in the form of my annual The Film Corner Awards (TFCA) for 2014. The most interesting observation is that ALL of these films were first screened within the context of major international film festivals which is further proof of their importance in presenting audiences with the very best that cinema has to offer whilst most mainstream exhibition chains are more interested in presenting refuse on multi-screens of the most ephemeral kind. All the citations here came from films unleashed at the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF 2014), the Toronto After Dark Film Festival (TADFF 2014), Hot Docs 2014, Montreal's 2014 FantAsia International Film Festival and the 2014 Montreal Nouveau Cinema Festival (FNC 2014). In Canada, only two of the films cited have been released theatrically within the hardly-visionary, downright lazy mega-plex chain Cineplex Entertainment and even those films are being allowed to play on a limited number of screens in an even-more limited number of cities while ludicrous numbers of awful movies are draining screen time at the aforementioned chain's big boxes. It's not as if all the films the chain allows to hog screens are doing numbers to justify this combination of piggishness and laziness. Keep your eyes open, though. The films cited here are all astounding BIG-SCREEN experiences, which will hopefully find BIG-SCREEN exhibition before being relegated to less-than-ideal home entertainment venues. And now, here goes, The Film Corner Awards (TFCA 2014) as selected by your most Reverend Greg Klymkiw. Included are brief quotes from my original reviews  and links to the full-length reviews from the past year (just click on the title).

American cinema, more than anything, has always exemplified the American Dream. Almost in response to this, director David Zellner with his co-writer brother Nathan, have created Kumiko The Treasure Hunter, one of the most haunting, tragic and profoundly moving explorations of mental illness within the context of dashed hopes and dreams offered by the magic of movies and the wide-open expanse of a country teeming with opportunity and riches.

Best Feature Film
Kumiko The Treasure Hunter

DOC OF THE DEAD - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Ho-Hum feature-length doc on zombies a lame DVD extra at best.

How can a self-respecting documentary purporting to be the ultimate of its
kind, not deal with the astonishing zombie output from poverty row studios
that gave us classics like KING OF THE ZOMBIES with Mantan Moreland?

Doc of the Dead (2014) Dir. Alexandre O. Philippe *

Review By Greg Klymkiw

I have no idea who this movie is for.

By purporting to be the ultimate feature-length documentary about the zombie phenomenon in popular culture, it sets itself up for the big fall. This woefully inadequate picture fails miserably on all counts. It doesn't even cut the mustard as a glorified DVD extra which it most closely resembles. On the zombie movie front, it includes nothing any self-respecting genre geek wouldn't already know (leaving out tons of important references) and worst of all, meandering all-over-the-place when it leaves the movies behind and delves into the cultural aspects of zombies.

The historical and anthropological notions of zombie-ism (eg. voodoo and its relationship to zombies in Haitian culture and the like) gets short shrift in favour of ludicrous notions about apocalyptic zombie visions coming out of 9/11. Spending way too much time dealing with fan-based loser-dom is also beyond the pale. If the movie is not just supposed to be about zombie movies, then sadly, it doesn't even begin to the scratch the surface of what would have been truly fascinating. Never mind voodoo, what about Santeria, somnambulism and other weirdness in the real world that are tied ever-so fascinatingly and inextricably into the whole fabric of living dead activities?

As far as its attention to zombies in the movies, Doc of the Dead pretty much blows chunks. It spends far too little time on early zombie movies of the White Zombie variety and commits the ultimate sin by proclaiming it as the first to delve into the "living dead" when such elements like corpse reanimation and (yup, my favourite) somnambulism run rampant through silent cinema (The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, anyone?). The doc indulges in an equally egregious blasphemy by skipping over a wide swath of zombie or zombie-like elements in 40s, 50s and early 60s movies, especially some truly great work from the poverty row studios and independents. It doesn't delve deeply (if at all) into the Italian, Spanish, Asian, Mexican and even Soviet zombie cinema until finally settling into the birth of the contemporary zombie movie phenomena via George A. Romero's 1968 classic Night of the Living Dead and onwards.

Not that Romero's film is a slouch in that department. I first saw it as a kid on a 16mm film print at the age of ten and it not only scared the living shit out of me, but it holds up to this day as one of the creepiest horror movies of all time. My major quibble is just how much zombie material in cinema Doc of the Dead ignores.

Of course, it's always fun to listen to irascible old masters like George Romero, Tom Savini and Bruce Campbell talk at length and happily, the movie doesn't skimp in this direction. I could, however, have used less footage from panel discussions and I found the whole fast zombie versus slow zombie and infection versus reanimated corpses debates, deathly dull - wearing out its welcome to distraction.

I could also have used less of Simon (Shaun of the Dead) Pegg. I love the man's movie, but his manner of addressing the subject annoyingly wavers twixt self-serious and tongue-in-cheek and proves to be more bothersome than insightful. I pretty much even objected to dealing with the "World War Z" phenomenon, especially considering that the film version ranks as the worst zombie movie of all time.

And really, I've always had no use for the knot-headed fans who doll up in their zombie finery and engage in zombie parades (or zombie walks as they're most often referred to). I'm sorry the movie even bothers with them. If I wanted to attend a Star Trek convention on film (but with zombies instead of Kirk and Spock lookalikes), I'd probably be in the market for a cheap razor and hot bath.

Life, even after death, seems a tad too short for this movie. I had to see it. You don't.

Doc of the Dead is in theatrical release via Kinosmith.

WHITEY: THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA V. JAMES J. BULGER - Review By Greg Klymkiw

A modern masterpiece of chilling criminal shenanigans by Master filmmaker Joe Berlinger is now playing at the Hot Docs Bloor Cinema via Video Services Corp. (VSC) DARE NOT MISS IT ON THE BIG SCREEN!

Alcatraz Mugshot of Boston Mob Boss Whitey Bulger

Whitey: The United States of America V. James J. Bulger
Dir. Joe Berlinger (2014) *****

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Movies seldom open with the kind of chilling first few minutes that Joe Berlinger's new picture delivers. Stephen Rakes, a gentle white haired teddy bear of a man speaks with a born and bred South Boston accent - the tail-end "r" becomes the telltale "ah", "ing" is always the contraction "'in" and the letter "o", a slightly elongated "aahh". His first few words are an immediately identifiable amalgam of long-ago-lost hope and sadness:

"30 years ago my wife and I purchased a liquor licence and we had the liquor store up and runnin' by Christmas. We poured our heart and soul into it."

A young couple's dream come true becomes a nightmare.

Then lo and behold I gets a knock on my door one night. I'm at the house and my wife is down at the liquor store workin'. And there's Kevin Weeks and Whitey Bulger at the door. . . what the hell did they want? He [Whitey] says 'Ya gotta problem.' I says, 'What problem?' He says, 'Listen, we were hired to kill you. . . you gotta understand, the other liquor stores, they hired us to kill you. . . but what we're gonna do instead of that is we're gonna become your partners.'

Deadly tools of the trade

I says, 'No, you're not becomin' my partners.' And Bulger's just starin' at me and he's grindin' his teeth: 'You don't understand, we're takin' the fuckin' liquor store.' I says, 'It's not for sale.' [Then he says] 'I'll fuckin' kill you. I'll stab you and then I'll kill you.' And then they pulled out a gun and I was like, 'Holy Fuck'. They picked up my kid, my daughter's only a year old. He says, 'It'd be terrible for this kid to grow up without a Father.'"

Stephen Rakes Imitates Whitey Bulger

From here, we're slam-bang even deeper into one of the most harrowing crime pictures ever made. This is no drama, however, but it's certainly imbued with a compulsive narrative expertly unfurled by ace documentary filmmaker Berlinger, co-director with Bruce Sinofsky of the classic West Memphis Three trilogy: Paradise Lost: The Child Murders at Robin Hood Hills (1996) Paradise Lost 2: Revelations (2000) Paradise Lost 3: Purgatory (2011) and his powerful solo effort Crude (that exposed Chevron and its part in destroying the health and lives of tens of thousands of Ecuadorians when a huge chunk of the Rain Forest was irretrievably polluted by oil drilling).

Focusing on the extraordinary trial of Whitey Bulger, Berlinger's new film film works on several levels. First and foremost, it's a savage indictment of the extent to which the F.B.I.'s involvement in Bulger's crime kingdom went far over the line and, in fact, assisted with his reign of terror. Secondly, Berlinger has seemingly unfettered access to archival footage, F.B.I. surveillance film, the prosecution and defence teams, key witnesses (including Bulger's trusty right hand, killer Kevin Weeks) and the myriad of Bulger's victims. Finally, the picture superbly, nerve-shreddingly yields the shocking rags-to-riches rise of Bulger - an epic, Scorsese-like crime thriller presented with the rat-a-tat-tat of a 30s Warner Bros' Slavko Vorkapitch/Robert Wise-edited Gangster movie montages and a kind of jack-hammering "News On The March" coldcock to the face.

Now this is filmmaking!

The picture leaves you breathlessly agog at the utter brutality and sordid corruption of a system that allowed a monster like Bulger to get away with his crimes for so long. The human factor, as represented by Bulger's victims, is often heartbreaking to the point where one is moved to tears. Even more stunning is that Berlinger followed the convoluted trial for so long and with such dogged persistence, that we, the filmmaker and a friend of a key witness are actually present for the sickening on-camera revelation that a victim of Bulger's evil is rubbed out before he gets a chance to testify.

Bulger's kingdom of crime lasted 30 years without a single indictment thanks to the corruption of America's Federal Bureau of Investigation. It's a blight upon the institutional crime fighting apparatus of a government long notorious for looking the other way when it served the most nefarious needs for both individuals to feather their own nests and to shield a country fraught with pure evil in its highest echelons of power and supposed enforcement.

Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity, indeed.

As far as I'm concerned, Whitey: The United States of America V. James J. Bulger already has masterpiece status affixed to it and will, no doubt remain a classic of great American cinema long after all of us have gone from this Earth. It's what cinema should be - it's for the ages.

Whitey: The United States of America V. James J. Bulger is now playing at The Bloor Hot Docs Cinema via the visionary Video Services Corp. (VSC). For further information about playmates, showtimes and tickets, please contact the Hot Docs website HERE. The film's international premiere was held at Hot Docs 2014 after its world premiere at Sundance.

Here is a lovely selection of VSC (Video Service Corp.) titles you buy directly from the links below, and in so doing, contribute to the ongoing maintenance of The Film Corner:

The 10 BEST FEATURES @ Hot Docs 2014 as proclaimed by The Film Corner's Paragon of Taste: Greg Klymkiw

The Film Corner's 10 Best Feature Films at Hot Docs 2014 (in alphabetical order)

By Greg Klymkiw

ART AND CRAFT: The stuff movies (and by extension, dreams) are made of. This is an engaging portrait of an artist as an old man, but not just any garden variety artist, but a sweet, committed, meticulous and gentle craftsman of forgeries.

THE BOY FROM GEITA: The legendary cinematographer and filmmaker Vic Sarin explores the dark side of the human spirit (the murder of albinos in Tanzania) which ultimately yields a tale of profound and deep compassion.

THE CONDEMNED: There have been many documentaries about prison life, but almost none of them are produced with the kind of eye for cinematic artistry this portrait of incarceration in Russia's Taiga is imbued with.

THE ENGINEER: A forensic criminologist tracks down and exhumes bodies of the disappeared in El Salvador's gang wars. The bravery and fortitude of its filmmakers yield a superbly wrought picture focusing on America's heinous legacy.

GIUSEPPE MAKES A MOVIE: Ed Wood + John Waters = Giuseppe Andrews. Detroit Rock City director Adam Rifkin captures the workings of a genuine underground filmmaker.

LOVE ME: The world of mail-order brides in Ukraine is the focus of Jonathon Narducci's thorough and affecting film that focuses on a group of Western men looking for love. Narducci does so with impeccable skill and movie-making savvy.

PINE RIDGE: The Hearts and Minds that soar above Wounded Knee are the focus of this expert blend of Direct Cinema with poetic dollops of Cinéma vérité which explores daily life of the youth of the Oglala Lakota Nation.

THE SECRET TRIAL 5: The legacy of Canada's thinly-veiled fascists is revealed in this chilling, important documentary detailing the unconstitutional incarceration of men because of the colour of their skin.

UKRAINE IS NOT A BROTHEL: Kitty Green's brave, inspiring and often disturbing look at the patriarchy of Ukraine and a group of young women who comprise "Femen", a group of feminist activists with an unorthodox approach to protest.

WHITEY: THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA V. JAMES J. BULGER: One of the most harrowing crime docs ever made: a compulsive, expertly unfurled narrative of brutal Boston gangster Whitey Bulger.

LOVE AND ENGINEERING - Review By Greg Klymkiw - HOT DOCS 2014 - If Science be the food of love, play on.

Love and Engineering (2014) ***1/2
Dir. Tonislav Hristov
Writ.Prod. Kaarle Aho

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Todor, Tuomas, Joost and Andon are four men at the top of their game. They have devoted virtually every waking hour over many years to be the best that they can be. Their hard work, strength and dedication has placed each one of them on the path to success in their field.

They are, what is commonly and often appropriately referred to as, Masters of the Universe. Alas, it's their own universe they're the masters of. Their single, solitary worlds of study and research will pay off for them professionally and in turn, pay off for the wider world in terms of what strengths and innovation they will bring to it.

They lack nothing.

Save for love.

They are all brilliant young engineers, computer geeks of the highest order, but their passions have all been singularly plugged into their natural abilities, talents and gifts to the science of engineering and, by extension, the wider world. On one hand, they've sacrificed their ability to find love and in so doing, have never quite developed the personalities and basic social skills to relate to the world outside the parameters of their deep and true calling.

How are these guys even going to get a date, let alone find love and a partnership of passion for life?

Their mentor is the brilliant Bulgarian 3-D engineer Atanas and he believes he can help. He is a Geek-o Supreme-o or, if you will, Super Geek. If one didn't know better, one might assume him to be a complete and total schlub. Hell, the man even suffers from a speech disorder. But guess what? He's married, with a family and his wife's a babe. He's also someone who spent years of shoving his face into a computer, but in Mark Twain parlance, all that "book larnin'" paid off handsomely because now, Atanas is convinced that love is a matter of science, of simple mathematics and damned if he doesn't have some "notions" on how to get his geek peeps hooked up.

Love and Engineering is a very sweet, strange and lovely movie that weaves its way expertly through the experiment Atanas places his love-starved charges through so that they too will learn the skills necessary to make love in their lives a reality. Director Tonislav Hristov and writer-producer Kaarle Aho have more than a few balls to juggle in this narrative. They present Atanas' theories, explain the science behind said theories, take us through several experiments in the lab with the four young men, then move all four into the "field" (as it were) to apply several basic scientific and mathematical principals in their quest for love. The cherry on the sundae is when we get to follow each of the lads on actual dates. At times these sequences have us squirming with embarrassment while at other points, we experience a buoyancy that borders on the magical.

Atanas himself, proves to be a most formidable mentor to these lads and the manner in which he throws himself into the passionate pursuit of love seems to border on obsessive fervour. In spite of this ardent pursuit, one wonders what might have occurred if Atanas had instead applied the fanciful rather than the practical. After all, let us never forget the famed German scientist who became enamoured with the teachings of Cornelius Agrippa, not realizing that:

". . . the principles of Agrippa had been entirely exploded and that a modern system of science had been introduced which possessed much greater powers than the ancient, because the powers of the latter were chimerical, while those of the former were real and practical."

That the aforementioned words came from a fictional "famed German scientist" by the name of Dr. Victor Frankenstein, one might perhaps think it folly to follow in the particular footsteps which spewed from the imagination of Mary Shelley. However, I couldn't help but think that a bit of the chimerical might have been a worthwhile pursuit, especially since there's already something vaguely Frankenstein-like in the way Atanas pursues his theories. Sometimes, blending the poetic with the scientific can indeed be the very thing that's needed when applying the practical to the emotional.

The tale told in Love and Engineering is replete with varying degrees of failure and success amongst Atanas' guinea pigs, but it's never less than fascinating as we do indeed see science applied to emotion. But science or no science, logic or no logic, sometimes the basic core of human emotion is beyond the reach of science, for as the Bard of Avon proclaimed in "A Midsummer Night's Dream" over 400 years ago:

"The course of true love never did run smooth."

And so shall it be for the protagonists' journey in Love and Engineering. We, the audience, are the biggest winners of all. We can be the flies on the wall and see for ourselves what love is and that science doesn't always have answers to the very basic reality of love, nor can it ever describe definitively what love is. In the words of the Bard:

"What is it? A madness most discreet,
A choking gall and a preserving sweet."

Our scientist might have done well to apply a bit of Shakespeare to his equations, though given that the aforementioned quotation comes from "Romeo and Juliet", maybe it wouldn't have been the best idea after all, since I'm sure we're quite familiar with where love leads the doomed lovers of that immortal tale of mad, passionate and ultimately tragic love.

In theory, the notion of these Romeos of the Engineering world being cut out "in little stars" in order to "make the face of heaven so fine" seems rather quaint, but something tells me, they themselves might mind being sacrificed so that "all the world will be in love with night, And pay no worship to the garish sun."

Love and Engineering is playing at Hot Docs 2014. Visit the festival website for ticket, playmate and venue info HERE.

CONTROVERSIES & WILL THE REAL DAVE BARBER PLEASE STAND UP - Review By Greg Klymkiw - MUST-SEE FILMS@ HOT DOCS 2014 & DOXA 2014: Warren Gets Right Down To Business With The Queen's Diamond Jubilee Medal

C.J.O.B. ('OB 68) The Station of Choice
for Winnipeg's Prairie Post-Modernist Filmmakers

"Red, I've got a BIG BEEF this
morning for Mayor Bill Norrie!"

Controversies (2014) Dir. Ryan McKenna ****

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Preamble #1: CJOB and Prairie Post-Modern Cinema
From the 60s to the early 90s, Winnipeg's C.J.O.B. (CJOB) was the greatest radio station in the world. In the Great White North, only dirty commies listened to the publicly-funded Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC). No other entity in Winnipeg, Manitoba (except perhaps for Bill Sciak, the legendary barber in the 'Peg's Chinatown) had as profound an influence upon the city's artists and, in particular, most of its filmmakers.

The driving force of this legendary radio station, founded by the inimitable J. O. Blick, were its on-air personalities. At the grand, old 'OB 68 they, and they alone, best reflected the style of programming and content which shaped an entire generation and its subsequent artistic output.

For this select group of young 'uns growing up in the 'Peg, CJOB most definitely WAS the station to listen to. Part of the reason for this is that our Moms and Dads, Aunts and Uncles, Grannies and Grandads and pretty much anyone, uh, like, OLD, would allow only one station to play at home and in the car radio:

CJOB, 68 on the dial.

Sports, Tunes, Home-making Tips

The personalities were larger than life: Red Alix in the mornings with his famous call-in segment "Beefs and Bouquets" was the dulcet-toned redhead who woke up Winnipeg. I'd often call Red using a very thick and convincing Ukrainian accent and offer up a Beef, usually to Winnipeg's Mayor, Bill Norrie and I'd temper the bile with a lovely Bouquet to Red Alix himself, occasionally requesting that Red play "Good Morning" from his hit album. Yes, Red Alix was not only a radio personality, but a major recording star,

Sports was a major draw on 'OB. The legendary scribe Jack Matheson's scathing commentaries occurred every morning when 'OB sponsor "Furnace Man" fired him up and the brilliant Kenny "The Friar" Nicholson did all the play-by-play action of the beloved Winnipeg Jets in their World Hockey Association (WHA) glory days. I even have personal memories of my old man, Julian, ex-hockey player, ex-cop and eventual Marketing honcho at Carling O'Keefe Breweries (or as Jack Matheson would say, "that great Oriental Brewery, Car Ling") when he'd ply the boys in the press box during Jets games with coolers full of Old Vienna beer and then do post-game analyses on-air with "The Friar".

And who in their right mind could ever forget the following:

- Hedi Lewis and her astounding homemaking tips in the afternoons. Hedi's brilliant concoctions for removing stains of any kind from any thing were the stuff of Cornelius Agrippa, Albertus Magnus and Paracelsus.

J.O.Blick's LEGACY

-The "Homeward Hustle" of Allen Willoughby wherein he'd rattle off corny jokes and slightly modern tunes like the Percy Faith Singers doing "Up, Up in the Air, in my beautiful ballon".

- George McCloy with the CJOB "Shut-Ins" programs which spun the most depressing old time music for people who were, uh, dying. Recall, if you will, Roger Corman's Little Shop of Horrors. There's a scene which adequately typifies McCloy's immortal CJOB show wherein Seymour Krelborn comes to visit his Mom as she's swigging cheap booze in her bed whilst listening to a program on the radio called "Music For Old Invalids".

These on-air giants of the industry were but the tip of 'OB's iceberg. So magnificent were these personalities that one often forgets the array of tunes spun out to the citizens of Winnipeg. Ah, the music: O! The Music! One dialled in to CJOB to hear the likes of 101 Strings, Percy Faith, Bert Kaempfert, selections from the Phase IV canon, Lawrence Welk, Ken Griffin and pretty much any music stylist who generated tunes of the elevator music variety. And though these musicians were extremely moderne, CJOB would also spin tunes by older artists like Harry James, Guy Lombardo, Glenn Miller, Bing Crosby, Edith Day, Al Bowlly, Richard Crooks and Winnipeg's Own Deanna Durbin.

CJOB Loyal Lady Listeners

Rock n' Roll was verboten on CJOB - so much so, that I remember when Winnipeggers hung their heads low when 'OB's transmitters blared out the heavy metal styling of The Beatles and the thrashing sounds of their hit song "Yesterday". Now, the absolute truth of the matter is that MOST kids in Winnipeg HATED this radio station. It was the epitome of UN-COOL. However, I can vouch for myself, Guy Maddin, John Paizs and most anyone associated with the Prairie Post-Modernist film movement in Winnipeg when I declare: We embraced CJOB with the fervour of a weeping cripple collapsing before Jimmy Swaggart during a laying-of-the-hands-in-the-name-of-Jesus-Christ revival meeting. Exceptions to 'OB devotion in this group of eventual filmmakers of the internationally acclaimed variety were a few of the aforementioned progeny of card-carrying members of the Communist party. They know who they are. I'm not going to rat them out. I'm no Edward Dmytryk, for Christ's sake.

"It's time to make the beds, M'am."

Preamble #2: Peter Warren - Investigative Reporter
The man who ruled the 'OB roost, the man who towered above ALL, was none other than investigative reporter Peter Warren and his insanely compulsive call-in program, "The Action Line". Peter began every morning with the words, "Let's get right down to business" and then he'd begin to spit his Holy Bile whilst launching into whatever the "controversy" of the day was. Warren ALWAYS pronounced "controversy" with one major accent which he placed upon the "rov" portion of the word.

Satisfied Peter Warren Listeners

Go ahead. Try it yourself. "Cont-ROV-ersy". It sounds good, doesn't it? It should, it's Peter Warren-approved. When the loyal 'OB listeners called in to speak their mind on whatever controversy Peter wanted to discuss, he had an extra-special phrase for women who went on too long and whom he disagreed with: "Time to make the beds, M'am," he'd bark, then hang up. There were regular callers as well. The best was Winnipeg's crazy cat lady, Bertha Rand. She'd shriek into the phone and seldom made any sense at all. And, of course, there were all the thick-accented immigrants. One of them, who went by the name of Joe, was an old Ukrainian who always had intelligent comments for Peter. One controversy involved a company in Winnipeg called Western Glove Works and Warren was quite upset that they were getting subsidies from the government to provide jobs for recent landed immigrants who weren't even citizens of Canada yet. Joe called up, with the thickest, stupidest Ukrainian accent imaginable and announced: "I agree'it veeth you, Peetor Voron. Ease nawt wary goote debt gorman gee'wit tex-payor mawney to eema-grunt, Peetor Voron." Translation: "I agree it with you, Peter Warren. Is not very good that government give it money to immigrants, Peter Warren." Another controversy I remember with considerable fondness was when Winnipeg's cutting edge alternative Plug-In Gallery, featured a performance artist who stood naked in the middle of the space with 100 toy soldiers attached by string to his penis. Warren, got right on this and complained how government money was used to subsidize this public display of pornography. Warren went on to say he had more respect for strippers because they, at least, did not survive on government handouts. Joe the Ukrainian, had a few words to say on this matter. He called in and opined: "Peetor Voron, I need'it complain bout gorman gee'wit mawney to theese peegs. Streeper ease vooman, yes? Vooman wase normal, yes? Man veeth penis, nawt normal." Translation: "Peter Warren, I need to complain about the government giving money to these pigs. A stripper is a woman. A woman is normal. A man with a penis is not normal." Joe, of course, was me.

BERTHA RAND
THE UTTERLY INSANE
CAT LADY OF WINNIPEG
& LUDICROUSLY FREQUENT
PETER WARREN CALLER
Immortalized in the play by
Maureen Hunter

I would spend many mornings at the Winnipeg Film Group offices, hanging with other filmmakers as we all listened to Peter Warren. When the right "cont-ROV-ersy" reared it's head, I dialled the telephone number still emblazoned upon my memory, 780-6868, launched into my "Joe" impersonation and let rip. Occasionally, Warren would try to engage "Joe" in a conversation, though more often than not, he politely barked, "Thank you so much for your comment, sir." This, I have to admit, was a bit more polite than, "Time to go make the beds."

The Film - CONTROVERSIES
Ryan McKenna has crafted an exquisite 17-minute short film which captures the halcyon days of Peter Warren's reign as the true heart and soul of Winnipeg's immortal radio station CJOB. Bookended by Warren's signature sign-on and sign off, McKenna edits together a series of haunting archival audio clips of actual Winnipeggers calling into Warren's "Action Line" with their comments. McKenna illustrates this poetic evocation of the strangest city in North America with a series of monochromatic images of not-very-happy Winnipeggers sitting like vegetables as they listen to the longest running talk show in the city. These are punctuated every so often with shots of Winnipeg's unique, stylishly bleak architecture and terrain. The film is a window into the soul of a city in a state of slow death and decay. It works perfectly on its own, but if you watch it within the context of any films made in Winnipeg from the same period by Guy Maddin, John Paizs, Greg Hanec, Lorne Bailey, Barry Gibson, Allen Schinkel, John Kozak and so many others, you'll see how a city is captured by an iconic radio station and how this, in turn, has influenced an important generation of filmmakers whose work has embedded itself into the psyches of cinema lovers all over the world. Now, a new generation of filmmakers like McKenna are picking up that torch and facing the ghoulish nightmare that is Winnipeg straight in the eye. They are, as it were, getting right down to business.

Will The Real Dave Barber Please Stand Up (2014) Dir. Dave Barber ***1/2

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Dave Barber is the one, only and longest-serving Senior Programmer of Film at the Winnipeg Film Group cooperative of independent cinema. Since 1982, Barber has shaped and moulded and influenced the minds of Winnipeg filmmakers and movie-goers with some of the most daring, alternative works from all periods of film history and countries all over the world including a firm commitment to the public screening of Canadian movies. He is a legend in the city of Winnipeg. Thankfully these days, as the Senior Programmer, he no longer has to do everything he's always done, PLUS manage the cinema, clean the popcorn machine and deal with the organization's increasingly useless bureaucracy. With Jaimz Asmundson, the trusty Programming Director at his side, Barber does what he does best and the city and its film culture are all the better off for it.

In 2013, Barber was awarded with a prestigious prize at the Manitoba Legislature for his longtime and ongoing service - the coveted Queen's Diamond Jubilee Medal.

With Will The Real Dave Barber Please Stand Up, Barber can now add the word "filmmaker" to his list of accomplishments. He has crafted this delightful 4-minute gem of a film that stands as a clever, inspiring, hilarious and self-deprecating documentary about his Queen's Diamond Jubilee Medal. What's especially cool about it, is that he's fashioned it in homage to the Prairie Post-Modernist Tradition of all those brilliant filmmakers he has nurtured and nourished with over 30 years of presenting cinema to inspire all of them. Using the tell-tale touches of deadpan delivery, fixed camera, voice-over narration and droll humour, it's a film that uses homage as a springboard and serves up a work that moves into its own delectably subversive realm of insanity.

Controversies and Will The Real Dave Barber Please Stand Up can be seen at the Hot Docs 2014 and the 2014 DOXA Documentary Film Festival in Vancouver. For Hot Docs info, click HERE. For DOXA info, click HERE.

These two films will be part of an exciting DOXA program called "Weird Old Winnipeg" which will feature a selection of the latest and brightest and newest filmmakers to carry the Maddin-Paizs, etc. torch of Prairie Post-Modernist Cinema into the New Millennium. Here is the full program:

Jaimz Asmundson and Karen Asmundson
with: Citizens Against Basswood

Dave Barber
with: Will The Real Dave Barber Please Stand Up

Walter Forsberg
with: Fahrenheit 7-Eleven

Ryan McKenna
with: Controversies

Matthew Rankin
with: I Dream of Driftwood

Leslie Supnet
with: Animated Heavy Metal Parking Lot and Spectroscopy

Rhayne Vermette
with: J. Werier

Aaron Zeghers and Nigel Webber
with: 11 Parking Lots and One Gradual Sunset

GIUSEPPE MAKES A MOVIE - Review By Greg Klymkiw - HOT DOCS 2014 - Ed Wood + John Waters = Giuseppe "Detroit Rock City" director Adam Rifkin captures the workings of a genuine underground filmmaker. This surefire Film Corner HOT DOCS 2014 MUST-SEE is replete with infectious joy, sadness, hope and desperation.

When Giuseppe makes a movie, he prides himself on doing it all. This includes wiping the bum of his elderly incontinent leading man, "Grandpa" Tyree.

The simple math of Garbanzo Gas
COWS EXPLOITED = COW VIGILANTE

Giuseppe Makes A Movie (2014)
Dir. Adam Rifkin *****

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Preamble -
Discovering the Mad Genius
of Ed Wood and John Waters.

When I was about eight or nine-years-old, I first saw Ed Wood's Plan 9 From Outer Space and not long after, Bride of the Monster. Keep in mind that this was the late 60s and even though I was a super precocious know-it-all movie nut, it took a second viewing of Plan 9 to identify that Ed Wood was not only the same guy who did Bride of the Monster, but that he was someone with the kind of distinct approach to movies that I was already starting to develop for much more stellar filmmakers as John Ford, Frank Capra and Alfred Hitchcock. I knew he wasn't in their league, but I distinctly remember thinking Wood's films were cool anyway, for one simple reason. I could tell there was something not quite right about them, but whatever that thing was, it didn't necessarily seem wrong either.

Whenever either film popped up on television, I'd watch them and in my mid-teens I finally saw Jail Bait. Its discovery thrilled me at the time because I had been wondering if Wood ever made more than the two aforementioned horror pictures and now I knew about three of them. Keep in mind, there was no such thing as the internet in the 60s and 70s, hence no imdb or wikipedia to look that sort of thing up. Even the original Forrest J. Ackerman "Famous Monsters of Filmland" only ever referred to Plan 9 and Bride of the Monster and, to my recollection, never with derision.

In 1975, I discovered John Waters via his cult masterpiece Pink Flamingos which not only shocked me with its utterly delicious depravity, but at the time, I recall thinking it too, had the same kind of "homemade" quality as Ed Wood's films and, in its very own way, it also didn't seem quite right, but that this was what made it so great. Though it's hard to argue Wood was an "underground" filmmaker like Waters would have been considered at the time, he was enough on the extremities of Hollywood that he sure felt like it. When I caught up with Waters' Female Trouble that same year, I recall noting how both Wood and Waters used a regular company of actors.

By the time Michael and Harry Medved released their famous 1980 book "The Golden Turkey Awards", I was shocked to learn that, by ballot no less, readers of their previous book "The Fifty Worst Film of All Time" voted Plan 9 From Outer Space as the "worst film of all time" and that the Medved boys personally chose Ed Wood as the "worst director of all time." To this day, I vociferously disagree. Once I caught up with other Wood pictures (especially Glen Or Glenda), I was convinced he was, in his own way, as mad a genius as John Waters. It was way back then that I started developing a severe distaste for the expression "guilty pleasure". I've never felt guilty taking pleasure in any of Wood's films nor, for that matter, in any number of titles cited as being "so bad they're good". I also appreciated Tim Burton's loving biopic tribute Ed Wood, a movie that still rates higher in my books than any others as a picture that perfectly captures the sheer infectious joy and obsession with movie-making.

An independent auteur like
no other before him. Iconoclasm Rules.

The Film - Giuseppe Makes A Movie
Giuseppe Andrews makes Ed Wood and early John Waters look completely mainstream, but like them, he's a true original. Nobody, but nobody will ever make films like his. Closer, perhaps, to the spirit of Ed Wood, albeit with a great deal more artistic aplomb, he makes movies with his own brand of joy and obsession. To say it's infectious is an understatement. A doff of my hat in Adam Rifkin's direction is in order for taking time away from his prolific family-movie screenwriting career (Small Soldiers, Underdog) to craft this wild, wooly and supremely entertaining documentary on Andrews. The sometime actor who appeared as a kld in Rifkin's own Detroit Rock City as well as bits in Independence Day, Pleasantville, American History X, Never Been Kissed and the first two Cabin Fever movies, eventually opened to a new chapter in his book of life as steady acting gigs got fewer and far-betweener.

Giuseppe's real claim to fame is having directed over 30 micro-budgeted underground films. Andrews is a fringe-player of the highest order. Out of his fevered imagination, he crafts work that captures a very desperate, real and sad truth about America's fringes that are, frankly, not so outside the Status Quo as the country descends even deeper into a kind of Third World divide twixt rich and poor. Through Rifkin's lens we see America according to Andrews, a country rife with abject poverty, alcoholism, exploitation, cruelty and violence. Trailer parks and cheap motels provide the visual backdrop by which Andrews etches his original portraits of depravity (but always tinged with humanity).

Giuseppe Makes a Movie focuses on the making of his 1K-budgeted 2007 film Garbanzo Gas, the tender tale of a cow sent on an all-expenses-paid trip by a slaughterhouse to a sleazy motel in order to have one last fling at life before being dragged back to be butchered. Rifkin's doc gives us a full picture of Andrews' creative process from script writing to production and it's a joy to behold.

He writes some of the richest dialogue I've ever heard. It's the grittiest, most musical gutter poetry imaginable and it's all about sex (often inextricably linked to violence). He casts his films with a regular company of actors who are, for all intents and purposes, homeless men of varying ages and all suffering from a variety of booze and drug addictions. Some of them want cash, but most of them are happy to work for beer and/or rotgut. On occasion he'll literally drag people off the street.

The Bottom line? His actors all seem like they're having one hell of a good time. Aside from the booze perks, acting in Giuseppe's movies offers them an alternative outlet to express themselves, but also, given the ferocity of the dialogue, one senses they also get a charge out of venting whatever they must vent via the florid vulgarity of his words.

Andrews' excitement is infectious.

He gets his cast to reel off these cool lines of dialogue by first barking the lines out himself as the gentlemen (and one lady) repeat them again and again until they nail what the mad auteur is looking for. This is electric stuff and the movie is often charged with its own kinetic energy, fuelled by Andrews' own implosions and explosions.

At times, these drunk, stoned and/or incontinent actors spout the tough-minded, richly purple and often hilarious monologues that reminded me, and indeed rival some of the best dialogue from Russ Meyer's equally purple-prose-worthy bag of tricks. Meyer, like Wood, early Waters and, of course, Giuseppe Andrews, all exemplify pure independence.

Giuseppe has help to do all this. His Dad, whom he lives with in a trailer park, is a part-time session musician who worked for years as the lead guitarist for The Bee Gees. He's the money-bags and all-round producer. They make a great team and it's especially touching to see their clear love and respect for each other even when they have disagreements. The two men are separated by generations, but linked by blood and creativity. They also know, after 30 films together, how to make movies for virtually nothing - it's complete and total DIY. No job is too small or dirty for these guys, though Giuseppe appears to have the regular honour of cleaning the soiled ass of his favourite actor, an incontinent old drunk named Tyree.

Rifkin wisely doesn't go out of his way to editorialize. He pretty much shoots what he sees and assembles it into its own unique fever dream of Andrews' life. For his part, Giuseppe is clearly a committed artist. He loves certain filmmakers like Pasolini, Fassbinder and Godard, then mercilessly craps on "fake" indie filmmakers. He displays disdain for cinematic storytelling convention (though he clearly seems to understand it) and most fascinating of all, he works completely on impulse but at the same time remains true to his language, themes and initial goals.

He admits to going through a patch of depression when it looked like his acting career was going nowhere, but no further probing on that front seems necessary. Giuseppe is clearly ill, but he's equipped with the ultimate anti-depressant, filmmaking. And look, I'm no psychiatrist, but I have a funny feeling that he clearly exhibits signs of mood states not unlike hypomania which include huge highs and lows plus a heightened sense of disinhibition. Many artists experience this and if, indeed, Giuseppe is going through a series of hypo-manic episodes (or something close to it) throughout the making of Garbanzo Gas, we get a rare, unbridled glimpse into that inner spirit, that flame burning within his synapses and how it yields creativity unbound.

Rifkin remain respectfully detached - as he should be. Too many filmmakers would be tempted to do one of those offensive, condescending and easy "Oh, let's make fun of this nutcase" style of film. Obviously there are plenty of talentless Status Quo hacks out there who could and would do that, but it would be a loss to the rest of us and Giuseppe. Frankly, to toss off someone like Giuseppe Andrews as an oddball, an eccentric or a quirky goof would display a complete lack of understanding, imagination, feeling and appreciation for what makes a true artist.

Yes, he might be quite insane, but he is an artist, for Christ's Sake and a damn fine one at that. Our world would be a much better place with more people like Giuseppe Andrews. Maybe someday we'll see a movie from him that nails all the boring buggers to the crucifix they deserve to be affixed to. If he does it, you can bet it will be rife with the humanity that pulsates through his work and courses through his veins until it spurts like geysers of gorgeously glistening viscous fluids upon the boundless tapestry that IS cinema.

Giuseppe Makes a Movie is playing at Hot Docs 2014 in Toronto. Get further info HERE.

UKRAINE AND WOMEN at HOT DOCS 2014 - Part One and Two Bundled Together Just For You. Reviews of Two Film Corner Hot Docs 2014 MUST-SEE Movies - By Greg Klymkiw of the two best films about Ukraine at #HotDocs14: LOVE ME and UKRAINE IS NOT A BROTHEL - PLUS below, find two special surprise bonus pieces. One is FOR UKRAINIANS (and non-Ukrainians) visiting Toronto for the HOT DOCS film festival who want to experience Ukraine in Canada and another piece (mostly) FOR UKRAINIANS ONLY.

UKRAINE AND WOMEN at Hot Docs 2014 - PART ONE: LOVE ME

Beyond the myriad of films focusing upon Ukraine that are screening in the Toronto Hot Docs 2014 International Festival of Documentary Cinema, the past few years have yielded a ludicrous number of pictures training their lens upon the beleaguered nation. For all intents and purposes, Ukraine has always remained a colonized entity, even in its years of "freedom" since the fall of communism. With the recent and miraculous revolution in Kyiv's Maidan and the subsequent assault upon Ukraine's borders by Russia, the country's most powerful enemy (and frankly, the greatest threat to all of Eastern Europe), one can only imagine the floodgates opening full throttle on Ukraine-centred docs. My hope, however, is that two of the very best films to focus on Ukraine, Love Me, by Jonathon Narducci and Ukraine is Not a Brothel, by Kitty Green, stay first and foremost ahead of what is, and will be, an over-crowded pack.

Love Me (2014) ****
Dir. Jonathon Narducci

Review By Greg Klymkiw

The world of mail-order brides is the focus of Jonathon Narducci's thorough and affecting film. Using the online dating service "A Foreign Affair" as the door into this world, Love Me focuses upon five men (3 schlubs, 2 not-so-much) who dump thousands upon thousands of dollars on the company's services. From membership fees to per-transaction fees for the online aspect of the service to the actual whirlwind guided tours to Ukraine, Narducci expertly wends his way through a massive amount of material and subjects, but does so with impeccable skill and movie-making savvy.

The company is run by a real-life married couple (the fella's American, the lady's his Russian "mail-order" bride) and it surely looks like a license to print money with all the come-hither ads of scrumptious young Ukrainian ladies beckoning Western fellas to marry them. And in case anyone has any doubt prior to gazing at the swimsuit photos of these Babunya-to-be, let's never forget the Beatles' immortal lines from the song "Back in the U.S.S.R." which clearly declares:

"Those Ukraine girls really knock me out, they leave the West behind…"

Well, in the case of a few of the Ukrainian gals the movie focuses upon, they literally leave the West behind since a great many of these braided-ladies adorned in veenoks-masquerading-as-devil-horns are clearly looking for Western men to come over, dump wads of dough on them, then dump the guys when things get way too serious. Yes, it's a scam, but given the poverty in Ukraine as well as the country's backwards patriarchy, I couldn't actually blame these ladies as they scored scads of greenbacks from mostly middle-aged, paunchy Mama's Boys from North America.

One of the men is from Australia and the manner in which he gets taken for a ride is so ludicrous (on his part) that it's almost laughable. Not that Narducci is ever unfairly slanting his POV to engender feelings of mockery and/or derision at these men (and the old Aussie in particular). His camera rolls from a perfectly positioned fencepost and captures the obvious that seems beyond the purview of the fellas.

The woman who takes the Oz-dweller for a ride is, in every shot, so clearly bored, contemptuous, disgusted and borderline hateful towards him, you keep saying to yourself, "Uh, mate, are you really that blind?" When she has to hug or kiss him, she's in total recoil-mode. In a horrific sequence where they actually get married, her utterance of the matrimonial vows might as well be, "Well, let's toss another kubassa on the barbie." However, when our mate from Down Under eventually reveals, long after the wedding and not hearing from her for months after she stays in Ukraine, that he's a trifle concerned that the marriage has never been consummated, I can't say I felt at all sorry for him. Then again, I've seen first-hand the horrific conditions many Ukrainian women live in over there, the exploitation and lack of regard for them as human, so perhaps I'm a tad biased when well-to-do old men from the Western World get soaked. My only response was, "Well, let's chalk up another win for Ukrainian women."

I do, however, place a bit too much emphasis on the scam-aspect of the mail-order business, though, because Narducci also features a couple of prominent examples where the service provided by "A Foreign Affair" actually works. Chemistry and luck play a humungous part in the process and this, frankly, is how it works out in real life anyway. Using "A Foreign Affair", however, can speed up the luck and chemistry thing by presenting an atmosphere for romance to blossom. One couple seem genuinely suited to each other and though there might be a bit more "convenience" going on for both parties than deep love, there's certainly compatibility taking front seat and for now, in terms of what we experience within the context of the film, the new hubby and wife look like they're going to be happy - at least for awhile.

The highlight of the film, though, is a genuine Prince Charming and Cinderella romance which is so tender, so sweet, so moving, that it feels like it has Hollywood chick-flick written all over it. The gent is handsome, well-to-do, good-humoured and intelligent. The lady is his female counterpart in all these things. One sequence has her visiting the Lavra (a kind of Orthodox Vatican in Kyiv) to offer blessings and prayers of thanks to God when it is clear she's on her way to a new life in American with a man she really loves. It's so damn moving, I know at least one Ukrainian film critic from Canada who squirted geysers of tears.

I suspect there might be a few others who will also shed a few pickle-barrels full of tears and they don't necessarily have to be Ukrainian, nor film critics.

Love Me is playing at Toronto's Hot Docs 2014. ALL UKRAINIANS BUY YOUR TICKETS NOW. UKRAINIANS MUST, AS THEY ALWAYS DO, BUY EVERY AVAILABLE TICKET, THEN THEY MUST, AS UKRAINIANS ALWAYS DO, SHOW UP AT THE CINEMA SEVERAL HOURS BEFORE THE SHOW BEGINS, LINE-UP, AND THEN, TAKE THEIR SEATS THE SECOND THE DOORS OPEN AND SIT THERE UNTIL THE BITTER END. HOWEVER, UNLIKE EVENTS IN UKRAINIAN CHURCH BASEMENTS, THERE WILL NOT BE TORTES AND KAVA SERVED UP, SO BRING YOUR OWN TO EAT IN THE LOBBY AFTER THE MOVIE. UKRAINIANS WHO ACTUALLY HAVE INTERNET, CAN BUY THEIR TICKETS by visiting the Hot Docs website HERE. UKRAINIANS WITHOUT INTERNET MUST GO DOWNTOWN TO THE HOT DOCS BOXOFFICE AND BUY THEIR TICKETS IN PERSON. (Then again, those Ukrainians without internet won't be reading this, so perhaps there will be plenty of tickets for NON-Ukrainians.)

GLOSSARY TO UKRAINIAN TERMS USED IN REVIEW ABOVE:

BABUNYA

VEENOK

KOVBASSA

TORTE
are you a moron?
this is not a Uke word

KAVA

UKRAINE AND WOMEN at Hot Docs 2014 PART TWO: UKRAINE IS NOT A BROTHEL

Ukraine is Not a Brothel (2014) ****
Dir. Kitty Green Review By Greg Klymkiw

Preamble 1 - The Bug
So there we were in "the Old Country". Upon entering a nondescript government office building in Kyiv, my wife and I both required immediate use of the, uh, facilities. I spotted the Men's washroom at once, its door adorned with the telltale Cyrillic letter pronounced "Ch" for "Choloveek" (Man), but I couldn't see where the women's washroom was. I asked Sasha, our fixer-translator-driver (don't go to Ukraine without one) the whereabouts of the ladies' "convenience". He pointed down the hallway. "When you get to end, turn right," he said in slightly broken English, then laughed and added, "Look for bug." I guffawed heartily in response. It's a good, old fashioned joke amongst Ukrainian men. The Cyrillic letter emblazoned upon the doors of female water closets represents the Ukrainian word "zheenka". Pronounced "zh", the word's first letter, printed or hand-written, does indeed look like a bug. Most tellingly, the word "zheenka" not only means "woman", but is in fact the word used for "wife". They are, essentially, one and the same. If you're married or otherwise significantly-othered, your wife is your woman. Yes, in a virulently patriarchal society and culture, women in Ukraine, at least in abbreviation, are little more than bugs - to be squashed, of course, as Sasha's "look for bug" joke suggested. "This is my woman," you would say whilst introducing someone to your wife if, in fact, you bothered to introduce your "bug" at all.

Preamble 2 - Sexual Slavery
Ukraine's sex industry since the collapse of Communism was huge. Brothels and strip clubs filled (and continue to fill) every city. All of it is run by gangsters (or, if you will, most government officials). The sex slavery business, as first identified in Victor Malarek's seminal book "The Natashas" was, during most of the 90s and early 2000s, especially prevalent in snatching its victims from Ukraine. Poverty runs rampant and women are often looked upon as property. During those dark days, we personally observed the especially horrific sex slave underground running out of the nation's orphanages where pimps and their vans, the windows painted black in the rear holding areas, would wait daily for the latest teenage girls being officially released into a world of poverty. As they'd stagger, stunned and terrified, into a brave new world, the pimps would herd them into the vans and off they'd go - sold into sex slavery the world over.

Preamble 3 - Femen
This, then, is the world that inspired "Femen", one of the most influential performance art and activist movements in the world. "Femen" gained fame and notoriety for their protests in public places. This clutch of gorgeous, young Ukrainian women, a la Russia's "Pussy Riot", but somehow far bolder and decidedly feminist in their approach, would show up in places often tied to Ukraine's patriarchy (the bell tower at Kyiv's Orthodox Vatican-styled ancient city, The Lavra, for instance) and tear their clothes off and nakedly, brazenly, bare their breasts in the name of Ukrainian womanhood to declare, first and foremost, that Ukraine is NOT a brothel.

The Film - Kitty Green's brave, inspiring and ultimately shocking film Ukraine is Not a Brothel feels, for its first half, like a fun and freewheeling look at these cool, young Ukrainian women with a profoundly pro-female-empowerment message. Opening with the ballistic missile fire of Boney M's "(Rah, Rah) Rasputin" and the aforementioned breast-baring protest shenanigans, Green's got us hooked (line and sinker) into the rhyme, reason and rhythm of this delectable bevy of "Ukraine Girls (to borrow from the Beatles) who leave the West behind." For much of its running time, the picture's as fun, fresh and provocative as one would expect - nay, demand, of any movie entitled Ukraine is Not a Brothel.

This is a beautifully shot and finely observed film that takes us behind the scenes as the women prepare for their protests, then follows them to a variety of said protests, covers the savage responses of both the public and authorities and is finally, chockfull of insightful interviews dolloped throughout, zeroing in on these clearly very intelligent and vibrant young women.

The politics and feminism are freewheeling and fun, but as the movie progresses, danger does lurk behind every corner. Protest patriarchy in a patriarchal (and frankly corrupt, if not downright criminal) society, trouble is sure to follow, especially as demonstrated upon discovering the horrific tale of Femen's protest field trip to Belarus where the ladies are stripped naked and shoved into a forest on the border of Ukraine - forced at gunpoint to march their way back to their homeland.

Where the film begins to shock - yes, at least for me - is with the introduction of a genuinely malevolent force behind the Femen movement. There are hints throughout, to be sure, but we tend to file them under, "Yeah, let's ignore this and have fun with the lassies instead." Once the noxious influence is revealed in its full and grotesquely foul form, we begin to realize that something is a tad rotten in the state of the birthplace of Kyivan-Rus. What's revealed to us (as it was, ultimately to Green as she was making the film), seems diabolically nefarious. The activities of Femen become infused with the sort of foul patriarchal manipulations that began to remind me of the horrendous discoveries I was making in Ukraine during my own sojourns. What's revealed as the motivating force behind the feminist performance artists feels like the very thing designed to keep women in their place in Ukraine.

Once we come face to face with a Rasputin-like evil (no more "rah, rah"), Ukraine is Not a Brothel becomes sickeningly creepy. This, of course, is what makes for great drama and great cinema - when the bed of roses is growing from within a fetid fertilizer of rank manipulation.

In spite of this surprising element, director Green, girds all her resolve and plunges forward, taking her exploration of these women well beyond the unexpected creep factor. Finally, she sticks to the women with a loyalty that can ONLY come from building enough trust in her subjects that she can begin to ask EXTREMELY tough questions.

The answers the Femen ladies provide are full of self reflection, self analysis and the sort of intelligence we first fell for - in spite of what we discover about them a little past the halfway point. If anything, the film is almost perfectly structured to mirror the actual events that transpired in chronological order. The film transforms, quite miraculously and once we become aware of it. we're cascaded along with the kind of magic that's not only unique to the form of documentary, but organically inherent in cinema at its most profound levels. Green's film is, finally, as much an exploration for us, as it is for its filmmaker and most profoundly, for the brilliant young women of Femen.

Ukraine is currently on the precipice of disaster or glory. If Green's film proves anything (and believe me, it proves a whole LOT), it especially suggests that Ukraine's future MUST include both women and youth. The old shackles of patriarchy need to be shaken free and if anything, it's women who might well be the force necessary to maintain Ukraine's freedom in the face of the greatest threat to the nation's sovereignty.

Shevchenko's Kateryna
No beguiling Mona Lisa smile

One of the most profound artistic symbols of Ukraine is the astonishing work by the legendary visual artist and great Ukrainian poet Taras Shevchenko. "Kateryna" is probably the closest Ukrainian equivalent to the mysterious "Mona Lisa" in terms of its artistry, cultural significance to Ukraine and overall impact in terms of capturing a sense of Ukrainian womanhood. There is, however, no beguiling "Mona Lisa" smile, but a sense of almost complacent sorrow in the subject's face. She is front and centre, barefoot upon the rich earth of Ukraine and bookended by two masculine entities - a dashing soldier riding off to war and the stay-at-home lout, smoking, drinking and ogling her lazily in repose. Painted in 1842, this is the image that has endured - perhaps more significantly than any other work of Ukrainian visual art, save perhaps for the quiet impressionism of Olexandr Murashko and his notable 1911 "Annunciation" portrait which presents a young woman cast as the angel Gabriel, telling yet another about the birth of Christ.

In both these seminal works, Ukrainian women are either flanked by patriarchs, or indeed, represent patriarchal elements of Christianity. In contrast to this, the performance art as activism of Femen might well be the future of art and its place as a weapon, the final blow, if you will, against Ukraine's patriarchal dominance that keeps, not only its women at bay, but by extension, its youth, its very future.

Murashko's Annunciation, Shevechenko's Kateryna
Patriarchy all consuming: Imbuing the spirit,
surrounding the body of Ukrainian womanhood

In this sense, both the film and subjects of Ukraine is Not a Brothel, via the commitment and artistry of the movie's director, indeed seeks, I think, to prove that Ukraine is not ONLY not a brothel, but a country as a state of being rooted in its real power. Ukraine, personified as matriarchal, rather than patriarchal, is possibly the key to its future survival. As such, the country must not be bought and sold, but will need, in order to stave off the horse trading at every level, the kind of commitment and political will to change all that might only come via very concerted efforts to reflect upon what the goals must be and how to achieve them beyond all shackles, beyond all influence, save for that which comes from within.

Ukraine is Not a Brothel is playing at Toronto's Hot Docs 2014. ALL UKRAINIANS BUY YOUR TICKETS NOW. UKRAINIANS MUST, AS THEY ALWAYS DO, BUY EVERY AVAILABLE TICKET, THEN THEY MUST, AS UKRAINIANS ALWAYS DO, SHOW UP AT THE CINEMA SEVERAL HOURS BEFORE THE SHOW BEGINS, LINE-UP, AND THEN, TAKE THEIR SEATS THE SECOND THE DOORS OPEN AND SIT THERE UNTIL THE BITTER END. HOWEVER, UNLIKE EVENTS IN UKRAINIAN CHURCH BASEMENTS, THERE WILL NOT BE TORTES AND KAVA SERVED UP, SO BRING YOUR OWN TO EAT IN THE LOBBY AFTER THE MOVIE. UKRAINIANS WHO ACTUALLY HAVE INTERNET, CAN BUY THEIR TICKETS by visiting the Hot Docs website HERE. UKRAINIANS WITHOUT INTERNET MUST GO DOWNTOWN TO THE HOT DOCS BOXOFFICE AND BUY THEIR TICKETS IN PERSON. (Then again, those Ukrainians without internet won't be reading this, so perhaps there will be plenty of tickets for NON-Ukrainians.) Distributed by Kinosmith.

HERE IS A SPECIAL SURPRISE BONUS FOR UKRAINIANS AND
NON-UKRAINIANS VISITING THE HOT DOCS 2014 FESTIVAL IN TORONTO
WHO NEED A FEW SHOTS OF UKRAINIAN CULTURE - CANADIAN STYLE

These are a few Ukrainian points of interest in Toronto. Alas, most of them are located on the west end of Toronto and are best accessed by car. If you are a filmmaker or other guest of the festival, insist that HOT DOCS let a bunch of you pile into official Hot Docs vehicles (and in Ukrainian tradition, with jars of open liquor - for you, not the drivers) and take you all over the city for these delectables. I also recommend you buy an extra suitcase to pack it with a care package of Ukrainian Food to take back with you to wherever you're coming from (unless you're coming from Ukraine). Here then are a few joints worth considering:

1. Fresh and Tasty
99 Advance Rd, Toronto, ON M8Z 2S6
(416) 234-8063

This joint is owned by relatively recent Uke immigrants from Western Ukraine. They love it when you speak Uke to them. If you don't speak Uke, they DO speak English. They have the most amazing delectables at their meat counter. Your best bets are:

Ternopilska Kubassa: Cherry smoked, garlic overload, only the finest and freshest meat, innards and fat of pig.

Bukovynska Kubassa: Tangy, garlic-infused kubassa,

Kishka: This is the non-Jewish Uke kishka. Nobody in Toronto makes it as well. It's ALMOST as good as my Babunia's. Crushed garlic, mashed buckwheat and, of course, only the finest and freshest Blood of Pig.

Real Ukrainian Halvah in plastic containers on top of meat counter made from sunflower and honey.

The best fucking sweet cheese crepes known to man.

Real Ukrainian potato pancakes (in the Jewish parlance, latkes)

2. Future Bakery (NOT the ho-hum joint near the Bloor Cinema, though it'll do in a pinch), but rather the main store at:

106 North Queen, Etobicoke, ON M8Z 2E2
(416) 231-1491

Fucking unbelievable selection of Uke breads and baked goods,
small or humungous tubs of real Uke Sour Cream,
homemade borscht in jars

3. Starsky - 2040 Dundas Street East (just east of HWY 427

Okay, they're Polish, but we won't hold this against them.
This is a humungous big box supermarket with every conceivable
Eastern European food product known to man - Polish, Uke, Russian

4. Astra Deli - 238 Bloor St W, Toronto, ON M6S 3B4
(416) 763-1093, near Runnymede Station

Smaller version of stuff available at the above, but it's specialty is
HOT FOODS for takeout.

5. KOOTA OOMA - 42 The Queensway Toronto, Ontario Canada M8Z 1N7
Great Ukrainian Kids Bookstore which also has pysanky supplies
to make your very own Uke Easter Eggs.

6. Ukrainian National Federation = 145 Evans Ave #210, Toronto, ON M8Z 5X8
The insane organization my family were founding members of. Hard to say if the Toronto version is worth visiting these days. If there are events scheduled, this could be fun. They have a bar inside and you can juice it up with Ukrainians. They have Ukrainian Saturday School and Ukrainian Dancing, but I suspect these will be of absolutely no use to you.

7. There are a shitload of Uke churches in the west end, but I can't imagine they'll be of interest, though the cathedral on Queen West and Bellwoods is kinda nice. Also, every one of these churches sells freshly prepared varenyky (perogies/pyrohy) prepared by old Uke ladies. Alas, they only sell them on Wednesdays, so you are possibly S.O.L. on this one.

8. St. Vladimir Institute -
620 Spadina Ave, Toronto, ON M5S
(416) 923-3318

Kind of a smaller version of the Ukrainian National Federation, but mostly a residence for Ukrainian U of T students. Still, they sometimes have events, a great Uke library and if head honcho Lida is around, she heads up a lot of the cultural stuff there, so she might be worth meeting. I shot Zabava there, a vile short drama I wrote and directed (with GOVERNMENT MONEY from the Ontario Media Development Corporation) about young Ukrainian men being fucking pigs. I'm not sure I've ever been forgiven for this.

9. Baby Point Catering and Hall
343 Jane St, north of the Jane Street TTC station. (416) 767- 2623

Have a humungous Ukrainian meal catered for you and your Hot Docs pals. If Hot Docs is too cheap to send someone to pick up the food and bring it to your hotel, send a cab driver down there.

Just give them a call and ask for Ivanka or Petro or send an e-mail to ivanka@babypointlounge.com

Your best bets are the Pyrohy (get with potato and kapusta), Cabbage rolls, Knyshi, Patychky, Nalesnyky, Lots of Kapusta, Buckets of Mushroom Gravy and the Beef Roll-ups with pickle and bacon.

Here's the Baby Point Menu:

Well, even if you don't make it out to any of these, save this guide for your next trip to Hot Docs or TIFF.

And now, a little something for my UKRAINIAN brothers and sisters:

Taras Bulba (1962) *****
dir. J. Lee Thompson
Starring: Yul Brynner, Tony Curtis

Review By Greg Klymkiw

“Do not put your faith in a Pole.
Put your faith in your sword and your sword in the Pole!”

Thus spake Taras Bulba – Cossack Chief!
(As played in 1962 by Yul Brynner, ‘natch!)

These days, there are so few truly momentous events for lovers of fine cinema and, frankly, even fewer such momentous events for those of the Ukrainian persuasion. However, film lovers and Ukrainians both have something to celebrate. Especially Ukrainians.

The recent events in Ukraine involving the revolution against Russia are indicative of the events celebrated in the Fox/MGM DVD release of J. Lee Thompson’s 1962 film adaptation of Nikolai Gogol’s Taras Bulba is (and will be), without question, as momentous an occasion in the lives of Ukrainians the world over as the execution of Saddam Hussein must have been to the entire Bush family of Texas.

As a pig-fat-eating Cossack-lover, I recall my own virgin helping (at the ripe age of four) of Taras Bulba with my family at the late lamented North Main Drive-Inn Theatre in the sleepy winter city of Winnipeg. Being situated in the ‘Peg’s North End (on the decidedly wrong side of the tracks), everyone of the Ukrainian persuasion was crammed into this drive-inn theatre when Taras Bulba unspooled there for the first time.

A veritable zabava-like atmosphere overtook this huge lot of gravel and speaker posts. (A zabava is a party where Ukrainians place a passionate emphasis on drinking, dining and dancing until they all puke.) Men wore their scalp locks proudly whilst women paraded their braided-hair saucily. Children brandished their plastic sabers pretending to butcher marauding Russians, Turks, Mongols and, of course, as per Gogol's great book, Poles.

Those adults of the superior sex wore baggy pants (held up proudly by the brightly coloured pois) and red boots whilst the weaker sex sported ornately patterned dresses and multi-coloured ribbons in their braided hair.

All were smartly adorned in embroidered white shirts.

Enormous chubs of kovbassa and kishka (all prepared with the finest fat, innards and blood of swine) along with Viking-hefty jugs of home-brew were passed around with wild abandon. Hunchbacked old Babas boiled cabbage-filled varenyky (perogies) over open fires and slopped them straight from the vats of scalding hot water into the slavering mouths of those who required a bit of roughage to go with their swine and rotgut. I fondly recall one of my aunties doling out huge loaves of dark rye bread with vats of salo (salted pig-fat and garlic) and studynets (jellied boiled head of pig with garlic) and pickled eggs for those who had already dined at home and required a mere appetizer.

One might say, it was a carnival-like atmosphere, or, if you will, a true Cossack-style chow-down and juice-up.

However, when the lights above the huge silver screen dimmed, the venerable North Main Drive-Inn Theatre transformed reverently into something resembling the hallowed Saint Vladimir and Olga Cathedral during a Stations of the Cross procession or a panachyda (deferential song/dirge/prayers for the dead) at Korban's Funeral Chapel.

Everyone sat quietly in their cars and glued their Ukrainian eyeballs to the screen as Franz Waxman’s exquisitely romantic and alternately boisterous musical score (rooted firmly in the tradition of Ukrainian folk music) thundered over the opening credits which were emblazoned upon a variety of Technicolor tapestries depicting stars Yul Brynner and Tony Curtis in the garb of Ukraine’s mighty warriors of the steppes.

This screening and the overwhelming feelings infused in those who were there could only be described as an epiphany. Like me (and ultimately, my kind), I can only assume there wasn’t a single Ukrainian alive who didn’t then seek each and every opportunity after their respective virgin screenings to partake – again and again and yet again – in the staggering and overwhelming cinematic splendour that is – and can only be – Taras Bulba.

All this having been said, barbaric garlic-sausage-eating Ukrainian heathen are not the only people who can enjoy this movie. Anyone – and I mean ANYONE – who loves a rousing, astoundingly entertaining, old-fashioned and action-packed costume epic will positively delight in this work of magnificence.

The source material for this terrific picture is the short novel Taras Bulba by Nikolai Gogol, a young Ukrainian writer of Cossack stock who is often considered the father of Russian fiction. He was a contemporary of Pushkin and the two of them were both friends and leaders of the Russian literary scene in St. Petersburg over 150 years ago. Prior to writing Taras Bulba, Gogol (this is the popular Russified version of his name which, in the original Ukrainian would actually be Hohol) dabbled in narrative poetry, held some teaching positions and worked in the Russian bureaucracy.

Gogol’s early fictional works were short satirical stories steeped in the rural roots of his Ukrainian Cossack background. Evenings On A Farm Near The Village of Dykanka (Vechera Na Khutore Blyz Dykanky) was full of magic and folklore in the rustic, yet somewhat mystical world of simple peasants and Cossacks. The material is, even today, refreshing – sardonically funny, yet oddly sentimental. It even made for an excellent cinematic adaptation in Alexander Rou’s early 60s feature made at the famed Gorky Studios and a recent Ukrainian television remake starring the gorgeous pop idol Ani Lorak. Gogol’s vivid characters, sense of humour and attention to realistic detail all added up to supreme suitability for the big screen.

Taras Bulba is no different. The material is made for motion pictures. Alas, several unsatisfying versions pre-dated this 1962 rendering. Luckily, this version is the one that counts thanks to the team of legendary producer Harold Hecht (Marty, The Crimson Pirate and Sweet Smell of Success in addition to being Burt Lancaster’s producing partner), stalwart crime and action director J. Lee Thompson (Cape Fear, The Guns of Navarone) and screenwriters Waldo Salt (who would go on to write Midnight Cowboy, Serpico and Coming Home) and the veteran Karl Tunberg (Ben-Hur, Down Argentine Way, Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm and fifty or so other scripts).

This, then, was the dream team who were finally able to put Gogol’s Taras Bulba on the silver screen where it ultimately belongs.

For Gogol, Taras Bulba (in spite of the aforementioned literary qualities attributable to his rural stories) took a decidedly different turn than anything that preceded it or followed it in his career as a writer. Bulba sprang, not only from Gogol’s Cossack roots and familiarity with the dumy (songs and ballads of the Cossacks), but interestingly enough, he was greatly inspired by the great Scottish author Sir Walter Scott, of whom he was a big fan.

This, of course, makes perfect sense since Scott’s swashbuckling adventures often dealt with Scottish pride and history at odds with the ruling powers of England. And so too with Taras Bulba.

The film (while deviating slightly from the book) maintains much of the structure, characters and spirit of Gogol’s work. It tells the story of Cossack chieftain Taras Bulba (Yul Brynner) and his desire to make Ukraine free from the oppression of the ruling nation of Poland. Though the Poles subjugate Ukraine, the Cossacks are willing (for a price and booty) to fight alongside the Poles against Turkish invaders. In addition to the pecuniary rewards, the Cossacks also get to use the Poles to help fight one of their enemies. When it comes to paying allegiance to the Poles, Taras steadfastly refuses to do this and, after committing a violent act against one of the Polish generals, the Cossacks all scatter into the hills to regroup and prepare for a time when they can go to war again – but this time, against the Poles.

Secured in their respective mountain hideaways, the Cossacks bide their time. Taras raises two fine and strapping young sons, Andrei (Tony Curtis) and Ostap (Perry Lopez). He sends his boys to Kyiv (the Russified spelling is “Kiev”) to study at the Polish Academy. The Poles wish to tame the Ukrainians, so they offer to educate them. Taras, on the other hand, orders his sons that they must study in order to learn everything they can about the Poles so that someday they can join him in battle against the Poles. At the Polish Academy, the young men learn that Poles are vicious racists who despise Ukrainians and on numerous occasions, both of them are whipped and beaten mercilessly – especially Andrei (because the Dean of the Academy believes Andrei has the greatest possibility of turning Polish and shedding his “barbaric” Ukrainian ways). A hint of Andrei’s turncoat-potential comes when he falls madly in love with Natalia (Christine Kaufmann) a Polish Nobleman’s daughter. When the Poles find out that Andrei has deflowered Natalia, they attempt to castrate him. Luckily, Andrei and Ostap hightail it back to the mountains in time to avoid this unfortunate extrication.

Even more miraculously, the Cossacks have been asked by the Poles to join them in a Holy War against the infidel in the Middle East. Taras has other plans. He joins all the Cossacks together and they march against the Poles rather than with them. The battle comes to a head when the Cossacks have surrounded the Poles in the walled city of Dubno. Taras gets the evil idea to simply let the Poles starve to death rather than charge the city. Soon, Dubno is wracked with starvation, cannibalism and the plague. Andrei, fearing for his Polish lover Natalia secretly enters the city and is soon faced with a very tragic decision – join the Poles against the Cossacks or go back to his father and let Natalia die.

Thanks to a great script and superb direction, this movie really barrels along head first. The battle sequences are stunningly directed and it’s truly amazing to see fully costumed armies comprised of hundreds and even thousands of extras (rather than today’s CGI armies). The romance is suitably syrupy – accompanied by Vaseline smeared iris shots and the humour as robust and full-bodied as one would expect from a movie about Cossacks. Franz Waxman’s score is absolutely out of this world, especially the “Ride to Dubno” (AKA “Ride of the Cossacks”) theme. The music carries the movie with incredible force and power – so much so that even cinema composing God Bernard Herrmann jealously proclaimed it as “the score of a lifetime”.

The movie’s two central performances are outstanding. Though Jack Palance (an actual Ukrainian from Cossack stock) turned the role down, he was replaced with Yul Brynner who, with his Siberian looks and Slavic-Asian countenance seems now to be the only actor who could have played Taras Bulba. Tony Curtis also makes for a fine figure of a Cossack. This strapping leading man of Hungarian-Jewish stock attacks the role with the kind of boyish vigour that one also cannot imagine anyone else playing Andrei (though at one point, Burt Lancaster had considered taking the role for himself since it was his company through Hecht that developed the property). The supporting roles are played by stalwart character actors like Sam Wanamaker as the one Cossack who gives Bulba some grief about fighting the Poles and George MacCready as the evil Polish rival of the Cossacks. Perry Lopez as Ostap is so obviously Latin that he seems a bit uncomfortable in the role of Ostap and Christine Kaufmann as Natalia is not much of an actress, but she’s so stunningly gorgeous that one can see why Curtis cheated on Janet Leigh and had a torrid open affair with Kaufmann during the shoot.

Taras Bulba is one stirring epic adventure picture. And yes, one wishes it took the darker paths that the original book ventured down, but it still manages to have a dollop of tragedy wending its way through this tale of warring fathers and their disobedient sons. And yes, as a Ukrainian, I do wish all the great Cossack songs had NOT been translated into English – especially since Yul Brynner would have been more than up to singing them in the original language. But these are minor quibbles. It’s a first rate, old-fashioned studio epic – big, sprawling, brawling and beautiful.

It’s definitely the cinematic equivalent of one fine coil of garlic sausage. So rip off a chub or two and slurp back the glory of Ukraine.

FEEL FREE TO ORDER THE FOLLOWING TARAS BULBA ITEMS DIRECTLY FROM THE LINKS BELOW AND YOU WILL BE CONTRIBUTING TO THE ONGOING MAINTENANCE OF THIS WEBSITE:



Here's the astounding "Ride to Dubno" sequence from TARAS BULBA with Franz Waxman's stunning score:

And strictly for listening pleasure, here's Franz Waxman's great "Ride to Dubno" theme from TARAS BULBA: