Showing posts with label Lesbian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lesbian. Show all posts

Wednesday, 22 April 2015

HOT DOCS 2015: THE AMINA PROFILE - Review By Greg Klymkiw ****

The Amina Profile (2015)
Dir. Sophie Deraspe

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Set against the turbulent backdrop of war-and-revolution in contemporary Syria we meet one hot French-Canadian babe in Montreal (Sandra Bagaria) and one hot Syrian-American babe in Damascus (Amina Arraf).

They meet online. They're young. They're in love.

They're lesbians.

Okay. That's it. Go see the movie.

Review over.


Oh, that's not fair. Here's a bit more to, uh, chew on:

Yesiree-bob, they're lesbians and they're totally into each other, wholly - in mind (what's some nice sapphic eroticism without a few healthy dollops of intellectual discourse) and in, oh yeah, baby, BODY. And let me tell ya', quicker than you can say "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi (ce soir)?", l'action de yum yum gets going and it's guaranteed to be hot and heavy.

'Nuff said.

No? Okay, check this out:

The rub, so to speak, is that they're separated by continents, culture and physical proximity, so they must create virtual worlds via text messaging and avatars to become one. Yes, it's cybersex, but no matter. This is a movie, so, via the film's director, we have mega-potential for lots of imagined, recreated hot caresses, tongue action, rug cleaning and soft, lithe, supple flesh against flesh to demonstrate for us, the unbridled passion unfurling in their respective loins - I mean, minds. Better yet, as the film progresses, they can well imagine what the real fireworks are going to be like when they finally meet.

So can we.

Yowza! Yowza! Yowza! Do I really need to keep writing?

I do? Well, okay. Don't mind if I do. Just thought you'd want to dispense with reading this review and just go see the movie (with a handy raincoat to place over your lap for any discrete digital manipulations you might wish to indulge in as the picture unspools).

So, where was I? Oh yes, so our two femmes are tres exotique and maybe, just maybe, the virtual will become a reality. There's danger, though. Sandra lives a fairly normal, comfy life in La Belle Province whilst Amina is surrounded by violence and political unrest during the Syrian uprising as its being quashed by the ruling patriarchy. Oh, and lest we forget, those of the LGBT persuasion are on the top of most Syrians' extermination lists which ups the suspense ante when brave Amina launches a blog entitled "A Gay Girl in Damascus" - a delicious blend of news, politics and ground zero reportage of the Syrian conflicts. The blog goes through the roof - journalists and news agencies from all over the world look to the "Gay Girl" for their news, until, the worst happens.

Amina tells Sandra that the secret police are on to her. It's scary stuff. She aspires to be a novelist and her blog posts and emails to her cyber-love are plenty evocative. She walks the streets of Damascus, attends rallies and protests, and at times, finds herself alone in the shadows of tiny labyrinthian walkways. All the while, she's convinced she's being followed. (The filmmaker delivers a whole lot of hazy dramatic recreations for us - a total bonus). Eventually, Amina informs Sandra that she needs to go further underground and that their communications will be sporadic and brief.

Then, nothing.

Amina completely disappears. The world is watching. Where is the Gay Girl in Damascus? Word travels through various underground and cyber channels that Amina has been kidnapped by the Syrian authorities and languishes in prison. Sandra is desperate. She launches an intense campaign to find and rescue Amina. With the help of Western activists and even American diplomatic channels (Amina is, after all, a dual American citizen), a tense, multilevelled investigation is underway. Mystery upon mystery begins to exponentially pile up and soon Sandra (and by extension, we, the audience) are ripped away like a Harlequin Romance heroine's bodice from a sex-drenched love story and plunged into a superbly complex thriller that keeps us wanting to know more.

And the more we (and Sandra know), the more we become afraid.

Very afraid.

And guess what? We're only a third of the way into the film. There's a lot more thrills and intrigue to enjoy.

AND it's all true.

Aside from the deftly directed dramatic recreations, skillfully edited with a myriad of other characters/subjects and interviews, The Amina Profile is never less than jangling, compulsive viewing. Where it goes, you'll never know until you see it. Once you do see it, as the suspenseful pieces of the puzzle slowly, creepily and shockingly fall into place, you'll find yourself registering surprise at every turn of every corner. You'll be confronted with the deep, dark mysteries of international intrigue amidst violent revolution as well as the strange, dark corners of cyberspace.

The picture's a corker. In fact, The Amina Profile might be one of the most vital contemporary films to examine how loneliness coupled with activism yields a Knossos-like journey to a shocking reality of what all of us face in parallel worlds - those in which we question and alternately, those we do not.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: **** Four Stars

The Amina Profile will have its Toronto Premiere at HOT DOCS 2015. For schedule and tickets, visit the Hot Docs website HERE.

Wednesday, 15 April 2015

Greg Klymkiw' presents his HOT DOCS 2015 HOT PICKS #2: THE AMINA PROFILE **** and ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD ***

Greg Klymkiw presents his HOT DOCS 2015 HOT PICKS #2

For the next fourteen days I will only review movies I liked, loved or that totally blew me away during the 2015 Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival in Toronto, Canada. Life is short. I won't bother reviewing movies that were godawful, mediocre or just plain okay. Note my picks, mark your calendars and save some precious hours, days and weeks of your life on planet Earth. Instead, spend it travelling the world via one of cinema's most vital genres.

The Amina Profile (2015)
Dir. Sophie Deraspe

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Set against the turbulent backdrop of war-and-revolution in contemporary Syria we meet one hot French-Canadian babe in Montreal (Sandra Bagaria) and one hot Syrian-American babe in Damascus (Amina Arraf).

They meet online. They're young. They're in love.

They're lesbians.

Okay. That's it. Go see the movie.

Review over.


Oh, that's not fair. Here's a bit more to, uh, chew on:

Yesiree-bob, they're lesbians and they're totally into each other, wholly - in mind (what's some nice sapphic eroticism without a few healthy dollops of intellectual discourse) and in, oh yeah, baby, BODY. And let me tell ya', quicker than you can say "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi (ce soir)?", l'action de yum yum gets going and it's guaranteed to be hot and heavy.

'Nuff said.

No? Okay, check this out:

The rub, so to speak, is that they're separated by continents, culture and physical proximity, so they must create virtual worlds via text messaging and avatars to become one. Yes, it's cybersex, but no matter. This is a movie, so, via the film's director, we have mega-potential for lots of imagined, recreated hot caresses, tongue action, rug cleaning and soft, lithe, supple flesh against flesh to demonstrate for us, the unbridled passion unfurling in their respective loins - I mean, minds. Better yet, as the film progresses, they can well imagine what the real fireworks are going to be like when they finally meet.

So can we.

Yowza! Yowza! Yowza! Do I really need to keep writing?

I do? Well, okay. Don't mind if I do. Just thought you'd want to dispense with reading this review and just go see the movie (with a handy raincoat to place over your lap for any discrete digital manipulations you might wish to indulge in as the picture unspools).

So, where was I? Oh yes, so our two femmes are tres exotique and maybe, just maybe, the virtual will become a reality. There's danger, though. Sandra lives a fairly normal, comfy life in La Belle Province whilst Amina is surrounded by violence and political unrest during the Syrian uprising as its being quashed by the ruling patriarchy. Oh, and lest we forget, those of the LGBT persuasion are on the top of most Syrians' extermination lists which ups the suspense ante when brave Amina launches a blog entitled "A Gay Girl in Damascus" - a delicious blend of news, politics and ground zero reportage of the Syrian conflicts. The blog goes through the roof - journalists and news agencies from all over the world look to the "Gay Girl" for their news, until, the worst happens.

Amina tells Sandra that the secret police are on to her. It's scary stuff. She aspires to be a novelist and her blog posts and emails to her cyber-love are plenty evocative. She walks the streets of Damascus, attends rallies and protests, and at times, finds herself alone in the shadows of tiny labyrinthian walkways. All the while, she's convinced she's being followed. (The filmmaker delivers a whole lot of hazy dramatic recreations for us - a total bonus). Eventually, Amina informs Sandra that she needs to go further underground and that their communications will be sporadic and brief.

Then, nothing.

Amina completely disappears. The world is watching. Where is the Gay Girl in Damascus? Word travels through various underground and cyber channels that Amina has been kidnapped by the Syrian authorities and languishes in prison. Sandra is desperate. She launches an intense campaign to find and rescue Amina. With the help of Western activists and even American diplomatic channels (Amina is, after all, a dual American citizen), a tense, multilevelled investigation is underway. Mystery upon mystery begins to exponentially pile up and soon Sandra (and by extension, we, the audience) are ripped away like a Harlequin Romance heroine's bodice from a sex-drenched love story and plunged into a superbly complex thriller that keeps us wanting to know more.

And the more we (and Sandra know), the more we become afraid.

Very afraid.

And guess what? We're only a third of the way into the film. There's a lot more thrills and intrigue to enjoy.

AND it's all true.

Aside from the deftly directed dramatic recreations, skillfully edited with a myriad of other characters/subjects and interviews, The Amina Profile is never less than jangling, compulsive viewing. Where it goes, you'll never know until you see it. Once you do see it, as the suspenseful pieces of the puzzle slowly, creepily and shockingly fall into place, you'll find yourself registering surprise at every turn of every corner. You'll be confronted with the deep, dark mysteries of international intrigue amidst violent revolution as well as the strange, dark corners of cyberspace.

The picture's a corker. In fact, The Amina Profile might be one of the most vital contemporary films to examine how loneliness coupled with activism yields a Knossos-like journey to a shocking reality of what all of us face in parallel worlds - those in which we question and alternately, those we do not.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: **** Four Stars

The Amina Profile will have its Toronto Premiere at HOT DOCS 2015. For schedule and tickets, visit the Hot Docs website HERE.


All The Time In The World (2014)
Dir. Suzanne Crocker

Review By Greg Klymkiw

A happy, progressive family from Dawson City realize that the stress of modern living is wreaking havoc with their quality of life and creating barriers between honest, real communication in their home. They do what many dream about, but never do - they pack their bags with kids, cat and dog in tow and hightail it up north to the most isolated reaches of the Yukon to live for a year completely off-grid. Mom (Director, Producer and Cinematographer Suzanne Crocker) also decided to document the family's journey and given how much old settler-style toil the family endures (especially during the first third of the picture), she probably deserves some manner of SuperMom Oblation to have made a movie and carried on like Honest Abe Lincoln's Mom must have done in that old log cabin.

Happily, we don't spend too much time in the city, nor are we subjected to what must have been a seeming lifetime of rumination, then planning and finally getting everything ready that they're going to need to live on in the middle of nowhere - a place bereft of any means to communicate with the outside world. We get just enough of the aforementioned so we can get to the good stuff.

And wow! What good stuff! We get to experience the utter drudgery of carting what seems like half the contents of a storage locker warehouse from their boat up to the cabin deep in the forest, building a humungous above-ground storage facility for their food, rigging a platform to pull their boat onto dry ground for the winter and a whole whack of other necessary duties to get themselves set up.

I was especially delighted to note that the family brought along archery gear, big sharp blades and firearms. I know from experience that the wilderness can be home to bears, wolves, coyotes and perhaps, most menacing of all, inbred country cousins. My fingers were crossed. All good storytellers know you don't introduce weaponry into your yarn without making good use of them.

The film has a unique three-act structure which naturally follows the events of the family's journey, but clearly much effort and thought has been placed into evoking more than mere narrative beats. What the film provides us with is the actual tone and almost poetic nature of this lifestyle. The family have no phones, no computers, no radios, no television sets, no walks, no CBs and perhaps most importantly, no clocks of any kind. The sense of time having no meaning is something the film beautifully evokes. We get to experience genuine conversations, the simple pleasures of reading aloud, preparing all the food from scratch, chopping firewood (one of my personal favourites - NOT!) and endlessly hauling buckets of water up and down a steep, rugged hill (double NOT on this for me).


There's fun, of course: skating on rivers, ice-sledding, playing in the snow, building a huge tent which gets covered with snow (becoming a cool clubhouse/fort) and even celebrating events like Halloween and Christmas in ways unique to the isolated setting. There's also a real sense that the family is in on stuff together - the kids often present very cool ideas and contributions to their lifestyle. There's danger, too. (No, the inbred country cousins haven't shown up yet.) There's a humungous snow storm and Dad's out in the wilds on his own, thus injecting a few beats of genuine tension.

What the film does not show (or chooses not to show) is the kind of nasty, verbal sparring that can rear its ugly head when family or friends are afflicted with cabin fever. I longed, with baited-breath for some Edward Albee or Eugene O'Neill-like acrimony - Mom and Dad sloshing back several beakers of rotgut then hurling barbs of verbal abuse at each other while the children cower in the corner.

Oh well, they seem like nice people. I cannot fault them for that.

Finally, what really hits home (at least for me) is the silence and then realizing, life in the middle of nowhere is NEVER silent, but that the sounds of the natural world are not unlike a gorgeous symphony orchestra. I personally know quite a bit about living off-grid (because I indeed do) and certainly found much in the film I was able to connect with, but even I couldn't do what this family did. They're not simply off-grid for most of the picture's running time, they might as well be off the planet. Me, I need my shortwave radio to listen to crazy survivalists and evangelists barking madly into the deep night and while I'm perfectly adept at chopping wood, I much prefer getting one of the locals to dump a few cord of wood every six months or so. I do, however, enjoy stacking it.

Much to my consternation, the inbred country cousins never do show up. Damn! I harboured images of Dad blowing the grizzled, drooling psychopaths away while the kids got into the action with bows, arrows, knifes and axes. (Mom would be filming all this, of course.) I was ready to throw in the towel when the reality of this hit me. However, an unexpected visitor DOES show up and yes, the gun must be fired.

This made me happy. Then again, don't mind me. As James Cagney would always say in Raoul Walsh's Strawberry Blonde, "It's just the kind of hairpin I am."

THE FILM CORNER RATING: *** Three Stars

All The Time In The World will have its Toronto Premiere at HOT DOCS 2015. For schedule and tickets, visit the Hot Docs website HERE.

Monday, 17 June 2013

MARGARITA - Lesbian, Latina Nanny is the focus of this Horrendous low-budget Canadian movie.


Margarita (2012) *
Dir. Dominique Cardona and Laurie Colbert
Starring: Nicola Correeia-Damude, Patrick McKenna, Christine Horne, Claire Lautier, Maya Ritter

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Picture. Start. A bevy of babes in a variety of shades – a gelato assortment of white coconut, dark mocha, creamy hazelnut and of course, one fiery red-hot goblet of apricot spiced with chili peppers (Margarita, the title character) – begin their SloMo descent into a steamy hot tub.

Nary a one is naked. Strike One. The soundtrack belts out the Gypsy Kings – or rather, some equally horrendous facsimile of said annoying guitar pickers. Only a pseudo-Theodorakis bouzouki score would be more repulsive. Strike Two. Oh, but hold on a second, things might get interesting. The attractive strawberry blonde babe slo-mos towards the stunningly delectable Latina treat. They kiss.

Safe on first base. For now.

Cut to a babe in the back seat of a moving car. She looks forlornly out the window as a bleak winter scene rushes by. She breathes gently onto the cold window and etches something within the thin layer of frost with her finger, but changes her mind and erases it. Hmmmm. Something is bothering her. Do we want to know what it is? Not really. We’re hoping to get back to the frolicking lesbians in the hot tub.

Oh, phew! We’re back. The SloMo hot tub action is surely going to crank up into the stratosphere as the Mocha Babe fires up a dubie. YES! Clothes will come off! This is promising, even though the sickening Gypsy Kings wanna-be music is scraping at our eardrums.

Ah, Jesus Christ! We’re out of the lesbo action again. A car pulls up to a big, old upscale house. As the car slows down, a tow truck backs up to it and the driver of the car, the babe who previously was looking forlornly out the passenger-side window, jumps out and starts yelling at the tow truck driver. He informs her he’s repossessing the vehicle. Now all I can think about is: why is this woman driving a car when she was just previously NOT driving the car? I slap myself. Pay attention to the – ahem – story (one that managed to take three people to write).

Okay, but now my head is bursting with questions. All I can think about is the logic and reality behind this repossession sequence. Luckily, for the filmmakers, I worked as a Repo Man for two weeks during my slacker McJob Days in the 80s and I’m also freshly reminded of that halcyon epoch because I recently watched Alex Cox’s Repo Man, a movie that inspired me to seek out the aforementioned job (which I eventually quit to work as a window clerk at the racetrack). So all I’m thinking about now is how amazingly stupid either the script or the character of the forlorn woman is. Maybe it’s a bit of both.

So imagine this. Put yourself in the shoes of the forlorn woman. The street is empty. There are no parked cars in front or behind you. A tow truck miraculously appears out of nowhere and begins backing up towards you. You know goddamn well you haven’t been making your car payments, so instead of backing up, slamming into drive and pulling a sharp U-turn on the empty street and zig-zagging your way out of the neighbourhood, you get out of the car (that, let me remind you, appears to be a car you weren’t driving a few seconds earlier) and you start arguing with the tow truck driver (who is apparently doubling as a Repo Man) whilst he hitches up to your vehicle. Even more inexplicably, your Hubby is getting embarrassed and offers up his testicles on a platter by apologizing to the tow-truck-driving Repo Man. Now we know who wears the pants in the family – and, of course, who drives the car – even though it’s impossible to do so when sitting forlornly and etching in the passenger-side window frost.

Now, if we’re to believe the tow-truck driver is also the Repo Man, we begin to wonder why he’s towing the car away with its delinquent owners in full view. Gee, I guess he’s just not a very good Repo Man. After all, a Repo Man would normally stake out the scene and wait until the car’s occupants go into the house, whereupon he’d can hitch up and tow the vehicle away with no muss, no fuss because he’s not even required to serve papers as notices would have been mailed about the repossession order a few weeks earlier. To be a Repo-Man is to be a legal car thief and get away with it as surreptitiously as humanly possible.

To make matters worse (and by this point – it’s Strike Three and the picture’s out), a teenage girl saunters up to the scene, pulls out her cel phone and calls the hot tub lesbians to say the owners are home early. Huh? Eventually, we find out that the teenager is the daughter of the Mom and Dad and when we shouldn’t be thinking about this a couple of scenes later, all we CAN think about is why she seemed less concerned about the family car being repossessed and instead was warning the lesbians. This is especially head-scratching since the Hot Tamale and her Aryan Princess are lolling in the tub with nary a concern while all the other lesbians freak out upon hearing the news and inexplicably rush out of the tub even though the aforementioned Miss Tamale informs them that she is allowed to have friends over anytime she likes WHICH, presumably the teenage daughter would be aware of. Even more ludicrous is how quickly the fleeing lesbians manage to dry-off and dress in full winter gear and titter out the front door in full view of the owners of the house.

Oh, and why WAS the teenage daughter walking towards all the repossession action as if she’d been coming from down the block? Wasn’t she in the car when it first pulled up? Wait a minute. Was SHE the forlorn woman looking out the window? Maybe, but now I feel like a pedophile because my first impression of her in the car was to think, hey, she’s quite a babe. Worse yet, when I’m sitting in a movie theatre, I’m not about to have the ability to rewind to find out (and if I have to do this at home watching on DVD, it’s never a good sign). Even more egregious, in what’s a relatively simple (and ultimately simple-minded) movie, the entire running time is rife with moments like this. We’re continually taken out of the story’s action (such as it is) by sloppy writing and even sloppier filmmaking.

The idiocies continue in ample abundance during this opening. While the car is being repossessed and wifey transforms into a shrieking harridan and hubby shrinks evermore into a kind of Wally Cox-like Mr. Peepers, the Tamale and the Ice Queen are nuzzling each other in the hot tub and a long conversation ensues about why they should get married and why the Ice Queen never introduces the Tamale to her friends and family and between both of these conversations, a whole whack of exposition is shoehorned into the proceedings until we finally figure out that the Tamale is the teenage girl’s nanny, is on call 24 hours, that Mom and Dad are in a financial sinkhole because Dad’s made unwise investments and Mom’s blown all the rest of the dough on pilates, cosmetics, home renovations, designer clothes and God knows what else.

And why the hell DID the family come home early? They were supposed to be on a skiing trip for the ENTIRE weekend. Instead, they drove to and from the resort in six hours, decided to cancel the trip because there was no snow and all this in spite of the fact that I recall seeing plenty of snow in the exteriors, though in fairness, the snow does seem to miraculously thin out a few minutes later. As well, who in their right mind goes up to a lodge for a weekend getaway and goes home when they discover they can’t ski? Most lodges offer fabulous discounts in such instances and are still a nice getaway. In retrospect I’ll acknowledge that maybe the family is too harried financially to be thinking this way, but on the other hand, given the family’s penchant for upper-middle-class spend-thriftiness, I don’t buy it for a second.

While Mom and Dad continue to argue – well, Mom’s arguing, Dad’s smoking a joint – the teenage girl offers romantic advice to the Tamale and warns that the Ice Queen is not a good match. Before you know it, Miss Tamale suggests they bike down to the local cinema and catch a movie and lo and behold, when just minutes earlier the sky was thick with grey clouds and the streets had snow on them, the sun is shining brightly and what appear to be blobs of cotton rolls, lightly adorn the ground and then, just as quickly, as the bike ride continues, there’s tons of snow all over the place.

Folks, this is approximately only ten minutes into the movie. Ten minutes! This is the point when one should be saying, okay, a rocky start, but now things are rolling and maybe the picture’s going to finally settle in and offer a few or perhaps, many, delights that up to this point have thus eluded it. No such luck. The movie gets worse.

We essentially have to suffer through a horrendous plot in which the not-so-affluent-anymore parents have to fire Miss Tamale. This, of course, is going to be hard to do as the Nanny is perfect. Perfect in every way - a Latina Mary Poppins, she's been with the family for years and has essentially been a surrogate mother to the teenage girl. As she’s an illegal, this firing could eventually result in her deportation. We have to suffer through a myriad of romantic trials and tribulations. We have to suffer through by-rote attempts the character must endure to try and get her life together. We have to suffer through endless pseudo-lovemaking and lollygagging with that awful score which attempts slight variations on the Gypsy Kings theme and veers into Muzak territory – a kind of Esquivel as filtered through Mantovani (but nowhere near as ripe as such a combo would be). Then, somewhat distastefully we are dragged into the ludicrous sub-plot of the teenage daughter pronouncing she wants to be bi-sexual because she admires her Hot Tamale Nanny so much.

Give me a break.

Some of these plot points might have been bearable, but the tone of the movie is unsure, most of the dialogue horrendously clichéd and on the nose and all the stitching and details of the movie are so sloppily rendered from a storytelling standpoint, it's virtually impossible to connect on any meaningful level with any of the characters. The overwhelming emphasis on Nanny Margarita's utter perfection doesn't help matters - especially when the film clumsily attempts to balance this out, but instead makes the character occasionally without appeal.

This is a dreadful film. It’s apparently won a myriad of audience awards at a variety of good film festivals including Toronto’s Inside Out, the Women’s Film Festival in France, and God Help Us All, a Best Feature Film prize at the Barcelona International Film Festival. Were the audiences and juries on crack or were they so desperate for a fake, incompetent movie with beautiful people pretending to be, uh, real?

We’ll never know, but one thing I am happy to say in the film’s favour is that its leading lady Nicola Correia Damude has movie star written all over her. She manages to raise herself above the mediocre noodlings of the filmmakers and prove that the camera loves her, that she knows how to work the camera and that at some point, she’ll get a role or two that will put her completely over the top. The rest of the cast also handle themselves as well as can be expected and happily don’t completely embarrass themselves by inhabiting this execrably written and directed movie.

Of course, the film has been made on a shoestring budget, which might account for SOME of the continuity gaffes, but the real problems lie NOT in production value, but in the very things that make a movie worthwhile – a good story well told. Alas, when one watches a movie and ALL THE WAY THROUGH IT one is being taken out of whatever meager drama is on display by elements that should have been worked out on the page and/or by the filmmaker, then there’s no excusing whatever good intentions it might have had. Good intentions never make a good movie. Then again, neither does incompetence.

"Margarita" is the Opening Night Gala of the Toronto Female Eye Film Festival 2013 and will enjoy a theatrical run at the Magic Lantern Carlton Cinema.

Sunday, 10 March 2013

CLOUDBURST - Thom Fitzgerald's exquisite new film is playing theatrically all across Canada with the fantastic support of indie cinemas and smaller chains across the country, but NO real support from the supposedly all-Canadian exhibition chain (with a virtual monopoly - ahem - I mean, market share) Cineplex Entertainment. This is yet another example of Cineplex Entertainment's - ahem - stellar support of Canadian Cinema. If you have not yet seen CLOUDBURST - NOW IS THE TIME!!! Below find current playdates, a rave review of the film and some thoughts about how Cineplex Entertainment might deliver even more playdates for this and other Canadian films.

Oscar Winners Olympia Dukakis & Brenda Fricker
Here is a complete list of CLOUDBURST playdates across Canada. 
You have NO EXCUSE to miss this TERRIFIC Canadian MOVIE with BIG STARS, and a GREAT STORY from a GREAT DIRECTOR. 
NO EXCUSES ALLOWED! NONE! NONE WHATSOEVER!!!  

ONTARIO PLAYDATES:
TORONTO: Playing until March 14 at The Carlton Cinema
SUDBURY: Playing until March 14 at Rainbow Cinemas
PETERBOROUGH: Playing March 18 at Galaxy Theatres
WATERLOO: Playing March 26-27 at Princess Cinema

YARMOUTH: Playing until March 14 at Empire Cinemas

VANCOUVER: March 15 - April 1 at Vancity Theatre

EDMONCHUCK: Playing until March 13 at Metro Cinema
"Metro" is a nice Ukrainian first-name.
Special note to Ukes in Edmonchuck:
Prove how progressive your kind has become.
See the movie at Metro Cinema.
Name your first-born male child Metro.
Name your first-born female child Olympia.
(Greeks brought Christianity to Ukraine, after all)

The delightful maniacs at the lovely Mayfair Theatre in Ottawa posted this humungolicious poster of my original review in their front window.


Please note, HOWEVER: There is only ONE date on the aforementioned list at a theatre from the Cineplex Entertainment chain, a supposedly all-Canadian company with a virtual monopoly over exhibition in this country.

Cloudburst is a THEATRICAL feature. More importantly, it is a Canadian theatrical feature - and, I might add a commercial one. Alas, Canada's major exhibitor Cineplex Entertainment, rather than displaying the sort of vision I used to take pride in Canadians having, has scuttled into the unimaginative, lazy realm of American-styled notion of biggest return for least investment (and work - God forbid the rich from working). If Cineplex displayed even a pubic hair's worth of vision that Canadian independents and smaller exhibition chains have displayed, we could actually have something resembling a far more successful and vibrant THEATRICAL industry of feature film.

For films like Cloudburst (and many others) television, PPV, VOD, etc. are the LAZY WAY of exhibiting THEATRICAL FEATURE FILMS. They need a decent theatrical life to begin with - THEN everything should follow. The Americans (both distribution and exhibition) are rolling over independent and foreign films on their tummies and freely offering up the respective prostate glands of indie product to TV, PPV, VOD instead of WORKING for a living (which theatrical exhibition truly is).

Canadian feature films are at an even bigger disadvantage. If one TRULY STUDIES the history of exhibition and distribution in this country (as I and those who I can count on two hands have done), the cold, hard facts are that cinema in Canada, most notably English-language Canadian cinema didn't ever have a proper chance to get on its feet. My argument is not specifically to do with financing, but proper exhibition of Canadian films. Cineplex Entertainment can more than afford to do it, but it takes someone in the organization to do it properly with a decent budget to LOSE MONEY to eventually MAKE MORE than they could have imagined.

Our brave boys in World War I, whose corpses fertilize Europe, were the real spirit of Canada. That spirit seemed to die on those battlefields while the Status Quo who sent them to die in the first place, insidiously and slowly pulled the strings of both government and visionary entrepreneurship to make a lot of money for the very few.

Screw the Canadian people.

Screw Canadian Culture.

Screw Canada.

I blame Canadian producers, too. Those who are led to the trough could care less and all the rest are quivering in their boots to do anything about this. Nothing's going to change until EVERYONE in this industry marches into Chair Phyllis Yaffe's office at Cineplex Entertainment (or perhaps the office of the company's head film buyer Michael Kennedy), occupies it and chants incessantly, "I'm Mad as Hell and I'm not going to take it anymore."

The solution to this issue MUST come from within and it cannot be half-assed. I'm so sick of seeing exhibition, distribution and production in this country handled in the most lazy, vision-bereft and greedy manner. An all-Canadian entertainment company with a virtual monopoly has a responsibility to Canadian culture and, frankly, their own self worth as a potentially important corporate entity that actually displays its balls, vulvas and vision where it counts.

Does the industry need to perpetuate the models it created and that new generations merely accept? I began my life in this business over 30 years ago in journalism, THEN; exhibition, film buying and distribution before moving into producing and I lived through that world before, during and after. One thing I know is that models can be changed for the better and that cycles of this sort of corporate stupidity/laziness are often manufactured by the puppeteers. As producers are a viable force in the industry, they have a right to lobby violently for proper exhibition models. They MUST violently lobby for this.

The new model of limited (or worse, NO) theatrical realease followed by home viewing opportunities (which, frankly, used to be called "ancillaries") is pathetic - a pale shadow of what still could be revived, restored and revitalized for the next century and beyond. There is a strong aesthetic argument to be made for revitalizing big screen bricks and mortar experiences for ALL audiences. Granted, I'd need about 2000 words or so (if not more) to adequately explain (with a proper historical context) WHY there is a difference aesthetically between a film intended for theatrical release and one intended for home viewing. One only needs to look at any theatrical original (let's say Sam Raimi's wonderful Darkman) and its straight-to-home-viewing sequels. The latter are not only cheaper, but the story aesthetics are sans the same levels of high stakes AND sweep. One can compare this easily to the Sam Raimi Spider-Man films where II was even better than I because it was infused with the aforementioned attributes. By the way, I'm using big genre pictures as examples because they refute the notion that all Hollywood product is aimed at young audiences - ultimately the aforementioned titles were celebrated by all on the big screen. (The pathetic Spidey reboot was not.)

The bottom line is that there is a lot of truth to the old adage: "Everything old becomes new again." It's never too late to restore the glory of movie-going for ALL. It takes WORK and VISION - both of which are ALWAYS worth cherishing. Theatrical IS a real release for motion pictures crafted as such. Never mind small indie films (or most Canadian films). Under the current exhibition/distribution system, we'd NEVER see films like Warren Beatty's Reds or Pollack's Out of Africa or Cimino's The Deer Hunter. The list goes on and on and that's truly, deeply and madly sad.

All those extended series on HBO etc. that have an epic scope are a completely different medium than theatrical. Ridiculously, some will argue that they replace real adult-oriented epics made for the big screen. They should enrich the choices, not replace them. Adults WILL go to great movies: big, medium or small - it's the industry that requires the VISION to make it so.

When I was a film buyer in the early 80s, the country was overflowing with bricks and mortar cinemas - almost every small town or city had one. These were my primary clients. When the studios began closing the windows between theatrical release and video release, it destroyed most of those brick and mortal businesses. I saw it with my own eyes and experienced the deep sadness of this. It was like the 50s of Larry McMurtry's The Last Picture Show (which, as a movie, would never be made today as a theatrical feature) happening all over again. The industry created this - it was easier, less work.

It's laziness - pure and simple.

Fitzgerald's Cloudburst and so many other worthy Canadian films are not only stuck in this mire, but plunged even deeper due to the ludicrous history of English-Canadian exhibition and distribution.

While I think it's great that independent Canadian cinemas and smaller chains are picking up the slack and exercising their responsibility to their Canadian audiences to play great Canadian films (and I'd never want to see this change), the fact remains that Cineplex Entertainment has a CORPORATE RESPONSIBILITY to support the exhibition of Canadian Cinema. There are plenty of cities and communities in Canada that have yet to play Cloudburst - many of these cities have Cineplex Entertainment-controlled multiplexes (like the Galaxy Theatres). In addition to presenting foreign opera, theatre and films (the recent Cineplex Digital Film Series) should  - for LIMITED PLAYDATES - be carving out a niche for the Canadian Cinema through their Front Row Centre Events (not if they do it half-assedly, though). On the Cineplex webite, they tout their Front Row Centre Events thusly:

Front Row Centre Events: Bring the world of entertainment to your community and put you in the centre of the action with the best seats in the house! Presented in High Definition via satellite with Digital Surround Sound onto screens as large as 60 feet wide. These programs are unique and Cineplex Entertainment is pleased to be presenting them in theatres across the country.

Audiences across Canada have already enjoyed the sights and sounds of spectacular performances ranging from the Metropolitan Opera to World Wrestling Entertainment. Canadians are laughing along with the world's funniest comedians or rockin' with some of the world's greatest musicians right in their own local movie theatre. There's more!! Live speaking engagements, documentaries, family programs and world premieres are just the beginning. Cineplex Entertainment continuously shops the world of entertainment for the most exclusive events, guaranteed to take your breath away and put you front row centre!

The word "world" keeps popping up in all their bumph. It's great they're bringing the world to Canadian audiences, but how about bringing Canadian Cinema to Canadian audiences?

Now, after you read the review below, feel free to come back here and click on the link HERE for my commentary on Cineplex Entertainment's commitment to Canadian Cinema and some elaboration on how THEY as a major Canadian company can funnel some of their huge profits into an initiative that's not merely philanthropic, but one that could yield even more profits in the long-run.

If you build it, they will come.



Cloudburst (2011) dir. Thom Fitzgerald
Starring: Olympia Dukakis, Brenda Fricker, Ryan Doucette, Kristin Booth

****

By Greg Klymkiw

"They danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww!'" - Jack Kerouac, On The Road

The open road is freedom, but in reality and in the best popular culture, there is always a point where one must reach the end of the road. Sometimes it's sad and empty, sometimes it's not what you expected, often it's bittersweet. Whatever lies at the end of the journey, it's the ride that should always be the thing. It's what you discover and celebrate on the road that is often far more important than what's waiting there (if anything) when it ends.

Stella (Olympia Dukakis) and Dot (Brenda Fricker) have lived an incredible journey of love and mutual respect as a couple for over 30 years, but when circumstances seemingly beyond their control threaten the joy and happiness they've had, the open road becomes the only real way to obtain a pot of proverbial gold at the end of a new journey.

Family, it seems, is not always defined by blood - it takes love - and for this couple, family comes in the unlikeliest of places and circumstances. Love is what defines lives well lived and this couple have had love in spades, but in order to keep it unfettered from the unwelcome intrusion of a well meaning, but completely out-to-lunch blood relative - public affirmation becomes the ultimate goal. They must marry.

The problem is that they live in the United States and can only gain the legal status as a married couple in Canada. What's a foul-mouthed, cowboy-hat-adorned, k.d. lang-obsessed, self-described old dyke and her jolly, sweet, visually-impaired longtime companion to do? What would you do? Me, I'd hop in my half-ton pickup truck, stock it with k.d. lang CDs, pick up a hunky male hitchhiker headed to visit his ailing Mom in Nova Scotia and cross the 49th parallel to get myself good and hitched - kind of like Stella and Dot do in the lovely, funny and touching new film written and directed by Thom Fitzgerald.

Cloudburst is a movie that needed a deft directorial touch and a script that could take the cliches normally associated with road movies and generate truth, humanity and humour and thankfully, for the most part it succeeds in this regard.

For years I kept wondering when director Thom Fitzgerald, who made one of the most thrilling feature debuts of the 90s, The Hanging Garden, was going to generate a picture that fulfilled the considerable promise displayed in that exquisite heartbreaker of a movie. This is not to discount the intervening years of work, but Cloudburst feels like a return to form and, on occasion, a step or two forward.

Olympia Dukakis and Brenda Fricker are tremendous actresses, but given the emphasis these days upon demographics and the usual requirements from studios and other financiers to cater exclusively to younger audiences, the number of great roles for talents in this august age group are getting fewer-and-far-between-er. Fitzgerald crafted two roles that any great actress would love to sink her teeth into and frankly, Dukakis and Fricker are so captivating, moving and funny, I have to admit it feels like they were born to eventually step into these parts.

Set against the lush, superbly photographed backdrop of Nova Scotia, Fitzgerald took this story, a sort of gentle retirement-age Thelma and Louise, and both wisely and bravely delivered a tale that's as mature as it's downright universal. Love should have no boundaries and his direction indelibly captures a love story that's familiar, but bolstered by such genuine compassion, that I frankly can't imagine any audience not succumbing to it's considerable charms.

There are a few overwrought moments of humour that try a bit too hard, but for the most part, I found myself laughing heartily and genuinely and damn it all, I shed more than a few tears.

It's one of the few unabashedly sentimental celebrations of love I've seen in quite some time. The picture wears its heart proudly on its sleeve and while there's something just a little bit old-fashioned about that, Fitzgerald handles the proceedings with such grace, that everything old becomes happily new again. Some might choose to deny the power of sentiment, but they'd be lying (or just plain foolish). We all need sentiment from time to time and Cloudburst is the right time, the right place and just the right film to make us all feel grateful for the joy that life, with all its ups and downs, bestows upon us and hopefully prepares us for whatever journey we take beyond the end of the road.

"Cloudburst" is playing across Canada. See list of playdates above.

Wednesday, 23 May 2012

CLOUDBURST - Review By Greg Klymkiw - DO NOT MISS Thom Fitzgerald's hilarious AND moving love story at Toronto's Inside Out LGBT Film Festival on Friday, May 25, 7:15pm at TIFF Bell Lightbox


Cloudburst (2011) dir. Thom Fitzgerald
Starring: Olympia Dukakis, Brenda Fricker, Ryan Doucette, Kristin Booth

****

By Greg Klymkiw

"They danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww!'" - Jack Kerouac, On The Road

The open road is freedom, but in reality and in the best popular culture, there is always a point where one must reach the end of the road. Sometimes it's sad and empty, sometimes it's not what you expected, often it's bittersweet. Whatever lies at the end of the journey, it's the ride that should always be the thing. It's what you discover and celebrate on the road that is often far more important than what's waiting there (if anything) when it ends.

Stella (Olympia Dukakis) and Dot (Brenda Fricker) have lived an incredible journey of love and mutual respect as a couple for over 30 years, but when circumstances seemingly beyond their control threaten the joy and happiness they've had, the open road becomes the only real way to obtain a pot of proverbial gold at the end of a new journey.

Family, it seems, is not always defined by blood - it takes love - and for this couple, family comes in the unlikeliest of places and circumstances. Love is what defines lives well lived and this couple have had love in spades, but in order to keep it unfettered from the unwelcome intrusion of a well meaning, but completely out-to-lunch blood relative - public affirmation becomes the ultimate goal. They must marry.

The problem is that they live in the United States and can only gain the legal status as a married couple in Canada. What's a foul-mouthed, cowboy-hat-adorned, k.d. lang-obsessed, self-described old dyke and her jolly, sweet, visually-impaired longtime companion to do? What would you do? Me, I'd hop in my half-ton pickup truck, stock it with k.d. lang CDs, pick up a hunky male hitchhiker headed to visit his ailing Mom in Nova Scotia and cross the 49th parallel to get myself good and hitched - kind of like Stella and Dot do in the lovely, funny and touching new film written and directed by Thom Fitzgerald.

Cloudburst is a movie that needed a deft directorial touch and a script that could take the cliches normally associated with road movies and generate truth, humanity and humour and thankfully, for the most part it succeeds in this regard.

For years I kept wondering when director Thom Fitzgerald, who made one of the most thrilling feature debuts of the 90s, The Hanging Garden, was going to generate a picture that fulfilled the considerable promise displayed in that exquisite heartbreaker of a movie. This is not to discount the intervening years of work, but Cloudburst feels like a return to form and, on occasion, a step or two forward.

Olympia Dukakis and Brenda Fricker are tremendous actresses, but given the emphasis these days upon demographics and the usual requirements from studios and other financiers to cater exclusively to younger audiences, the number of great roles for talents in this august age group are getting fewer-and-far-between-er. Fitzgerald crafted two roles that any great actress would love to sink her teeth into and frankly, Dukakis and Fricker are so captivating, moving and funny, I have to admit it feels like they were born to eventually step into these parts.

Set against the lush, superbly photographed backdrop of Nova Scotia, Fitzgerald took this story, a sort of gentle retirement-age Thelma and Louise, and both wisely and bravely delivered a tale that's as mature as it's downright universal. Love should have no boundaries and his direction indelibly captures a love story that's familiar, but bolstered by such genuine compassion, that I frankly can't imagine any audience not succumbing to it's considerable charms.

There are a few overwrought moments of humour that try a bit too hard, but for the most part, I found myself laughing heartily and genuinely and damn it all, I shed more than a few tears.

It's one of the few unabashedly sentimental celebrations of love I've seen in quite some time. The picture wears its heart proudly on its sleeve and while there's something just a little bit old-fashioned about that, Fitzgerald handles the proceedings with such grace, that everything old becomes happily new again. Some might choose to deny the power of sentiment, but they'd be lying (or just plain foolish). We all need sentiment from time to time and Cloudburst is the right time, the right place and just the right film to make us all feel grateful for the joy that life, with all its ups and downs, bestows upon us and hopefully prepares us for whatever journey we take beyond the end of the road.

"Cloudburst" is playing at Toronto's Inside Out LGBT Film Festival on Friday, May 25, 7:15pm at TIFF Bell Lightbox . For more information, visit the festival's website HERE.



Here are some Thom Fitzgerald movies you buy directly from here (and support this site) via Amazon.com and Amazon.ca: