THE SINGING ABORTIONIST - Review By Greg Klymkiw - The Toronto Jewish Film Festival (TJFF 2016) continues to deliver the goods with films ideal for their audiences, but frankly, they are playing films which should be played in a myriad of film festivals, Jewish or not. This fine documentary tells the story of a Canadian Hero who performed heroic feats the whole world should acknowledge and know about.

The Singing Abortionist (2015)
Dir. Dara Bratt

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Dr. Henry Morgentaler was a one-man army. Given his strength and perseverance, one is tempted to affix him with Schwarzenegger-like Commando-Terminator-Predator and Rambo attributes all rolled into one pumped-to-the-max-fighting-machine.

Morgentaler was pumped, alright, but not with freakishly enhanced testosterone, but rather, a passionate distaste for rules, regulations and laws which made little sense except to those who decreed them as such (and unlike cinematic one-man-armies, he was geeky, spindly, bespectacled and bearded).

The fact of the matter is that this brilliant, charming and committed "soldier" (who died in 2013 at the age of 90) fought valiantly for the rights of women in Canada, and by extension, the rest of the world.

Both loved and hated in his adopted country of Canada, his influence was felt the world over, yet very few outside its borders know his name. Dara Bratt's superb documentary The Singing Abortionist skilfully details his career as a kind, caring physician who specialized in providing abortions at a time when it was a criminal offence. He faced police harassment, prosecution, hatred, death-threats and prison, but nothing stopped him from allowing women the choice to safely terminate unwanted pregnancies.

His credo was simple: "to help people is not a crime" and in 1970, he delivered his famous press conference in which he admitted to having performed over 7000 "illegal" abortions - all with the highest level of medical care.

The film details all of this through a deft blend of interviews with the late Morgentaler (in addition to friends, family and supporters) and superbly chosen archival footage. It also provides an excellent summary of the landmark de-criminalization of abortion via two constitutional challenges he launched, one in 1975, which he lost (but bringing the issue to the fore), and then in 1988, which he won.

It's a thorough, loving biographical portrait which tells the story of a man who lived through Nazi-occupied Poland, first in the infamous ghetto of Łódź and then as a survivor of Dachau, through to his immigration to Canada, then his groundbreaking medical career and eventually, his life-long commitment to the rights of women.

Bratt does not avoid his personal life either - his complex, but eventually failed marriage, as well as his insatiable charm over a myriad of brilliant, beautiful women (not to mention his loving, but oft-estranged relationships with his children), all adds fleshing out a truly great man.

Morgentaler's experiences during the Holocaust also do not take a backseat - Bratt demonstrates how they fuelled him to always put what was right and just, first and foremost. The sadness and heartache of Dachau, did not crush him, it fuelled his desire to fight - not with bullets, but medicine and a huge sense of rebelliousness (he did, after all, perform an abortion - LIVE - on TV during Mother's Day of 1972).

On the surface, this is a simple, straightforward documentary, but it's executed with skill, passion and, in so doing, provides an extremely moving glimpse into the heart and soul of a warrior.

One sincerely hopes it will be seen as widely as possible so the world, beyond Canada, will be able to appreciate and acknowledge a true hero whose battles against the injustices so many women faced (and still, sadly, continue to face). As such, this film has considerable potential to continue Morgentaler's own unflagging war against ignorance and injustice.

By the way, The Singing Abortionist is such a great title, so apt, so inspirationally impudent, that I'll let you discover why when you make a point of seeing this important work.

The Film Corner Rating: **** 4-Stars

The Singing Abortionist enjoys its Toronto Premiere at the TJFF 2016.

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

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

By Sidney Lumet (2015)
Dir. Nancy Buirski

Review By Greg Klymkiw

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

DEMON - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Toronto Jewish Film Festival (TJFF 2016) - The late Marcin Wrona's dybbuk thriller one of the scariest, sickeningly creepy horror films of 2015

Demon (2015)
Dir. Marcin Wrona
Starring: Itay Tiran, Agnieszka Żulewska

Review By Greg Klymkiw

The dybbuk has always been one of the most bloodcurdling supernatural creatures, yet its presence in contemporary horror films has, for the most part, been surprisingly absent. Rooted in Jewish mythology, it is the spirit of someone who has suffered a great indignity just before death and seeks to adhere itself to the soul of a living person in order to end its own purgatorial suffering. Alas, it causes as much nerve-shredding pain to the spirit as it does to the body of the one who is possessed. Invading the physical vessel in which a fully formed spirit already resides is no easy task and can result in a battle of wills, which not only implodes within, but tends to explode into the material world with a vengeance.

Demon successfully and chillingly brings this nasty, unholy terror to where it belongs, upon the silver screen, as opposed to the natural world. The late Polish filmmaker Marcin Wrona (who died suddenly and mysteriously at age 42, just one week after the film’s world premiere at the 2015 Toronto International Film Festival) hooks us immediately and reels us in with an almost sadistically gleeful use of cinema’s power to assail us with suspense of the highest order.

On the eve of his wedding to the beautiful Zaneta (Agnieszka Żulewska), the handsome young groom Peter (Itay Tiran) discovers the remains of a long-dead corpse in an open grave on the grounds of his father-in-law’s sprawling country estate. He becomes obsessed with this ghoulish treasure lying within the unconsecrated earth of a property bestowed upon the couple as a wedding gift. Not only will the nuptials be performed and celebrated here, but the happy twosome have been blessed with this gorgeous old house and lands as their future home.

Much of the film’s stylishly creepy events take place over the course of the wedding day. Wrona juggles a sardonic perspective with outright shuddersome horror during the mounting drunken celebrations at this extremely traditional Polish wedding. As the band plays, the guests dance between healthy guzzles of vodka, whilst the dybbuk clings to the poor groom, his body and soul wracked with pain.

When Peter begins to convulse violently, the lone Jewish guest at the Roman Catholic wedding, an elderly academic, is the one person who correctly identifies the problem.

Wrona’s camera dips, twirls and swirls with abandon as the celebratory affair becomes increasingly fraught with a strange desperation. Are the guests merely addled with booze, or is the estate a huge graveyard of Jews murdered during the Holocaust?

Is it possible that an army of dybbuks is seeking an end to their lonely, painful purgatory?

Demon raises many questions, but supplies no easy answers. What it delivers, however, is one of the scariest, most sickeningly creepy horror films of the year. If anything, the dybbuk has finally found a home in the movies, and we’re the beneficiaries of Wrona’s natural gifts as a filmmaker, as well as the largesse of this ancient supernatural entity, which so happily enters our own collective consciousness as we experience its nail-biting havoc over a not-so-holy matrimonial union.

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

DEMON can be seen at the Toronto Jewish Film Festival (TJFF 2016). My review was first published at Electric Sheep - a deviant view of cinema.

NATASHA - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Stellar Opener for Toronto Jewish Film Festival 2016

Natasha (2015)
Dir. David Bezmozgis
Starring: Alex Ozerov, Sasha K. Gordon, Aidan Shipley, Deanna Dezmari

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Given the ongoing richness of the immigrant experience in Canada, a country with an official policy of multiculturalism, it's so important for our cultural industries to tell these stories and reflect our mosaic as it shifts across time. Natasha, written and directed by Canadian filmmaker David Bezmozgis is an especially layered, intelligent and evocative portrait of immigrant life in Canada.

To think of the utter waste of Canadian taxpayer dollars on a mind-numbingly mainstream and mediocre international co-production like Brooklyn (uh, a period piece about an Irish colleen finding romance in post-war New York) leaves a bitter taste, especially considering all the great stories to be told by talented filmmakers in Canada. Thankfully, the bilious sapidity forced upon our country's cultural palate by the sickeningly twee Brooklyn is replaced very nicely with the exquisite taste of Natasha.

Based on an original story by Bezmozgis, he has skillfully adapted it from a 90s setting to the contemporary northern suburbs of Toronto. Using the rich backdrop of the Eastern European (primarily Russian) Jewish community, we follow the story of handsome 16-year-old Mark (Alex Ozerov) as he whiles away his summer days amidst the relatively affluent greenery of the pleasantly sleepy enclave of wide streets, big garages and the seemingly endless rows of tastefully-designed (though unexceptional in their very modernity) homes.

Into this world comes the beautiful 14-year-old Natasha (Sasha K. Gordon). She is the daughter of a recent middle-aged immigrant from Moscow who will be marrying Mark's nebbishy Uncle. Family is family, though and Natasha will be Mark's cousin, if only by marriage. As such, he's recruited to be a tour guide to this seemingly shy young girl who speaks only Russian. She's not shy for long, though - at least not in Mark's presence.

It seems inevitable that they should fall for each other, but as the film progresses, deep secrets of Natasha's life in Russia are parcelled out and several family conflicts begin to rear their ugly heads to threaten the relationship. What's especially telling is the differences between the "new" immigrants (Natasha's Mother) and those who've had time to establish themselves in the "New World" (Mark's family). These contrasts are brilliantly juggled throughout the film since it is the differences which tend to provide the greatest conflict, but they do so in tandem with "old world" values which tend to creep into the proceedings.

The film is gorgeously written, most notably in terms of charting its narrative and rich characters in ways you never expect. Its very surface simplicity is what yields so many layers of complexity, humanity and rich, believable surprises. The film's subplots involving Mark's family and his friend, an amiable wealthy young man with a not-so straight-up interior, are also woven perfectly into the fabric of the story in ways that always surprise us.

There is, ultimately, no denying that Natasha is a love story within a coming-of-age tale, but in spite of its occasional forays into the familiar (that come with the territory of the genre) and the delightful gymnastics of youthful romance, Bezmozgis delivers a film that is as bitter as it is sweet. Bittersweet qualities in this genre can also be a dime a dozen, but happily the film shies away from the all the aforementioned tried and true elements by etching story beats that twist the familiar, all in ways closer to life itself.

As well, the movie is blessed with a stylistic adherence to letting drama play out naturally and the picture succeeds because of the filmmaker's very deft approach to neorealism.

Visually, Bezmozgis seeks simple, but dramatically resonant shots. With expert cinematography by Guy Godfree and first-rate production design elements (in particular the nice, subtle touches in the interior set dressing) and in addition to the very real locations, Bezmozgis allows his drama to play out with flourishes that are always discriminating. What's nice, and not unlike so many of Vittorio De Sica's masterful visual approaches, is that the film blends very classical shot structures with those that are as equally naturalistic (especially inherent in Godfree's lighting).

As a director with far more experience than this sophomore effort implies, Bezmozgis blocks the action of his cast so that they seem genuinely rooted in the place and time they occupy and the occasional plumes of breathtaking visuals occur in terms of both camera and the gorgeously paced and narratively effective editing by Michelle Szemberg. Like the best neorealism, we always feel like we're in a real place and time with equally real people (thanks also to a perfect cast), but, when dramatically necessary, our filmmaker sneaks a delicious frisson into the film to tantalize us and move us forward.

Bezmozgis achieves this by investing his imagery with several important visual signposts which have the effect of working on us inconspicuously - rooted naturally in setting and, most saliently, in the dramatic language of the film. Perhaps the most glorious example of this is the basement window of Mark's home, one which looks into his living quarters and reflects the light of day (or night) as the story proceeds. It's so evocative that it eventually becomes a kind of deliriously romantic image via Mark's point of view in the basement. When Bezmozgis reveals this point of view in reverse, the effect is heartbreaking.

Darkness is what ultimately wends its way through this moving, romantic tale. It makes the light seem brighter when it needs to be, but on occasion the light of day - in both exterior and interior settings - take on a portent which ultimately delivers on a classical coming-of-age story that hurts as much as it offers hope.

The hurt, is familiar - not familiar in terms of the filmmaking, but in the haunting and decidedly unidealistic experiences felt by the film's characters that we, as an audience, recognize in our own experience.

This, of course, is what makes terrific pictures. Natasha is one of them.

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

Natasha is the opening night film of the 2016 Toronto Jewish Film Festival and opens theatrically May 6, 2016 in Canada via Mongrel Media.

I, DALIO - OR THE RULES OF THE GAME - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Kudos to Toronto's Jewish Film Festival (TJFF16) presenting the NorthAmerican Premiere of one of the best portraits of acting in film in years, maybe ever! A startling portrait of racism in casting.

To be a great Jewish actor like Marcel Dalio
in Pre-War Paris meant to always play a Jew or Arab
and in either ethnicity, play a pimp, snitch, woman-beater,
gun-runner, smuggler, usurer, killer or coward.

I, Dalio - or the Rules of the Game (2015)
Dir. Mark Rappaport
Starring: Voice of Tito De Pinho as Marcel Dalio

Review By Greg Klymkiw

To be a great actor in pre-war France meant you were marginalized in ways that today's diversity-in-film whiners can't even begin to imagine.

I, Dalio - or the Rules of the Game is so damn wonderful. The picture completely immerses you the world of French actor Marcel Dalio and though it runs a mere 33 minutes, the picture never feels rushed and yet, when it's over, one feels replete in all the good ways movies should make you feel. You hope, youou wish it could keep going. Director Mark (Rock Hudson's Home Movies, From the Journals of Jean Seberg) Rappaport achieves what all filmmakers really want and that's to leave their audiences wanting more.

Meticulously, lovingly researched, we hear Dalio as a "character" telling his experiences as an actor in pre-war France, wartime America and postwar France and America. Dalio's "voice" is superbly rendered by Tito De Pinho with such passion and verve, we feel no doubt that the words are literally diary/journal/autobiography writings.

Using generous film clips, we discover how antisemitic France was. Dalio's looks forced him to play the Jew, or in some cases, the Arab. In every case he was portrayed as a snivelling pimp, black marketeer, snitch, gun-runner, petty criminal, usurer, killer and coward. Though his characters were never directly referred to as "a dirty Jew" (or Arab). In one film he is described as France's most successful usurer which was tantamount to saying he was a Jew.

Dalio as "Frenchy" in To Have and Have Not.
Dalio in Casablanca: "Your winnings, sir."

The only role he played in which he was allowed to be a Jew, but with a fully fleshed-out character and a positive spin in France was in Jean Renoir's WWI prison war drama, La Grande Illusion, and years later in Renoir's The Rules of the Game.

Leaving France for America, just prior to the Nazi occupation, Dalio was no longer singled out to be cast as a Jew or Arab. He became the dashing "Frenchman". In Howard Hawks's To Have and Have Not, Dalio played the heroic resistance smuggler "Frenchy". Inexplicably uncredited, Dalio gets one of the best moments in Casablanca when he approaches local constabulary Renault (Claude Rains) after the Vichy cop complains about the illegal gambling in Rick's Café Américain and Dalio, immediately shoving a wad of cash into Renault's hand, utters the immortal line, "Your winnings, Captain."

Dalio in the title role of Rabbi Jacob!

Post-war France brought somewhat less racist roles, but again, he was better cast in American cinema, once again, as a charming Frenchman. Finally, in France during the 1970s, Dalio was cast in the great comedic role of Rabbi Jacob

Rappaport's film is an exquisite memory piece and blessed with a very cool narrative structure. Ultimately, we see the story of a great actor, Jew or not, eventually playing what he was more than qualified to play - a romantic figure and a Frenchman. The whole affair, though, is played with a heartbreaking blend of triumph and sadness.

And I reiterate, what the great Dalio went through, makes contemporary "Oscars so White" actors in comparison, sound like mere killjoy crybabies.

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

I, Dalio - or the Rules of the Game makes its North American premiere at the Toronto Jewish Film Festival 2016. Try to see it on a big screen, preferably on a programme featuring Jean Renoir's La Grande Illusion and The Rules of the Game, but if the opportunity does not arise, you can watch it on Fandor.

Retrospective Programming a Hallmark of the Toronto Jewish Film Festival (TJFF 2016) Review By Greg Klymkiw of Jean Renoir's LA GRANDE ILLUSION, featuring famed French-Jewish actor Dalio in the role of a nouveau riche Jewish P.O.W. Film available for more detailed scrutiny on the magnificent O.O.P. Criterion Collection DVD replete with extras.

Posters for La Grande Illusion and images of fellow German P.O.W. camp escapees Jean Gabin and Marcel Dalio.

Heritage Cinema, Retrospective Programming:
Important Hallmarks of the Extremely Vital
Toronto Jewish Film Festival (TJFF)

2016 Edition of TJFF Unravels Gems
Reflecting Jewish Themes, Talent and Culture
Greg Klymkiw reviews Jean Renoir's masterpiece:

Germans will be Germans.
Luckily, the French will always be the French.

La Grande Illusion (1937)
Dir. Jean Renoir
Scr. Renoir & Charles Spaak
Starring: Jean Gabin, Marcel Dalio, Erich Von Stroheim, Pierre Fresnay,
Dita Parlo, Julien Carette, Gaston Modot, Jean Dasté, Georges Péclet

Review By Greg Klymkiw

La Grande Illusion might be the best film about the Great War ever made. Such a proclamation doesn't come lightly since there are a fine handful of WWI pictures vying for this accolade. King Vidor's The Big Parade, Lewis Milestone's All Quiet On The Western Front, Frank Borzage's A Farewell To Arms, Edmund Goulding's The Dawn Patrol, Powell/Pressburger's The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp, Stanley Kubrick's Paths of Glory and Peter Weir's Gallipoli are all first-rate explorations of the bloodiest, meanest war of the 20th Century. All are replete with filmmaking artistry of the highest order and infused with the kind of emotional depth charges guaranteed to explode one's tear ducts into shards of salty droplets of emotion.

But no, Jean Renoir wins hands down from my perspective.

Well ahead of its time Renoir's masterpiece presents a positive antidote to Europe's rampant antisemitism with the character of Rosenthal (played by immortal French-Jewish actor Dalio), a nouveau riche Jewish P.O.W. who shares his family's care packages of food and drink with his fellow prisoners (no matter what their class, station or rank).

French POWs Amuse Themselves Amongst the Hun.

Furthermore, Renoir crafts a fascinating, often funny and richly moving portrait of a class system on its last legs. It's this very approach which, unlike other war films, is what makes it so brilliant and ahead of its time, but in many ways, makes it one of the most stirring anti-war films of cinema history. ("Class" is often touched upon in WWI pictures, but here, it is everything, and as such contributes to the picture's lasting value.)

The screenplay by Renoir and Charles Spaak, tells the story of a group of allied soldiers incarcerated in the German prisoner of war camps of World War I. This is not the typical reflection of concentration camps since WWI occurred during the waning days of aristocratic rule when even Germans exercised a certain degree of compassion and restraint in the treatment of its prisoners.

The film focuses primarily upon Lieutenant Maréchal (the always dashing French leading man Jean Gabin), a simple car mechanic in real life who is in the previously unthinkable position of an officer and a gentleman. In fact, it is Maréchal's basic, down-home pragmatism which allows him to be a leader within the prison system and most importantly, provides the inspiration to never give up the effort to seek escape so prisoners can rejoin their comrades in the fight against the Hun.

Death be not proud? Or is it?

Captain de Boeldieu (Pierre Fresnay) is, amongst the POWs, pure aristocracy, but he too, like the Jewish nouveau riche Rosenthal, knows that in war, his place is with his fellow prisoners. He is, however, allowed to have his cake and eat it too when Captain von Rauffenstein (the great Erich von Stroheim), the ultra-aristocratic commandant on the German side, welcomes him for fine spirits and lively conversation - a discourse which leads to both men equally lamenting, yet accepting the fact that this is the war in which the "ruling" class is on its way out.

Their friendship takes on some of the more moving and heartbreaking elements and events of the film.

Renoir presents both sides of the coin to the POWs' incarceration. The film shares a magnificent staged entertainment amongst the men, stirring escape planning and a rousing rendition of "La Marseillaise" which offers an equal dose of soul-stirring tears to the similar moment years later in Michael Curtiz's Casablanca.

German Prisons Do Not All Provide Fun and Games.

On the flip side, Renoir does not shy away from the brutality of the German captors (outside of von Rauffenstein's decidedly humanitarian approach to wartime prison administration), nor the horrific irony of outgoing French soldiers unable to give instructions to the incoming English-speaking prisoners of where the escape tunnel has been started due to language barriers and, in spite of the film's ahead-of-its-time portrait of a major Jewish character, Renoir also exposes the racism amongst the soldier-prisoners with respect to a Black prisoner who can ultimately only speak to himself, in hopes that someone might listen and converse with him.

As this is a prison picture, there is an escape, and it is here where Renoir outdoes himself in terms of both the suspense and the horrifying result of a character least likely to sacrifice himself as well as a character least-wanting to impart a death bullet. Get out thy handkerchiefs, folks. The death of class a la Renoir allows only for an aristocrat to welcome death at the hands of an aristocrat.

Running into yummy Dita Parlo on the run not a bad deal.

Renoir even provides deep romance (beyond that of men linked in common causes in war) and we're introduced to the lovely Dita Parlo (from Jean Vigo's L'Atalante) as a saviour and love interest. Renoir does allow for a certain sentimentality here ("sentimentality" NOT being a dirty word), but as is his wont, the master filmmaker yanks this happiness from all concerned (including us, the audience).

Finally, there is one of the great endings in film history - two men, one a mechanic, the other a Jew - both dotted together, dwarfed by the white snow of Switzerland and under threat of German bullets during their last mad dash.

Ultimately, this is a film in which escape can only mean a willing return to war, and for this, amongst so many astonishing elements, La Grande Illusion is one of the great anti-war films in cinema history.

It might even be the best.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: ***** (5-Stars)

La Grande Illusion is being screened at the Toronto Jewish Film Festival (TJFF 2016) in cooperation with the Alliance Francaise to complement the premiere of Mark Rappaport’s new documentary on French Jewish actor Marcel Dalio. The screening will feature guest speaker Professor Chris Faulkner, author of "The Social Cinema of Jean Renoir".

The out-of-print Criterion Collection DVD is still available for rent at special video stores (in Toronto that includes, Queen Video, Bay Street Video and Suspect Video). Most major cities still have video stores like these. This edition of the film can still be purchased new or used at Amazon.com by visiting this link HERE. Amazon offers premium pricing, but also very reasonable used pricing options. The Criterion edition includes: Newly restored digital transfer, created from the long-lost camera negative, a New and improved English subtitle translation, A rare theatrical trailer in which Jean Renoir discusses both Grand Illusion and his personal war experiences, an Audio essay by film historian Peter Cowie, an Archival radio presentation of Renoir and Erich von Stroheim accepting Grand Illusion’s Best Foreign Film honours at the 1938 New York Film Critics Awards, Press book excerpts, Renoir’s letter “to the projectionist,” cast bios, an essay on Renoir by von Stroheim, and essays about the film’s title and recently recovered camera negative, plus a very interesting Restoration demonstration.

AN AFFECTIONATE LOOK AT WAYNE & SHUSTER, WAYNE & SHUSTER IN BLACK AND WHITE - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Retrospective Programming a Hallmark of the Toronto Jewish Film Festival (TJFF 2016) Two television specials focusing on the legendary Jewish-Canadian comedy team, behind and in front of the cameras.

Canuck comedy duo Wayne & Shuster were profiled
on this CBC-TV light news and public affairs program
entitled TELESCOPE. Pictured here are screen grabs from
one of the most insane opening title sequences of all time. I accept the astronaut, the illuminated lights coming from the skyscraper, the kid, the babe and the eyeball. But seriously, a golf ball that turns into the surface of the Moon? And I ask you, what's with the giraffe and creepy clown?

An Affectionate Look at Wayne & Shuster (1965)
Dir. Norman Campbell
Starring Johnny Wayne, Frank Shuster, Fletcher Markle

Wayne & Shuster in Black and White (1997)
Dir. Trevor Evans
Starring: Johnny Wayne, Frank Shuster

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Johnny Wayne and Frank Shuster were Canada's premier comedy duo. In fact, they were probably the only comedy team from the Great White North beloved on both sides of the Canadian and American border and across the Atlantic in the United Kingdom.

They met in high school and discovered they had an immediate rapport. Throughout both secondary and post-secondary studies, the lads performed in stand-up and sketches. They were eventually hired in the 1940s by Toronto's CFRB to present a comedic household hints show and soon after were given their own radio show on the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC).

They enrolled in the armed services and throughout both World War II and the Korean War, they performed for the troops fighting abroad. With the advent of television, their careers jettisoned into the stratosphere with a regular series on CBC, followed by regular comedy specials on the same network. They were hired for a series of BBC comedy specials and even starred in an American summer replacement series produced by Jack Benny.

Their biggest success was appearing on the legendary Ed Sullivan show. Ed loved them so much, they broke the show's record of any comedy duo appearing more than once. Wayne & Shuster appeared on Sullivan's ratings hit an astonishing 60+ times. To this day, such multiple appearances by any comedy act on American TV, has never been beaten.

In spite of many offers dangled before them, they refused to make the permanent move to America. They loved Canada and preferred to live in Canada. This didn't really affect their careers in any negative fashion, but given their popularity, Wayne & Shuster could have joined the ranks of all the legendary 60s comedy variety shows on the U.S. networks.

It was not to be. They were Canadian, through and through.

* * * * *

One of the psychotically prolific programs Wayne & Shuster produced and starred in was called "An Affectionate Look at . . ." wherein the lads would sit back, relax and introduce the audience to some of their favourite comedians. Here they're about to launch into an appreciation of Bob Hope and Bing Crosby until they're freeze-framed, stopped and chided by obnoxious host Trevor Markle who tells them it's high time somebody created An Affectionate Look at Wayne & Shuster. What follows is all under the aegis of the extremely light 1965 CBC-TV public affairs program Telescope.

The value inherent in this program is clearly nostalgic. In addition to a lot of very cool period locations in both Toronto and London, it delivers plenty of interviews with supporters and fans and eventually with Wayne & Shuster.

Most of the show is devoted to "documentary" footage as they prepare to celebrate 25 years in show business. They're doing a comedy special on this theme in England with the BBC. So far so good until we're treated to a seemingly endless stroll through Toronto's airport with Wayne, Shuster and their entire families in tow (including a family pet wiener dog) to see them off. The boys kibitz around with their family, ticket girls, stewardesses and finally settle into their seats in the transatlantic jet.

Once they get to dear old Blighty, there's some shenanigans involving a breakneck car ride through London, scenes wherein they plan their special and eventually, in one of the more genuinely funny bits, they collect their BBC producer and go in search of a steakhouse that all three dined at over two decades earlier. When they get to the proper location, our boys are genuinely shocked that their favourite steak joint has been shuttered and turned into the local bookie's office.

Back home they prep and perform in a major touring show that premieres on Prince Edward Island and continues across Canada. Trevor Markle informs us that the fellas are on their way to Winnipeg. The show ends with Wayne & Shuster costumed as voyageurs, travelling from Toronto to Winnipeg by kayak.

If you're a Wayne and Shuster fan, you'll bust a gut. If not, you'll still enjoy the nostalgia of it all. It also looks grand because it was shot at a time when such programs were captured on black and white film. It sure beats the crap out of videotape and even digital.

The Wayne & Shuster Glory Days

Wayne & Shuster in Black and White is a three-part special from 1997 hosted by Frank Shuster (Johnny Wayne died of brain cancer in 1990). The emphasis is upon sketches from the 50s and 60s, which are not without amusement value (more so for fans) and perfectly representative of the literate, laid back Canadian humour the duo specialized in. The sketches include classic spoofs of movies like Ben-Hur, Shakespeare plays and old westerns.

As a kid in the 60s, I pretty much thought Wayne and Shuster were the dullest, most unhip comedians on TV. That said, I watched all their programs anyway and got a special thrill whenever I saw them on the decidedly uncool Ed Sullivan Show.

It's decades later now, though, and no matter what I thought as a kid, I have to admit to getting weepy and nostalgic over both of these programs. And yes, I laughed a lot. That's ultimately what any comedian wants.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: *** Three Stars

An Affectionate Look at Wayne & Shuster and Wayne & Shuster in Black and White are part of the stellar archival lineup that the Toronto Jewish Film Festival (TJFF 2016) excels at like no other film festival in Canada.