Visions of Care and Collaboration and how queer filmmakers translate this theme into eight fresh shorts #TQFF

Several queer and indigenous filmmakers submitted their shorts to this Torontonian festival that took place mid-March. The selection of the final eight shorts presented to the audience is exemplary of their experiences and this year’s theme: Visions of Care and Collaboration. 

By Eliana Aleman Reategui

The outside of the Tranzac Club (Eliana Aleman Reategui/CanCulture)

This year from  March 14 to 17, the Toronto Queer Film Festival hosted the seventh installment of their festival in the borough of the Annex. The theme for this year’s festival is Visions of Care and Collaboration.

All featured in the short film compilation titled Who Am I Growing Into?, the shorts-files touched upon themes of reliance on one another, one’s passion for their culture, and overall just an earnest portrayal of the queer and indigenous experience. Visuals were striking and captivating, and although there was a wide range of mastery over the medium, the sentiments that all eight filmmakers conveyed were present in the room.

Headdress (2022)

We started off the screening with the short Headdress directed by Tai LeClaire. It told the stylized story of a queer native person and his internal battle when faced with cultural appropriation. It was certainly technically impressive, with many different settings and props, but sometimes the comedy felt a little juvenile. Personally, it seemed too reminiscent of Smosh comedy or even a dragged-out SNL bit. Maybe I am chronically online and can’t appreciate short films on a budget anymore, but the writing reminded me of an Anna Akana YouTube video or a PAINT cover. Gave me the feel that it was quite dated, somewhere around 2015 to 2016, but made in 2022.

Hi, My Name is Lilliana (2020)

Hi, My Name is Lilliana directed by Liliana Rice, is a biographical short about her experience as an Indigenous filmmaker and her worries about entering the film industry. I am assuming this was an admission video for an animation program. It was cute, but also something I don’t think belonged in the lineup. The animation style is reminiscent of the “draw my life” trend on youtube several years ago, putting little doodles and moving words on top of old family pictures and memories. This is more of a vlog than a short film and although the message of the film is touching and important, the form is simply too distracting.

Bright Heart (2023)

Bright Heart, directed by Tarek Lakhrissi, was an intriguing odyssey that takes the audience on an immersive trip across the streets of Paris. I saw what the short was trying to do: immerse us in this Lynchian journey of self-discovery. However, the scenes go on for way too long and even though I know the point is to keep the audience at bay, it never lets you in enough to care about his extravagant encounters. Very French.

Shedding (2023)

Directed by Tziara Reyes, Shedding is a short, intimate documentary about a non-binary person finding their identity and how that ties their hair ties into this equation. One of my most disappointing watches in the repertoire. I sympathize with the weight of shaving your head, especially as a queer person, and how that can help you align with your gender identity. Still, there was a lack of emotionality to the actual action. It’s a very emotional process (and even the director put their two cents on what it meant for them to shave their head a couple months back), but there was not a major visual contrast in the subject’s before and after. This hindered the impact of the action greatly.

Punk Fish (2023)

Punk Fish, directed by Miguel Maldonado, follows transgender punk musicians and their new journey to find themselves in the British underground scene. It's pungent and true to its subject matter, but the protagonist feels swallowed at times. While undoubtedly eye-catching, loud and possessing a gripping presence, the protagonist was sometimes drowned by his eccentric environment. The introduction of his band members made me rapidly lose interest in his international student experience, and more invested in his backup band. How did that woman have two master's degrees already? Nevertheless, it served a good purpose, as it captured someone’s life during their youth.

Once in a Red Moon (2022)

Directed by Yi Shi, Once in a Red Moon is a lovely romance short that touches upon the immigrant experience and how that seeps into romantic and familial relationships. It felt very Toronto-esque and reminisced of summer walks through Dundas and Spadina. The delivery of the actresses didn’t quite do it for me every time— some lines just came off awkward or simply unnatural, but overall, it was a cute story with a satisfying ending that made me miss my relatives back home. Sweet treat. 

Lullaby (2023)

Lullaby directed by Irène-Kimberley Valin-Awashish was such a visually stunning portrait of the Indigenous experience in modern Canada. You can see that there was a lot of care put into the locations. The protagonist stares directly into the camera as life moves around her at a quick pace. Her stillness was a strong contrast to the craziness of present-day society. Sometimes, the voiceover would be too overpowering to the visuals, but the message was still heartfelt and came across clearly. Low shutter speed shots of the dance were breathtaking. I do wish there wasn’t the face of the protagonist in the introductory shot of the dances; they stood better on their own. Impressive film.

I AM HOME (2022)

I AM HOME, directed by Kymon Greyhorse (sick name btw), is a short film with jaw-dropping visuals and a moving and emotional voiceover narrating the evolution of Indigenous traditions and their way of living throughout centuries. The decision to majoritarily use slow motion and to opt for portrait shots really elevated the emotionality of the film. The most cohesive short of the collection. Sadl,y it was also rather brief, but I was moved by what it conveyed in its short runtime.

This lovely selection of shorts tied together into one cohesive whole: A desperate feeling to tell a story and for the audience to see life the way you experience it; a desire to share different worldviews and life experiences so we can empathize with each other, and an accolade for being collaborators in each other’s stories. 

Experiments in Short Film #TQFF

Stills in Motion: Queer Life in Alternate Forms featured several short films pushing the boundaries of animation and visual effects.

By Tia Harish

Many films are available to view on the film festival’s website for a short time. The films cover a multitude of topics pertaining to the Queer community, with a wide range of filmmaking techniques not often seen in mainstream media (Tia Harish/CanCulture)

In a crowded room hidden in the eaves of the Annex, the Toronto Queer Film Festival (TQFF) hosted Stills in Motion: Queer Life in Alternate Forms. This collection of short films gave a platform for stories left untold by mainstream media and encouraged unity and empathy with its films. 

The festival is also a platform for experimental films. Alongside other features concerning taboo topics like pornography and religion, this selection of shorts discusses topics like pregnancy and self-reflection in a new light. 

Most of these shorts do not feature live-action video or standard frame rates. This gives the filmmakers much more freedom to do things that just wouldn’t fly in mainstream media. Artists get to take on wackier and more complicated visuals or on the flip side, incredibly simplistic art styles. 

A few stood out for their storytelling and visuals:

Hair to Stay by Pree Rehal (Toronto, ON)

The shortest short film by far, clocking in at under a minute, Hair to Stay was a brilliant start to the series. The biggest laughs of the night came from this claymation short about the social perception of facial hair. Filmmaker Pree Rehal didn’t have a conventional route to filmmaking.  “I didn’t go to school for art things, so I’m self-taught and community-arts-taught,” they said during the Q&A. Their inspiration behind the short film was how Rehal’s childhood bully and crush often made fun of their body hair, specifically their mustache. These days, as a trans person, their mustache is viewed much more positively. The bare-bones dialogue and two short scenes receiving so much laughter and applause only prove how universal this idea of turning something negative into positive, is. 

Boob by Lokchi Lam (Toronto, ON)

This love story between, well, boobs, was oddly heartwarming. The film follows left boob Rocky, as he navigates life on the chest of a trans man while looking for love. As he learns more about what it means to be a man, the audience is invited to question masculinity and its impact as a social construct on men, both cis and trans. On the film’s conception, Lam said “I didn’t set out to make an animation but I wrote a script about breasts and I had to figure out how to actually make it, and I used whatever tools I could.” Lam also takes this opportunity to display genitalia as more than something sexual, rather as something fun and . This is taken even further with a deity-like vagina appearing to give Rocky the Left Boob some advice. The art style is a fun blend of impressionist visuals at a lower frame rate, rounding out the lightheartedness of the film. 

Embrace the Moon by Katrina Pleasance (Vancouver, BC)

Embrace the Moon takes the reader on a sweet, wholesome journey with its storyline packed with symbolism. The playful relationship between a farmer and the Moon Goddess displays queer joy without queer pain. Its biggest appeal was the abundance of queer joy. There was no homophobic dragon to battle— simply the physical barrier between the moon and the Earth, which was freely broken. This left ample time for the main characters to bond and grow, both a tree and their relationship. The Moon Goddess in the story appears to be Chang'e from Chinese mythology. In the mythos, she is believed to be immortal and lives on the moon. Pleasance explained that the art style was “inspired by Chinese shadow puppetry.” The light and delicate music and blending of old and new art styles gave the film a timeless feel.

You are here by Sarah Hill (USA)

Blending stop motion with live action and archival footage, Hill’s You are here treads new ground with their take on pregnancy in trans couples. It flirts with the line between educational and graphic. The visual style is akin to a virtual scrapbook, with mixed media being at the forefront of the storytelling. The story is slightly difficult to follow, due to its nonlinear structure and blending of archival medical films with the present.  It excels in its ability to keep the audience captivated and invoke emotions of sympathy, fear or even discomfort. 

Many films in the collection could be argued as too experimental. This is where one falls into the rabbit hole of what art actually is. Some pieces, like You are here, may use the philosophy that art must make the viewer feel something. Whether that feeling is positive or negative is inconsequential. Other pieces fall into the trap of making people feel things they don’t understand. A number of films had extraordinary visuals that were difficult to comprehend without an explanation. Some pieces were highly personal, and perhaps utilized the philosophy of art for the creator’s sake, rather than the audience’s. The highlights stood out for their clear and entertaining stories. They struck a balance between visual brilliance and high-quality storytelling. The audience wasn’t left particularly confused, but rather left to ponder the concepts of gender, romance and family.

Experimentation can mean a lot of things in the realm of art. These shorts were less like films and more like multimedia explorations in audio-visual storytelling. Some felt like a fever dream, and others may well have been. TQFF as a platform is incredibly valuable for these films to see the light of day. It is with the support from the queer community and film enthusiasts that the festival can keep the lights off and the projectors on.  

Exploring what it means to be free in Freedom From Everything #TQFF

How do we build community when everyone is pitted against each other?

By Sarah Grishpul

Mike Hoolboom’s film Freedom From Everything screens online during the 2024 Toronto Queer Film Festival (Sarah Grishpul/CanCulture Magazine)

“... It has always seemed much easier to murder than to change.”

During an online screening at the 2024 Toronto Queer Film Festival, Canadian filmmaker Mike Hoolboom quotes James Baldwin, along with many other activists, artists and historical figures, in his film Freedom From Everything.

Such a line repeats twice to underscore its importance and connection to the story: The sacrifice of our more vulnerable population in favour of the privileged.

Freedom From Everything is an adaptation of German filmmaker Hito Steyerl’s essay by the same name. By pulling from her passages, splicing together footage from other movies, TV shows, historical recordings and images, computer-generated animations and personal memories, Hoolboom created an essay film jam-packed with philosophical ponderings and critical analyses.

A fair warning, this film is not the type of movie you can put on in the background while folding the laundry or completing other various chores. It’s not so much a typical narrative story but rather a string of musings against a backsplash of idyllic scenes and objects. Instead, Hoolboom invites you to meditate on his musings as his soft, resounding voice guides you through the film. 

Hoolboom compares the many similarities between the public’s behaviour towards the AIDS epidemic in the 1980s and the recent COVID-19 pandemic, of which we are only a few years shy. He points to the striking commonality in the translation of fear to anger. Those who did not understand the virus and the people affected by it turned to hate and accusation as a coping mechanism.

Yet, as he points out in the post-screening Q&A, what made COVID-19 different was the lack of solidarity and community.

The film raises the question: How do you build community when everyone is pitted against each other?

From that point forward, we are taken back in time to the late 1970s and early 1990s when the polarizing Margaret Thatcher was Prime Minister of Britain. Her stance on society was that there was no such as society. But instead, human beings were responsible for their personal lives and outcomes.

To put it straight: If you’re poor or marginalized—it’s your own fault.

This so-called “freedom” removes blame from the dominant white society over issues of inequality. Because, according to Thatcher, society just doesn’t exist

Hoolboom shows how the “virus of neoliberalism” manifested in the so-called “freedom fighters” who staged large protests against COVID-19 vaccine mandates in Canada. The stance of “this disease doesn’t exist because it isn’t directly affecting me,” is a luxury in itself. 

Such individualistic mentalities were as prominent during COVID-19 as they were during the 

AIDS epidemic. As Hoolboom further points out in the Q&A:

“If I get sick, that’s my responsibility. But if you get sick, that's not just your responsibility, but it’s your fault somehow.”

He cites the urge to ignore the problem as a result of a digital, neoliberal form of capitalism. Communication during isolation became a profit for big tech companies. Remember ever using Zoom before the pandemic? Yeah, me neither.

Freelancers, side hustles and the gig economy are all products of capitalism. The “freedom” to not be represented by traditional institutions offers a negative freedom, which pulls people away from any semblance of community. 

Later on, the film dives into the history behind the word “freelancer,” which originates from the medieval ages. They were mercenaries who were not attached to any soldier or government but instead loyal to whoever paid them the most. Remove the horse, armour, and sword, and you’ll see that nothing much has changed since then.

Hoolboom references the role of the “homeless freelancer” in Japanese cinema, known as the “ronin.” One film he calls attention to is Yojimbo, a 1961 western, where a lone samurai ultimately initiates a gang war between two rival capitalist warlords in a small Japanese village.

The role of the freelancer is, at its core, one built on the foundation of independence. Yet, not all freelancers strive to serve the good of the people. Hoolboom interweaves clips of private soldiers in the Iraq occupation and the difficulties the United States military experienced in controlling these freelance mercenaries. Another example of this “negative freedom” is referenced several times throughout the film.

In the end, Freedom From Everything doesn’t serve as a beacon of hope, nor does it provide the answer to these systemic problems, but instead is a bleak reflection of a weakened society encased in selfish desires and governed by greed. I certainly emerged from this screening forced to reckon with my own pursuit of freedom from everything. If anything, the film opens up conversations on how we choose to determine our own future.

Sailor Moon Super Scandalous indeed #TQFF

 They’re revoking my baptismal certificate for this one

By Ella Miller

When the lights went down at the Tranzac theatre on March 15, 2024, the magical girl Sailor Moon underwent a real transformation (Ella Miller/CanCulture Magazine)

As the old saying goes “and on the third day, He rose again and ascended… into debaucherous hilarity.” 

Sailor Moon Super Scandalous: The Yassification of the Christ marks the third installment in Harjot Bal’s Sailor Moon parody series. Making its debut at the Toronto Queer Film Festival (TQFF), the film reworks the 1995 movie, Sailor Moon Super S

Instead of being about an alien queen kidnapping Earth’s children, the movie is now about the Sailor Scouts defeating warrior of God and “ba-bortion” protester, Sister Karen and her plot to bring about the rapture by turning “pansexual Wiccan from the future,” Sailor Mini Moon, into a Christian.  

After tackling queer relationships and womanhood in his previous two movies, Bal decided it was time to take on an underlying theme in both of those outings: religion, with the Catholic church providing forbidden fruit that was ripe and ready for picking. 

This was a bold choice for the TQFF both because of how inflammatory the subject matter inherently is and because it prompts the audience to do some serious pondering in dangerous waters: ‘Is my COVID-19 vaccine chip actually a good thing?’; ‘What is the Catholic Church’s stance on edging?’; and ‘How long until Doug Ford realizes that his government helped fund this?’ 

Sailor Moon Super Scandalous: The Yassification of the Christ is firmly rooted in internet culture and the kind of dark humour that was bred on early-noughts anime forums and YouTube. It combines this with post-pandemic memes and musical cues from TikTok’s Hot 100 into a chaotic symphony that would be struck down by the YouTube copyright gods in a millisecond. 

For me, though, the most obvious comparison was ADV’s notorious dub of Ghost Stories, wherein an innocent mystery show was turned into a filthy cult classic by the power of the greatest argument for dubs over subs of all time. 

In the post-screening Q&A, Bal admits to being heavily influenced by the abridged series, but surprisingly, had never seen the Ghost Stories dub until after the first movie came out. 

If you are aware of these properties and have gotten turned off by the comparison, that is understandable. Dark humour that relies on shock value and references to homophobia, dysfunctional relationships, drug use and extremism is not for everyone. 

During my viewing of this film, however, I found the usage of this type of humour to be reclamatory and transformative. 

So frequently we see ‘dark humour’ used as a Trojan horse for flat-out bigotry, but seeing a piece of media created by a queer person of colour at a grassroots 2SLGBTQAI+ event returns dark humour to a purer form: a tool to poke fun at power while confronting your own flaws. 

This is where I get a little “um… actually☝️🤓”, so bear with me. As a certified veteran of Catholic school, I do tend to be a little more persnickety about the representation of Catholicism than most. Forgive me, Father, I want those six years of religion classes to mean something. 

The Catholic Church does not actually use the “kiddie pool” style baptism the film repeatedly claims it does, among other factual inaccuracies (☝️🤓). However, anything about the sex scandals is accurate. Maddeningly accurate. 

Sailor Moon Super Scandalous: The Yassfication of the Christ’s parody of ‘Catholicism’ probably would have been more accurate had it been directed at American Evangelicals and charismatic Christianity. Marjorie Taylor Gre- I mean, Sister Karen is the Republican party’s next presidential nominee, mark my words.  

But, if my biggest complaint about your film is that the Catholic Church was not represented entirely accurately, which weakened the satire–uh… I guess I will take my rosary beads and cry myself to sleep in the confessional. 

Aside from the Catholic Church villainy, the film contains many heartwarming subplots and affecting character arcs. And that is not a joke. 

Tuxedo Mask comes to grips with the fact that he will never be the creatine-munching, crypto bro of Sailor Moon’s dreams. Tyler, the Content Creator, enters his drug experimentation era. Lesbian lovers Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune struggle with fertility treatments.  

All of these plots may seem like one-off gags, but they are actually layered and possess multi-1000-word-essays worth of concepts tackling masculinity, scapegoating and 2SLGBTQIA+ parenting. 

I would like to take a minute to boggle at the technical feats that this film accomplishes. This Sailor Moon parody series is just short of the most ambitious project in the realm of anime since the Rebuild of Evangelion while also being ten times more coherent (but somehow less gay). 

Bal described his creative process during the Q&A as “a beast.” The film took him two months to write by himself. Writing the film involved Bal watching the original movie until his eyes bled (probably) and developing a story that both made sense and fit the lip flaps of the original Japanese. 

Bal then coordinated a team of 17 different people to voice act which took an additional two to three months. None of these people were professional voice actors and that required some serious innovation to make at-home voiceover studios using closets and pillows. 

So, while all credit for the animation remains with the talented artists at Toei Animation, every sound heard in the film, from the passionate magical girl cries to the farts, is a labour of love by the production team. 

All of whom have their names displayed in the credits, accompanied by a song that really had me saying: …hey Siri, what song is this?

‘According to Spotify, “Hit My Spot” by ur pretty is a gay sex anthem about being submissive and breedable, would you like to know more? 

Goddamn this movie.  

Sailor Moon Super Scandalous: The Yassification of the Christ is available in its entirety on Instagram @sailormoonparody.

What is going on with the MCU? A review of The Marvels

Marvel's latest cinematic instalment bombed at the box office, and considering the size of the franchise, there's a lot we need to talk about

By Mariana Schuetze

The Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) recently had a new addition, its 33rd film, The Marvels, released in November and directed by Nia DaCosta. The film stars two “Marvels,” Captain Marvel, or Carol Danvers (played by Brie Larson, Ms. Marvel, or Kamala Khan(played by Canadian superstar Iman Vellani) and Monica Rambeau, played by Teyonah Parris. In The Marvels, the superpowers of these three superheroes get jumbled together, so every time one of them uses their power, they switch places.

The premise, to me at least, was great. I was sold when I heard the idea. I’m a sucker for platonic relationships and, besides having their powers tangled, they all also have complicated emotional relationships with each other. Kamala is a super fan of Captain Marvel and Carol and Monica are family since Carol and Monica's mom, Maria Rambeau, were together in the United States Air Force.

So, yes, I was quite excited about the film. Yet, the execution of this interesting premise left a lot to to be desired. The film’s strongest moments are when the three super-powered women team up, especially the few times they take a minute to talk about their feelings. Larson continues to portray Danvers as this closed-off strong-willed woman, now with a touch of feelings when she’s forced to interact with her best friend’s daughter who she hasn’t seen in 30 years. Parris’ character adds that touch of emotion to Danvers and gives more life to the character we first saw in WandaVision. Rounding out the trio, Vellani brings an incredibly fresh take to the MCU, playing the super-fan-turned-superhero to perfection (if I had superpowers and got to save the world with my favourite superhero, I’d be acting just like her).

The bad guy in the film, Dar-Benn (played by Zawe Ashton), is going after Kamala’s bangle, so she can have enough power to save her planet. The Marvels continue to touch on the history and future of alien races, Kree and the Skrulls. They have been displaced from their planet since 1995 in Captain Marvel (2019) when Danvers promised to protect them. She is also connected to the reason why Dar-Benn's Skrull planet was destroyed, so more reason for them to be involved. 

With so much happening in the MCU by this point, the beginning of the film suffers from over-exposition. To keep the audience in the loop, they have to give context and background to all these new characters, who have all appeared in different projects of the franchise so far, including films and Disney+ shows. Once the plot starts picking up, with some training montage moments and adventures through space, we begin to get a bit more excited about what's going on. Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) is also present in the film and brings some funny one-liners alongside Kamala’s family (who gets stuck in a spaceship at one point). 

However, once we got to the final act, everything seemed rushed. The stakes, once again, are incredibly high and this trio of superheroes that have never worked together before, manage to save the day in probably 15 minutes. The emotional conflicts throughout the film, especially between Carol and Monica; and Kamala and her family, are quickly resolved in a way that makes you feel like you’ve missed something, even if you didn’t leave the theatre room once.

In the end, what I like the most about The Marvels and what gives it rewatch value is how the film made me feel. The three superheroes are loud, fierce and know what they want. As an anxious, insecure people-pleaser, it was so strange yet incredibly valuable to see the three of them never question their own decisions or each others’. They all knew exactly what they wanted to say and do and everyone respected their decisions, recognizing each others’ value. In a world where women a lot of the time don’t even have a space to talk, this felt pretty powerful.

But yet, since the terrible reception of Captain Marvel back in 2019 where bots and men flooded the internet with misogynistic comments and reviews, I don’t think anyone expected this film to do too well (it has three leading women, after all). And, well, guess what? It didn’t. The Marvels just became the MCU's lowest-grossing film at the box office, making a whopping 198 thousand dollars at the global box office. This is six times less than what Captain Marvel made in 2019. This time around, however, The Marvels, didn’t get review-bombed, having received a fresh rating of 61 per cent from critics and an 82 per cent audience rating on Rotten Tomatoes

Considering all of that, I’d say we can't disregard misogyny in the calculation of the MCU's downfall. As the franchise's audience has grown, it's fair to assume so has its female audience. So, in an attempt to captivate more of this audience (and just follow the times, I guess), the MCU has given a bit more space to its female heroes with movies like Black Widow (2021), Captain Marvel, Eternals (2021), Thor: Love and Thunder (2022) and now, The Marvels, plus giving many of them their own TV shows.  Still, even though watching these films makes me feel incredibly badass, they're not the most popular with the fans; why?

Is it a lack of good writing? No, these films have had incredible filmmakers attached to them (see: Eternals, helmed by Oscar-award-winning director, Chloe Zhao)

Is it a lack of stellar performances? No, a lot of these actors are incredibly talented (see: Brie Larson, Natalie Portman, Tatiana Maslany…)

Is it a lack of funding? No, these films are all part of the MCU franchise, they get access to the same resources (see: compare budgets/spending of two MCU films, one male-centred the other female-centred)

Yet, every single female-forward project of the MCU has suffered with setbacks in one way or another. Black Widow didn’t get the theatre release it deserved, Eternals was harshly trashed by the critics, She-Hulk and Ms. Marvel got the same treatment and now, The Marvels’s disastrous box office. So, what does the future of the MCU look like? I fear that with all these female-led superhero films being so trashed by a majority of male fans, we won’t get to see these stories on screen anymore.

However, the MCU is suffering from more than just misogyny and the fear of “what’s woke”. Many of Marvel’s recent projects have been quite off, and certainly not as fiscally successful as we’ve come to expect. In some way or another, I think the MCU is just getting too big. Much like the comic books, all the stories now are deeply connected. To watch one instalment in the theatre and enjoy that collective experience we all long for, you have to come prepared with about 10-20 hours of extra bonus content (and a Disney+ subscription). That can be too much for the majority of audiences. 

By the end of 2023, the Marvel Cinematic Universe has come out with 33 films and 11 Disney+ shows, having announced another five shows 12 new movies for their end of  Phase 5 and the upcoming  Phase 6. But unlike Captain America: Civil War (2016) and the Infinity Saga (2018-2019), this time we’ll have to watch over 40 projects to be able to have the best experience in the theatres, instead of the 18 that were out by 2018 when Infinity War first came out. But who has the time to be up to date with all of that today? Is that even sustainable for audiences? 

In the end, I think we are all looking for that feeling of sitting down in a movie theatre on opening night surrounded by friends and fellow MCU fans, collectively experiencing the final battle of Endgame, and seeing, one by one, all the characters we’ve grown to love in the past 10 years come out of magic portals. Being there, together, all sharing an experience, all with the same level of understatement, attachment and connection to these characters (because, after all, we all had watched the same films), is something we're all longing for. And so are the studio executives, longing for the big buck these films made. I believe that experience is hard to replicate, and it’s what we’re all looking for. Anything that is that, will do greatly (see: Spider-Man: No Way Home). Anything that is not, will just feel disappointing…

American Fiction: Jeffrey Wright gives a standout performance in Cord Jefferson’s debut feature film #TIFF23

The TIFF People’s Choice Award winner delivers uncompromising commentary on the pressures and expectations placed on Black artists while maintaining a story full of humour and heart

Jeffrey Wright plays Thelonious "Monk" Ellison, a dynamic character who is at once both cynical and filled with humanity (Courtesy of TIFF)

By Caelan Monkman

Satire is a notoriously challenging genre to execute well. It requires an intimate understanding — and often appreciation — of the subject being satirized, while simultaneously a recognition of the flaws and dissonances that exist within that very subject.

It’s here that American Fiction writer and director Cord Jefferson truly prevails. Jefferson is accomplishing a doubly challenging task, tackling satire and adapting the film’s screenplay from a book — Percival Everett’s 2001 novel Erasure — another famously difficult feat. This accomplishment is all the more impressive given this is Jefferson’s first feature film.

The film follows Thelonious "Monk" Ellison (Jeffrey Wright), a struggling author who keeps finding himself pigeonholed as a “Black writer” while simultaneously being told by editors that his works “aren’t Black enough.”

Dealing with various personal and family problems, including the death of his sister and an aging mother who is succumbing to Alzheimer's, Monk is feeling the pressure to succeed as a writer to support his family. But with white editors and audiences continuously deciding on his behalf what is and isn’t “Black enough,” Monk can’t seem to catch a break.

This is until, in an act of frustration, he submits a draft to his editor titled ‘My Pafology’ — an over-the-top story filled with clichés about Black communities — under the pseudonym Stagg R. Leigh. To his surprise, it is loved by his editor, and he’s offered the largest book deal of his career.

What follows is a whirlwind series of events that results in Monk finding anonymous success for his work while simultaneously disagreeing with the very art he is now forcing himself to create.

In a Q&A with Jefferson following the film’s world premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival, he explained that he didn’t want the film to feel like a lecture. The film succeeds in doing this, managing to walk the tightrope of satirizing without spoonfeeding the audience, trusting them to understand the messaging in the film, but without pandering to them either.

Jefferson, whose writing credits include the award-winning HBO shows Watchmen and Succession, was a journalist before making the transition to writing for TV — and now film. As a Black journalist, Jefferson was often asked to cover what he calls the ‘racism beat,’ a “revolving door of misery and tragedy” that focused on stories of tragedy and racism befalling communities of colour rather than stories that uplift them.

Here, Jefferson experienced firsthand the same things Monk does in American Fiction. Grappling with the commercialization and fetishization of the “true Black experience”, the film explores how, as stated in one of the more poignant lines of the film, “White people think they want the truth, but they don’t. They just want to feel absolved.”

The resulting film is one that is both bitingly funny and depressingly real. With exceptional performances across the board, and worth mentioning a delightfully lush and jazzy score from Laura Karpman, American Fiction is a terrific start to the hopefully long list of feature films to come from Cord Jefferson.

The Boy and the Heron: Miyazaki’s triumphant (last?) film #TIFF23

Hayao Miyazaki’s directorial return presented to the audiences at the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) the auteur’s love letter to his previous works.

By John Vo

(Courtesy of TIFF)

When Studio Ghibli comes to mind, the image of the man who sought to create more than films, but the most magical and immersive worlds, is formed. We think of the countless films created since the studio first came to fruition four decades ago. Yet before he solidified himself as one of the most prolific auteurs in not solely animation, but also cinema itself, Hayao Miyazaki was once a Japanese boy who longed to bring bold artworks and imaginative concepts to life. When 2013’s The Wind Rises came out, and Miyazaki himself claimed he would be retiring (although he already said that four times prior), many, including myself, truly believed that we wouldn’t be seeing more works from the movie legend. Until he finally shared the triumphant news in 2021 that we would be getting another film from him. That film would be the now-released The Boy and the Heron (or Kimitachi wa Dō Ikiru ka).

Very loosely based on his connection to the Japanese novel How Do You Live? by Genzaburo Yoshino, Miyazaki’s film is comprised of an original story and new characters. During the Second World War, 12-year-old Mahito loses his mother after a bombing that causes the hospital where she resides to burn down. His father soon remarries his late wife’s sister and the two move to another city in the country. As he struggles to adapt to the continuing grief of losing his mother and being in a completely new setting, Mahito meets a talking heron who tells him that his mother is still alive. Eager to discover what this strange and magical heron means, he follows him into a nearby abandoned tower and is transferred into a new world. Mahito then sets on a journey full of fantastical creatures and dangerous obstacles to find out what truly happened to his mother.

Although this synopsis sounds very straightforward, Studio Ghibli films have the innate ability to turn a simple concept and expand it beyond the scope of what anyone could’ve imagined; Miyazaki is not like any other artist. Before becoming an auteur, he was once just a boy in Japan during the bombings and remembers the brutality of war. His family and he would also face hardships, like when his mother got spinal tuberculosis. These key moments of his life are translated into the motifs in the projects he has helmed for Studio Ghibli. From his anti-war stances in The Wind Rises and Howl’s Moving Castle to how humans deal with illness and grief in films like My Neighbour Totoro, Miyazaki infuses the experiences of his youth into relatable and honest coming-of-age stories that portray adolescence as both the wondrous and arduous. The core belief that art can be used as a means of dissecting and understanding one’s emotional and personal turmoils is beliefs is ever so evident in Miyazaki’s body of work.

The Boy and the Heron is the amalgamation of everything you could imagine for a Hayao Miyazaki film and more. Cute creatures that would make adorable stuffed animals? Check. A fantastical world with its own set of physics and features? You got it. Another score produced by the mind behind the music of Ghibli, Joe Hasaishi? The closest thing one can get to an out-of-body experience. The animation? Oh, there are no words worthy enough to describe how vividly immaculate this film is to look at. The lush colours Ghibli loves to use in all of its films are present and paired with the iconic stylized designs of the characters and settings. When viewing the film, you’ll catch what will go down as one of the studio’s visually striking scenes, the animation becomes eerie and akin to how one might see a nightmare play out. It shocks you to the core but adds a whole new dimension to the film and the potential of 2-D animation. In our current climate where the only animated films you can catch in cinemas feature 3-D anthropomorphic animals just for the sake of a cash grab, Studio Ghibli and the Japanese animation industry as a whole are a firm reminder that 2-D animation is anything but a relic of the past.

At the heart of our story is a young adolescent struggling to adapt to the newfound changes in his livelihood and familial relationships. The character of Mahito acts as our eyes and ears into the countryside and the world he and we are about to experience. The dynamic between him and the other characters, especially between his father and former aunt now step-mother, are some of the most nuanced and complex relationships in the Ghibli canon. Yet, no character is written to be a two-dimensional caricature but are all provided glimpses into their viewpoints and what motivates their actions. We can’t mention a film called The Boy and the Heron without mentioning the titular heron. Although I only screened the Japanese version at TIFF — meaning no commentary from me on Robert Pattinson’s voice acting — the heron in the film remains one of the studio’s oddest secondary characters. His motives are shrouded in mystery for a good portion of the film and it is not until later we discover his true purpose within the narrative. The heron does lead to another point that the Japanese voice actors did an exceptional job with the script. Voice acting in animated film is nothing like acting for the cameras and the ability to express the character's words without being over-the-top is crucial. Like every past Miyazaki film, the voice acting is top-notch with moments of the subtle and dramatic interspersed.

Beyond the surface level and aesthetics, the consistent themes and storytelling of Miyazaki’s work are displayed at possibly an all-time best. Through the hero’s journey, the concepts of grief, violence and coming-of-age are explored in an allegorical manner akin to films like Spirited Away and KiKi’s Delivery Service. Although the film is set in 1940s post-WWII Japan, the themes of war and self-discovery are meticulously written to retain timelessness and relevancy to our current society. Now more than ever, Miyazaki’s clear stance on how war can affect countries as a whole and the youth affected mirrors current events today.

When fans of films, especially Canadians, discovered that the film would be premiering as the opening film for the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF), it solidified Studio Ghibli and Miyazaki’s place in cinema as a trailblazer. His work has gone on to be referenced in games, and live-action works and is a key influence for other esteemed film professionals. It was so obvious even walking alongside King St. W where all the magic was happening at TIFF. The film became the first ever animated and international film to open for the festival, Torotonians lined up hours early for the special merch pop-up and for the small possibility of snagging last-minute tickets to see the film. Suffice it to say that the videography of Studio Ghibli means a lot to general audiences and film as a whole.

A swan song (pun half-intended) to the works of Studio Ghibli’s past, Hayao Miyazaki blends all the things audiences love about his work and creates a film that pays homage to the classics while standing on its own as a formidable film. The Boy and the Heron is a love letter to all the fans who look towards his films and animation as a source of inspiration and solace. Although the story will not be the easiest to understand once you exit the theatre, you leave with the same breathtaking awe and wonder that comes after watching a film of such calibre and raw passion.

The subtitled and dubbed versions of The Boy and the Heron are in theatres now. For more information or to buy tickets, check the link here.

Images courtesy of TIFF

Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person: Ariane Louis-Seize’s feature debut contains lots of blood, and even more heart #TIFF23

Although not wholly original, the horror-comedy presents some unique ideas and follows through with a solid execution full of humanity (and vampiranity)

A dark-haired teenage girl (Sara Montpetit) examines her vampire fangs with her hand

Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person delights audiences with its use of humour and compassionate handling of sensitive subjects (Courtesy of TIFF)

By Caelan Monkman

Would you compromise your morals, even at the expense of alienating yourself from your family — or worse — your own death?

That is the question that Canadian director Ariane Louis-Seize attempts to answer in her debut feature film, the horror-comedy Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person.

The film follows Sasha (Sara Montpetit), a “teenage” vampire (she’s 68, which is like 17 in vampire years) who, according to a vampire pediatrician — yes, you read that correctly — possesses a neurological condition which makes her feel compassion towards her human victims, rather than hunger. As a result, Sasha can’t bring herself to kill humans for food, electing instead to drink blood from IV bags as though they were hemoglobin-filled Kool-Aid Jammers.

Out of frustration and a desire to cure her condition, Sasha’s family elects to send her away to live with her cousin Denise (Noémie O’Farrell), hoping that some time away from home will set Sasha straight.

Feeling isolated from her family and unable to express her extremely-vampire-specific dilemma with others, Sasha struggles with how to move forward, ultimately electing to attend a depression support group. There, she meets Paul (Félix-Antoine Bénard), a suicidal teenager who — after putting two and two together about Sasha’s bloodthirsty predicament — offers his life to her as a guilt-free blood sacrifice.

What follows is an unlikely friendship between the two misunderstood minors, who, through each other, discover there’s perhaps more to life than just survival.

The film wears its influences on its sleeve, sharing similarities with black comedies like The End of the F***ing World and The Addams Family while still creating a distinctly original end product. It also doesn’t take itself too seriously, being aware of the absurdities that can arise from the modern-day lives of vampires, à la What We Do In The Shadows.

Additionally, the film has a distinctly Canadian feel to it — and not just because of the multiple utterances of tabarnak and a creative and humorous scene involving poutine. The unique, independent spirit of the film is reminiscent of the (admittedly more abstract) absurdist films of Guy Maddin, or of Jason Reitman’s TIFF-premiering classic, Juno.

Billed as a horror-comedy, the film leans into horror tropes primarily as aesthetic choices, often subverting them for comedic effect. Much of the film is presented matter-of-factly and with a deadpan delivery, allowing the absurdity of the situation to carry the humour.

Despite the film’s humorous subject matter, it also contains its fair share of surprisingly profound moments. Dealing with topics such as depression and suicide, the film approaches these themes head-on, facing them with equal parts compassion and humour, without ever trivializing them.

At times the film could do to sit on these emotional beats a bit longer, but regardless, they still work well and provide some lovely tender moments amongst the deadpan of the rest of the film.

The end result is a film that leans heavily on common horror and coming-of-age tropes but still gives audiences an original end result and has them feeling good as the credits roll.

Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person is now available for digital rental and is playing at the TIFF Bell Lightbox on January 27.



Giving voice to the voiceless: An interview with the writer and director of Red, White and Blue

A mother-daughter road trip has never been so devastating.

By Sarah Grishpul

Nazrin Choudhury’s directorial debut, Red, White and Blue, details the life of Rachel (Brittany Snow), a young, single mother living in Arkansas with her two children, as she is forced to travel across the states to receive proper medical care for an abortion. 

Despite being a predominately American film, the abortion issue has been heavily debated in Canada as well. The overturning of Roe v. Wade last year even fed into the rise of pro-life and anti-abortion groups in our country. It’s also important to point out that despite having decriminalized abortion in 1988, it is not a constitutional right and disparities in access to abortion procedures vary among provinces.

Coming from a female director with two daughters of her own, Choudhury takes such a delicate subject and, in presenting it through a feminist lens, gives voice to those who will ultimately bear the consequences of having politics dictate their reproductive rights.

The short film is shot with such precision and care. Its pale, grey and moody colour grading ties well with the serious, dark undertones of the atmosphere. Choudhury invites you into the lives of this mother and her family, seemingly guiding the audience through a familiar narrative, until the third act completely defies any preconceived expectations on how the story would unfold.

Currently on its festival circuit run, after showcasing the film at the Edmonton International Film Festival and winning the Grand Jury Award for Best Live Action Short, this now qualifies Red, White and Blue to be considered for an Oscar nomination.

CanCulture had the pleasure of speaking with Choudhury about her experience writing and directing the film. What follows is a condensed version of a nearly 40-minute interview, and for the sake of our audience - we’ve retracted all talk of spoilers. 

First off, let's get into what made you want to tell this kind of story in the first place.

I'm a storyteller. I look at the world around me and the characters that inhabit it and that kind of informs my storytelling. And I couldn’t stop listening to the news in the aftermath of [Roe v. Wade] and how it affected so many of us. 

And so I sat down to do the thing that I do, which is to write a story that builds bridges between people from different walks of life, and even different political views, to just understand the real-world consequences on people who might exist in your life, that you are not seeing. 

Through the medium of film, we can let a few peek behind the curtains at what this means for someone who's going through it in their lives and the untold burden that we placed upon them as a result.

That was beautifully said. I was also wondering what it was like working with Brittany Snow and the two child actors, Juliette (Donenfeld) and Redding (Munsell).

I'd seen so many shades of Brittany Snow as an actor playing vastly entertaining characters. But there was always a hidden depth to her that I could see.

I really had this instinctive belief and gut feeling that Brittany was going to be tremendous in this role, and to our surprise, she read it almost straight away and said “I wanna meet and talk to Nazrin,” and we met over the Christmas break while she was still wrapping up filming and going into post [production] on her own film.

I think she is such a talent that has been discovered that there is so much depth to her that means, I feel like this is going to be an odd thing to say, but it's almost like these new discoveries of her range and so on that you see in this film. She's every bit as good as any actor that I've ever admired and wanted to work with and she was so generous. And we were so lucky to find Juliet Donenfeld and Redding Munsell.

It was so amazing to watch as a filmmaker, you're bringing these strangers together, who’ve never met, and they are being asked immediately to become a family. The chemistry at the rehearsal was really just wonderful. Juliet plays so well as a big sister, the way that she shepherded Redding was amazing. Redding is like an old soul in a small being, just an amazing human being.

Just the fact that they came together as an on-screen family, but were really supporting and nurturing each other behind the scenes in the short amount of time we had, it really felt like a family. 

Yeah, I could really feel this family dynamic and they just had such great chemistry. I forgot that they were actors.

Even though it's a short film, I'm so appreciative that you say that you felt like they were a family because we wanted it to feel that way. But also the people who come in, we didn't want them to just be a plot device. Like the diner who opens up the pathway with the generous tip that she leaves for Rachel to go and do what she needs to do and go on this journey. All of these characters I hope feel very fully realized.

Most of the female characters in the film just help each other. It's such a beautiful thing to see on film, women supporting other women.

I made a very conscious decision not to have any male voices on this. You do not hear anyone, even the songs. It's all predominantly female voices, except for the young, unadulterated voice of Jake, played by Redding, because the idea is there that he's kind of an innocent child who's going to hopefully grow up to become an ally based on his mother and sister’s experiences.

But it's really important for me to have the voices on this be people who are, or who have been, or who might have been affected by the legislation that came down. It was time for us to speak about the things that affect us, and I think that isn't to say that we didn't have people who don't have reproductive organs and therefore reproductive rights, to consider working on this film, we did, they were allies, but hopefully, they'll understand the reason why I did that, that I'm starting to talk about now, even though I just kind of subliminally did that and no one necessarily noticed but me. 

I think it became more apparent in post [production] with my editor as I was like, “hey, can we adjust this jingle? Can we change it into a female voice, please? Let's get this re-recorded and put a female voice in because I want everything to be just female.”

Amazing, and back to the song, after that scene was done I had to pause the film just to look it up on my Spotify. I needed to add this to my playlist.

The voices that you hear, those are my daughters singing. 

Oh, no way!

Yeah! We recorded their vocals. They're both musicians and very creative. They have lots of strings to their bow, but they are high schoolers—or were at the time—and they’ve written music before, we didn't have time to write another track, but they re-recorded the vocals.

The fact that those are your daughters, that's amazing!

I just wanted them to be in this film in some way also as the people who I first pitched this idea to and said, “Hey, I think I'm gonna write this, what do you think?” and who have been my biggest supporters and who've lived through this with me more than anyone else.

Towards the end, the aspect ratio just starts to tighten and get more box-like. What was the reason behind this transition?

For me, just in terms of using technical devices it still lends itself to the storytelling. I don't think something has to do one thing, it can do multiple things. So, it's like a POV shift by the aspect ratio, as well as in that point, the shared memory that exists between them, and then the feeling of the walls closing in of what's to come and what they have to face, in addition to what has already been so egregiously faced.

Yeah, and I do like the whole dichotomy of it, where it's coming in tighter as you're realizing this new information that is making the whole picture a lot bigger for you, while at the same time, the borders are closing in. 

I'm so happy you said that and then you noticed it. I'm glad that Adam (Suschitzky, DP) and Phil (McLaughlin, Editor) will also feel very pleased that you picked up on that because there were some very clear storytelling intentions behind it.

This being your debut short film, were there any challenges or obstacles that you had to overcome?

I'm luckier than most in the sense of having worked in an established way in film and television. I was able to utilize all the network of relationships that I had to put this film into motion. I work on a show called Fear the Walking Dead that wrapped in December. And so I turned my attention to this film with the writer's strike coming and do I work and pay the bills, or do I basically put this film afoot because it feels so important for me to tell this story? 

And yes, it's a short film with high production values, so I had to beg, borrow and steal so many favours, but also from my kids' college funds, albeit with their blessing to make this and put this out there. It’s been a real labour of love with several challenges and we had a mainly great cast and crew who helped us to tell the story and gave their hearts and soul to this too.

Yeah, for sure. And now that your film is an Oscar-qualifying short—congratulations, by the way—what are the next steps for you?

I would love for this film to be seen by as many people as possible in as many states as possible. My wish and aspiration for this is that we give access to as many people who want to watch this as a stark contrast, ironically speaking to the lack of access that exists for healthcare itself. 

If you can't get access to healthcare, maybe at least you can access the film, which can then help us to have a dialogue and conversation about why some of these rollbacks are hurtful to characters like the ones in our short film.

Breaking Barriers: Deaf Stories with a Loud Impact

Four short films created by Deaf filmmakers are paving the way for disabled creatives in Toronto 

By Atiya Malik

Illustration of two blue eyes each in a television. Above this, the flyer reads “Unify Deaf Film Festival” over a plum-coloured background.

Official Unify Deaf Film Festival poster (@alessioconvito.art via Instagram)

The Unify Deaf Film Festival, presented by TIFF Bell Lightbox and Undivided Productions, has carved a remarkable path for Deaf filmmakers and Deaf stories to be embraced and celebrated. This event is the first of its kind in Toronto and marks a significant step forward in recognizing talent and creativity within the d/Deaf community. 

On Oct. 13, the Unify Deaf Film Festival public screening presented four impeccable short films all created by Deaf filmmakers. The event was followed by two days of workshops and panels.

The festival was not only about showcasing Deaf talent but also fostering meaningful dialogue and creating a bridge between the deaf and hearing worlds. Panel discussions and a Q&A session with the filmmakers allowed for open conversation about Deaf culture, the language and the challenges of being a Deaf creative in a predominantly hearing world. 

The Power of Visual Storytelling: The Black Deaf Experience

His Hand, His Art, directed by Ebony R. Gooden, is a documentary on Ralph “Ralf” Newberry, a Black Deaf artist, and his compelling journey. This film depicts his sickening experiences with racism, ableism and how they have and continue to affect his life. His story engulfs viewers in feelings of confusion, pain and anger due to the lack of resources until he discovers the art of healing and forgiveness. 

“Creating this film was very personal for me, my goodness, it was extremely personal to me. Ralph was someone I wanted to see when I was growing up. To know that I wasn’t the only one and to know that our history existed,” said Gooden during the Q&A session. 

Gooden emphasized how being able to tell Ralph’s story in her documentary is a form of representation that is desperately needed in the film industry. She said the power of film goes beyond just the people who view it in the cinema when it’s released. You don’t know who you’re going to impact in future generations with these films. 

The Multi, directed by Storm Smith and Natasha Ofili, shared a different perspective from the Black deaf community. This film tells the story of an isolated Black Deaf woman who has constructed a world to keep a childhood trauma buried deep in her consciousness. This is until an unexpected series of events forces her to confront the demons from her past who threaten to destroy everything she has built.

According to a Forbes interview, Ofili says, "I remember feeling worthless, I remember feeling that I did not want to be here anymore, I was done, I felt done. In 2009, I had announced that I needed help, I started going to therapy, all of that did help me, it was a two-year journey, and I am now able to talk about it."

Ofili draws attention to the fact that not a lot of people speak about their mental health, especially not in the Black Deaf community. 

"There is a lack of conversation about our trauma, and I decided to include that in the script. We do not have enough of that on the screen. The Multi is inspired by my mental health," said Ofili in the Forbes interview.

Both The Multi and His Hand, His Art give voices to a marginalized community. They shed light upon varying perspectives and experiences. 

There’s no one way to be Black, there’s no one way to be d/Deaf, you can’t paint everyone with the same brush.
— Gooden during the Q&A session

Deaf Perspective on Sound

The film titled The 5%, directed by Alexandra Hickox and co-directed with Nathan Hughes-Berry, is a film that retells the true stories of Deaf individuals. It displays the intersection of three deaf people who have lived through shared experiences but are still living through different moments in their lives.

During the Q&A session, Hickox says she wanted to show how there isn't just one universal d/Deaf experience in the world, a common stereotype about the community. 

“It's a struggle to have representation within the film industry. Where is the Deaf community? There are not a lot of opportunities available,” said Hickox in a Zoom interview through a sign language interpreter.

In her film, Hickox strategically used the element of sound. When a deaf individual appeared on the screen, there was little to no sound and the film would often display the character's inner monologue through text. Whereas, when a supporting hearing character appeared on screen, there would be a variety of relevant audio.

“I played a lot with sound. We [deaf individuals] can’t hear anything but the other person can hear all these scenarios. I wanted to show the audience how it sounds different,” said Hickox.

However, as a Deaf person, it was difficult to explain the sound she wanted. “How do you explain a d/Deaf perspective on sound? How do you convey that through film? It was a challenge,” she said. 

Hickox emphasized that her team, composed of both hearing and deaf folks, was exceptional during this learning journey.  

I wanted to create a space for deaf folks and hearing folks to be able to work together. This is what being ‘Undivided’ is. Breaking that barrier.
— Hickox in an interview in sign language through an interpreter

Hickox is the founder of Undivided Productions, a Deaf-led initiative that showcases the richness of Deaf culture and Deaf talent through film production, art, poetry, theatre, comedy and more. 

Fatima T. Nafisa, an actor in Fable Deaf, explains how both cultures can thrive in unison. Fable Deaf is a film based on the magical story about an elderly Deaf archivist stubbornly rooted in history and tradition, whose rigid world is threatened by the arrival of a young traveller with an ancient map.

During the Q&A session, Nafisa said there are various ways a production team can work together. For example, her own team elicited support to cue each other. Instead of saying “action” to cue the beginning of a new scene, a team member would tap the actor's leg or use more visual forms of communication. She said there’s beauty and appreciation about adapting to the diverse backgrounds around you.

The Future for Deaf Creatives

The Unify Deaf Film Festival displayed four powerful and moving short films. His Hand, His Art, The 5%, The Multi and Fable Deaf are films whose messages will remain for generations to come. 

“We needed a starting place. ‘Oh, you can work with Deaf people?’ Of course you can! We hope to make creatives aware that this is a possibility. That's what I want for Undivided Productions and for the Unify Deaf Film Festival. For us to have more collaborations between hearing and deaf,” said Hickox.

The Unify Deaf Film Festival and Undivided Productions are breaking barriers. To current and up-and-coming Deaf filmmakers and creatives, this is just the beginning. 

The future of deepfakes isn’t memes – it’s nonconsensual porn: A review of Another Body

Filmmakers Sophie Compton and Reuben Hamlyn want to reclaim the online space for women in their new documentary on the misuse of deepfake technology.

By Sarah Grishpul

Imagine you received a message from a friend one day with a link to a porn site to which you discover that there are a bunch of pornographic videos with your face on them.

That is how directors Sophie Compton and Reuben Hamlyn’s documentary, Another Body, starts. In the film, we follow Taylor, a young college student whose life turns upside down after discovering someone has posted deepfake pornography, using her face, online.

Deepfakes are artificially generated footage created by running a large collection of images through AI software. 

While many people may have encountered deepfakes through memes or silly videos of Nicolas Cage on Arnold Schwarzenegger’s body, at least 96 per cent of this technology has been utilized for pornographic content. The majority of these victims are nonconsenting women.

The documentary is a slow-burn thriller that guides the viewer through a situation every modern young woman fears. There is a constant sense of unease and dread as we see Taylor close off from the world while more deepfake videos of her are posted. It’s heartbreaking to witness this youthful, carefree girl slowly become undone by such an act of hate.

Throughout this documentary, we follow Taylor’s journey as she works relentlessly to seek justice for this egregious invasion of privacy. However, as the film hammers home, most countries don’t have proper online harassment laws surrounding this new technology.

Even in Canada, there are no criminal deepfake laws in place. It is also difficult to punish the creators of pornographic deepfakes as the perpetrator is often hiding behind an anonymous online identity.

The documentary is shot similarly to most found-footage films (picture Aneesh Chaganty’s 2018 film Searching), with many scenes shot from Taylor’s phone or laptop while capturing her reactions in vlogs, Zoom meetings or through social media sites and forums. 

When initially developing the idea for this documentary, Compton and Hamlyn wanted to bring awareness to this growing issue that not many are aware of. In an interview with CanCulture, the pair discussed the ethics behind approaching Taylor and sharing her story without invading her space.

“By allowing her to self-record her story, she's the one who decides when the camera turns on and when the camera turns off, she decides when she wants to speak and when she doesn't and by sort of doing that, we provide her with control over how her story is told,” said Hamlyn. “It kind of makes her collaborator in the process more so than the junior typical documentary subject.”

Aside from giving Taylor control over her narrative, Hamlyn also mentioned that they wanted to reclaim the online platforms that had stripped so many women of their agency.

“We want to celebrate these online forms of communication and documentation, and so by recreating that in the style of the film, we're trying to put forward quite how powerful that can be as a mechanism of using your voice,” said Hamlyn.

The pair also utilized this AI tool to demonstrate how powerful this technology can be while also protecting Taylor’s identity, as it is revealed in the film that the face we’ve been staring at isn’t her actual face — but rather, a deepfake of another actress (Ava Breuer).

According to the filmmakers, deepfake technology isn’t inherently problematic. However, it becomes an issue when not used responsibly.

“They don't understand that this technology, when used to recreate a realistic-looking video, can be pretty much seamless,” said Compton. “And so by being able to use the technology in the film not just to protect our subjects, we also really can persuade the audience and clarify how terrifying the technology can be when misused.”

Compton and Hamlyn hope that this documentary will help bring awareness to this ongoing issue while destigmatizing the illusion of these online predators and addressing this kind of abuse and misogyny in our communities.

“The Internet is the most important public forum in human history, in my opinion, and the right answer is not to withdraw from it just to protect yourself from this,” said Hamlyn. “We need to find a way of making it safe for women to freely participate in online spaces.”

The documentary is part of their campaign #MyImageMyChoice meant to amplify the stories of survivors and advocate for stronger laws surrounding deepfake abuse. Compton says they started a petition to block these sites from promoting image abuse and email templates that people can send to political representatives.

“What we've really witnessed in Taylor's story is that if you persevere and keep investigating and reach out to people and find community, things can really shift,” said Compton.

“So, I hope that people sense the glimmer of opportunity and hope in that.”

Another Body will be playing at the Ted Rogers Hot Docs Cinema before streaming on CBC Gem on November 22nd.

Fitriya: Muslim On and Off The Court redefines what it means to be a Muslim woman in sports

This documentary traces Fitriya Mohamed's journey as she reshapes the Toronto sports landscape and advocates for representation of Muslim women in the world of basketball.

By: Nageen Riaz

Fitriya: Muslim On and Off The Court doesn’t have a release date yet, but more information will be released soon on the film's Instagram account (Courtesy of Jake Y Ian)

Fitriya: Muslim On and Off the Court is a short documentary that delves into the incredible journey of Fitriya Mohamed, a Muslim female athlete and the driving force behind the Muslim Women’s Summer Basketball League (MWSBL). The film shines a light on the complexities that come with trying to find a safe space for Muslim women athletes and why such a space is so vital to Toronto’s landscape. Even when facing cultural barriers and endless challenges, Fitriya continues to fight for representation and aims to redefine what Muslim women can do, both on and off the court. 

“The one change I hope this documentary brings is a narrative shift for Muslim women and for people to understand there are so many other complex characteristics to us,” said co-director and writer, Selina McCallum. 

McCallum first pitched the idea for the documentary as part of an alumni callout for the OYA Black Arts Coalition. She had been a part of their emerging filmmakers' program in 2019 and saw this callout as an opportunity to create a documentary surrounding Muslim athletes. 

“I reached out to Fitriya and asked her if it would be okay if I pitched MWSBL as a story and she was totally on board,” said McCallum. “From there Safa really fought for my film so I really appreciate both of them for being so passionate from day one and advocates all the way through.”

Safa Ali Mudei was originally the producer but later also took on the role of co-director and writer alongside McCallum. “Working with Selina was so inspiring because it just made me feel like I was at home. It made me feel centred and aligned so that I can adhere to my religion as a Muslim woman while also creating the art that I wish to see,” said Mudei.

The documentary had a lot of support, both from the internal team as well as from OYA, but getting it to the big screen was no easy feat. With pre-production spanning from October to December of 2022 and post-production from January to April this year, the film was completed over seven months ago. Currently, it has seen widespread success and positive feedback, with festival screenings in both Canada and Australia and future screenings in the works.

“What made the response so wonderful and important was the feedback we got from our Muslim peers, especially Muslim women, knowing that they can see somebody else that may look like them and may even live the same experience as them on the screen,” said Mudei. “It’s important to recognize that they are as powerful as they know they are and they're able to express that in a bigger light.”

The mission was always to empower Muslim women, but finding the space and resources to do that wasn’t always easy. The documentary shines a light on the stories of Melissa McLetchie and Nazie Shakur, two women who embraced Islam despite the challenges and islamophobia they faced. They both share how important MWSBL is in fighting back against these barriers and how the league allows Muslim women to truly feel like they belong.

“I think it’s very important for us to be a source of positive representation in basketball as Muslim women,” said Melissa McLetchi in the documentary. “To challenge the stereotypes, challenge the misconceptions and just to show people that yes we are Muslim, we are women, we wear hijab but we do other things too.”

Four women, one sitting and three standing around her, all smile at the camera

Left to Right - Nazie Shakur, Fitriya Mohamed, Melissa P. McLetchie and Selina McCallum (Rahma Alim)

Fitriya Mohamed first launched MWSBL in the summer of 2020, but due to COVID-19, its first season was postponed to 2022. Since then, the Toronto-based non-profit basketball league has seen great success in its community and has united women every summer through the sport.

“I’m doing the work today because basketball has done so much for me and I want to give back. MWSBL has been my way of doing that and growing the sport within my community,” said Mohamed. “What we really wanna do is shed a light on Muslim women doing amazing things and them taking up space. Those are some of the things we do with MWSBL and I just wanted to make sure that it's portrayed that way in the documentary.”

“Fitriya recognized that she wasn't able to play safely in a spot while also adhering to Islam,” said Mudei. “And so what she did was create her own space where she could also welcome other youth and that has been such a light to see with the amount of impact it had on so many people.”

Despite Fitriya’s unwavering determination, MWSBL is still yet to find a permanent home as establishing a safe women-only space is proving to be a struggle. “Finding a space like that isn’t easy and so the mission is to make the league sustainable in that way so we have a set location every year,” she said.

Not only is MWSBL fighting for a permanent spot in Toronto, but also a spot for Muslim women in competitive athletics globally. 

“I know a lot of people experience external factors, like not being able to play wearing their hijab at the highest level of competition,” said Mohamed. “But we’re doing the work to ensure to our community and our girls, at least in Canada, that doesn't happen.”

The documentary redefines what it means to be a Muslim woman by highlighting how every individual has their own story and capabilities. “It was the passion and grit behind Fitriya and her story that inspired this documentary. Just being around her and seeing how she really wants to change the narrative for Muslim women in sports and overall,” said McCallum. “I just knew it was a strong story, a powerful one that would touch many people, Muslim and non-Muslim.”

“The message to take away from this film is definitely don’t let people change who you are, just let them accept you for how you come,” said Mudei.

Fitriya: Muslim On and Off the Court will be available to watch online, look out for more details on their Instagram account.

Founders Day: A bloody political slasher film review #TADFF

Maybe politics do kill…

By: Aliya Karimjee

A killer with a red mask and a periwig holding a gavel.

Founders Day premiered at this year's Toronto After Dark Film Festival (Courtesy of TADFF)

Does voting scare you? Do you fear a future with too much consistency that there will be no further development or one that includes drastic changes? That’s the case with Founders Day, a horror film where political opinions are a driving force to kill. 

The Bloomquist brothers released Founders Day for its Canadian premiere at this year’s Toronto After Dark Film Festival.

Director-actor Erik Bloomquist, accompanied by his brother Carson Bloomquist, who produced and helped write the film with his brother, both got involved in the making of this bold and bloody movie. From the synopsis, we learn that this is a “series of ominous killings in the week leading up to a heated mayoral election.” 

This American film’s title is based off of the actual holiday that celebrates the creation of the United States Declaration of Independence. Politics plays a big part in a killer’s mastermind’s plan.

Taking place after the murder of Melissa (Olivia Nikkane), one of two star-crossed lovers, continuous killings take place--even at a family festival celebrating the political holiday.  From that incident, punishable pranks started taking place and people impersonated the killer to scare others. 

After finding out who the murderer is, a big cliffhanger comes up making us wonder what could possibly happen after that event, but that is for you to find out. Who knew holidays were so dangerous?

Initially, I didn’t have high expectations from a political slasher. However, I fell in love with the movie as the plot kept me intrigued and always wanting to know what would happen next. 

Throughout the flick, we learn the characters’ nature and personalities, attaching us to them through their various challenges. For example, Melissa’s girlfriend, Allison Chambers played by Naomi Grace, went through a series of obstacles and near-death experiences as she and her loved ones were threatened with death.

The plot twists made me want to scream and throw my computer at the wall with how unpredictable it was! 

The visuals were also out of this world - such as the killer’s red creepily smiling mask, which I already knew would give me nightmares for days.

Like the primarily known poem “Roses are red, violets are blue…,” the murders followed the same poetic concept in red writing with subtle hints to help us determine the killer, making it more fun and interactive for us viewers. 

Not only was the film fun, but it was wildly funny! The Bloomquist brothers know how to perfectly time the comedic beats. One character even cried of regret and ran half-naked in fear in a comedic way. 

The only negative note I have is that there should be a content warning regarding a line that casually mentions sexual assault. 

All that being said, the plot twist at the end was well thought out, the visuals were excellent, and the comedy was perfectly timed. If you’re a fan of the Halloween or Scream franchises, you need to add this movie to your watchlist! 

Lovely, Dark, and Deep: A deeper look into the terrifying woods #TADFF23

A mysterious unraveling by Teresa Sutherland at Toronto After Dark Film Festival

By Alisha Shaikh

Still shot from Lovely, Dark, and Deep, of  Georgina Campbell’s character, against a tree with blood dripping on the side of her face.

Still shot from Lovely, Dark, and Deep (Courtesy of TDAFF)

Lovely, Dark, and Deep, a psychological horror film directed and written by Teresa Sutherland, was screened at the Toronto After Dark Film Festival, an annual showcase of horror, sci-fi, thriller, and action cinema.

After co-writing, Midnight Mass, a successful Netflix horror series, Teresa Sutherland makes her directorial debut with Lovely, Dark, and Deep. The beautifully directed horror film stars Georgina Campbell, best known for her roles in the horror films Barbarian and Bird Box Barcelona. The film follows Lennon, Campbell’s character, a new backcountry ranger, as she wanders the terrifyingly strange wilderness to learn more about the tragedies that occurred there and have plagued her since she was a young child.

Campbell’s acting throughout the film was very realistic. She fully immersed herself in the role, and brought her character to life. Campbell’s character is very intricate, as she is haunted by past memories but still shows persistence in moving forward and finding answers. One gets the impression that they are traveling on a quest of horrifying discovery alongside Campbell's character, experiencing all of her feelings. 

The film direction plays a brilliant role in capturing the audience, creating an eerie and mysterious atmosphere throughout the film. Sutherland's directorial talents are well-displayed in the film; these skills are a key factor in why Lovely, Dark, and Deep has the feel of a psychological horror film that truly scares the audience.

The film’s colour palette is based on brownish, cool, and dull tones. This is perfect to create the lure of the terrifying woods and what lies behind the shadows. Many scenes follow dark and gloomy undertones, which allows the audience to feel present in the woods as if they are rangers themselves. 

While Sutherland has shown off her directorial talents in Lovely, Dark, and Deep, her writing talents seem to have been overshadowed. The plot starts strong and steady, slowly drawing the audience in. However, it does not excel beyond that. Lovely, Dark, and Deep’s storyline shortly turns confusing and disjointed. 

The film starts off greatly while hooking the audience to the plot. The scenes gradually build up, creating suspense with characters covered in blood and terrified by the unknown. Viewers are left wondering why people are going missing in the woods—is there a bigger monster lurking in the shadows? 

The plot continues to thicken, creating a lure, but then ends with no answer, solution, or explanation. The main issue with the plot lies in its lack of closure; it ends with the viewer longing for more answers or at least an explanation. The ending feels foolish since the audience is left wondering, “What does that mean? Huh?”

All in all, while the ending of the film did lack closure, Lovely, Dark, and Deep is a greatly crafted horror film. Campbell’s acting highlights Sutherland's talents, bringing together a great film for the Halloween season.

Restore Point: a unique, original new addition to the sci-fi cyberpunk genre #TADFF23

The film challenges its audience with difficult ethical questions to ponder long after the credits have stopped rolling.

(Courtesy of TADFF)

By Azalea Young

Robert Hloz isn’t new to the filmmaking game—he has already directed three projects, and his latest, Restore Point, is a fast-paced sci-fi thriller that keeps you intrigued in this world and these characters until the end. The film examines themes surrounding capitalism and even comments on the justice system. When the film concludes, the viewer is left with one important question: what will our own future look like?

Set in the year 2041 in Central Europe, we follow Agent Em (Andrea Mohylová), a detective on the police force who is investigating the terrorist attacks of a group called River of Life. They do not use or believe in the resurrection technology of Restore Point, which allows a person to come back to life if they have a backup version of themselves saved. People who use this technology have to back up every 48 hours to protect themselves from death.

When Em hears about the murders of David Kurlstat and his wife (Matej Hádek and Katarzyna Zawadzka), she is reassigned to that case and eventually comes to discover how the terrorist attacks and the couple’s deaths are intertwined. She finds out that David, a prominent researcher at Restore Point has come back to life via a saved backup of his brain and body from six months ago, and the investigation turns into a manhunt for his murderer, Viktor Toffer (Milan Ondrík). 

When Em and David inevitably find Toffer, he reveals information about Restore Point that leads them to uncover the secrets the corporation keeps hidden. It appears that in a world where humanity has beaten death, there are still greater threats lurking.

The worldbuilding is reminiscent of other sci-fi cyberpunk-esque films but produces an original concept with the idea of the Restore Point system. For a film set in the year 2041, this world almost seems accessible today, even though it’s still 18 years away. The reasoning for this is simple. In an interview with CanCulture, Hloz said that he wants viewers to see the idea of this technology in its early stages. 

“These first users are used as test subjects,” he said. “We wanted [the technology] to feel new, the same way it will feel new for the audience.” Hloz also adds that because he wanted the technology to feel very new, the time frame was potentially going to be earlier than 2041. “We were having discussions about whether [the film] should be even earlier, like maybe 2038, but it felt too close,” he said. 

Besides fleshing out the technology, the characters are also fully developed, and each has their own ambitions and struggles. The main character, Em, is a character that demonstrates this very well. The audience can clearly see why she is invested in the crimes that have been happening, and how her past has played a large part in bringing her into the police field. The beginning of the film, in particular, shows the audience why she has become more reserved and quiet but puts on a strong facade. Her grief over the people she has lost is carried with her, and Mohylová does an excellent job of showing the audience this when interacting with characters like David, as they bond over the loss of his loved ones.

The film presents interesting questions about the value of life and death, and how they operate in this world. When asked about the technology’s ability to bypass death, Hloz talks about how the topic plays into the overarching message of the movie. 

“Where is the boundary [between] how we should feel safe and how should we feel free?” He said. “It starts an interesting debate.”

Hloz adds that because of the technology people are simultaneously free but not free, since they spend so much time thinking about the system keeping them alive and restoring their backups to really enjoy much else. 

“It gives you this amazing safety but at the same time, it takes away your freedom because it constantly reminds you that you can die at any moment, and you should do something against that,” he said. “It gives you this extra layer of stress.”

Since the Restore Point technology imposes a new set of rules for humanity, the themes that Hloz discusses here spark a compelling debate about how ethical this technology really is in the hands of humans. It’s up to viewers to decide for themselves where they stand on such a heavy question.

Restore Point presents a dark and immersive world not unlike our own, potentially giving us a glimpse into what our future can look like. It offers its audience the chance to become intrigued with its technology and new rules, putting a spin on classic dystopian and sci-fi films while giving us something unique. The end of the film also asks the audience to think about how our justice system works, and whether or not the conclusion for some of the characters is justified.

Although Restore Point is not as dramatic or fast-paced as others in the genre, it’s still a fun time if you’re looking for an adventurous movie that captivates you from the start and leaves you questioning your own mortality.

Turning a Christmas classic into a slasher: An interview with the writer-producer of It’s A Wonderful Knife #TADFF23

After writing the script for Freaky (2020), Michael Kennedy returns to the horror genre with a new and bloody spin on It’s Wonderful Life.

By: Isabella Soares 

 Jane Widdop as Winnie Carruthers in It’s a Wonderful Knife (Image via RLJE Films and Shudder)

Writer and producer Michael Kennedy’s latest onscreen endeavour, It’s A Wonderful Knife, brings a new twist to the 1940s holiday classic by turning it into a slasher. 

The film is focused on Winnie Carruthers, played by Yellowjackets’ alum Jane Widdop, a girl who struggles to carry on after she saves her town from a masked serial killer. As she wishes to have never been born, Winnie ends up in a parallel universe that shows her what would have happened to her family and community if she didn’t exist. 

It isn’t the first time that Kennedy has come up with a slasher based on a feel-good classic. His first venture was in 2020 with Freaky, a body-swap horror film that was inspired by the Freaky Friday series. The positive feedback and memorable experiences on set on his previous project were what drew him to partner with director Tyler MacIntyre to work on It’s a Wonderful Knife, both as a writer and a producer. 

Ahead of the film’s sold-out screening at the 2023 Toronto After Dark Film Festival, Kennedy spoke with CanCulture about the behind-the-scenes process of writing the script, casting Justin Long as the devious Mayor Henry Waters (aka the psychotic serial killer tormenting Angel Falls) and how Freaky prepared him to be a producer for the first time. 

This film is a spin on a holiday classic, It's a Wonderful Life. Why did you decide to use this holiday favourite as inspiration for the script?

I always wanted to do a Christmas slasher. So I instantly thought of It's a Wonderful Life because it was my dad's favourite movie. I thought it was a nice way to honour him since he passed away five years ago. That was the first movie that came to my mind, and I started running through the plot in my head, and I was like, yeah, this (a slasher) would actually make a really fun spin on it.

What I really like about this film is that you already know who the killer is right off the bat. This is different from other slasher films like Scream (1996), which always make you wonder who the killer is. What led you to this creative decision?

I wanted to subvert expectations. I also didn't want to have a kill in the first five minutes, so that's kind of a bit different too. I knew there was no way to avoid revealing who the killer was. If the basis of the movie was going to be about somebody who kills, stops a killer, and then wishes their life away. That killer is still going to be around.

I thought it was a fun and a deeper way to examine that portion of life that you never get to see in these slasher movies unless there's a sequel a year later where you get a quick up-to-speed on what that person's been up to but you never get to see the post effects of the hero taking down the villain and what that does to their mind.

How did you find a balance between horror and the uplifting feel of a holiday film in this Christmas slasher?

Christmas is also a rough time for a lot of people, so I thought there was an interesting way to discuss that through the movie. For me it was really natural cause I love horror and I absolutely love Christmas. I love Christmas horror movies.

You're also a producer in this project, which is really exciting because it allows you to also figure out casting. When did Justin Long's name come into the conversation? 

It was pretty late, honestly. We literally cast him, I think the week before we started shooting. We were in negotiations with him for a few weeks before that, but his name came up pretty late. The character kept changing, quite frankly. The original draft of the script had more of an older guy, in his fifties or sixties.

It was a role that we were just struggling to cast. So then about a month before we started to shoot, we had the whole movie filled, except that role. 

We had a conversation, and I was like, I think we need to make him a man my age. I'm 43. That was when someone from the studio was like, oh, we should get Justin Long for that.

As a producer, were you on set with the director and cast every day?

It's different in every movie, depending on what capacity you produce. But for me, yeah, I was there every day. I was involved from day one, even before there was a word written. I weighed in on casting, I weighed in on locations, and I weighed in on hiring Tyler (director). 

Tyler fosters a really collaborative set and we had a really fast shoot. Thank God it came naturally for everybody because there would be days when I'd be writing based on the location.

We had a day that we completely got rained out, so we had to take an entire day that was supposed to be outside and move it inside and figure out a way that made it work and make sense to the movie. It was crazy because I'd never produced before.

How was your experience on Freaky compared to this set, where you had a chance to be more involved in the production process?

We shot Freaky for over 35 days and I think I was there for 25 of them, but I was mostly there to learn. Normally, the writer isn't usually on set, but I wrote the movie with Chris, who directed it, so as he was prepping the movie, I said, can I come? And he goes, yeah, if you want to come, definitely come. I felt like Freaky was my film school and It’s a Wonderful Knife was my coming out party as a filmmaker.

It’s a Wonderful Knife arrives in select theatres and VOD on November 10.




Family reunions can be a real killer: A review of Daniel’s Gotta Die #TADFF23

Sibling rivalry just got a whole lot deadlier in the premiere of Jeremy LaLonde’s dark comedy at the Toronto After Dark Film Festival

By Sarah Grishpul

If you thought your family was horrible — get a load of Daniel’s. 

Daniel’s Gotta Die is the latest dark comedy film from Canadian director Jeremy LaLonde, which had its Toronto premiere at this year’s Toronto After Dark Film Festival. The movie follows Daniel Powell (Joel David Moore), the son of eccentric, wealthy Canadian tycoon, Edward Powell (played by famous American musician Iggy Pop), who inherits a large fortune upon his father’s death. 

This is quite unfortunate for Daniel’s three siblings, Mia (Mary Lynn Rajskub), Victor (Jason Jones) and Jessica (Carly Chaikin), who stand to gain nothing if they don’t agree to tag along with Daniel on a weekend away together at their family beach house.

While Daniel is ecstatic at the opportunity to finally forge relationships with his estranged siblings, the other Powells have something else more sinister on their minds besides family bonding. 

If you’re keen on films that play around with the dysfunctional, spoiled family trope (similar to Knives Out or Succession), this is one Canadian feature that may pique your interest. 

Daniel is very much the straight man against his three wildly unhinged siblings, reminiscent of the level-headed Michael Bluth in Arrested Development. Much of the humour comes from his clueless naivety while interacting with his self-absorbed family. 

However, whenever Daniel isn’t playing off their antics, he becomes a dull and one-noted character. His entire role in the film is to be the naive, morally good man determined to see the best in people, yet even his desire to “live on the frequency of positivity” becomes a bit tiresome.

As for his siblings, Mary Lynn Rajskub, who plays the stoic (and possibly psychotic?) Mia Powell steals the show with her performance. The character reminds me of a much older Wednesday Addams, with her morbid sense of humour and deadpan inflections. 

Together, Mia and her coke-addicted twin brother, Victor, pair up to try and kill Daniel. This duo proves to be one of the funniest dynamics onscreen, as their relationship is much like a servant and his master. Mia concocts multiple ways to murder Daniel, while Victor struggles to work up the nerve to carry them out successfully. 

I wish the film had continued to have more moments of Daniel being oblivious to the many murder attempts courtesy of his siblings. There was one funny scene in which Victor tried to poison Daniel’s wine, only for him to pour it into the dinner he was cooking for the entire family. Watching Victor toss the dish out the window and attempt to hastily replicate the meal was delightful. 

As for their social media influencer sister, Jessica, apart from constantly being on her phone, she doesn’t get much to do in the film. Sure, she wants the money just as much as her other two siblings, but rather than commit the act herself, she convinces her boyfriend to kill him instead.

Rather, Jessica spends most of her time helping Lawrence, her father’s loyal advisor played by the late Bob Saget. He spends the majority of the movie trying to steal Daniel’s money from right under his nose. 

As a fan of Full House who would religiously watch the sitcom with her sister growing up, it was great to see him onscreen in his final film role. While Lawrence does have his moments of dripping sarcasm and zingers, my only gripe is that I wished he would have had more to do, as it often felt like his actions weren’t enough to carry the plot or my interest.

Despite that, the movie does a good job of paying tribute to the late actor – dedicating the film to Saget in the credits.

There were multiple moments in the film where comedic timing and delivery was impeccable (largely due to the talented Bob Saget, Mary Lynn Rajskub, and Jason Jones), yet still many of the jokes just did not land for me. The comedy was at its strongest when the Powells were not-so-discreetly attempting to murder Daniel, and I wish it had continued to play off his utter cluelessness.

As for the production value of the Powell family beach house, I thought it was quite well executed. For a movie that takes place majorly on the grounds of a massive mansion, the isolated location succeeds in creating an atmosphere that made me feel just as trapped as Daniel and his siblings.

While the story itself doesn’t exactly break new ground or add anything new to the genre, Daniel’s Gotta Die is a charming flick that reminds us all that while blood may be thicker than water — greed is often stronger than blood.

How to Not Direct a Sequel: A film review of Hey Viktor! #TIFF23

Cree Actor Cody Lightning’s debut feature Hey Viktor! is a biting comedy about the struggles to remain relevant and the toxic effect of a massive ego

By Sarah Grishpul

WARNING: This article contains spoilers for the film Hey Viktor!

Director, co-creator and lead actor Cody Lightning isn’t afraid to poke fun at himself in his debut feature film Hey Viktor! which had its Canadian premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) this year.

In a CBC interview, he talks about how the film started as an inside joke between him and his roommates, as they often quipped about Lightning using his fame as a child actor to behave like an entitled, bigshot star.

Hey Viktor! is a mockumentary comedy shot in Alberta documenting the fictional life of Lightning nearly 25 years after his childhood role in the 1998 film Smoke Signals. In the movie, a young Lightning plays “Little Victor,” the younger version of the main character during several flashback sequences.

For the Indigenous community, Smoke Signals was groundbreaking in portraying the ordinary lives of First Nations people while simultaneously dismantling harmful stereotypes. It was also the first movie to be written, directed, co-produced and acted by Indigenous people.

Hey Viktor! dives into the impact Smoke Signals had on Indigenous representation early on in the film, featuring talking head footage of the original cast reminiscing their time shooting the film and its cultural significance after its release.

However, for the fictional Cody Lightning, there’s almost an unhealthy attachment to the film, as he clings on to the role of Little Victor as the sole part of his identity. Upon first meeting Cody, it becomes clear that this is not the type of main character an audience would be inclined to root for, as the man is—to be frank—a real jerk. 

In the film, the real-life Cody Lightning plays an exaggerated caricature of himself as a middle-aged struggling Indigenous actor trying to relive the glory days of his childhood role. He spends his days teaching acting classes to youth, picking up acting side jobs in gay porn, and spending his earnings at the bar or on drugs.

The first act sets up Cody’s life quite well, establishing him as an absent father and self-centred friend drowning himself in alcohol and drugs as he descends into a downward spiral while the threads of his life start to unravel. It’s during the second act where the film leans heavily on comedy when Cody decides to create a sequel to Smoke Signals titled Smoke Signals 2.

The meta-production of this fan film is immediately a delightfully comedic dumpster fire, with Lightning unafraid to stoop even lower for the sake of a laugh at the expense of his character.

One of my favourite raunchy moments of the film was when Cody and his manager Kate (played by Hannah Cheeseman) woke up after spending most of their film funding on drugs and partying to find Cody buck-naked with fecal matter smeared against the glass door. 

(C’mon. Poop is funny.)

Whereas the first two acts were the comically strongest in setting up Cody’s life and intolerable character, the third act takes an emotional turn as Cody finds himself truly at the bottom of the barrel. After screening his film, which to no surprise ends up insulting and angering the audience, Cody is heckled off stage and a mob of spectators burns a giant prop of his head. 

He loses his girlfriend, kids, and even his best friend Kate, who has always stuck by him despite her own dreams. Finally losing her is what drives Cody to become a better person and, by doing so, creating a better sequel to Smoke Signals.

Overall, I deeply enjoyed this film and appreciate its bold and brazen humour. Even if you haven’t seen Smoke Signals, the film stands well enough on its own that audience members don’t need to rely on prior knowledge to have a good time with this one.

Hey Viktor! may be a little rough around the edges, but it’s got a lot of heart, and is a film I would definitely recommend to those in need of a good laugh.

Hey Viktor! is slated for a theatrical release in spring 2024 and will eventually land on Crave, where Canadian viewers can watch at home.

Review: Therapy Dogs — Fact vs. fiction

Do you dare to relieve high school with this student-made Canadian film? 

By: Daniella Lopez

Movie poster for Therapy Dogs (2022)

If your best friend jumped off a bridge, would you too? In Therapy Dogs — which premiered at the Slamdance Film Festival in January — the concept of reality and fiction frequently gets distorted and yes, these best friends will do anything together. 

This documentary-style student film captures best friends Ethan Eng and Justin Morrice as they embark on their final year of high school. Along the way, we see the lives and stories of their friends. With high school ending, the daunting question of “What’s next?” is often implied. Yet, whether the film portrays an accurate reality remains a mystery, as scenes throughout the film toy the line between clearly real, obviously fake and somewhere in between.

In a virtual Q-and-A at the festival, Eng, the film’s director, said he and his fellow screenwriter Morrice started working on the film in Grade 10. 

“We always wanted to make high school epic, that was the big thing and we wanted to mythologize it and put it into a story and use our friends,” said Eng. “It was kind of our version of trying to figure out what our lives meant at that time.”

In the opening scene, Justin is lectured by his mother while she drives about the importance of his final year in high school. That is, until Justin hops out of the moving car, the line between fact and fiction blurring almost immediately. 

Now, cut to Ethan filming students inside his high school — Cawthra Park Secondary School in Mississauga, Ont. The catch? Without permission from the school, he discreetly records students, describing the film as a yearbook video, while filming his friends performing mischievous activities. 

We always wanted to make high school epic.
— Ethan Eng

Throughout the film, viewers get an inside look into the mind of high schoolers showing their authentic selves. But, viewers will notice a few moments of tension; a run-in with the police, a conversation that turns violent and a do-or-die moment — because what’s high school without drama? 

Both the opening and closing scenes of the film are shot with a higher-quality camera compared to the rest of the film; in these instances, the film feels serious and rehearsed. However, it feels fitting to have the film open and close with this type of cinematography, as the beginning and end of high school are often crucial times in a person’s life. In contrast, the rest of the film is shot by what appears to be an amateur; yet, it’s joyful and lighthearted. 

Each scene is complete with multiple angles of each shot and lots of quick cuts. While the numerous cuts were initially confusing, it creates some form of suspense for the viewer; what will happen next? It leaves the viewer wanting to keep watching and in the end, each character’s arc culminates. 

Eng said he always had a camera on him. “I’d be recording everything … having cameras stuffed in my pockets at all times, for different angles too.” Altogether, this makes the majority of the film feel authentic and raw. 

Eng said he took inspiration from multiple movies and filmmakers, specifically Matthew Johnson’s movie The Dirties (2013), a comedy where two best friends film a revenge movie on their high school bullies, often blurring the line between reality and fiction. “[Johnson] really taught us a lot, especially that stuff with what’s real and what’s fake. I consider him a bit of a magician in that regard.”

In the Q-and-A, both Eng and Morrice said that the majority of the movie is real. However, that’s hard to believe when watching certain scenes, particularly at the movie's end. “I’d say even 100 per cent of everything we do in the movie is real, whether it’s emotional or physically real,” said Eng. 

Justin’s emotions are the most interesting throughout the film. Initially, viewers notice his dread in the vehicle with his mom. Yet, when Justin is with his friends, his mellow nature shines through. The level of comfort Justin and Ethan have with each other throughout most of the film is obvious, and scenes never feel forced; the film feels like a tag-along between two best friends.

However, midway through the film, an awkward exchange between Justin and Ethan leaves Justin furious. It’s a shocking turn of events for the best friends who seemingly always agree with one another. It’s here that the film takes a drastic turn. The following scenes feel tense and awkward; perhaps an ode to the awkward stage of high school. But, the most surprising emotion exhibited by Justin nears the end of the film when a dangerous idea between the two friends goes wrong and the film shows Justin’s most vulnerable side. 

Therapy Dogs has a unique perspective compared to other coming-of-age movies. Eng brilliantly captures the minds of high school students during a time in life when everything is up in the air. The film immerses viewers in the scene too, as the characters comfortably share their lives with the camera. While high school is a time of life that many never want to look back on, for those who watch, this film will create a sense of nostalgia. 

Rating: 4/5