Liv McNeil breaks out in behind-the-scenes work with new documentary, The Making of Priscilla

This young Canadian filmmaker shares the raw connection that she and many young females share with Priscilla Presley  

By: Nicole Soroka

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Liv (@livmcneil_)

In the fall of 2022, Priscilla Presley’s story was brought to life on set in Toronto, reimagining the days that the teenage girl lived out with the king of rock ‘n’ roll. However, the stories of young Presley were not the only presence of a young girl on set.

In June 2020, Etobicoke School of the Arts student Liv McNeil posted her short film on YouTube, Numb, highlighting a handful of emotions that high school students faced during the height of the COVID-19 lockdown and online learning. At this time, McNeil was only in the ninth grade and it did not take long for her film to reach a wide audience, quickly proving how much young talent there is to be discovered in Canada. 

McNeil’s immense talent gained the attention of many prominent people in the industry, including Canadian filmmaker Sarah Polley, who later cast McNeil in her 2022 Oscar-winning film, Women Talking. Shortly thereafter, McNeil was once again noticed by a leading female force in the industry, Sofia Coppola, who asked the young filmmaker to join her on her latest project, Priscilla. Coppola approached McNeil about shooting a behind-the-scenes documentary of the film, an opportunity that would continue to open doors for McNeil. 

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Liv (@livmcneil_)

During the live Q&A at the TIFF Next Wave Canadian premiere of her documentary, The Making of Priscilla, McNeil explained how Coppola brought her onto the project.

“John Buchan is friends with Sofia Coppola and he brought her to the TIFF screening of Women Talking,” said McNeil. “Then Sarah Polley introduces me on stage as Liv McNeil, a young filmmaker, and Sofia goes, ‘Who's that? I'm looking for a young girl to make a behind-the-scenes documentary.’ And then I'm meeting Jacob Elordi.”

The nearly 30-minute film invites viewers onto the set of Priscilla and features interviews with Coppola, Priscilla Presley and lead actress, Cailee Spaeny. They share insights into how Priscilla came to be, how Presley herself felt about the project and the labour of love that went into making the film. 

Additionally, McNeil also connects her own experiences to those of Presley. During the premiere, McNeil explained that she had little to no vision of the documentary’s focus going into her first day on set. She had originally planned to simply narrate what occurred during their 30-day shoot and dig deeper into the film’s evolution. However, seeing the story of Presley’s life unfold in front of her proved that their life experiences may be more intertwined than she realized, creating the perfect storyline for her film. 

“I'm a young girl shooting the behind-the-scenes of a story about another young girl,” said McNeil. “Obviously, very different lives, but there's something to be said about that.”

McNeil continued to elaborate on Spaeny’s thoughts about her title role and regardless of how elaborate her life became, Presley experienced what many women still go through to this day. 

“No matter how big or small the story, whatever Priscilla went through is what a lot of women go through,” said McNeil. “You leave your parents, you grow up, you get married, you have a child, it becomes really human. And you see a girl there instead of an object.”

Expanding on her experience working with Coppola, McNeil shared that the director was with her every step of the way. 

“Every so often she would check in and she would often say, ‘get in there, get in there, you're here for a reason, I want you to be here,’” said McNeil. “Coming from Sofia Coppola I was like, ‘okay, okay, okay, sure, I'll go in, I’ll go in, I'll do whatever you need me to do.’ Then I’d get right in the way and I’d step on people's toes. And it was difficult to do, but I knew I had to do it.”

However, Coppola wasn’t the only person on set who had McNeil’s back. She revealed that her father, who is also a filmmaker, accompanied her during the shooting process. While Coppola, who knows a thing or two about having a father in the industry, urged McNeil to use her own ideas and instincts, McNeil was grateful to have her father by her side.

“I think I would have died on set if it wasn't for him,” said McNeil. “He really really did save my life multiple times.”

McNeil also spoke to CanCulture in an interview and shared some behind-the-scenes secrets that weren’t included in the documentary. One of the key memories that stood out to McNeil occurred at the end of filming and included one adorable dog. 

“Jacob [Elordi’s] dog just took a dump on set,” said McNeil. “There was this piece of fake grass and it was at the end and we were popping champagne and the dog [got] loose and the dog [was] running around and having a good time. She was running around and she just like squats, sits on the fake grass and [Elordi] was like ‘don’t look, don’t look.’” 

McNeil also expanded on how having previous acting experience has helped shape her attitude behind the camera. She explained that she has more empathy for what the actors experience during a shoot, such as when they’re worried or in need of a break, and how she is able to form a meaningful connection with the actors on her projects. 

“All the actors that I work with on my short films are already my friends or they become my friends because I think that's really important to become close with the people that you're intimate with and vulnerable with and making art with,” said McNeil. 

The Making of Priscilla proved just how talented McNeil truly is, at such a young age nonetheless. The questions McNeil asked the cast and crew throughout her on-set interviews revealed her curiosity and eagerness to learn. The documentary also highlighted her tenacity and willingness to push outside her comfort zone. 

The connections that McNeil made between Presley’s young life and her own personal experiences are nothing short of genius. By taking a public figure and highlighting the parts of her life that many women may be able to relate to on some scale is humanizing and a fresh perspective to take in the film industry. I appreciated McNeil’s ability to take what I found to be the best scenes in Priscilla and dive into the emotional aspects the cast went through while filming them, as well as showcase some of the conversations that Coppola and Presley shared prior to/during the filmmaking process. 

As McNeil continues her studies in film at Concordia University, audiences will have to wait and see what is next for this inspiring Canadian filmmaker. As a first year university student, McNeil has already had the opportunity to work on a film set for one of the most anticipated films from 2023. Even more, this filmmaker is bringing a great deal of pride to Canada by showcasing how much this country has to offer to the film industry. 

 The Making of Priscilla is currently available for viewing through Elevation Pictures on Youtube and in the United States through the A24 app. 

Beyond the Silver Screen: The work of film archival and archivists

 Props, costumes and set pieces are the backbone for immersing us in the films we watch but what happens to this artwork after filming ends?

By Luis Ramirez-Liberato

(Luis Ramirez-Liberato/CanCulture)

Tucked away on the fourth floor of the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) Lightbox is TIFF's very own film reference library tasked with collecting, preserving and providing access to a wide variety of film history. 

As a way of connecting the public to Canada's filmmaking heritage, TIFF presents "Archival Jolt!" An open invitation for the public to peer behind the curtain of film preservation and delve into the world of archival experts. Organized to celebrate TIFF's Canada's Top Ten programming, this event offers patrons an opportunity to witness firsthand the work of film archivists and explore the impressive collection of heritage items from Canadian moviemaking.

Fly head prop from The Fly (Luis Ramirez-Liberato/CanCulture)

Natania Sherman, Senior Manager at the TIFF Film Reference Library, shared insights into her job as an archivist.  Sherman says  a majority of their collections come from donations by production companies, like with their latest acquisition of props from David Cronenberg's Crimes of the Future.

"We're very lucky that TIFF has these relationships with different production companies and filmmakers. They've seen the work that we've been doing to preserve Canadian Heritage, so they trust us with their materials," said Sherman.

Piece of the Sark from Crimes of the Future (Luis Ramirez-Liberato/CanCulture)

The process of taking props from donation to display can be difficult. Often, donated film materials arrive in storage in a condition unsuitable for long-term preservation. Therefore, archivists must transfer them to acid-free casings and proper storage to ensure their longevity for future generations. Additionally, props used in films are often not built to stand the test of time.

"They're really made for the purpose of making the film," said Sherman. "So you might have these beautiful art pieces that are made to last for maybe three to six months of filming, but they're made out of materials that aren't necessarily fine art materials meant to last a long time."

Sark attachments before being moved into proper storage (Luis Ramirez-Liberato/CanCulture)

Preserving Cronenberg's work can be a difficult task due to the "unstable chemical makeups" and "jello-like texture" of the materials he uses, says Sherman. Many of his pieces are quite large, with some towering over attendees at the "Archival Jolt!" exhibit. Working with Cronenberg's material involves logistical challenges and requires specialized art handlers to bring them on-site.

The breakfaster prop from Crimes of the Future (Luis Ramirez-Liberato/CanCulture)

Along with preserving film, the work of an archivist is akin to solving a puzzle where each prop used in a film reveals new insights and secrets of its own. When donated, props may not come with labels or instructions, making it challenging for archivists to understand their mechanics and functionality. Therefore, film archivists must put together the pieces of the puzzle and decipher how each prop works. Often, this means analyzing every frame of a film to see where props are used in a scene. From the subtle placement of a vintage lamp to the grandeur of a larger-than-life set piece, every detail is meticulously documented, ensuring a comprehensive understanding of its contribution to Canadian cinema.

The Sark from Crimes of the Future (Luis Ramirez-Liberato/CanCulture)

Archivists, especially those working at film reference libraries, face the challenge of balancing preserving historical items and making them accessible to the public. Their primary goal is to safeguard these props for future generations. As an archivist, you must ensure that the items are handled with care, stored in climate-controlled environments and kept in storage for as long as possible to ensure their longevity. Still, they also strive to make them available to the public.

"But the problem is, sometimes that sort of puts you in this position. It's almost like being a gatekeeper," says Sherman. 

Sherman says that younger archivists emphasize facilitating public engagement with film material and exploring ways to increase access to these archives. The film reference library collaborates with programming colleagues at TIFF to change the displays in the Lightbox building periodically. This initiative aims to establish a connection between audiences and craftsmanship that goes on behind the scenes of the films they have just watched.

Ramona Flowers’ outfit from Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (Luis Ramirez-Liberato/CanCulture)

Through initiatives like rotating displays and educational programs, they bridge the gap between preservation and engagement, ensuring that the magic of Canadian cinema remains within reach.

"It's very important that we're not just hiding things away for some unnamed time, the future, but we're also making sure that people can access things now," says Sherman.

In attempting to connect the public with Canada's film heritage, the Film Reference Library has recently updated its collecting mandate to better reflect Canadian diversity in cinema. With the library's collection being primarily donation-based, it faces the hurdle of over-representing white auteur male directors. The underrepresentation of marginalized communities is an aspect of the archival process that Sherman and her peers try to be mindful of. The Film Reference Library aims to preserve the "diverse faces in Canadian cinema" through acquisitions from underrepresented communities and reflect a "full spectrum," says Sherman.

For Sherman, it is connecting people with these moments in Canadian cinema that she finds most rewarding. The special feeling that people get from connecting with a piece of history that matters to them is what brought about the name "Archival Jolt!"

“There's this a-ha moment that you feel when you get to come across an object or an artifact [that] represents something important to you,” says Sherman. 

“I think whenever I get to show someone a piece from the collection, and they have that moment and I get to share in that, I think that's really special.”

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.

Bringing Brazil to Toronto: An interview with the writer-director and star of Toll #TIFF23

Carolina Marcowicz shines at TIFF once again. Now in her sixth run in the festival, the up-and-coming Brazilian director premieres her second feature film, Toll. 

By: Mariana Schuetze

In Carolina Markowicz's latest feature film, Toll ('Pedágio'), audiences take a peak into the life of a toll booth worker in Cubatão, an industrial city near São Paulo, Brazil. Suellen (Maeve Jenkins) raises her son, Tiquinho (Kauan Alvarenga), alone and finds herself in a complicated situation as she tries to deal with the fact that her son is gay. 

Both Jenkins and Alvarenga have worked with Markowicz before. Jenkins in her debut feature, Charcoal ('Carvão'), which premiered at TIFF in 2022, and Alvarenga in one of her shorts, The Orphan ('O Órfão') (2018). 

The pair playing mother and son give award-worthy performances in Toll, doing justice to the stories of many in similar situations. Their performances assist in Markowicz's brilliant telling of the story of a mother who loves her son so much and yet doesn't understand his experience. In the film, she goes to previously unthinkable lengths to protect him in the best way she can, even if it hurts him. 

Toll, at times flirting with the absurd and satirical, brings to the big screen the lived experience of many in conservative countries such as Brazil. At one point in the story, and without giving too much away, Tiquinho is sent to conversation therapy. In those scenes, Toll establishes itself as a dramedy, with moments that will make you laugh at just how absurd it is but at the same time may disturb you to the core. 

Markowicz and the entire Toll cast and crew masterfully weave together this beautiful, yet at times, comical story without losing sight of where it's set. Brazil is an incredibly unequal country, and this absurdity is not too far away from reality. CanCulture had the opportunity to interview writer and director Carolina Markowicz and leading star Maeve Jenkins. In the interview, they discuss how the rhetoric of Brazil's last president, Jair Bolsonaro, against the queer community influenced Suellen and Tiquinho's story. 

Our Editor-in-Chief, Mariana Schuetze, is Brazilian and conducted the interview in Brazilian Portuguese and translated it into English for the CanCulture audience. You can read the Portuguese transcription here. 

Mariana Schuetze: And how is it going? This is your second time here at TIFF, right?

Maeve Jenkins: Second time at TIFF, yeah. We had our first time here with Charcoal last year. And now with Toll.

Mariana: How cool. I was thrilled to be able to talk to you. It's really cool to see Brazil out there, putting on a show. You may have already answered this several times, but as a Brazilian, I have to ask: what is it like to be here again, bringing Brazil to Toronto and the world once again?

Carolina Marcowicz: Well, I love it here. I love this festival. This festival is incredible; besides being a festival of great importance, it also has an incredible audience. That it is wonderful, that reacts, that accompanies us. So, the Toronto festival, it's amazing here… in every way. Sometimes it's just in a professional sense, there's the importance of the festival's prestige and things like that. But beyond that, also having this [response] from the people who are watching the film here, it is very incredible. Just yesterday, at the premiere, in the Q&A, there were people asking about Charcoal. They had come to see the film last year! So this is very interesting, the force of the Canadian audience here in Toronto.

I'm here for the sixth time, I've already been here a few times. I love it here, the festival has always supported me a lot. Starting with my second short film, which was shown here. I was doing an interview for TIFF just now, and I said that was the first year they opened for International Shorts, in 2014, which was the year my animated short was shown here. After that year, I had two more short films, Long Distance Relationship (2017) and The Orphan (2018), and then Charcoal and Toll. And I was a part of the Filmmakers' Lab in 2015. So, I've been here a few times, and each time has been very incredible. 

Mariana: That's amazing! I think that for us Brazilians, this interacting audience makes all the difference. It must be really incredible.

Maeve: I feel like the festival has this audience-building thing too. Many years of the festival, and I imagine that the volunteers and the integration of audiovisual students and young directors are forming a generation of cinephiles. And you feel it in the audience, in those who attend the films, in how they respond to film, how they follow the directors, the actors. There is a passion for cinema that you can feel at the festival. It's really cool.

Mariana: What is it like bringing this specific story here? I feel like a lot of times when we talk about queer stories in cinema, most of what we see is North American. So, for me, it's really very special to see and hear these stories in Brazil and in Portuguese. What was it like for you to tell this story? What do you hope people here, in particular, take away from the film? Is it different from what you hope audiences in Brazil will take away from the film?

Carolina: What I would like people to take away from the film converges everywhere. But [in] Brazil, being a more conservative country, I think it's important for people to see this. Perhaps it portrays a more Brazilian reality. But here, in this case, it is supposed to be a window into that reality. Without wanting to spoil anything, but what happens in the [conversion therapy] program may seem absurd, there is this dramatic part of the film, which is, well, bizarre and at times comical and seems surreal. But it is not. In Brazil, it is not. But here, being a much less conservative country, with politicians who speak much less nonsense than we hear there, it might be more absurd. There are two sides to this, showing what happens there [in Brazil], portraying these people and making them see themselves in this satirical criticism that we see in the film. But I think the film's message is one of acceptance and tolerance without romanticization. It's showing who these people are and that they won't change and that everyone will have to live together and understand each other.

Maeve: I think that this degree of approximation of the absurd is different for Brazil and Canada, considering the reality of the countries. Canada has a more progressive tradition in this sense, right? But at the end of the day, I think prejudice exists to different degrees all over the world, including here. Yesterday, at the end of the film, a couple of Canadian psychoanalysts, who looked to be in their 70s, came over very excited to greet us and said: "I have to say that I found the approach and development of these characters super intelligent and realistic." Look, we're talking about a language that flirts with the absurd but he said, "Super intelligent and realistic." The woman, it was a couple, and they were both psychoanalysts, she said: "This mother and this son are constantly in my office." They were very emotional. It was really incredible talking to them.

What I mean by all of this is that, to different degrees, this conflict exists worldwide. Unfortunately, it is worldwide. But in Brazil, it is evident. I'm very excited to show it in Brazil. Well, we filmed Toll during the Bolsonaro government, a guy who said he would rather have a dead son than a gay son, among various other offences and violence. Even today, in Brazil, this conflict is very present. Right now, last week, they are trying to foot a bill to annul same-sex marriage. So, we are still under attack. The super-conservative government was defeated at the polls, but we still live the echo of that ultra-conversational period. This is very alive. So obviously, this makes me very excited to share this story with the audience. And about expectations, I confess that whenever I make a film, I internalize themes, like we're talking about this, this and this. But many layers, this intuition, will only appear; you can only take ownership of it when you watch it collectively. When you discuss the film. When you debate the film. This only happens when the film is born, when it comes into conflict with the audience. And that's completely out of our control and that fascinates me. There are things, layers, that we will only discover by putting the film out into the world.

Kauan Alvarenga plays Tiquinho in Toll, directed by Carolina Marcowicz. (Courtesy of TIFF)

Mariana: And in relation to showing this film to different audiences, what care is needed to make a film like this? Did you take a certain amount of care when creating this film and wanting to show it to a foreign audience? As a Brazilian who lives here, I know the idea that people tend to have about Brazil, so I wanted to know if there is any idea behind the image that your film can give of our country when watched abroad.

Carolina: I think we don't want to stereotype or romanticize. There's a rawness to the film that I think is important to show. The important thing is to show things without exoticizing them. Without making people see this as if it were something from afar, as if there was some judgment here. The people are there, they live there. They live in this city, they have this financial situation. Some better, some worse. They figure things out. They live in a totally unequal society, which is Brazil. And you can't pretend that it isn't, and this generates a thousand other forms of violence. So, I think the important thing is that you treat your characters with respect and without exoticizing them. And without placing yourself in a place above, or in short, on the far side. As if you weren't part of it in that way. It's not about wanting to show it as if it were a case study. There has to be that care. It's a question of respect, a question of principle. It's a question of the film itself.

Maeve: Perfect. I agree with every word of what Carol said. And as an actress, what I try, which is always very risky, is to try to have a genuine interest in those people. In the worst and best of them. But having a genuine interest in understanding that and putting yourself in that place.

Mariana: Thank you so much for taking the time to talk to me. I don't want to keep you much longer. I was really very happy to have talked to you. I absolutely enjoyed the film, and I'm super excited to watch it again tonight in the audience.

Maeve: We'll be there tonight too! There will be a Q&A after the session!

Mariana: Oh! That's cool, I'm even more excited now. I've already invited my friend [John, one of CanCulture's Managing Editor]. I saw the film last night and told him he had to come with me again today to watch the film.

Caroline: Amazing!

Mariana: Well, thank you very much, and I hope you two have a great day!

Maeve: Thank you and see you later!

Carolina: Thank you!

CanCulture had a great time talking to Carolina Marcowicz and Maeve Jenkins about their experiences at TIFF and the creation of Toll. As a Brazilian, I can't wait for the film to come out in theatres so I can show it to my family there. 

TIFF Review: Clara – Manic Pixie Dream Girls IN SPACE

By: Ben Cohen

Grade: C

The typical penultimate chapter – right before the reboot – in many franchises and genres is the port over to outer space. It’s a desperate move, taken by someone working on a worn-out, assembly line plot structure. Think Jason X, Dracula 3000, Moonraker, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull and Angry Birds Space. Clara is to the manic pixie dream girl genre what all those aforementioned creations are to their respective canons: one last piddling set change before the curtain falls for good.   

The titular character is a globe trotting, rock collecting, spiritualist and painter who decides to take up astrophysics, despite not having any post-secondary education whatsoever, believing strongly that being a quick-learning, hard worker is all it takes.

Ostensibly homeless, she responds to a wanted ad for an unpaid research assistant position with Dr. Isaac Bruno, astronomer, divorcé and disgraced professor, by showing up at his home unannounced.

Bruno rebukes her, but she still makes it into his apartment, with reluctant permission, to get her dog a bowl of water. There, the ex-professor tells Clara, once again, that she is unqualified for the job. She responds by picking up a record from his vinyl collection and asking to play it just once before she goes. The duo then discovers their shared love for the work of Bob Dylan, specifically The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, his second studio album, and that somehow gives them enough common ground for Bruno to not only hire Clara as his assistant, but also let her and her dog move in with him.

From then on, Bruno and Clara spend the film having multiple, nearly identical, sophomoric conversations orbiting the spirituality vs science debate. The team prattle on about it in a manner only slightly more sophisticate than two teenagers in a state of blunt-induced philosophical rambling.

“People are scared of the unknown,” said science-man Bruno. “We basically know nothing, so we make things up, these bedtime stories.”

Clara counters deftly by remarking that Sir Isaac Newton was religious. This fact somehow pierces Bruno’s hull of skepticism and ends the scene.    

The film’s second act drags on in this manner, with Clara acing the pixie muse’s standard programming. She teaches her assigned brilliant broken man, Bruno, social and artistic skills and helps him get over the loss of his son, all the while searching for alien life with him through satellite imaging.

“Finding some other life form isn’t going to bring (our dead son) back,” said Bruno’s ex-wife, Rebecca.

“I know, but it’s all I have,” he responds.

Clara then mutilates the astronomer’s grief with a nice screed about how quantum entanglement and recycled atoms mean that his late son will always be with him.

The third act abandons the alien hunting plot until the climax. This forces us to spend time with our two watered-down cliché composite leads butting heads over intelligent design for the umpteenth time.

Clara finally coaxes Bruno into having some sort of cosmological vision with the help of one of her magic rocks. This ends up leading to the discovery of alien life right at the very end of the film, but not before the audience is treated to the line of the night:

“You spend all this time looking at stars, you’re going to miss what’s right in front of you.”

Goodness gracious.

Clara isn’t all awful. The score features exciting orchestral tunes and some classic Dylan yowls. The cinematography is at times breathtaking, specifically the views of the cosmos the audience is treated to during scene transitions. Shots around Toronto and in TTC are a warm reminder of the staunch Canadianity of film’s cast and crew. The ending is surprisingly satisfying, with first contact being made and Clara’s devout spiritualism being ratified. It’s just a shame this pleasing payoff took so long to arrive and was so brief.

TIFF 2018 Review: Edge of the Knife

By: Isabelle Kirkwood

Grade: A

Edge of the Knife is a 2018 Canadian drama film co-directed by Gwaai Edenshaw and Helen Haig-Brown. It is the first feature film spoken only in dialects of the Haida language. Set in 19th-century Haida Gwaii, it tells the classic Haida story of the traumatized and stranded man transformed to Gaagiixiid, the wildman.

Gwaii Edenshaw and Helen Haig-Brown’s Edge of the Knife (Haida: SG̲aawaay Ḵ'uuna) forges a new method of storytelling from a long since unheard corner of Canadian cinema. Set in the 19th century Haida Gwaii archipelago in the vividly rugged Pacific Northwest, the film centres around a small 19th century Haida community.

More pointedly, the film follows a narrative that draws parallels from a moral era akin to Crime and Punishment. The death of a local child drives our implicated protagonist, Adiits’ii, into torment and grief, as he absconds his people into the unforgiving wilderness. We follow his descent into madness as he is, in a sense, ‘swallowed whole’ by the wilderness that soon becomes his own hell.

The dramatic coastal landscape sits on what seems like the edge of the Earth. Vast temperate rainforest and rugged, inhospitable shoreline epitomize the brutal and violent forces of nature and guilt that possess the protagonist, transforming him into a feral pariah. 

Adiits'ii’s character begins as incredulously charming, but as he descends into insanity, his character becomes more convincing. After the death of Adiitsi’ii’s young nephew, the film’s pace changes dramatically – the rather measured pacing of the community’s scenes breaths a sense of calm into the film. But the film abruptly kicks into action, as we see our now untamed protagonist tearing through harsh wilderness, covered in his own blood.

The film’s rather lurid imagery was able to effectively shock and disgust. By the time Adiits’ii returns to his community, every inch of his body is etched by dirt and blood trails. Urchin needles are protruding from his lips. The wilderness has turned the initially charming nobleman into a beast.

The acting throughout this film is rather strained, with many communal scenes opening with forced and prolonged laughter. The dialogue, too, is hard to relish – tone is lost in the actors’ ostensibly modest grasp of the challenging Haida language. 

The film is the first to be scripted entirely in Haida. For this reason, it only seems to fair to cut the actors some slack for a seemingly rudimentary grasp of the dialect. Often times, tone is difficult to read, and dialogue is spoken with a trace of vacillation. I wish I could say this didn’t take away from the film, but it did.

 The sound design is overbearing and often hyperbolic – Foley which should be ambient resonates more obnoxiously than it does evocatively. However, the sound design’s true victory is in its use of score. The rich percussive beat is an unfortunate dramatic trope in modern cinema, but works impeccably in Edge of the Knife. The unnerving turtle rattles, the haunting water drum and the rich vocal hums and whirrs seem to conduct Adiits’ii through his decline into a dark and otherworldly possession, and his community into a spell of grief and despair, without taking audience from its setting. Despite some of the paranormal elements of the film, many of its elements allow the story to maintain its realism.

This is an Indigenous film with an Indigenous cast and crew. It masterfully revives tradition and lore that remains culturally and historically relevant to Indigenous peoples in Canada. The fundamental clash between man and nature are omnipresent, themes of the turmoil of grief and one’s delivery from it are central. In this film, we are offered a dark and unnerving chronicle, where Indigeneity is not offered as a prop, trope or sideshow. Indigeneity is the main act.

TIFF 2018 Review: Giant Little Ones

Grade: B-

By Julianna Perkins

Giant Little Ones, a new film from Canadian director Keith Behrman, successfully completed its world premiere at this year’s Toronto International Film Festival. 

Giant Little Ones is the latest from Behrman, who’s previous film Flower & Garnet won the 2002 Canadian Screen Award for Best First Feature. It’s clear the Saskatchewan native intends to keep strong performances coming. 

Right from the start, the film invites us to get lost in a close up of protagonist Franky’s soft and boyish face. We’re drawn in to observe his subtle freckles and cheeky smile – we watch as his hair tousles in the wind. There’s very little doubt about what you’re going to see; this is a coming-of-age movie. 

The next thing to hit you is the music. The entire film is excellently scored and incorporates upbeat, electronic compositions with deep bass into the most unlikely scenes. The sound alone is one of the biggest factors that keep Giant Little Ones from collapsing into melancholic mush.

The movie, filmed in Sault Ste. Marie, centres on Franky (Josh Wiggins), a 17-year-old boy whose family life becomes exceptionally complicated after his father (Kyle MacLachlan) comes out as gay and his parents separate. Franky is resentful and channels his frustration into swimming and by falling deeper into the arms of old friends and new girlfriends.

In true coming-of-age film fashion, on the night of his 17th birthday, Franky has a sexual encounter that immediately jeopardizes every close relationship he has. He’s thrown into the bowels of bullying, social isolation and tough conversations. But going against the stereotypical grain of most other coming-of-age films, Giant Little Ones delves deeper into the nuances of sexuality in the millennial age, toxic masculinity and the idea that sometimes being okay is the best you can hope for.

Wiggins’ performance, and indeed the performances of the entire cast, are truly the legs on which the film stands. Thanks to the depth and sincerity of the actor’s performances, Giant Little Ones avoids becoming a cheeseball teenage pity-fest and instead creates beautiful little moments in even the saddest circumstances. Genuine emotion is allowed to come through because the actors don’t over-act; their subtlety is their greatest strength.

The film would have been stronger, however, if the admirable acting hadn’t been cut down by subpar writing. Much of the dialogue, probably intended to provide comedic relief, ended up instead garnering a collective audience eye-roll. Such gems included the teenage classics “no, I’m totally into you,” “it never would’ve happened if we weren’t wasted” and my personal favourite, “my mom is ruining my life!” 

The messy writing translates further into a messy plot, as the movie somehow feels both fast-paced and slow burning, ultimately lacking focus. You’re never sure if the main theme was Franky’s bullying, Franky coming to terms with his identity, Franky learning he’s not the only person facing tough situations, or a combination of all three.

Throw in a queer-best-friend character that materializes out of nowhere and disappears just as quickly, and an irrelevant, completely comedically-gratuitous scene about three-quarters of the way in and you’re left wanting to take a red pen to the script to preserve its sensitivity.

Writing aside, Behrman’s directorial hand paints the screen in a constant palette of blues, which complement the film’s clean cinematography and soft focus. Our eyes are never bored and intention is translated repeatedly through visual action, sparing unnecessary dialogue. Visually, Giant Little Ones is an underrated success.

Even if the film is a mixed bag in the mechanical sense, Giant Little Ones’ intentions and acting put it a notch above any stereotypical coming-of-age movie. The characters are genuine, the storyline is complex and at its core, there is a complicated takeaway for everyone. You might just see a little bit of yourself in Franky’s matured gaze as the film fades out of one final close-up.

TIFF Review- My Days of Mercy

by Andrea Josic

The daughter (Ellen Page) of a man on death row falls in love with a woman (Kate Mara) on the opposing side of her family’s political cause. – TIFF Description

Grade: B-

With director Tali Shalom-Ezer’s first ever screening at the Toronto International Film Festival, My Days of Mercy explores two extremely different narratives as a romance between two women with polarizing beliefs develops in a tense political atmosphere.

The movie follows Lucy Morrow (Ellen Page), her older sister Martha (Amy Seimetz) and her younger brother Simon (Elias Koteas) travelling around the United States protesting capital punishment in front of prisons. Early on, interest sparks between Lucy and Mercy (Kate Mara) and complications arise as Mercy is revealed to be a capital punishment supporter. This problem deepens when the audience finds out that Lucy’s father will be given a lethal injection in four months for the charge of first-degree murder of their mother.

Despite Lucy being the laid back, witty and blunt character Page is well-known for playing, Page delivers a performance so visceral and believable that it feels as though she strives to slowly drag the audience into the undercurrent of the love between the two characters. Page’s ability to contribute a playful nature intensifies the dynamic of the romance and creates an interesting narrative proving opposites attract.

As usual, love prevails and the two characters navigate conflicting views and Lucy finds solace in the ability to confide in someone. Unfortunately, as strong as Page’s character is, Mara’s acting fundamentally lacks the life and dedication to make Mercy likeable. Mercy’s suggestive innuendos give her personality an edge that is initially enjoyable but as Mara incessantly plays on this trait it turns bland and she loses grip on her character.

Seimetz does an exceptional job embodying Martha, conscientiously stable throughout the movie under the growing pressure of her father’s situation, making it easy for her younger siblings to look to her for guidance. Martha shows her strength by endlessly scrambling for evidence that is going to be effective enough to get their father off of death row. As their father’s day of execution approaches, Lucy’s emotions give in to the grim circumstances and the aggressive, perverse side of her character is exposed. The differences in Martha and Lucy’s characters creates a complementary balance as we see the two attempting to shelter their younger brother from the cruel, unjust reality of losing family members.

The political narrative remains consistently captivating throughout the movie and dives just deep enough to scratch the surface of the controversial topic of capital punishment. The reality of this issue hits the audience through beautifully planned cinematography that shows each prisoner’s last meal followed by protests outside of the mentioned prison. Suspense throughout the movie builds perfectly through the use of the countdown clock appearing every so often shows how much time there is until the father is put to death.

Overall, the combination of a lesbian, Romeo-and-Juliet-style romance and the complexity behind the death penalty play slightly more on each other’s strengths than their weaknesses. Despite Page’s outstanding acting that triggers raw emotions in the audience, Mara’s below-average performance makes the romance seem awkward and forced at times.

As the political aspect of the plot develops and the feelings between Lucy and Mercy are established, the stories, although loosely, tie together. The combination of two very different narratives produces an original story that ultimately remains powerful and emotional while providing a glimpse into the many aspects of human nature that arise in times of struggle.

TIFF Review: “Eye on Juliet” - Love in the Age of Drones

By: Urbi Khan

Letter Grade: B

While piloting his robotic spider from the United States, a hexapod operator and pipeline guardian (Joe Cole) becomes fascinated by a Middle Eastern woman (Lina El –Arabi, it’s the latest from the Oscar-nominated filmmaker, Kim Nguyen. – TIFF description

We have all come to know that Big Brother may always be watching. However, he observes us for our own good, apparently. This is the proposition that the Quebec filmmaker, Kim Nguyen sets for his latest film, Eye on Juliet.

The film, starring Joe Cole (Peaky Blinders, Green Room) and Lina El-Arabi, explores a drone-assisted love story that breaks down cultural barricades and long distances. Eye on Juliet is set in an utopian world where technology has the ability to influence love.

This well-meaning, romantic story that circumstantially brings together two people together is a disappointment. Mainly because the so-called 'roundness' of the geopolitical landscape in this tale is extremely flat as Gordon (Cole), the hexapod operator is shown to be in suburban Detroit whereas Ayusha (El-Arabi) is shown to be only located in a town in the North African desert, her exact location is not identified.

The representation of the two characters’ location is uneven. Compared to Nguyen’s Oscar-nominated film, War Witch (2012), this film lacks representation of the diverse nature of Africa as it is very generalized in this film.

Eye on Juliet opens with a landscape seen in night-vision accompanied by low-frequency music. This sets the mood for the film that you are going off into an unknown world.

We first find Gordon, a handsome all-American man, in a night-club, where he is in the middle of a bad break up. On the verge of a mental breakdown, Gordon gets thrown out of the club. He goes home, sits in a corner and contemplates in a disheveled and empty room. We are introduced into the world of a character who is emotionally distraught and displaced. This is not unknown territory for anyone; it’s a cliché. The only point of solace in Gordon’s life is when he stumbles upon Ayusha in the North African desert through his hexapod, where he is guarding oil pipelines for the company he is working for.  

Ayusha’s storyline presents an inventively stylized Romeo-Juliet melodrama as she meets in secret with her boyfriend near the pipelines. Gordon interjects himself into her life as he has lost his own love. The Juliet-like character of Ayusha is arranged to be married to an older man by her parents; Gordon tries to resolve this through his hexapod all the way from the United States.

Despite all the stereotypical story material about a ‘third-world’ damsel-in-distress, who is essentially rescued by a white, male saviour, this film does have its enduring qualities.

When Gordon comes into contact with Ayusha for the first time, he speaks Arabic in a computerized, pre-set voice which is programmed to be “soothing” in sound. I find this to be reminiscent of Spike Jonze’s tech love story Her (2013), as human and a robot interact in a humanly, empathetic way.

Eye on Juliet could easily have been political as it centres around an white, American male and an African-Muslim female, but it is not and that is uplifting for the audience. However, it seems that this story is only an attempt at romance and is not fully realized as Gordon only helps Ayusha because he is lovelorn himself.

Another enduring quality of the film is its ability to bring in some elements of humour to an otherwise dramatic plot. The film  includes a blind, old man who appears only once. He apparently “sees” the world with wisdom and tells Gordon - through the hexapod - the true nature of love. Understandably, this is a Shakespearean allusion, alluding to the film’s title.

When Gordon questions the self-proclaimed expert on life, how you can know when you really love a woman the old man replies, “First you must embrace her, close. Close enough that you can smell her neck, smell her scent. And if you become engulfed by it - kiss her! Then the talking will ensue between you two. And if you didn’t like kissing her, than all talk ceases. After that, you must simply walk away.”

To this advice, Gordon chuckles.

Eye on Juliet is well-produced. The desert terrain and soundtrack creates an atmospheric experience as the sounds make it an impressive journey for the audience. When viewing this film, the audience can hear every trickle of water, the winds of the desert and see in vivid colour the environment that surrounds the characters.

Essentially, one leaves with the sense that this film is about a lovelorn, privileged saviour who is detached from his environment, until he finds an exotic cause to care about. The damsel-in-distress, Ayusha, alleviates the troubles of his mundane existence. In the end of the 90 minutes, the hero finds love and the heroine simply just accepts his love. Finally, Eye on Juliet leaves the audience with this message: Big Brother sees all and he protects. He is the saviour.

[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39r8FF94Iro[/embed]

A Brief History of TIFF

by Daniel McIntosh

September in Toronto brings three things: back-to-school traffic, colder morning weather and the Toronto International Film Festival, the city’s annual celebration of film culture. Anyone who has ever heard of TIFF knows it’s a breeding ground for Oscar nominees, future cult classics and emerging directors, but it wasn’t always as accepted for its merits. Look back through TIFF’s origin story to find out how the plucky festival became an industry powerhouse.

TIFF began in 1976 as the brainchild of co-founders Bill Marshall and Henk van der Kolk. The two film producers shared a vision of Toronto as a film hub, detached from Hollywood and American studios that dominated the industry.

In conversation with the National Post, Van der Kolk described how the idea for the festival first came to them.

 “All Bill and I wanted to make was feature films. Making a feature was a bit of an uphill battle in this country: you didn’t make feature films, you went to see American feature films," Van der Kolk said. "We needed to get noticed. How the hell do we get the world to realize we’re here, and how do we get a Canadian film industry? That’s why it started, really."

The pair, along with mutual friend Dusty Cohle, founded Toronto’s Festival of Festivals, showing films that were well-received in international circuits, in an effort to bring attention to Canada’s film scene.

The festival faced setbacks in its first year, with several Hollywood studios withdrawing their submissions, believing Canadian audiences would be too conservative for their content.

“The first year, we had a panel where the American distributors all said they would come, and they lied to us. So I put up directors’ chairs with the names of all the studio heads on them and went up and down and told them what shitheels they were,” Marshall said.

Nonetheless, the inaugural festival opened to 35 000 people, showing 140 films from 30 countries.

By the 1980s, the festival had gained notoriety in the international film community. In 1981, Chariots of Fire won the festival’s People’s Choice Award, providing fanfare that would contribute to it winning the Best Picture Oscar. The festival expanded from a simple community showing to a veritable predictor for future award seasons.

Hollywood began to take notice, and, seeing the burgeoning popularity of the festival, rethought their stance on attending the event. In 1982, Robert DeNiro and Robert Duvall made appearances during a Martin Scorsese retrospective, beginning the long tradition of celebrity sightings that TIFF has become synonymous with, and marking the first major involvement of Hollywood stars in the festival’s programming.

In 1994, the name of the festival was changed to the TIFF we know and love.

Today, TIFF continues to expand its presence in Toronto and the film world, with the 2007 construction of the Bell Lightbox—a theatre, research centre and museum dedicated to film culture.

The Lightbox, located on the north corner of King and John streets, features two gallery spaces and offers screenings, lectures and workshops for budding filmmakers, viewers and fans.

The Lightbox also contains archives, a film lab centre and houses the Film Reference Library, which provides access to a comprehensive collection of film prints, scripts, periodicals and press kits surrounding the festival and film culture at large.

Despite its rocky beginnings, TIFF has become an integral part of Toronto’s culture and an esteemed event for cinema lovers all around the world. Now after its 40th anniversary, and with its own headquarters for year-round events, it shows no sign of slowing down.

TIFF Red Carpet 2017: Trends and Fashion Highlights

The international spotlight shines brightly on Toronto when TIFF rolls through during the first few weeks of September. Many of the world’s biggest stars, such as Angelina Jolie, Jennifer Lawrence and Lady Gaga, grace the festival’s red carpet, radiating both style and glamour. The Trends

Autumn is certainly creeping its way into the air, but that did not stop actresses like Halle Berry, Rosamund Pike and Margot Robbie from rocking florals on the carpet. The Toronto International Film Festival occurs around the same time as New York Fashion Week and both events project the same trend: florals. The favoured trend was popularly worn with light, airy diaphanous fabric embellished with floral embroidery. The various displays of the trend made it clear that florals are not going anywhere anytime soon. Who says you can’t wear florals in the fall?

Lace was also very prominent among the celebrities’ red carpet looks. The fabric is fabulous for style flexibility. How it is worn and designed can either make the person look dainty and graceful or sexy and provocative. On the TIFF carpet, lace was used to embody both looks. Elle Fanning wore a stunning Alexander McQueen baby pink lace-corset dress that made her look ethereal. Meanwhile, Halle Berry and Jennifer Lawrence displayed diametrically opposing looks. Halle Berry wore a sexy plunging Zuhair Murad lace floral top and Jennifer Lawrence channeled a femme fatale persona with a tight black lace-corseted Dolce & Gabbana dress.

Fashion Highlights

TIFF had a lot of great fashion moments – from Lady Gaga shutting down King Street with a daring outfit to Angelina Jolie silencing everyone with a timeless white Givenchy two-piece set. Here are some TIFF’s red carpet fashion highlights.

Lady Gaga for the premiere of Gaga: Five Foot Two.

Margot Robbie in Erdem for the I, Tonya premiere.

Sebastian Stan in Hugo Boss for the I, Tonya premiere.

Drake in Prada for the premiere of The Carter Effect.

Elle Fanning in Alexander McQueen for the premiere of Mary Shelley.

Jennifer Lawrence in Dolce & Gabbana for the Mother! premiere.

Priyanka Chopra in Fendi for the Pahuna: The Little Visitors premiere.

Angelina Jolie in Givenchy for the premiere of The Breadwinner.

Brie Larson in Schiaparelli Couture for the Unicorn Store premiere.

Alicia Vikander in Louis Vuitton for the Euphoria premiere.

Rosamund Pike in Alexander McQueen for the Hostiles premiere.

Halle Berry in Zuhair Murad for the Kings premiere.

TIFF Review: "The Little Girl Who Was Too Fond of Matches"

By Julianna Perkins

Grade: B

Quebec director Simon Lavoie returned to the Toronto International Film Festival this year with a perverse gothic drama sure to stir conversation among the film crowd.

The Little Girl Who Was Too Fond of Matches, a French-language film subtitled in English, is Lavoie’s latest work, loosely adapted from Quebec author Gaétan Soucy’s French novel of the same name.

The film, which has a rating of 18A, centers on the disturbing life of the Soissons, a family of three living in almost absolute isolation in 1930's Quebec.

The father, played by Jean-François Casabonne, is a drunkard prone to Carrie-esque fits of religious fanaticism who oppresses the household with a ramshackle paranoia that pervades every aspect of life. His children, played by Antoine L’Écuyer and Marine Johnson, are conditioned to fear and distrust any element of the outside world and are taught that their father formed them from clay.

The Little Girl Who Was Too Fond of Matches lands its contorted focus on the young female child, Alice (Johnson), documenting her twisted upbringing at the hands of abusers, watching as she is forced to cut her hair and bind her chest, addressed only as “Brother” and “Son.” We follow along as one perverted disaster after another warps her youth, underscoring the film with the sense that femininity must equal pain.

This is not an easy film, nor is it a remotely pleasant film.

And yet somehow you stay magnetically attracted to the screen, observing incest, rape, torture, abuse, deformity, suicide and count after count of violence with the understanding that the inclusion of these acts is not gratuitous. This isn’t a jump-scare horror movie; instead, it brings up everything that you know is wrong and makes you sit in, consider it, and explore it, to the point that you almost feel disturbed.

Lavoie, who described the film as a “poetic period drama,” admitted that The Little Girl Who Was Too Fond of Matches was cinematographically influenced by the works of Pier Pasolini and a 1960's Czech film titled Spalovač Mrtvol or The Cremator. He said he wanted to create a “no compromises” film that stayed true to the “radical” nature of the original book by Soucy.

Filmed in black and white and woven through with tortured eroticism, The Little Girl Who Was Too Fond of Matches is visually both beautiful and raw. The lack of major dialogue allows the silence in the theatre to feel oppressive, broken only by moments of intense and orgasmic operatic symphony.

“Overwhelming” is the most apt word to describe The Little Girl Who Was Too Fond of Matches. Visually and emotionally, to watch this film is to sit wide-eyed in a room full of strangers that collectively exhale once the credits roll. It is 111 minutes of palpable disgust.

The Little Girl Who Was Too Fond of Matches is no one-off from Lavoie, whose previous film Those Who Make Revolution Halfway Only Dig Their Own Graves, co-directed with Mathieu Denis, won Best Canadian Feature at last year’s TIFF festival, also earning a spot in the 2017 Canada’s Top Ten Film Festival.

The Little Girl Who Was Too Fond of Matches and its forceful acting worms its way into your memory in a way I feel few “scary” movies have had the power to do. Its intensity andconsistent use of close-ups will leave Johnson’s panicked eyes burned into your mind long after you step out of the theatre.

[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4rcH8cJ-PGo[/embed]

TIFF Review: "Black Cop" - A Morality Play Wrapped in Satire

by Ben Cohen

A Black police officer (Ronnie Rowe Jr.) seeks revenge after being egregiously profiled and assaulted by his colleagues, in this searing political satire by actor-director Cory Bowles (Trailer Park Boys). -TIFF description

Grade: A

William Faulkner once said that the only thing worth writing about is the human heart in conflict with itself. Cory Bowles, known for his role as Cory in Trailer Park Boys, has written and directed just that: a raucous, stylish, vivid drama centred around a pariah in communities both blue and black, the titular Black Cop, who epitomizes internal conflict by virtue of his role in society.

Black Cop excels not just as a powerful political statement, but also technically, as a genuinely well-woven piece of cinema. The soundtrack is evocative, puissant and fresh. The score makes ironic use of minstrel songs, features “black spiritual death metal” (as Bowles referred to it after the show) and tempestuous, lyrical hip hop. One jarring scene in particular thunders with excellent musical pairing, wherein cacophonous jazz batters our brains into a state of alarm, tuning us into the main character’s frantic emotional state.

The cinematography, though occasionally borrowing techniques from other films (Bronson, 2008, in particular during recurring, creatively lit fourth-wall breaking asides), is intelligent, inspired and raw. The audience is exposed to police brutality in the film in the same manner as we are in real life, as the camera shifts from dashcam to body camera to smartphone recording during these troubling scenes. Though Black Cop was shot in only 12 days, one would never hazard to guess that.

Ronnie Rowe Jr. delivers a magnetic performance as the Black Cop. “Every moment [Rowe was] on camera, he moved me,” said Bowles in his introduction to the film at the Tuesday night premier – a statement I nearly agree with. Though I admire the skill with which Rowe navigated the emotional depths and complexities of his character, I couldn’t help but feel that his delivery of some of the more humorous bits of dialogue warranted a few more takes.

Politically, Black Cop occupies a space so relevant and contentious and finishes – after quickly doing away with the first act’s faux-passivity – with such vibrant, furious and unapologetic moral certitude that it seems almost fated to exist, like the word of God blaring across a silver screen, commanding everyone in attendance to champion the importance of black lives and to acknowledge the undeniable systematic oppression they face. In the end, Black Cop is an allegory carved from the same marble as Everyman. The lesson is that, in these divided times, to ignore is to encourage, to deny aid is to abet and that racial profiling and police violence can’t just be wished away.

[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4RiOirLKtQM[/embed]