I just got back from TIFF, what an exciting time. It’s hard not to get excited with all the people around, all coming together for the love of one art form. We had the chance to have prime views of Ed Harris and Jennifer Connoly (I managed to accidentally mosey into the press pit and play the part well enough to fool the volunteers) but thought better of hanging around, and continued on our way to our train home.
The highlight for me of course, seeing Denis Cote again (he’s a wonderfully warm person), and grab me a bit of TIFF viewing that doesn’t make the front pages of papers, but touches you the way good art should.
First of all, its subtitled. haha… you’d think it was foreign, but no, it was shot in my home province, Quebec. Denis’ particular brand of cinematography and talent for capturing the natural in its element allowed me and my guest to experience the subtleties that make this province so particular… Nothing wrong with it, it’s just… special.
I won’t get into too much of the plot, but Denis succinctly describes this film as a perspective on how we connect, or rather, how we don’t. An interesting contemplation. Denis’ usual realist style dominates the film, although sometimes he is so frank, we are disbelieving. The silence contained in his movies, I have always found, create a vacuous space where the audience can now experience emotions spontaneously, as opposed to being commanded by the filmmaker. Seeing a Cote film is a choice, but one well worth making.
As usual, and this is my third time around now, I found this piece touching on a personal level. I don’t really KNOW Denis Cote, but somehow, I get the sense that he knows me, and I like that in a filmmaker. Someone who can give me an experience I never could have imagined having myself. Like he said of his cast at the Q&A, when asked how he got their performances (for the female lead a best actress at Locarno, and this is her first professional endeavor). They just trusted him.
In alot of senses it reminded me of Shallow Grave, a film which firmly embodies the british Film Noir. This one does a similar thing for Quebec. It has a distinct Quebecois flavor, which I adored since I miss home so much. It’s been ages since I’ve heard the joual from back home, and even longer since I’ve heard the sound of snow boots crunching on snow. It showed us the depths of the abyss without making it scary, just… intriguing.
So you’re not faced with insanity head on, but gently lulled into the sense of it, and comforted by the familiarity of the realization.