Photo by Brendan Lynch, used under Creative Commons license

“Life has a gap in it… It just does. You don’t go crazy trying to fill it.”

After the unpleasant taste The Master left in our mouths, it was nice to move on to a wonderful piece of work like Take This Waltz (imdb | rotten tomatoes). Sarah Polley really needs to direct more…we could do with films such as this and Away From Her more often than every five years.

Michelle Williams and Seth Rogen and Luke Kirby were all good, but the real surprise was Sarah Silverman. It was a small part, but damn, it was a great one and she nailed it. The other star of the film: Toronto. I’ve never wanted to live in the city I live in so much as when I watched this film. It even makes me want to visit hipsterville Queen West.

See it.


Photo by Brendan Lynch, used under Creative Commons license

"Yuens, you guys are my infantry. One of you dies, God gave me another one."

Last night I recovered from my long movie-watching drought (I watched a single new movie in the month of February: Couples Retreat, which we shall never mention again) with a couple of dark ones.

I’m glad I didn’t go in to Observe And Report (imdb | rotten tomatoes) thinking it was a typically goofy Seth Rogen vehicle. That shit was dark. Bizarre, awkwardly funny and, uh…yeah, dark. I can’t quite figure out if it was terrible or brilliant, but Jody Hill is quickly creating a signature style. Like a funny car crash. With dicks.

Polytechnique (imdb | rotten tomatoes) was a whole other kind of dark. It could hardly be otherwise, given the subject matter, I suppose. There could be nothing pleasant about that film, but it was at least pleasing, if I can use that word, to see how well the story was handled. I was on edge the entire 77 minutes. The black and white cinematography served as a reminder for the binary world Marc Lepine saw, and as a stark companion to his cold attack. The film portrayed that well, as it probably actually happened, instead of applying dramatic flourishes signaling the coming violence. There was no swelling music, no artistic preamble. There were no rousing speeches or heroic stands. There was just shock, shooting and aftermath.