Interview: Macey Chipping on 'Mystic'

May 14, 2021

The fictional town of Kauri Point is home to a tight-knit community of people. Shot on location in New Zealand, this small town has a tranquil way of life and a strong sense of togetherness set against a beautiful landscape. But there is more to Kauri Point than meets the eye, and in a town where everyone knows everyone, news travels fast. There’s something incessantly appealing about stories set in small towns. When done well, the intimacy of getting to know a lot of characters and spending time in a place that becomes familiar can become a comfort. Such is the case in Mystic. Filled with adventure, mystery, and resonating universal messages, Mystic is a comforting new family friendly series that people of all ages can engage with.

Based on bestselling author Stacy Gregg’s Pony Club Secrets book series, Mystic incorporates multiple genres and speaks to many meaningful themes, from environmentalism to friendship. At the core is a young girl on a spiritual journey of self-discovery. When 14-year-old British girl Issie Brown (Macey Chipping) moves to her mother’s remote hometown in New Zealand following the death of her father, she feels out of place and missing her friends from London. Living with her mom and activist grandmother, Issie befriends members of a local youth equestrian club, and things get strange. With the appearance of Mystic, a spirit horse only Issie can see, she soon uncovers secrets about a mysterious group of horses connected to environmental turmoil.

In this interview, actress Macey Chipping speaks about her role, what drew her to the series, her experience working with horses, and more!

Nadia: Mystic excels at incorporating multiple genres and speaks to many meaningful themes, from environmentalism to friendship. There are universal topics that I think people of all generations can relate to. Was there a specific element about the story that you felt most drawn to?

Macey: I think Issie's storyline about her dad's death drew me in the most. I loved filming it - especially with Laura Patch who plays Amanda, Issie's mum. I think I was drawn to it because Issie never coped with her father's death and that was why she acted the way she did. There’s a scene when she opens up to Amanda and they have that conversation and it was such a huge part of Issie's journey and a real turning point in the relationship between Issie and her mum. Also, as an actor, it’s so great to have deeper and more meaningful scenes because you have to access a lot of emotion and I find that really exciting - there are only so many times a character has a moment like that!

Nadia: Your character, Issie, leads a series in which self-discovery and speaking up on important issues play a large role. You did such a wonderful job portraying her strong-willed personality and her fight for truthfulness, which drive the storyline well. How did you find Issie's voice?

Macey: I love playing Issie because of how headstrong she is and how much she fights for what she believes in. As a girl, I think it’s really important to have that to show the younger viewers that girls are strong that can do the same things as boys and stand up to anyone who’s doing wrong.
 
Nadia: Were you familiar with Stacy Gregg's Pony Club Secrets book series before Mystic came your way? Did the books become a big resource for you in preparation for filming?

Macey: I actually hadn’t read it before I auditioned and only read the first book in the series when I got a call back audition. I knew the series was going to be an adaptation of the book and therefore it’d be dramatised and changed in certain aspects so I didn’t want to drill the storyline of the book and how the characters are in my head too much, but I thought it was a great book - I really enjoyed reading it.
 
Nadia: The fictional town of Kauri Point is home to a tight-knit community of people where everyone knows everyone. There's a strong sense of togetherness, especially among the young equestrian club members. Could you speak to working with the incredibly talented ensemble of actors?

Macey: Of course - I honestly have met friends for life on this job. Every single cast member is incredible and they welcomed me in so quickly which was so lovely. We are all so close and support each other and try to uplift each other if anyone needs it. I’m honestly so grateful for the opportunity I’ve been given because if I didn’t get the job I wouldn’t have met these amazing people!

Nadia: We see Issie as a gifted horse rider with raw talent; she connects with horses on a spiritual level. I love that this connection feels embraced in the series, and is considered a gift rather than an oddity. Could you speak to your experience working so closely with the horses?

Macey: Working with horses has been amazing. Learning how to ride, learning about them and forming a bond with your horse has been amazing and a feeling like no other. It obviously makes things a little harder as they are animals and have their own cheeky personalities, but all-in-all they are so well behaved while they're on set with loads of people, cameras in their faces and screens being walked in or held over them. Also seeing and learning about how the horse wranglers train them has been so interesting.

Nadia: I binge-watched the series and already can't wait for more seasons. What excites you most about the idea of returning to your character and to the Mystic world?

Macey: The main thing that excites me is returning to New Zealand and seeing everyone again! But I also want to see how Issie's journey develops - the relationships she's formed with the young riders and Blaze and... possibly any trouble that comes her way...

Mystic premieres Sunday, May 16 at 8pm ET on Super Channel Heart & Home.

Super Channel is available via most Canadian cable providers as well as available live and On Demand via Amazon Video Channels and the Apple TV app. Visit https://www.superchannel.ca/subscribe for more information.

‘Mystic’ Review

May 14, 2021

The fictional town of Kauri Point is home to a tight-knit community of people. Shot on location in New Zealand, this small town has a tranquil way of life and a strong sense of togetherness set against a beautiful landscape. But there is more to Kauri Point than meets the eye, and in a town where everyone knows everyone, news travels fast. There’s something incessantly appealing about stories set in small towns. When done well, the intimacy of getting to know a lot of characters and spending time in a place that becomes familiar can become a comfort. As well, when everyone knows each other on a first name basis, the potentiality for secrets to reverberate is high. In HBO’s prestige crime drama Mare of Easttown, the consequences of crime in a small town have a devastating ripple effect on the residents. Where the show excels is in getting to know multiple characters and all the hidden drama behind them, starting with Kate Winslet’s Mare as her whole world falls out from beneath her.

Beyond this and the many crime detective shows that utilize a similar setting, fueling the appeal of small town stories is how they bend to various genres and scenarios. Canadian hit show Schitt’s Creek sees a rich family suddenly lose everything, and with no other option, they move into a small town in the middle of nowhere. Part of the hilarity (and sincerity) is watching the Rose family interact with the residents like fish out of water, and then form close bonds as a result of getting to know them. Both shows utilize small communities well, and there’s room for another to watch in the family friendly series Mystic.

Mystic is based on bestselling author Stacy Gregg’s Pony Club Secrets book series and executive produced by Brian Bird, co-creator of the popular Canadian-American drama series When Calls the Heart. Mystic incorporates multiple genres and speaks to many meaningful themes, from environmentalism to friendship. At the core is a young girl on a spiritual journey of self-discovery. When 14-year-old British girl Issie Brown (Macey Chipping) moves to her mother’s remote hometown in New Zealand following the death of her father, she feels out of place and missing her friends from London. She begrudgingly finds herself in Kauri Point, which appears to be an ordinary community where horse riding is the popular activity. Living with her mom and activist grandmother, Issie befriends members of a local youth equestrian club, and things get strange. With the appearance of Mystic, a spirit horse only Issie can see, she soon uncovers secrets about a mysterious group of horses connected to environmental turmoil. An industrial development threatens to destroy their community and landscape. Issie, along with her (real) horse Blaze, and the club must find a way to save Kauri Point from disaster.

Issie is a wonderful protagonist for the series as she fights for the truth at all costs. When faced with a challenge, whether it be friendship drama, trouble riding a horse, or threats from a multi-billion dollar company, she maintains her stance and moves with the intention to learn. The move to Kauri Point has put a strain on Issie’s relationship with her mom Amanda (Laura Patch), as leaving London feels like leaving behind memories of her late father. Issie has a tendency to go rogue, while her mom has a steady rulebook approach. The two naturally butt heads, and with Issie’s grandmother Mitch (Cathy Downes) in the picture, 3 generations of women in one household brings a lot of texture to the story. Their often quick-witted conversations create some charming and humorous moments among the more sprawling themes like environmental concerns and spiritual bonding. Macey Chipping is up to the task and does a wonderful job portraying her character’s strong-willed personality. Given how much of the story hinges on discovering truths and unmasking corporate greed, Issie is a great character to go on this adventure with as she pushes for transparency. Chipping also shows a wonderful balance of Issie feeling out of her element yet also wanting to belong, and slowly discovering her potential with the support of her new friends.

Mystic is set against the beautiful backdrop of New Zealand, naturally making each and every frame a picturesque one. The cinematography by Dave Cameron and Drew Sturge give this series an ethereal lens. They capture a secluded pocket of the world that has ancient untouched land, which further drives home the importance of environmental protection. The ethereal quality also fits very well with the spiritual nature of the story. While some shots of the mystic horse and Issie’s visions are a little cheesy-looking, they evoke a magical setting that is consistent throughout the series. Mystic covers universal topics that people of all generations can relate to and feel strongly about. Environmental stability in particular is of course an ongoing worldwide discussion, and its exploration feels like a natural part of the series. The story shines a light on the importance of educating yourself on such concerns and using your voice to make a difference. While some lines feel thrown in for the purpose of sharing a statistic, there’s a lot to be said for how the series brings attention to a younger generation. A cast of mostly teenagers band together to take down Hexronn, a multi national company threatening to trample over Kauri Point and clear an ancient forest to build a plastic bottling plant. Hexronn divides people of the town, as many applaud them for creating jobs and sponsoring local sports teams, not batting an eye at the environmental cost. It’s up to Issie and her friends to make a change, which mirrors much of today’s reality where more youth are speaking up against corrupt measures.

A strong sense of community also plays a strong role throughout, particularly among the equestrian club. While Issie’s actions drive much of the plot, Mystic dedicates time and patience to fleshing out a lot of the young characters. Their shared storylines result in some heartfelt dynamics and touch on the importance of inclusivity. There is great representation of LGBTQ acceptance with the character of Caleb (Joshua Tan) and his experience coming out to his friends. As well, the focus on Issie’s relationship with her mom brings more depth to Issie’s past, and how she’s been dealing with a lot of regret and sadness about her father. The series sees a catharsis for this character and an extra insight into why she developed such a strong connection to her horse, the only one she feels truly understood by.

Issie has multiple visions about wild horses throughout, each one leading her closer to uncovering the secrets buried in Kauri Point. Viewers can discover clues to the mystery along with her, which makes for an entertaining journey of awaiting how she’ll decide to take action after each vision. The series does have a tendency to overtly explain all that’s going on, which turns out to be Mystic’s biggest weakness. Some of the writing feels stilted as the series takes a literal approach, which often knocks the wind out of its sails. Moments of heightened drama and mystery lack the tension to fuel elements mysterious elements, of which there are many. Given the strong visual storytelling and how often visions play a part in revealing clues, the series doesn’t fully take advantage of this opportunity to show rather than tell. Thankfully, the wit and enthusiasm of an incredibly talented cast help elevate the material into a charming experience.

Mystic is not simply a story about horses for horse enthusiasts. The series touches on an abundance of meaningful themes, and maintains its core focus as a journey of self-discovery. There are interesting parallels drawn between Issie’s spiritual bond with horses and the spiritual bond she has with herself. The series has strong portrayals of friendship, family dynamics, environmental activism, and the notion that the younger generation will be the ones to implement change. With each episode of this 13-part series, the message of protecting our planet from greed and harm reverberates stronger. Filled with adventure, mystery, and resonating universal messages, Mystic is a comforting story that people of all ages can engage with.

Mystic premieres Sunday, May 16 at 8pm ET on Super Channel Heart & Home.

Super Channel is available via most Canadian cable providers as well as available live and On Demand via Amazon Video Channels and the Apple TV app. Visit https://www.superchannel.ca/subscribe for more information.

Interview: Vanessa Matsui on 'Ghost BFF’

May 15, 2021

Now more than ever, mental health is important to prioritize and discuss openly. Everyone has a different experience, and sometimes it can feel overwhelming to reach out for help. Some of the most comforting words to hear are that you are not alone. The arts are important as a reflection of reality you can draw on to better understand your emotions and to know that others might feel a similar way. One of the greatest on-screen portrayals of mental health is Ghost BFF, a dark comedy web series that follows two best friends (one alive, one dead) as they struggle to find themselves and right past wrongs following a suicide. Amy (played by Vanessa Matsui) has developed anxiety after the loss of her best friend Tara (played by Kaniehtiio Horn). Suddenly, Tara returns from the dead as a ghost with unfinished business. Tara’s presence brings Amy to question who she is and where her life is headed. Best friends literally forever. 

I completely fell in love with Ghost BFF. As someone who can relate to topics discussed in the series, I find myself often going back to rewatch episodes. There’s a comforting openness to it that draws me in, and makes me feel less alone. This wonderful women-led series shines a light on mental health and tackles heavy subject matter within a comedic framework, while remaining totally grounded. Topics such as depression, anxiety, suicide, treatment, abortion, and mindfulness are addressed in a way that feels accessible and empathetic. As well, the series is a wonderful example of diverse and inclusive representation in Canadian entertainment both in front of and behind the camera.

Ghost BFF is directed by Lindsay MacKay (Running with Violet) and produced by Katie Nolan and Lindsay Tapscott of Babe Nation (The Rest of Us, upcoming feature Alice, Darling). The series stars creator Vanessa Matsui (Grand Army, The Handmaid's Tale, Shadowhunters) and Kaniehtiio Horn (Letterkenny, Barkskins, Sugar Daddy). Both are nominated for Best Lead Performance in a Web Program or Series at the upcoming Canadian Screen Awards (CSAs). The series has four total acting nominations, including two for co-stars Jean Yoon (Kim’s Convenience) and Angela Asher (18 to Life, Hard Rock Medical).

I had the opportunity to chat with Vanessa Matsui, who does fantastic work bringing this series to life. Vanessa discussed the inception of creating and writing Ghost BFF,, and how the series tackles heavy subjects. She also talks about the importance of prioritizing mental health, inclusive representation in the industry, her upcoming directorial feature debut, and more. Check out my interview with Vanessa below.

Nadia: Thank you for taking the time to chat with me. Thank you for creating this series. It’s funny, intelligent, unlike anything I’ve seen, and tackles tough issues in an interesting way. The series has four acting nominations at this year’s Canadian Screen Awards, including one for your performance as Amy. How does it feel to be nominated in this category for this role?

Vanessa: It feels great! I’m really proud of this show, not only the work that I did...I think it means so much that these four women were nominated for acting. I love actresses. My best friends are actors and actresses. It’s always been my dream to create really great roles for us, so I’m beyond thrilled. It means a lot to be recognized by your peers.

Nadia: Your performance is wonderful. I love how the series looks at Amy’s day-to-day life, and how her grief and anxiety manifest in different ways. For example, Amy forgetting plans from time to time, which made me think about how depression and anxiety can affect one’s memory. She’s such a resonating character. Could you talk about how you found Amy’s voice and how that character came about?

Vanessa: I mean, Amy, I knew I was going to be playing her. She came quite naturally to me. She was actually the easiest character to write, just because even though it’s not me, I obviously know my own voice (laughing). She’s a little based on my own personal experience with my friends who have suffered from depression, and some of which are suicide survivors. Amy came quite naturally. Especially now that all of us are, fingers crossed, knock on wood, coming out of this period of COVID. I think a lot of people can probably relate to issues with mental health and may be suffering from depression in a way they haven’t before. I’ll even hear people say, COVID brain, when they forget something. That’s a part of when you’re suffering. There are small things that your brain can’t process because it’s processing all these other things, and it’s kind of in survival mode instead of thrive mode.

Nadia: The series shines a light on mental health in a way that feels accessible, empathetic, and relatable to watch. It’s important for people to feel they can talk about topics like depression, anxiety, and suicide without shame or judgment. Could you talk about the importance of prioritizing mental health and what inspired you to create a series where mental health is at the forefront?

Vanessa: The inception of the idea came about when I was staying with one of my best friends. She was suicidal, and she's thriving now. To remind people suicide really is a permanent solution to a temporary problem, and I’ve watched people come through the other side. It’s so inspiring and I’m so happy. The original inspiration came about from that time being with her, and at the same time, I had another friend who died from suicide. This was probably eight or nine years ago now. I was looking around…there’s a lot of young women suffering and nobody is talking about this. So...I had the idea to create a comedy about it, but I am being respectful because I think that comedy is a really wonderful bridge when you’re talking about heavy subjects. Especially a topic like suicide which is so heavy.

My background is in improv, but also, comedy is a great tool to talk about difficult things. Also, when I was staying with my friend, all she wanted to do was watch The Mindy Project. I was like, "Yes! Exactly (laughing)!" You want to watch something that’s going to make you laugh. That was ultimately what I wanted to do. I wanted people to watch the show, and if you happen to be suffering or know somebody who is suffering, the show will leave you feeling a little less alone and hopefully make you laugh.

Nadia: One of the elements I love about the series is there are great discussions and great roles for women at the center of it. There’s been a seismic change in the film and television industry, particularly in the last three to four years with the movements that have emerged. Ghost BFF is a great example of representation in Canadian entertainment that is diverse and inclusive. Could you talk about the importance of accurate representation for women of colour in this industry, and changes you’ve noticed in Canadian content over the years?

Vanessa: For sure, part of why I wanted to make this show was because nobody was casting me. I was an actor before I was a writer, and I just got sick of it. Nobody was seeing me in a leading role, and I thought that the only way the industry would ever see me as a lead is if I just made it myself and put myself in that part. I’ve known Kaniehtiio (Horn) for a long time, we go back to Montreal days, and she’s such a muse and inspiration. It felt like a very perfect, natural fit to cast her that way. Also sometimes, although we’re both mixed race, the show isn’t about being mixed race. We are women living in Toronto, and these are the things that happen. We’re also just normal people (laughing).

And the other part of your question, women in the industry and how that has changed, part of what makes me proud about these four nominations is it’s four women nominated for one show. That’s huge! I don’t know if that’s ever happened before. Representation is so important, and female representation is so important, and I’ve noticed a seismic shift in the industry. I could tell you stories from what things were like in my early 20s, and what they are like now. One of the biggest shifts that I’ve seen, that has been actionable and positive, is this new position on set that’s been created called an intimacy coordinator. My first time working with an intimacy coordinator was on a show called Grand Army for Netflix, and I was like, “This is great”. It’s almost like, you know how we have stunt coordinators when you do a stunt, so it’s a specific person who’s been trained to help the director with a stunt scene so that nobody gets hurt. An intimacy coordinator does the same thing but for sex and nudity. I feel like so many bad situations that either I've been apart of on set, or that I've witnessed, would've just been eliminated because of this new position. So I think if anything that has come out of the Me Too movement, that is one of the most positive changes that I’ve seen.

Nadia: Absolutely. It’s important for women to feel they have a voice in this industry, and can speak up and speak out, and talk about their experiences.

Vanessa: Exactly. I mean I’ve always been very confident, even when I was young, I have no problem sticking up for myself. I would be screaming, asking people to stop, and nobody listened. Nobody cared. It was like I was nothing. It’s crazy how much things have changed, and I’m so glad for all these young women coming up in the industry now. It’s a very different place and I hope that continues.

Nadia: Speaking of more women in the industry, part of that is seeing more women behind the camera as well. I understand you’re about to direct your first feature film, Midnight at The Paradise.

Vanessa: Yeah! I’m slated to direct my first feature, I’m so excited. I was originally approached to be an actor in it, and the writer and I, he was also a really big fan of Ghost BFF. We found out he was also a really big fan of some of my earlier work with The Bitter End, which is my old improv group. He then saw some of my short films and said, “I actually think you’re the perfect person to direct this.” As first I was like, “No I’m not ready to do that” when I spoke with his executive producer, Paul Barkin. They really empowered me and I’m really excited about it. I do feel in this interesting way that could be a really great step in my career, and I’m excited. I’m starting to put the team together. [Liane Balaban] is one of my best friends and it’s so awesome to be able to direct her. We’ve collaborated many times in the past so it won’t be that new, but in this big of a capacity, it’ll be something challenging and exciting.

Nadia: I look forward to everything you’re doing next. In the meantime I will rewatch Ghost BFF. I really found it very special and comforting. I wanted to end by asking, is there any plan to revisit this story and these characters with another season?

Vanessa: There’s no current plan. My dream would be to somehow translate this to television, and get to make the TV version of what Ghost BFF is. That would be my dream.

Watch Seasons 1 and 2 of Ghost BFF here! 👻💕
Click here for a list of resources on mental health and to watch Let's Talk About Our Feels, a short educational video series where the Ghost BFF team talk about women's health in relation to mindfulness practices. 
The Canadian Screen Awards will be streaming live on academy.ca from May 17-20.

[Interview has been edited for clarity and length]

Interview: Kaniehtiio Horn on 'Ghost BFF’

May 15, 2021

Now more than ever, mental health is important to prioritize and discuss openly. Everyone has a different experience, and sometimes it can feel overwhelming to reach out for help. Some of the most comforting words to hear are that you are not alone. The arts are important as a reflection of reality you can draw on to better understand your emotions and to know that others might feel a similar way. One of the greatest on-screen portrayals of mental health is Ghost BFF, a dark comedy web series that follows two best friends (one alive, one dead) as they struggle to find themselves and right past wrongs following a suicide. Amy (played by Vanessa Matsui) has developed anxiety after the loss of her best friend Tara (played by Kaniehtiio Horn). Suddenly, Tara returns from the dead as a ghost with unfinished business. Tara’s presence brings Amy to question who she is and where her life is headed. Best friends literally forever.

I completely fell in love with Ghost BFF. As someone who can relate to topics discussed in the series, I find myself often going back to rewatch episodes. There’s a comforting openness to it that draws me in, and makes me feel less alone. This wonderful women-led series shines a light on mental health and tackles heavy subject matter within a comedic framework, while remaining totally grounded. Topics such as depression, anxiety, suicide, treatment, abortion, and mindfulness are addressed in a way that feels accessible and empathetic. As well, the series is a wonderful example of diverse and inclusive representation in Canadian entertainment both in front of and behind the camera.

Ghost BFF is directed by Lindsay MacKay (Running with Violet) and produced by Katie Nolan and Lindsay Tapscott of Babe Nation (The Rest of Us, upcoming feature Alice, Darling). The series stars creator Vanessa Matsui (Grand Army, The Handmaid's Tale, Shadowhunters) and Kaniehtiio Horn (Letterkenny, Barkskins, Sugar Daddy). Both are nominated for Best Lead Performance in a Web Program or Series at the upcoming Canadian Screen Awards (CSAs). The series has four total acting nominations, including two for co-stars Jean Yoon (Kim’s Convenience) and Angela Asher (18 to Life, Hard Rock Medical).

I had the opportunity to chat with Kaniehtiio Horn, who gives an incredibly funny and grounded performance as Tara. Kaniehtiio discussed what drew her to the series and working alongside close friend Vanessa. She also talks about the importance of prioritizing mental health, inclusive and accurate representation in the industry, her upcoming projects, and more. Check out my interview with Kaniehtiio below.
​
Nadia: Kaniehtiio, thank you for taking the time to chat with me. I want to start by saying I fell in love with Ghost BFF. It’s an incredible blend of comedy and drama that tackles tough issues in a fascinating way. Congratulations on the series, and on your Canadian Screen Award nomination. What does this nomination mean to you?

Kaniehtiio: I got to see the evolution of the project over nine years. I’ve known Vanessa (Matsui) since Montreal, fifteen to sixteen years ago...we’ve known each other since then. I remember her sending out emails and talking about this project that she was creating, and I was always cheering her on and hoping she got it made. I’ve watched her uphill battle to get it made, and then I got a chance to audition to become her on-screen BFF. So just to see the evolution of it and end up being a part of it is such an honour. It’s been inspirational to watch her succeed with this and all of the women involved are women my age. It’s all kinda good all over the place.

Nadia: Tara is such an interesting character and you play her so brilliantly, and with great comedic timing. I loved watching the journey that she goes on throughout the series. Could you talk about how you found Tara’s voice and what drew you to the role?

Kaniehtiio: First what drew me to the project was Vanessa, and knowing her. She’s hilarious. Then I think my biggest concern and biggest challenge was, first of all when you’re telling someone, “I’m in this comedy about suicide, it’s like, what?” I wanted to make sure that she was grounded and relatable, but still funny and making people laugh. I think that it was all in the writing anyway. It wasn’t that hard for me to get to that place. Working alongside Vanessa and finding those moments of realness made it easier. I didn’t feel like I was alone in this whole process of trying to keep this grounded, and something that isn’t making fun of very intense subject matter. And it’s fun to play supernatural beings. It’s kind of in my wheelhouse now (laughing). I played a witch. I played a ghost. I just played a deer lady. So it felt like a good fit.

Nadia: One of the elements I love about the series is that there are great roles for women and a strong portrayal of friendship at the center. There’s been such a seismic change in the film and television industry, particularly in the last few years with the movements that have emerged. Ghost BFF is a wonderful women-led project, and a great example of diverse and inclusive representation in Canadian entertainment. Could you talk about the importance of representation for women of colour in this industry and how you think things are progressing with accurate portrayals in Canadian content?

Kaniehtiio: Yes, I feel like I never know if it’s a short career or a long career...I’ve been doing this professionally for sixteen years, and it’s not the same industry as it was when I first entered the industry. Not that it’s like, “Oh wow, everything’s just changed for the better.” It’s slowly changed, and it’s still got a lot of ways to go. Vanessa had to create this [series] on her own, so that she could get cast as a lead because she wasn’t getting cast as a lead, because she’s a woman of colour. We’re being fed and told all of these same old stories, over and over again. We weren’t seeing ourselves, I wasn't seeing myself, being reflected back to us in the content that we consumed on Canadian television. I think there are more initiatives to get diverse stories told, especially in the past year. As an Indigenous woman I’ve gotten to play a few more leads, and people believe that I’m Indigenous now. In the beginning, it was because I’m light-skinned and light-haired, I was told that I wasn’t Indigenous looking enough by the industry. Because I wasn’t dark-skinned, with brown eyes, with long dark hair…these notions that the industry had of these boxes that we were placed in. Little by little, these boxes are expanding. It’s because of people like Vanessa who are breaking down these walls and creating projects. I think there’s definitely a change, and definitely a lot further we can go. I’m part of this MADE | NOUS Seek More Campaign to recommend and seek more diverse voices when consuming content on TV, film, and web series. Even in social media and the people that you follow, try to expand the voices that you are listening to.

Nadia: The series also shines an important light on mental health in a way that feels so accessible, hopeful, and empathetic. I love that each episode gives the characters a platform to express themselves, in any way that might be, and talks about issues without shame or judgment. Could you talk about the importance of prioritizing mental health, and what you hope this series contributes to the conversation?

Kaniehtiio: For me, even just being a part of the show, not even watching it but just having a chance to be a part of this project, made me a lot more confident to acknowledge my mental health issues. I hope that people who watch it don’t feel so alone, and feel it’s okay to talk about them. When I was in my mid to late-20s, I was convinced that by the time I’m 35, I would probably be committed once or twice by then, just because I thought I was nuts. Then being on a show like this and seeing, “Oh I’m not nuts, I just have some issues that I might need to talk to somebody about” made me feel stronger. I hope that people who watch this feel the same way and feel like they can reach out. I started going to therapy and realized, “Oh I can talk about this with somebody”. I’ve been going to therapy for maybe a year now and...I like love it (laughing). I like talking about my issues and then realizing at the end of the session, “Oh so I’m not nuts”. I understand where these things are coming from and I feel that knowledge is power. I feel more powerful now, and so I hope that any young person or older person, anybody who watches this, seeks some help if they need to. Or talk to somebody...look online and find the resources that are out there, because there are resources.

Nadia: I really wish I had found this series sooner, it’s very special and I love that it makes you feel, you’re not alone. Switching gears a little bit, I saw Wendy Morgan’s Sugar Daddy at this year’s Canadian Film Festival, which I loved. Another fantastic project that you were a part of. What are you working on next?

Kaniehtiio: I’m going back to Letterkenny, and I just guest starred on a show in the States, it’s called Reservation Dogs. I’m also working on turning my podcast [Coffee With My Ma] into an animated series. What else am I working on? I had a baby so, I’m working on raising my son (laughing). I’m also trying to create my own content. I started with baby steps, the way that Vanessa started with Ghost BFF, I started with making my podcast and doing it all on my own. Yeah, I want to do this animated series so that’s where my focus is at.

Nadia: That all sounds wonderful, and I look forward to everything that you do next. In the meantime I will be rewatching Ghost BFF. It’s just beautiful, an important conversation told in such an interesting way. In the spirit of the series, I wanted to end by asking what’s a mindfulness practice that you find most helpful in your life, at this moment in time?

Kaniehtiio: At this moment in time, I think without getting lost in being a parent, in being a mother, I think focusing on my son keeps me grounded. Keeps my focus on the things that are important, and not getting caught up in everything else like this industry. And just breathing, sometimes just taking a few breaths, if that makes sense.

Watch Seasons 1 and 2 of Ghost BFF here! ​👻💕
Click here for a list of resources on mental health and to watch Let's Talk About Our Feels, a short educational video series where the Ghost BFF team talk about women's health in relation to mindfulness practices.

Click here to read more about the MADE | NOUS Seek More Campaign.
Check out Kaniehtiio’s podcast Coffee With My Ma here!

The Canadian Screen Awards will be streaming live on academy.ca from May 17-20.

[Interview has been edited for clarity and length]

‘Oxygen’ Review

May 19, 2021

Liz (Mélanie Laurent) wakes up in a cryogenic chamber. She’s not sure who she is, or where she is, or how long she’s been dormant, but time is of the essence. Oxygen is running out. Her source of reliable communication is the voice of M.I.L.O (Mathieu Amalric), an artificial intelligence operator programmed as her medical liaison. While uncertain of identity and place, Liz has knowledge of the chamber. She knows more or less what questions to ask, each one bringing up twists and turns about her life. In order to escape, Liz must team up with the rigid M.I.L.O and find a way to regain her memories as her oxygen levels dwindle. The idea of escape interestingly manifests in different ways as the film progresses. It’s not only this chamber keeping her confined, but also the illusions within it, causing her to question what is real and what is conceptual. The high-tech visuals she sees above her are a filter for something far more infinite. Directed by Alexandre Aja and written by Christie LeBlanc, Oxygen is a tense claustrophobic thriller that explores the manipulation of truth and time. The story becomes increasingly like a philosophical drama that ponders the meaning of identity and existence. Leading the journey is an incredible performance by Mélanie Laurent, who conveys a rollercoaster of emotions from one minute to the next.

The winning combination of Laurent’s work and a screenplay of interesting ideas to ruminate on makes Oxygen a mostly compelling experience. The film benefits immensely from not being ten steps ahead of its protagonist. Known technically as “bioform patient Omicron 267,” Liz’s true identity is revealed as she’s discovering it. The film teases clues along the way through frequent use of flashbacks. A peek inside Liz’s fragmented memories introduces her said-to-be husband Léo (Malik Zidi). Hazy scenes of him playing the piano at their home, badly injured on a stretcher in a hospital, and alongside her as she works in a lab are the results of Liz’s fogging memory. Her confinement in the chamber is also juxtaposed with rats in a maze, and rats being experimented on in a lab. These visions become so visceral that Liz is convinced there are rats in the chamber with her. Her reality is blurred, and there are some who want to keep it that way. M.I.L.O isn’t the only source of communication at Liz’s fingertips. Scrambling through limited options as her oxygen levels continue to drop, she instructs M.I.L.O to connect her with a police station. What begins as an ordinary call unravels with Captain Moreau (Eric Herson-Macarel), plus possibly others listening in, gaslighting Liz into thinking that her mind is playing tricks on her, and that Léo doesn’t exist.

Oxygen resonates as a personal tale of survival above all. When the general panic and risk of talking to the wrong person sets in, Liz tunes out the noise. She focuses inward and tries to piece together reality from figments of her imagination. Apart from the dreamy flashbacks and some images/videos conjured by M.I.L.O, there is no depiction of a world outside of this chamber. Alexandre Aja makes a clever choice to stay with Liz in one location, creating a claustrophobic atmosphere where any indication of impending danger is felt so strongly. Whether it’s the sound of a sudden warning signal or a crucial request denied in M.I.L.O’s operatic voice, it’s easy to feel the desperation and severe uncertainty that these moments create. The time-pressured environment, coupled with great sound design and visuals, makes for intense moments on-screen where Liz is seconds away from death.

The solid voice acting also helps bring this pressurized environment to life. The decision to set most of the story inside this chamber works in a myriad of ways, the most interesting being that the chamber itself is filtered. The digitally conjured image Liz faces is put in place so as not to reveal what’s on the outside of this sleep pod. She’s fighting for her life in a manipulated setting, worsened by the ongoing string of calls with Captain Moreau. Only until the truth starts to come out, via a phone call with a mysterious woman, does Liz discover her real surroundings. At its core, Oxygen engages in the resilience of inner strength and escaping the trappings that can manifest in one’s mind.

Liz carries the emotional resonance of the story, and given how much of this scenario rests on one character, a lot of responsibility falls onto the central performance to convey her journey. Mélanie Laurent goes on a rollercoaster of emotions as she races against time for a chance at survival. In a stellar collaboration with Alexandre Aja, Laurent makes a minimal setting feel incredibly cinematic. All the simultaneous fear, confusion, desperation, elation, and determination are conveyed in equal measure. As well, she excels at the physicality of this character and raises the stakes, particularly with her survival instincts in the second half of the film. Even when the story becomes a little too caught up in twisting and turning, Laurent brings a compelling truthfulness to the role of Liz. The idea that she has all the answers she needs inside of her, she just needs to figure out how to regain her memory, is an interesting dynamic to play. Oxygen works best when under the spell of piecing together a mysterious identity. Where the film loses steam is the final act. The story leans into predictability and falls into the trap of revealing too much in one breath, which undercuts the genuinely interesting ideas at play.

Pondering the meaning of identity and existence brings a universality to Oxygen. The story follows a high-concept scenario, but for all the moments of dramatic tension, the most resonating part of this film is an incredibly quiet one. It’s a pensive reflection on the life Liz knows by heart, and the loss she feels from being on the outside looking in. What the film doesn’t lose is Mélanie Laurent’s all-consuming commitment to her character and setting. Oxygen makes space for Liz’s internal compass to lead this journey and find new ways to define herself in an environment where her identity is under wraps. While the story is centered in a claustrophobic framework, Oxygen creates a little world of possibilities that sees Liz defy the odds and control the narrative.

‘Language Lessons’ Review

May 30, 2021

The annual Inside Out Film Festival entertains film buffs of all stripes, showcasing the best and most diverse work of interest to 2SLGBTQ+ communities. Kicking off the 2021 festival was the premiere of Natalie Morales’ feature directorial debut Language Lessons, also co-written by and starring Morales. Read the full review below! 

In a world where so many different types of love exist, what tends to be portrayed on screen most frequently is romantic love. The rom-com is such a sprawling sub genre, often focused on how true love is able to conquer all obstacles and end happily. Being asked to name a rom-com generates endless enjoyable responses, and a myriad of couples whose relationships sometimes begin with friendship. As is the case with many romantic comedies, friendship love is strategically set up to reach the end goal of romance. Harry and Sally, one of the most iconic on-screen friendships, still meet the traditional rom-com fairytale fate, still enjoyably so. But rarely are platonic relationships portrayed on screen without the characters falling in love, which as Natalie Morales’ Language Lessons so powerfully indicates, is rich grounds to navigate through. Morales’ endearing feature directorial debut explores two people making a complex two-person decision of whether their friendship is worth preserving. Language Lessons is a heartfelt platonic love story about healing, grief, and the power of human connection no matter the distance.

Given how the film weighs more heavily on characters than plot, the relationship between Cariño (Natalie Morales) and Adam (Mark Duplass) is completely at the forefront. Cariño is Adam’s surprise Spanish teacher; his husband Will (Desean Terry) had gifted him virtual lessons. During the first online lesson, Adam and Cariño instantly hit it off; she becomes immersed into his morning routine, the two conversing in Spanish as he chills in his pool. But when the second lesson begins in tragedy, the relationship between teacher and student unexpectedly deepens and gives new meaning to the title of this film. Lessons of love, loss, boundaries, respect, grief, isolation, and hope make room for these two characters to learn about each other. Shot entirely through computer and phone screens, the film chronicles their friendship and completely eclipses the trappings of COVID era filmmaking. Without the specificity of mentioning or alluding to the pandemic at all, the story feels evergreen in its depiction of long-term relationships where people rely on technology to see each other often.
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Natalie Morales and Mark Duplass take the plunge together into a realm where so much is up in the air for their characters. Not tied by family, romance, or the simple benefits of close physical proximity, the ease with which they can choose to disconnect from each other is at their fingertips. But their relationship becomes much more complex than the second it takes to close a laptop. Morales and Duplass are brilliant to watch. Full of intrigue and surprises, they make the growing friendship between Cariño and Adam evolve so effortlessly. Their chemistry is instantly endearing, which makes the second Spanish lesson and everything that follows all the more poignant and emotionally involving. They bring a wonderful conversation piece to life, and drive home the power of human connection.

Naturally the structure of this film is close to the bone, existing at a time when people from all around the world use technology more than ever to cultivate relationships. So many intricacies and details about how we communicate get lost behind a screen, a limitation that becomes interesting discourse in Language Lessons. The film engages in layered conversations about what it takes to really know a person deep down. Cariño brings up a resonating point about the gaps Adam fills in about her in his head. He starts to create a narrative beneficial to the way he wants her to fit into his life. He wants to save her from her circumstances. It’s a dynamic that speaks so truthfully to how Adam feels he knows her right off the bat, how the influence of his white privilege sidesteps truthful interactions, and the unfair position this puts Cariño in.

By focusing solely on the two main characters, and the way their bond develops over time, the actors have so much room to navigate the intricacies of friendship. Unlike romantic love, platonic love doesn’t have the traditional milestones to celebrate highs. Platonic relationships are full of so many potential pitfalls and ‘what if’ moments. What happens if one person says, “I love you” early on? How would such a declaration affect the dynamic? There’s an incredibly vulnerable scene when Adam tells Cariño how much he cares about her, and there’s a moment on her end when she’s uncertain of how to respond. That space of unknown feelings makes way for an interesting area to explore. Boundaries are set, the stakes are high, and there are no guarantees between the two of them. All the intricacies of being a friend to someone show how much harder it can be to navigate a platonic relationship than a romantic one.

Given the computer/phone screen structure, and watching two people connect solely through technology, there’s the added layer of how easily someone can disappear from one’s life for any given period of time. Language Lessons utilizes this structure so brilliantly to tell a story. After the second Spanish lesson, Cariño and Adam decide to communicate via video messages. Without adhering to a schedule, they have time to ruminate on events and drop in on their own time. Both of them start to send messages from whichever moment inspires them to do so, which adds more texture to the story and reveals details about their daily lives outside of the lessons. As Cariño stresses in one of the more emotionally heightened scenes in the film, she has a life beyond Adam. This moment speaks to how incredibly talented Morales is both on and off the screen; she utterly inhabits this character and shares wonderful chemistry with Duplass. Together, as co-stars and co-writers, they bring so much emotion to such a tiny seed of a story.

Getting to see the spontaneous interactions between Cariño and Adam goes to show how one meeting between two people can make a difference. Language Lessons is a stellar embrace of vulnerability and opening up to one another about the most intimate details. A cycle of grief and loss manifests in these two characters, and the two of them alone convey it all. There are no detailed backstories or revealing flashbacks, but rather a stream of communication where the actors say so much within a limited frame. Language Lessons is an endearing exploration of how a platonic relationship takes shape, with a sweet spot that harkens to the comfort of a good rom-com. Shining through is the message that no matter how isolated or distant people are, a loving connection is possible to find.

The 2021 Inside Out Film Festival runs from May 27 to June 6.

‘Feel Good: Season 2’ Review

June 3, 2021

Kicking off Pride Month is the wonderful continuation of a queer love story created and co-written by comedian Mae Martin. The semi-autobiographical comedy series Feel Good is back for a second and final season, bringing with it all the pathos and humour that shine in the first. Mae plays a fictionalized version of herself as a stand-up comedian and recovering addict. Following the success of season one, which premiered in March 2020 to glowing acclaim and BAFTA recognition, the story continues to explore Mae’s relationship with George (Charlotte Ritchie), a woman in her first queer relationship who was afraid of coming out. Season one leaves them in an ambiguous place, and the ambiguity never really goes away. So much of Feel Good is about the co-dependency in their relationship, the swapping of one addiction for another, and the uncertainty of what they want. The series excels beautifully at expanding conversations around the fluidity of gender identity and what that means to a relationship. Feel Good carries the story along with humour throughout, and portrays moments of light-heartedness even in the darkest scenarios, which strikes a truthful chord. Intended as a two-season trajectory, Mae Martin brings a heartfelt journey to a moving conclusion that still leaves a desire for more.

The new episodes reach revealing emotional peaks starting with Mae, who returns to Canada on a healing journey after a relapse, and encounters dark facets of her past. Meanwhile in the UK, George is still teaching and feels uncertain about where she stands with Mae. Their complicated love story puts a question mark on their future. Mae is haunted by ghosts from her past and George tries to reinvent her present. How will they navigate being drawn back into each other’s lives? Can they continue to grow together in a healthy way? Season two rejoins Mae and George in an ambiguous place where they’re not entirely sure how to categorize their relationship status. Mae ponders what exactly she wants, and what is needed to reach a healthier emotional status. Season two delves into more mature subject matter about resonating themes, from co-dependency and labelling identity to consent and accountability.

Joining Mae and George on this journey are a plethora of supporting characters reprising their roles from season one, plus a few new welcome additions to the cast. Lisa Kudrow and Adrian Lukis return as Mae’s parents, Linda and Malcolm. Kudrow plays Linda’s aloof personality to a tee; beyond the scathing quips and one-liners is a character whose detachment from Mae’s life comes from a place of fearing how to process Mae’s truth. Linda is an example of how the second season adds another layer to characters and portrays them in a new light. Among the new characters are Mae’s agent Donna Ridley, played brilliantly by Eleanor Matsuura. Her character joins one of the most resonating subplots of the season, which touches on the issue of sexual misconduct in the comedy world. The series engages in compelling discussion about the importance of a platform and how best to use it, as well as the promise of opportunities under the conditions of silence. Two more resonating characters, who Mae encounters at a rehab center in Canada, are played by Marisha Wallace and EVE. They each make a lasting impact with a short amount of screen time, and Wallace especially has such great comedic timing. While some of the characters make for more compelling screen time than others, the screenplay makes a refreshing point of leaning into everyone’s flaws rather than glossing over them.

Feel Good speaks to the importance of staying true to yourself and feeling supported in each stage of discovering your identity in the LGBTQ+ community. For Mae, fluid in her gender and sexuality, the process of navigating through the intricacies of a relationship is challenging. Mae conveys this process so thoughtfully, and with an effortless sense of humour. Identifying as an Adam Driver or Ryan Gosling when asked how she defines herself sparks interesting and humorous discussion about labelling, which also conveys Mae’s hesitation to be placed in a box. The series is a great platform of acceptance for this character to just be who she is, at any given moment. Co-written by Martin and Joe Hampson, the series explores the muddled side of relationships where people are learning who they are and are not entirely sure what they need from each other. The actors continue to bring this complex dynamic to life very well. Mae shares excellent chemistry with Charlotte Ritchie; together they paint a picture of two people magnetically drawn to each other through thick and thin. Season two shows both characters in a more mature place, especially in terms of self-discovery. The second season also builds on the first by shining a light on Mae’s past, showing how particular circumstances led her to feel long-term emotional wounds as a result. Mae’s foggy recollection of her past relationships as a teenager manifest in so many different ways, affecting her career as a comic and the issues of morality within toxic environments.

While the progression of Feel Good is built for two seasons, the conclusion evokes a slightly incomplete and rushed feeling. The ambiguity that still surrounds Mae and George leaves behind a lot of room for more grounds to explore. But the journey they go on in the process is certainly enjoyable and so compelling to watch. This chapter in Mae’s life is full of new beginnings, milestone moments, the romanticism of relationships, and the addictive behaviors that she navigates through every day. The second and final season maintains the lightheartedness that makes the first one soar, with the added layer of more challenging plot points. Mae Martin’s Feel Good is an intimate, confronting, and endearing portrayal of love.

The second and final season of Feel Good premieres globally on Netflix June 4th.

‘Cruella’ Review

June 9, 2021

Among a mostly forgettable collection of Disney live-action films, Craig Gillespie’s Cruella leaves behind an extravagant mess of punk-rock eye candy and scheming power moves. It’s an endeavor in which those involved look to be having the time of their lives putting another spin on Cruella de Vil, one of the most famous characters and antagonist of author Dodie Smith’s 1956 novel The Hundred and One Dalmatians. Based on Smith’s novel and written for the screen by Tony McNamara and Dana Fox, Cruella takes some twisty turns to give the villain a backstory. While marketed as Cruella’s origin story, Gillespie’s film is just getting started with her, scratching an edgy surface and teasing the early stages of how fashion designer Estella becomes a revenge-bent Cruella in one great monologue alone. It’s not necessarily a story that delves convincingly into the why of what she does, but it’s nonetheless a fun introduction to the pre-101 Dalmatians DeVil that leans a lot more into her rise in the fashion world than her relationship with dogs. Cruella embraces silliness every step of the way and the cast are totally on board, Emma Stone most fabulously of all in the titular role.

Set in 1970s London amidst the punk rock revolution, Estella (Emma Stone) sets out to make a name for herself as a top designer. Her days as a department store cleaner are swapped for couture work when her impromptu revamped window display one night catches the eye of fashion mogul Baroness von Hellman (Emma Thompson) the next morning. It’s the best display the Baroness has seen from that store in 10 years, and she wants Estella’s splash of talent (and ideas) under her rigid watchful eye. Leading up to this meeting of the fashion minds, the story spends a lot of time on Estella’s childhood. The bloated, stuffy first chapter is where the 134-minute runtime of the film is felt the most. So many details about Estella’s character feel tacked on, conveniently put in place in order to fulfill her rebellious spirit and her path as an aspiring designer. A welcome little detail is the introduction of young Jasper and Horace, with whom young Estella finds solace after her mother’s sudden death. The trio start grifting to make a living, and their illegal activities evidently follow them into adulthood. But most of this early chapter is spent waiting in anticipation for Emma Stone, whose entrance promises more satisfying moments to come.

Once the film reaches Stone’s Estella and she starts working for House of Baroness Couture, the pacing is turned up several notches as both women vie to make a statement. Estella wants to work her way to the top of the fashion world. The completely self-absorbed Baroness, who knew Estella had a spunky flair from the moment she saw that window display, hired her for a reason: this is somebody who could potentially give her a run for her money, and what better way to assess the competition than bring her aboard the couture team? The Baroness shows she’s more than willing to steal designs and claim all the credit. Estella and the Baroness dance around each other’s intentions, until the former’s adulation of the latter comes crashing down after a personal revelation. The film strikes a great duality between the two characters, and creates a fun experience of anticipating how far they will go to outshine each other. Another interesting layer is added by echoing Estella’s past and showing how the Baroness fits in, which presents scenes from the beginning of the film in a new light.

The maddening shift in their dynamic sets off a course of events that sees Estella fully embrace Cruella, an alter-ego her mother once reminded her to keep hidden away or else she would cause trouble. Knowing that the Baroness would feel threatened by being upstaged, Estella unleashes Cruella as the distraction, and suddenly all eyes are on her. What ensues is a devilish battle of the Emmas as their characters get fashionable revenge on each other. Cruella’s avenging of a loved one and the Baroness’ refusal to co-exist with a competitor clash in entertaining ways. A lot of the fun comes from watching Emma Stone and Emma Thompson bounce off each other with witty and often scathing remarks. Stone is so committed to the absurdity of this character, and it’s clear she is having a ball. As the driving force of the film, she commands the screen. She relishes in playing a dual role of wanting to be the Estella her mother would want her to be, and unapologetically embracing the alter-ego that’s been inside all along. Stone completely holds her own acting opposite the great Emma Thompson, and the two of them together are a treat. Thompson plays the Baroness with such cold, devilish restraint that is unrelenting. Beyond the two Emmas, the casting of this film is a triumph for the most part. Paul Walter Hauser and Joel Fry play Horace and Jasper, known as Cruella’s henchmen, but both actors bring great layers to them so that they aren’t just stock caricatures. Kirby Howell-Baptiste plays Anita Darling, and unfortunately isn’t given much to do at all, apart from writing about and photographing Cruella in action. Given the mid-credits scene and the announcement of a sequel, there’s an opportunity to see more of Anita that should be explored.

So much of the story is told through glam-punk visuals, and the deVil is in the details with Cruella’s costumes. Legendary costume designer Jenny Beavan has absolutely outdone herself with the sheer ambition and care she poured into each creation on display. From Cruella’s fiery party-crashing gown to her jaw-dropping ‘garbage’ couture train, the costumes are like another character in the film. Each reveal of a new scene-stealing dress, particularly during the montage of Cruella upstaging a string of the Baroness’ events, commands the screen and becomes a far more resonating afterthought than what’s actually happening plot-wise. Beyond the titular character, the costumes are excellent across the board and give so much more weight to all the roles. Among the most memorable are Horace’s well-dressed chihuahua Wink, a total scene-stealer. Adding to the visuals is a pitch perfect soundtrack, theoretically. Sometimes the frequent use of songs, however great they are, is an overpowering distraction. One needle drop after another is a puzzling choice, especially given how great Nicholas Britell’s original score is. There’s a playful, punk-rock quality to his work that captures the mood so well and gets overshadowed.

As far as origin stories go, the mid-credits ending reinforces the feeling that Gillespie’s adaptation is just scratching the surface of who this version of Cruella is. The easter egg peaks interest by including Anita Darling, Roger (Kayvan Novak), and Cruella’s doorstep gift to them: Pongo and Perdita. Plus, a cute replica of Roger’s flat from the 1961 animated film 101 Dalmatians is nostalgic as a fan. But there is a disconnect between the story that was just told and this mid-credits moment. Cruella’s monologue by the fountain comes close, but overall the backstory element leaves behind questions about the necessity of trying to explain her actions, especially when the film often leans into unleashing her character in a very brazen way. While the plot and pacing take a walk on the bland side, this glam-punk Cruella makes a statement brought to life by Emma Stone, who makes Craig Gillespie’s aspiring extravaganza worth relishing in.

‘True Mothers’ Review

June 15, 2021

The lingering power of Naomi Kawase’s new film, True Mothers, stems from an extraordinary level of patience. This slow-burning exploration of two mothers, whose worlds collide from different experiences of adoption, takes time to craft an emotional family drama. Kawase gently peels back the layers of an intertwining story about parenthood, societal expectations, and heartbreak of giving up a child. Based on Mizuki Tsujimura’s novel ‘Asa ga Kuru,’ True Mothers weaves from one character backstory to another and takes intriguing turns along the way. The film unfolds with an appetite for welcoming multiple perspectives on a shared experience, and each of the central characters’ journeys are given weight. The story centers on a couple who decide to adopt a child after struggles with infertility, and grapple with their moral dilemmas when the child’s biological mother enters the picture wanting her son back. Kawase’s adaptation strikes a stunning balance between two worlds, and how two mothers’ lives are forever connected from afar. True Mothers is a beautiful interwoven journey of love, and the emboldened actions taken to uphold a family.

The introduction to Satoko (Hiromi Nagasaku), Kiyokazu (Arata Iura), and their adopted son Asato (Reo Sato) shows a glimpse into their settled life as a family. It’s clear early on that this little boy has full support from his parents. When Satoko receives a call one day from Asato’s kindergarten teacher, alleging that he pushed another child off a jungle gym, she questions how he could be capable of such a thing. How could she doubt her boy? The other child’s mother calls afterwards, wanting a settlement for his medical expenses. As it turns out, the child had lied. This incident at the school puts the film at a crossroads where the story appears to be going in one direction, then switches gears to an earlier timeline when Satoko and Kiyokazu discuss starting a family. Kawase does a wonderful job in this moment, and throughout the film, to demonstrate the jump between past and present while revealing details about the characters’ intentions.

During initial discussions about having children, infertility is the last thing on the Kurihara’s minds until it suddenly becomes their reality. The fragility felt in this news makes it increasingly aware to them how it’s nothing short of a miracle to make children. While Kiyokazu brings up divorce as an option since Satoko has no chance of getting pregnant with him, she refuses and instead they book a flight for him to get a sperm procedure done overseas. The flight suddenly gets cancelled, and Satoko resigns from the idea altogether. “It’s us two…you and I will go on,” she says. One day, the couple come across a TV program advertising Baby Baton, a non-profit organization intended to pair couples who can’t procreate with mothers who can’t raise their children. It’s a place where children find their parents…”pass the baton, give a child a future,” the program narrates. As Satoko and Kiyokazu watch how Baby Baton transforms lives, they realize they can still be parents. Adoption soon becomes their reality when they take baby Asato home, after meeting briefly with the boy’s mother Hikari (Aju Makita). Kawase makes the choice not to show Hikari’s face clearly during the scene, which adds to the intrigue of this character and creates a cloud of uncertainty when she re-enters the picture.

Six years after the adoption, Hikari calls the Kurihara household. She wants her son back, and threatens to expose the truth of his adoption to everyone the couple knows. If they refuse, she demands cash instead. As tensions mount over the phone, Satoko asks Hikari to meet them in person. The young woman who arrives at their home doesn’t appear to be the same woman they met six years ago. Satoko and Kiyokazu grow more emboldened to defend their family, doubting Hikari’s identity. What truly resonates about this moment is how Hikari gets small details wrong (such as what grade Asato is in) and assumes she’s been erased from her son’s life when in actual fact, he knows about her. The passing of time is felt so deeply, as is Hikari’s need to be truly seen and accepted into her role as a mother. The film morphs into a moving tribute to her side of the story, and how she wasn’t shown acceptance when she became pregnant. Hikari’s story is intertwined with a whirlwind teenage romance, strict family pressures, and the heartbreak of giving up a child she wanted to keep.

True Mothers holds so many threads together without losing focus. Each and every frame is absorbing to watch. Naomi Kawase’s direction captures scenes like a photographic memory. She recalls moments from the past and cherishes moments of the present in an ethereal way. The direction carries strong emotion and moves with graceful intentionality. The film beautifully weaves together two mothers’ stories, giving both a sensitive and layered character study. The switch from one timeline to the next never feels jarring. Instead, Kawase strikes an intimate connection between the characters and lets the power of that connection take the film to new places. The parallels drawn between Satoko and Hikari are particularly resonating. Satoko embodies what Hikari’s parents did not: the embrace and acceptance of bringing a child into the world.

While this is a lengthy film, the time spent elaborating on the characters’ backstories has a compelling and emotional outcome. True Mothers is an absorbing exploration of parenthood, and the weight of fulfilling the many societal expectations that come with having children. It’s a tale of intertwining stories told in a non-linear way; Tina Baz and Yoichi Shibuya’s editing maintain a clear focus all the way through. An incredibly talented cast, Aju Makita as Hikari being the standout, bring their characters to life and make the film feel all the more immersive to watch. From moral dilemma and exposé to romance and mystery, True Mothers intertwines universal themes into a lingering study of character.

Celebrating Pride: 15 LGBTQ+ Films/Shows To Watch

June 16, 2021

Happy Pride Month! June gives us the opportunity to highlight and celebrate the LGBTQ+ community. One of many ways to celebrate is by diving into films and television shows that center LGBTQ+ stories and creators. Identity expression through an artistic medium such as storytelling helps create safe spaces for representation. Seeing yourself reflected on screen, no matter where you are in the process of finding your identity, nurtures a place of understanding and affirmation. Here are some LGBTQ+ centric titles that span various decades and genres of storytelling.

A Fantastic Woman (‘Una mujer fantástica’) • 2017
Directed by Sebastián Lelio

Marina (Daniela Vega) and Orlando (Francisco Reyes) are in love and planning their future, when one night Orlando suddenly falls ill and passes away. Instead of being able to mourn her lover, Marina is treated with suspicion by authorities and with disdain by his family. She is forbidden to attend his funeral and thrown out of the apartment they shared. Mourning the loss of the man she loved, she finds herself under intense scrutiny from those with no regard for her privacy. A powerful perspective and fantastic performance by Daniela Vega carry this film through a resonating journey. 

Rent or buy A Fantastic Woman on primevideo.com with a Prime Video subscription and 100% of proceeds go to The Canadian Centre for Gender and Sexual Diversity. Learn more: amazon.ca/giveback.

But I'm A Cheerleader • 1999
Directed by Jamie Babbit

Megan (Natasha Lyonne) considers herself a typical American girl. She excels in school and cheerleading, and she has a handsome football-playing boyfriend, even though she isn't crazy about him. Her parents decide she's gay and send her to True Directions, a boot camp meant to alter her sexual orientation. While there, Megan meets a rebellious and unashamed teen lesbian, Graham (Clea DuVall). Though Megan still feels confused, she starts to have feelings for Graham. In this delightfully 90s film, Jamie Babbit engages in resonating commentary on the horrors of conversion therapy while taking a campy, social satire approach. Rather than sugar coat the underlying serious themes, the film's bubblegum aesthetic and sense of humour make the absurdity all the more clear.

Stream But I'm A Cheerleader on crave.ca with a Crave subscription.

Disclosure • 2020
Directed by Sam Feder

In this documentary, leading trans creatives and thinkers share heartfelt perspectives about Hollywood's impact on the trans community. For decades, representation on screen has affected how transgender people are seen by themselves and by others. Through exploring the history of trans images in film and television, the importance of truthful narratives shine. It is crucial to note that while representation is improving, there is still a long way to go, and the work continues. This eye-opening documentary is a compelling piece of work that should be essential viewing.

Stream Disclosure on netflix.com with a Netflix subscription.

Feel Good (Seasons 1 and 2) • 2020-21
Created by Mae Martin

Stand-up comic Mae Martin navigates a passionate, messy new relationship with her girlfriend, George, while dealing with the challenges of sobriety. The semi-autobiographical comedy series (created and co-written by Martin) is back for a second and final season, bringing with it all the pathos and humour that shine in the first. The series excels beautifully at expanding conversations around the fluidity of gender identity and what that means to a relationship. The second and final season maintains the lightheartedness that makes the first one soar, with the added layer of more challenging plot points. Mae Martin’s Feel Good is an intimate, confronting, and endearing portrayal of love.

Stream both seasons of Feel Good on netflix.com with a Netflix subscription.

Lingua Franca • 2020
Directed by Isabel Sandoval

An undocumented trans woman (Isabel Sandoval) seeking legal status in the US becomes romantically involved with the grandson of the elderly woman she cares for. Paranoid about deportation, she continues to work as a caregiver under a microscope in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn, NY. This beautifully potent film is written, directed, produced, edited, and starring Isabel Sandoval. A wonderful feat from a gifted storyteller who brings a trans, migrant love story onto the screen with passion and care. Sandoval evokes feeling through moments of stillness and reflection while conveying a multi-layered story.

Stream Lingua Franca on netflix.com with a Netflix subscription.

No Ordinary Man • 2020
Directed by Aisling Chin-Yee & Chase Joynt

The legacy of Billy Tipton, a 20th-century American jazz musician and trans icon, is brought to life by a diverse group of contemporary trans artists. With an incredibly thoughtful approach, filmmakers Aisling Chin-Yee and Chase Joynt connect Tipton’s story to the people who followed in his footsteps. What makes No Ordinary Man an engaging documentary is the abundance of different perspectives and narratives uniting in a loving way to retell a misrepresented legacy. The power of role models, truthfulness, and understanding shines through from beginning to end.

Rent or buy No Ordinary Man on iTunes - Apple Canada.

Pariah • 2011
Directed by Dee Rees

A Brooklyn teenager juggles conflicting identities and risks friendship, heartbreak, and family in a desperate search for sexual expression. This stunning coming-of-age film explores a gay teenage girl (Adepero Oduye) living in New York and writing poetry. She goes through a heartbreaking and hopeful arc of asserting her identity and exploring relationships on the way to self-discovery. Writer-director Dee Rees tells a personal and layered story, led by the incredibly talented Adepero Oduye who brings the film to life with a beautiful performance.

Rent or buy Pariah on iTunes - Apple Canada.

Paris Is Burning • 1990
Directed by Jennie Livingston

Focusing on drag queens living in New York City and their "house" culture, which provides a sense of community and support for the flamboyant and often socially shunned performers. Groups from each house compete in elaborate balls that take cues from the world of fashion. Also touching on issues of racism and poverty, the film features interviews with a number of renowned drag queens, including Willi Ninja, Pepper LaBeija and Dorian Corey.

Stream Paris Is Burning on crave.ca with a Crave subscription.

Portrait of a Lady on Fire • 2019
Directed by Céline Sciamma

On an isolated island in Brittany at the end of the eighteenth century, a female painter (Noémie Merlant) is obliged to paint a wedding portrait of a young woman (Adèle Haenel). Portrait of a Lady on Fire is a masterpiece in every sense of the word. A hypnotic, smoldering love story with two impeccable performances that make each moment feel so real. The story builds to a shattering final scene, reverberating long after the credits roll. Writer-director Céline Sciamma explores slow-burning attraction and creates moments of intensity from the quietest, gentlest of moments.

Rent or buy Portrait of a Lady on Fire on iTunes - Apple Canada.

Saving Face • 2004
Directed by Alice Wu

A Chinese-American lesbian (Michelle Krusiec) and her traditionalist mother (Joan Chen) are reluctant to go public with secret loves that clash against cultural expectations. Alice Wu’s delightful romantic comedy deserves to be more cherished and seen amongst the outpouring of films that dominate this genre. The few mainstream films about lesbians that do exist tend to be dramatic, emotionally devastating work. But it’s also crucial to see films that have a sweeter, more light-hearted tone. Saving Face is resonating for this reason; it’s a sweet and heartwarming rom-com with resonating themes.

Rent or buy Saving Face on iTunes - Apple Canada.

Schitt’s Creek • 2015-2020
Created by Dan Levy & Eugene Levy

When rich video-store magnate Johnny Rose and his family suddenly find themselves broke, they are forced to leave their pampered lives to regroup in Schitt's Creek. At the core of this delightful series is a stunning emotional arc in the characters. The Levys tell a fully realized story with an irresistible sense of humour. The Roses embark on a journey that sees them learn how to become better human beings, frankly. The beloved Canadian show (starring Catherine O’Hara, Annie Murphy, Dan Levy, and Eugene Levy) portrays a same-sex relationship in a completely accepting and heartwarming way. 

Stream all seasons of Schitt’s Creek on netflix.com with a Netflix subscription.

Shiva Baby • 2021
Directed by Emma Seligman

A college student (Rachel Sennott) attends a family shiva where she is accosted by her relatives, outshined by her ex-girlfriend, and face-to-face with her sugar daddy and his family. Emma Seligman’s stunning debut feature is a funny, invigorating, fully realized pressure cooker. Seligman blends comedy with drama and hints of horror, while exploring a woman coming-of-age, self-worth, anxiety, sexuality, interfering family dynamics, power shifts in relationships, and traditions. The characterization is outstanding. The screenplay is quick witted. The sense of humour is a delight, providing constant laughs and lines so great you must keep up because you won’t want to miss them.

Rent or buy Shiva Baby on iTunes - Apple Canada.

Shirley • 2020
Directed by Josephine Decker

A famous horror writer (Elisabeth Moss) finds inspiration for her next book after she and her husband take in a young couple. Shirley is a delirious puzzle that asks more than it can answer. The film interrogates what it means to be a muse, what types of behaviors are accepted by geniuses, and the many expectations on women living in a man’s world. Elisabeth Moss knows how to put on a show. She brilliantly captures the blurred lines between her character’s fiction and reality.

Stream Shirley on primevideo.com with a Prime Video subscription.

The Half of It • 2020
Directed by Alice Wu

When smart but cash-strapped teen Ellie Chu (Leah Lewis) agrees to write a love letter for a jock, she doesn't expect to become his friend - or fall for his crush Aster (Alexxis Lemire). Writer-director Alice Wu tells a charming and light-hearted story about young love and self-discovery that subverts many of the tropes often found in romantic coming-of-age films. The film centers a complex and nuanced relationship between Ellie and Aster, who are both navigating how best to communicate with each other. 

Stream The Half of It on netflix.com with a Netflix subscription.

The Handmaiden • 2016
Directed by Chan-wook Park

1930s Korea, in the period of Japanese occupation, a young woman is hired as a handmaiden to a Japanese heiress who lives a secluded life on a large countryside estate with her domineering uncle. But, the maid has a secret: she is a pickpocket recruited by a swindler posing as a Japanese count to help him seduce the heiress to elope with him, rob her of her fortune, and lock her up in a madhouse. The plan seems to proceed according to plan until the women discover some unexpected emotions. Starring Kim Tae-ri and Yong-nyeo Lee, The Handmaiden shines with brilliant storytelling and a unique love story.

Stream The Handmaiden on primevideo.com with a Prime Video subscription.

‘Luca’ Review

June 22, 2021

Sometimes the simplest stories are the ones that resonate most. Disney and Pixar’s Luca, helmed by Italian director and writer Enrico Casarosa, flows with breezy summertime vibes. At its core is a wholesome friendship between two boys who share an appetite for discovery, imagination, and fun. Set in the seaside town of Portorosso on the Italian Riviera, newfound friends Luca (voiced by Jacob Tremblay) and Alberto (voiced by Jack Dylan Grazer) dream of a whole new world. Being sea creatures, there’s an entire universe beyond the water that they don’t know about and want to explore. But their dreams are threatened by the town’s collective fear of sea monsters. Worried that Luca will tempt unfortunate fate by venturing onto the surface one too many times, his mother swears on sending him to the bottom of the ocean for the rest of the summer. But Luca sneaks off with Alberto to join the “human town”. Using their ability to become humans when on land, the boys embark on an unforgettable adventure to Portorosso, a place they call Vespa town. Anchored by a sweet friendship, Luca is an adorable fish-out-of-water story with a big heart.

Enrico Casarosa, writer-director of the Pixar short La Luna, carries the magic of that coming-of-age fable into his first full-length feature. At the heart of Luca is a young boy finding his own way in the midst of fearful surroundings, with the help of a blossoming friendship. Alberto encourages Luca’s first experience on land, and eventually teaches him how to conquer his fears through inner confidence. Luca learns the weight of Alberto’s go-to phrase “Silencio Bruno,” a self-affirmation to silence inner doubt and an antidote for whenever they’re about to take a risk. The story builds on a strong foundation of friendship and acceptance, which gives the characters an emotionally resonating arc in the final act that sees Luca jump into the deep end and put himself out there to meet Alberto halfway. The journey to personal victory is a rocky road. It’s the journey these boys go on together that makes this film so beautifully endearing.

Luca succeeds at conveying a summery, adventurous vibe throughout. The story captures the excitement of making a new friend, having the time of your life in fleeting moments that melt quickly into memories, and breaking away from your family home to go off on new adventures. The particular adventure Luca and Alberto embark on is fueled by a love for Vespas. Having tried and failed to make one of their own, they set their sights on the real thing in Portorosso: a shiny red Vespa belonging to town bully Ercole Visconti (voiced by Saverio Raimondo). He’s a five-time winner of the Portorosso Cup: a triathlon of swimming, biking, and eating lots of pasta. Ercole embodies the slimy, arrogant personality of self-imposed greatness. He loves nothing more than belittling competition, including young Giulia (voiced by Emma Berman), an energetic underdog gearing up for another solo attempt at ending his winning streak. When she sees Ercole swarm around Luca and Alberto, two new faces in “his town,” she jumps to their defense. Just like that, a friendship trio is born. With the help of Giulia’s initially reluctant fisherman dad Massimo (voiced by Marco Barricelli), the trio form an underdog team in the competition.

Giulia has a great introduction to the film. Her role in the story becomes an endearing one, full of understanding and empathy as she gets to know two kids who also feel different from everyone else. Rather than oversaturate the plot and twist the film in different directions, the filmmakers take a clear and simple route to tell the story. Luca explores just how delicate it can be to navigate through friendships, especially at a time of discovering your strengths and building your confidence while feeling the pressures of conformity. In this case, the horrifying reputation sea monsters have in Portorosso is enough for the boys to fiercely maintain their deeply held secret, but at what cost? The story builds up to an emotional climax that tests their friendship.

Beyond the themes that make the story resonate, just as much care and detail are infused in the world-building around the characters. The seaside town of Portorosso is a beaut. Gorgeous animation splashed with vibrant colours, heart melting references to features of Italian culture, and idiosyncratic dream sequences make Luca one of the most beautifully crafted Pixar films to date. The dreamy moments in particular are a great way to show how vivid Luca and Alberto’s imaginations are. Everything they envision in their heads, they recite with sparkling enthusiasm, and the animation matches that energy. The detailed worlds crafted underwater and on land are stunning to look at, and the transitions between both settings are seamless. It’s a visual treat when the two worlds collide, as they do when two sea monsters passing as humans try to dodge water and don’t always succeed. The animators create a lovely portrait down to the tiniest details, from an Italian scopa card to a quaint tomato garden. In addition to visuals, the voice work plays a large part in bringing this place to life. Jacob Tremblay and Jack Dylan Grazer could not have been more energetic and heartfelt. Everyone in the supporting cast also does accomplished work; a few fun additions are Maya Rudolph and Jim Gaffigan voicing Luca’s parents, Daniela and Lorenzo Paguro.

 Luca shines with classic adventure vibes; the characters are thrown into an exciting experience fueled by the risky undertaking of dreaming big. Luca and Alberto dare to dream. It’s subtly established early on that winning the Portorosso Cup would be worth a lot more than a Vespa. As the boys jump into the deep end, meeting characters along the way who either help or hurt the process, they discover that inner work and team work make the dream work. As one of the characters mentions, “some will never accept them, but some will, and Luca seems to find the good ones.” As the beautiful and emotional ending demonstrates, the victory of their journey extends far beyond the triathlon finish line. The friendship between Luca and Alberto gives the film a wholesome arc. They help each other address their most personal inner fears and embrace each other’s identities. The finish line is a pit stop to an entire new world that awaits them, and they each discover a piece of themselves to explore. For Luca, to attend school as an open book and be accepted as a sea creature. For Alberto, to experience a father figure in a way by staying behind to help Giulia’s father with fishing.

The storytelling creates something so winning and charming within a smaller scale. The simplicity of its approach is what makes Luca work so magically. The story really crystalizes what is most important to the protagonists and makes room for their friendship to take the film to new places. Resonating messages about acceptance and self-discovery shine through. Luca holds its own in a sea of highly regarded top tier Pixar films and wholeheartedly succeeds as a charming underdog story. It’s short, sweet, and a sincere joy to watch. Luca is a sunny delight that, underneath its simple surface, makes a big splash with an emotionally satisfying conclusion.

‘Fear Street Part 1: 1994’ Review

June 30, 2021

“Welcome to Fear Street, where your worst nightmares live and where the terror never ends.”

The literary horror world of R. L. Stine has seen a resurrection of book-to-screen studio adaptations in recent years. Decades after the super nostalgic 90s television series Goosebumps, based on Stine’s popular anthologies about teens finding themselves in spooky situations, the title was given a spin in 2015 with Jack Black playing the author himself. A lackluster 2018 sequel came and went, but what remains are plenty of horror fiction books to be discovered by a new generation, or rediscovered by those who grew up reading the horror author’s bone-chilling stories. Growing up in the 90s and early 2000s, Stine’s unmistakable pulpy book covers stood out on library shelves and were coveted on the pages of Scholastic Book Fair flyers. Among them, the young adult book series Fear Street, which began prior to Goosebumps and was geared towards older teens. Markedly more violent and adult, Fear Street operates on a loop of terror. Set in fictional Shadyside, the series follows the town’s sinister history through a nightmare 300 years in the making. Given the sprawling material and best-selling appetite for Stine horror, it comes to no surprise that Netflix is hitting the crest of this wave with a three-part film trilogy based on the series, and they’re off to a nostalgic start.

 Fear Street 1994 (Part 1), directed by Leigh Janiak, evokes the peak 90s slasher horror that screams Scream. Wes Craven’s genre staple has a fun influence on Janiak’s choices, from the effective casting of Maya Hawke as Heather in the opening scene to employing the same film composer who chased Sidney and Ghostface through four installments. While Marco Beltrami’s creepy, brilliant score is often given center stage to play out in the Scream films, Fear Street tends to overpower his work with consecutive 90s rock song needle drops. Nine Inch Nails, Radiohead, Garbage, Pixies, the list goes on with rock hits by bands of the decade. Part 1 lays the setting of its era on thick, but in a rollicking way, tapping into a teenaged angst of trying to be edgy and cool. On a more emotionally engaging level, the kinships formed between characters give Fear Street something more to hold onto beyond the 90s horror vibes and the violent kills. The story follows a circle of teenage friends who accidentally encounter the ancient evil responsible for a series of brutal murders that have cursed their town for centuries. They soon discover these terrifying events may all be connected — and they may be the next targets.

The neon-lit Shadyside Mall opening sequence sets the tone for what’s to come — whispering threats, stylized sets, skull mask chases, and a haunted centuries-old grip on the town that drives its residents mad. Fear Street 1994 is less scary as it is one big twisted game leaning into R rated gore and witchcraft. The 90s feel like a classic way to start the trilogy, and in doing so, writer-director Leigh Janiak pays homage to the sweet spot of slasher horror through a contemporary lens. The references that make it onto the screen certainly feel like they’re coming from a filmmaker who truly appreciates and is a fan of the genre, while also wanting to make something of her own in this adaptation of a sprawling story. Working with co-writers Phil Graziadei and Kyle Killen, Janiak weaves nostalgic horror with romance and adventure of modern sensibilities.

The central love story introduced between Deena (Kiana Madeira) and Sam (Olivia Scott Welch) starts to parallel the opening lyrics of Pixies’ song ‘Hey’ as connections are made between Shadyside’s past and present. What’s initially between the two of them is distance; Sam moved to a preppy neighboring town called Sunnyvale, and Deena had a hard time adjusting to the change. The towns are 30 minutes apart but for Deena, the distance feels immense. Janiak does a good job portraying how dramatic any given experience can be for teenagers. Deena and Sam’s first scene together is an escalating argument in the midst of a football game, which sort of questionably mirrors tensions rising on the field between the Sunnyvale Devils and the Shadyside Witches. Shaky editing aside, the weight of their almost love-hate relationship is established from the get-go, which makes forthcoming plot reveals feel more resonant. There’s still a lot of emotional residue from their relationship and conversations around identity.

Kiana Madeira and Olivia Scott Welch share a strong chemistry that captures bottled up feelings well. Outside of their relationship, the film introduces characters who make up a central circle of friends: theory enthusiast Josh (Benjamin Flores Jr.), cheerleading captain Kate (Julia Rehwald), and classmate Simon (Fred Hechinger). Everyone but Deena is convinced the Shadyside Mall attack is the doing of condemned witch Sarah Fier, who as the story goes cheated death by cutting off her hand to grip the town and has returned for more revenge. But Deena soon realizes the danger they all face. After the group of friends have an accidental encounter with Fier’s cursed grave, they are suddenly thrust into her infinite thirst for blood and chased by her army of possessed killers.

Leigh Janiak’s adaptation takes some creative liberties with Stine’s Fear Street books, capturing the horror spirit while adding new elements such as the mythology of Sarah Fier, a character who features prominently in spirit as Part 1 explores witch-driven madness. Janiak has a clear vision and is able to tease the mystery out across decades, building towards a feeling of anticipation for the second installment. Without falling into too many overwhelming trappings of predictability, Janiak captures teenaged angst through setting and character. With the added support of Amanda Ford’s costume design, the 90s vibes are fairly consistent all the way through. With fun references to certain films such as Craven's Scream and John Carpenter's Halloween, Fear Street 1994 enjoyably plays into the slasher horror genre. Janiak also leans into the markedly more violent aspects of the source material, with some gruesome onscreen kills that explain the film’s R rating for bloody horror violence, including a really unfortunate scene involving a bread slicer. 

At the center of this Fear Street adaptation lies character dynamics and the underlying conversation around who becomes Sarah Fier’s scapegoats. Characters who are having a hard time with identity, who feel like social outcasts and are trying to escape a dreary town. When thinking about Shadysiders from the way Sunnyvale sees them, for instance, they are looked down upon. Leigh Janiak and co-writers explore a world in which characters’ fates are decided for them by a systemic rot that permeates in the town. The infinite cursed cloud that hangs over Shadyside goes back centuries and persists systemically. Deena is a great character to lead the audience through this story; she leads with a fearless protection for those she loves and cares about, particularly Sam in a fight for survival. While some of the actors fall a little flat, Kiana Madeira gives a strong performance that becomes one of the main anchors of the story, as does Benjamin Flores Jr. who plays Josh. It’s his passionate knowledge, and immersion into AOL theory chats, that connects the dots in Shadyside.

Fear Street 1994 captures the adrenaline rush of watching a fun 90s slasher, incorporates memorable character dynamics, and turns the gore level up several notches. The tactic of unleashing the fear in three installments is off to a reviving start. For a story centered on a seemingly never-ending reign of terror, the filmmakers succeed with a structure designed to build on there being more to come. Part 1 ends on an edge-of-your-seat note that promises to bring on the mystery and evokes a familiar comfort to Stine readers, leaving fans thirsty for more.

Fear Street Part 1: 1994 releases July 2nd exclusively on Netflix at www.netflix.com/FearStreet.

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‘Black Conflux’ Review

July 1, 2021

No one knows where they’re going. They just end up places, not quite sure how they got there. It’s what they do next that really matters. The words of Canadian filmmaker Nicole Dorsey’s protagonist in Black Conflux encapsulate the cloud of disillusionment that hangs over a small town in 1987 Newfoundland. Dorsey’s eerie debut feature puts her on the map as a promising talent to watch. The film follows the seemingly separate lives of an anxious teenage girl and a self-loathing man, which fatefully collide under the microscope of small-town living. Dorsey exhibits a stunning sense of control as she explores the characters’ day-to-days, bringing a fresh perspective to what coming-of-age means. While the film feels confusing and meandering at times, particularly in the first half, Dorsey manages to bring it all together by the conclusion. The melancholy story engages in thoughtful observations on toxic masculinity, and the pressurized expectations of femininity. Black Conflux stirs up emotions that simmer, not often hitting home in the moment but lingering well beyond its runtime.

The great Ella Ballentine plays the film’s protagonist Jackie, who is at a place of questioning where she fits in the world and who she wants to be. She’s introduced singing Linda Perhaus’ “Hey, Who Really Cares?” in an audition for the school choir; a fitting choice for a character searching for her own voice and wanting to be heard. Ballentine does a wonderful job capturing the sort of fleeting interest Jackie has in choir; sometimes it becomes a faint afterthought as her mind is elsewhere, until the enthusiasm peaks and she’s rushing to be part of it again. Jackie quietly contemplates the push-and-pull of investing her energy in singing and hanging out with her more rebellious friends. Under the guardianship of her distracted aunt, Jackie doesn’t really have a steady figure in her life she can look to for guidance when needed. Part of what influences Jackie comes from the ongoing notion that no one can truly escape the small town they’re all living in. Within this setting, there are pressurized expectations of femininity that Jackie’s friends subscribe to, particularly Amber (Olivia Scriven) who adheres to an idea of what girls should be interested in. The very notion of Jackie being interested in choir is enough for Amber to question, why invest time in that when she could "have fun with boys".

Nicole Dorsey makes a point of contrasting two different perspectives in the film, one of Jackie and the other of a decrepit brewery worker. Dennis (Ryan McDonald), sexually repressed and often found staring intensely into the distance, constantly critiques his every move. He lives a solitary existence and, in the few times he interacts with women, wants to assert dominance. The film shows eerie misogynistic dream sequences where Dennis imagines a group of women by his side, without agency of their own, just in service to his thoughts. These are women he “messed up” his chances with. While the screenplay shows tendencies of letting character traits do the lifting, not entirely moving beyond the surface of who the characters are, McDonald does his best to give an effective performance. He plays the intensity fairly well, and gives off a deeply unsettling aura throughout the film.

By contrasting the perspectives of Jackie and Dennis, the film raises a resonating conversation around the harmful effects of toxic masculinity on womanhood and the acceleration of girls’ journeys into womanhood. On more than one occasion, Jackie is considered to be much older than she actually is, prompting the disturbing reality of teenage girls seen as grown women under the watchful eye of men. Meanwhile, Dennis’s behavior is often met with a “boys will be boys” attitude. His sister watches over him as though he’s still a child. His work buddies merely shake their heads when he bails on a date because of how a woman looked. Throughout the film, there are allusions that eventually Dennis and Jackie will meet, which fills the story with a sense of dread. Eerie imagery, such as fixating on Jackie watching a birdhouse and then cutting to a scene of Dennis drinking from a bird print mug, suggests an inevitable collision between the two characters. There are a few moments where Jackie will see Dennis drive by while out with her friends, their eyes randomly meeting for a second. These scenes capture the small town setting and also build uncertainty as to when the characters will meet, and what will happen.

The small town setting of 1980s Newfoundland, a rarely seen place in films, is captured beautifully. There’s a haunting quality to the sense of place in the film. The 80s are conveyed subtly, not at all overbearing or obviously neon. What Dorsey truly captures is the essence of a spot and the feeling of disillusionment, as though the characters are living in some sort of simulation. The film is a contemplative look at people in perpetual searching, not knowing how to break from their current existence and move on in a world of promise beyond them. Black Conflux slow builds in its exploration of characters going through the motions, and eventually seeing their worlds collide in unexpected ways. The story often sits in contemplation with them, which gives the film a sluggish pace posing the question, where is this going? More often than not, there’s a meandering quality to the film, and a lot of wondering of what Dorsey is ultimately saying. But once the no nonsense ending hits, what becomes crystalized is how much the director (and performers) are able to convey in moments of stillness. It’s the moments of stillness throughout the film, and those times where the characters engage in a daily routine thinking, “Is this it? Is this real?”, that carries Black Conflux to a converging conclusion. The ending, quiet and simple, calls into question if anything Dennis has experienced is real, and gives Jackie a sense of salvation where she’s not defined by anyone or any expectations. Dorsey gives reaffirmation to her protagonist, answering her choral calls.

Black Conflux will be available starting July 2nd on the Digital TIFF Bell Lightbox.  

‘Fear Street Part 2: 1978’ Review

July 7, 2021

The moment Samantha Fraser accidentally encountered Sarah Fier’s grave in Fear Street 1994, the writing was on the wall. With a centuries-old grip on the town of Shadyside, the witch’s whispering threats have claimed the souls of countless victims, their names carved onto the underground walls of Fier’s haunted cave to represent a nightmare set in stone. The writing was on the wall, and it was only a matter of time before Samantha would be in danger. Fulfilling the promise of more anticipatory mystery, Fear Street 1978 (Part 2) picks up where Part 1 leaves off, with Deena promising to get Sam back. To understand their conundrum in present-day, Deena and Josh revisit the past by approaching C. Berman (Gillian Jacobs), the only person to have seen the witch and lived to tell the tale. Berman’s story, which sees Deena and Josh huddled near her like listeners around a spooky campfire, takes Fear Street down a winding road to 70s horror.

Adapted from R. L. Stine’s best-selling books, Fear Street 1978 follows a group of teenagers, including Berman sisters Ziggy (Sadie Sink) and Cindy (Emily Rudd), at Camp Nightwing in Shadyside. School’s out for the summer, but when a Shadysider is possessed with the urge to kill, fun in the sun becomes a gruesome night for survival. Part 2 accelerates the Fear Street level of gore with a brutal series of axe murders that leave a disturbing trail behind. In addition to the horrific kills and eerie 70s atmosphere, Fear Street 1978 tells a resonating tale of two sisters grown apart who find a way to reconnect. The pair represents different perspectives of being a Shadysider; while Ziggy often falls into trouble and is considered an outcast by rival Sunnyvale kids, Cindy chases the myth of perfection to make the truth of her town disappear. Both are determined to see the world how they wish to see it, often resisting each other’s reasoning. Tough and quick to brush off what Sunnyvalers say about her, Ziggy leans fully into the witch’s curse as an explanation for why her life is the way it is.

Guided by a strong moral compass, Cindy rejects witchcraft “rumours” in favor of logical explanations. She’s fueled by her strong desire to be more polished and educated, in order to shed the reputation Shadysiders have as “crazy”. The curse is tied to a town she wants to get away from. While the two sisters don’t share a ton of screen time, the weight of their relationship is felt so deeply. Sadie Sink and Emily Rudd do a wonderful job conveying the friction between these characters, while also tapping into a layer of history hinting at how close they once were. At the emotional core of the film is Ziggy and Cindy’s relationship, which spirals in unexpected ways.

Working with co-writers Phil Graziadei and Zak Olkewicz, writer-director Leigh Janiak weaves camp slasher horror with strong character dynamics and a potent 70s vibe. Part 2 brings a lot more gore, spookier scares, and the eerie impulse to look over your shoulder when it's all over. As the majority of the film takes place at Camp Nightwing, Janiak builds onto the fear of being in an isolated setting and evokes the eerie ambiance of cabin fever. The sense of place is incredibly strong, and the use of setting is impressive. Janiak finds ways to incorporate so much of this campsite, and raises the stakes for characters with frightening scenarios at the hands of witchcraft.

Part 2 delves into deeper exploration of Sarah Fier’s lair, the potentiality of putting an end to the Shadyside curse, and how C. Berman’s never-ending nightmare truly begins. The story makes neat and cohesive connections to possessed characters that were introduced in Part 1, including Ruby Lane and the axe murderer. To further unravel the Fear Street mystery, 1978 introduces Mary Lane (Jordana Spiro), camp nurse and mother to Ruby. Nurse Lane, known by campers as the one whose daughter “went crazy,” firmly believes the witch’s curse is to blame for what Ruby did. The nurse has a sixth sense for the witch’s whispering threats and sees the writing on the wall. She knows who the next Shadyside victim will be.

Leigh Janiak’s adaptation excels at drawing out the witchy mystery just enough without killing anticipation for the final installment, which promises the origins of Sarah Fier’s curse. The groundwork is certainly being laid for Shadyside history to come full circle. Part 2 includes some striking visual echoes and a few twisty character reveals that recall moments from Part 1. The glowing tree planted in the 90s town mall is home to a sought-after key to the curse…one that Nurse Lane tried digging for, as the numerous X’s marked on her Camp Nightwing map indicate. 1978 also elaborates heavily on the axe murderer/Nightwing killer, a subtle homage to a hybrid of Jack Torrance and Leatherface, whose possession wreaks gory havoc on the campers. The killer unleashes during the biggest night of the summer, the ’78 Color War where Shadysiders and Sunnyvalers tag each other, putting counselors in a scramble to locate all the campers and bring them to safety.

Part 2 splits into various storylines and covers multiple campsite locations, which builds on fearful anticipation for what will happen next. It’s a great way to introduce new characters, and get to know more about the dynamics they share. Cindy, her former friend Alice (Ryan Simpkins) and their boyfriends Tommy (McCabe Slye) and Arnie (Sam Brooks) find themselves underground in search of clues to end the witch’s curse. Alice in particular is an intriguing character, masking sadness with a chaotic energy and exuding a fearless quality that she misses in Cindy. The two of them end up finding a lot more in common as the story progresses. Meanwhile, Ziggy is exploring a budding relationship with Nick (Ted Sutherland), whose role as one of the camp counselors raises eyebrows about boundaries being crossed. She also dodges the devious relentlessness of Sheila (Chiara Aurelia), the Sunnyvale queen bee who seizes any opportunity to bully Ziggy. Much like 1994, Fear Street 1978 incorporates memorable characters that drive the story to engaging places.

As demonstrated in Fear Street 1994, there’s an endearing and fun appreciation for the horror genre through references to iconic titles. What makes the references work so well is a combination of subtlety and application. 70s horror vibes shine through the dialogue, visuals, camera movement, characters, and soundtrack of Fear Street 1978. Leigh Janiak infuses homages in a myriad of thoughtful ways, and maintains her own clear vision in the process. Inspired by 70s and 80s summer camp slasher films, Part 2 creates a campsite design that feels secluded and almost illusionary in its sense of leisurely togetherness. The impending doom marks a countdown to insanely gruesome kills reminiscent of Friday the 13th (1980), and claustrophobic cave scenes that echo The Descent (2005). Part 2 also throws in neat references to Carrie (1976), visually with a prom-style trap and narratively with Ziggy’s supernatural reputation among the Sunnyvalers.

From the visuals to the spirited score and awesome soundtrack, Part 2 lays the setting of its era on well. The film builds on familiar horror elements and makes spooky use of secluded cabins in the woods. While Janiak succeeds at creating something of her own within the source material, the story falls into a few eye-rolling tropes often seen in horror movies. Elsewhere though, the Final Girl trope is refreshingly turned on its head. The film raises an interesting thought about the witch’s murderous scapegoat, and how this parallels a chase for perfection, for example. That no matter how much characters try to distance themselves from entertaining a Shadyside reputation, no matter how much they want to reach an idea of perfection, the truth of this town reaches from beyond the grave to shatter the illusion of escape.

For a second time, Leigh Janiak makes her mark in the horror genre with a distinct Fear Street adaptation and pays homage to classic titles without stumbling into carbon copy territory. Part 2 turns back the clock on Shadyside to explore a story of siblings, sacrifice, and uncovered secrets about the evil grip on the town that has C. Berman frozen in time. Fear Street 1978 hits the sweet spot of summer horror, incorporates a new group of memorable characters, and tells a resonating tale of two sisters. The filmmakers continue to find success by unleashing the fear on a weekly basis, this time around leaving room to savour the first two installments and anticipate the final chapter.

Fear Street Part 2: 1978 releases July 9th exclusively on Netflix at www.netflix.com/FearStreet.

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Future of Film Showcase (FOFS) 2021 Capsule Reviews

“Flower Boy is a bittersweet coming-of-age story that glows with good performances and a clear voice at the helm.”

July 12, 2021

Flower Boy is one of the 11 short films screening at the 2021 Future of Film Showcase (FOFS), a Canadian not-for-profit media arts organization presenting short films from Canadian filmmakers aged 40 and younger.

Filmed in a dreamy summer haze, Flower Boy captures the hopes and dreams of a teenager figuring out who he is. The short film, written and directed by Anya Chirkova, brings together characters in different moments of their lives. As August creeps in, Nav (Maziyar Khatam) forms an intimate bond with an audacious painter Sarah (Andrea Pavlovic) and a middle-aged laser tag owner Frank (David Richard). Just as he begins to find himself, summer inescapably comes to an end. Sarah is leaving for school to study visual arts. Frank, riddled with thwarted dreams of becoming a musician, is stuck at a dead-end job. Meanwhile, Nav is at a loss for what step to take next. He’s passionate about making music, but his work is not something he’s willing to share much with others. A cloud of uncertainty follows him around. He feels like he should be doing something and doesn’t have the answers, a deeply resonating sentiment that strikes at any age. Flower Boy touches on a universal theme of inner uncertainty, and how this often gets in the way of people figuring out what they want to do in life. Frank’s kernel of advice is to do the things that matter to you, be with the people that matter to you. Enjoy being alive. Sarah wants to see Nav blossom, for him to move as far away from laser tag as possible so as not to get stuck in a place of habitual comfortability.

The fact that the story of Flower Boy transpires over summertime, particularly when August creeps in, is a wonderful choice. When fall is not far around the corner, change is in the air. New beginnings are on the horizon, and the emotional response to change can often be a nostalgic one. There’s a wistfulness about the character of Nav. He often seems stuck in a daydream…pensive about how to make the next step with his music, how to maintain a blossoming but fleeting summer romance with Sarah. Anya Chirkova beautifully conveys this daydream quality through a sort of faded, blurring cinematography. She evokes that sleepy feeling after spending hours in the sun. Creating a vibe on screen is a challenge Chirkova is totally up for and delivers on. The story really evokes the feeling of reminiscing about a golden, special summer. One that ought to never end, because once it does (particularly for teenagers and young adults), what’s left is a heap of decisions waiting to be faced. Whether it’s related to school or finding a career, there’s a mounting pressure that comes with not knowing what direction to go in. This pressure is hovering just outside of Nav’s summertime experience, where he’s soaking up the sun with Sarah and coasting through a chilled-out job, but at the back of his mind is the anxiousness of not really having a plan.

Flower Boy is a bittersweet coming-of-age story that glows with good performances and a clear voice at the helm. The low-fi cinematography and ‘relax & unwind’ music add to a dreamy summertime quality. As someone who grew up in and around Toronto, the setting and place have an almost instantly recognizable quality, and this specificity also allows the story to reach a universal place. There’s a great deal of nostalgia surrounding the characters, particularly the protagonist. Nav is holding onto the heat of the moment, a glimmer of promise in bonding with Sarah and coming out of his shell a bit more, before having to face the inevitability of summer ending. The film beautifully explores the power of a meaningful connection, to someone or something, no matter how brief or fleeting.

The 8th annual Future of Film Showcase will be available to stream across Canada for free on CBC Gem from July 9 to 22, 2021. Visit www.FOFS.ca for the full short film lineup, which includes more women-led stories to discover.

“Sarah Swire and Tyson Coady gives startlingly great performances, making Parlour Palm feel all the more resounding in the messages conveyed.”

July 8, 2021

Parlour Palm is one of the 11 short films screening at the 2021 Future of Film Showcase (FOFS), a Canadian not-for-profit media arts organization presenting short films from Canadian filmmakers aged 40 and younger.

At the core of Parlour Palm is one woman’s descent into a climate crisis inspired, anxiety-fueled manic episode. Mel (Sarah Swire) lives with Bipolar Disorder. Her partner Brayden (Tyson Coady) is an overworked lawyer attempting to care for her. The two of them spend a lot of time in their parlour. From playful dinners and arguments to random casual activities, this one space in the house captures them day and night. Upon closer look, with more focus growing on Mel’s perspective as she reads the horrors of the world on a computer screen, she is nearing the brink of a breakdown. Directed by Rebeccah Love, this evocative film is a truly unforgettable portrait of living with Bipolar Disorder. Love explores a protagonist in existential crisis. From wildfires in California to billion-dollar corruption and greed, the weight of the world is resting heavily on Mel as she tries to cope with darting thoughts. With a 23-minute runtime, the film shines a light on grand discussions in a myriad of compelling and poignant ways.

Mel’s frame of mind drives much of the story, both intimately and from an outside perspective. The person Brayden says goodbye to before heading to work in the morning is in an entirely different mindset when he returns home. Love does an incredible job framing the narrative around how gradually drastic the changes in Mel’s personality become. The film patiently explores how the protagonist’s mind transitions into crisis mode, often sparked by a discussion on very real concerns about the state of the world. An interesting recurring theme is the love and care she gives to a new plant in her home. The idea of motherhood and taking care of a baby is a lot to bear; she just wants to take care of the plant. Mel is a character not often seen in mainstream films, or portrayed in a way that derives from a truthful foundation.

Parlour Palm brings a sense of openness and sensitivity not only to those who live with Bipolar Disorder, but also the loved ones who care for them. The challenges Brayden faces from seeing Mel experience terrifying symptoms, and his heightened emotions about not having the time nor energy to “deal with her,” bring a shattering layer to the story. Sarah Swire and Tyson Coady gives startlingly great performances, making Parlour Palm feel all the more resounding in the messages conveyed. With stunning camerawork and cinematography, Love makes striking use of a limited set. The performances shine in a character-driven piece, and bring to life a thoughtful portrayal of a disorder that needs more understanding.

The 8th annual Future of Film Showcase will be available to stream across Canada for free on CBC Gem from July 9 to 22, 2021. Visit www.FOFS.ca for the full short film lineup, which includes plenty more women-led stories to discover.

“This Is A Period Piece makes a charming impression and brings plenty of promise for what Bruna Arbux does next.”

July 8, 2021

This Is A Period Piece is one of the 11 short films screening at the 2021 Future of Film Showcase (FOFS), a Canadian not-for-profit media arts organization presenting short films from Canadian filmmakers aged 40 and younger.

Anyone who has their period can perhaps recognize the initial horror and insecurity around first experiences of menstruation. Personally, rolling around on my bedroom floor thinking the absolute worst, that life was over. The slight reluctance in saying this aloud is comforted by the open dialogue Brazilian filmmaker Bruna Arbex encourages in her short film. Given the plentiful resources readily available as cycle guides, the horror of not knowing what to do is even more deeply felt in the pre-Internet age. Arbex’s wickedly titled This Is A Period Piece tells the 90s-set story of Riley (Matreya Scarrwener), a 13-year-old tomboy confronting her fears of becoming a woman the night she gets her period for the first time. Arbex dabbles into the horror genre by showing a twisted version of what it means to approach womanhood. Finding the perfect bra, getting the perfect smile, and walking in heels become obstacle courses in a creepy hospital ward, a surreal place where Riley goes in her mind when her period starts. At the ward she meets devilish nurses and is played a tampon instruction video (guided by the neatly named Aunt Flo). The consensus that surrounds Riley’s first menstrual cycle is she’s now “crisp and clean,” all ready to impress all the boys. The film makes compelling use of the colour red in the hospital scenes. While surreal and stylized, these moments feel grounded in Riley’s perspective.

This Is A Period Piece is an endearing depiction of innocence and insecurity, as well as the spirited determination to push beyond stereotypes of what it means to be a woman in the world. Arbex creates a funny and entertaining narrative around the acceleration of young girls into womanhood, particularly when it comes to how they are pressured to look and behave a certain way from a young age. There’s a strong sense of independence in the character of Riley. Without her mother or any older female figures around to guide her, she relies on TV commercials that give her a materialistic view on womanhood. She finds her own voice among the noise and emerges from the nightmarish hospital ready to paint the town red, ready to conquer anything. Arbux addresses stereotypes surrounding womanhood and brings a lot of openness to a topic that young girls can often feel uneasy discussing publicly. The film includes a charming scene between Riley and her father having a reluctant period talk, where she assures him she can handle it herself. The delicacy that can overpower conversations around periods is met with a strong encouragement to keep the dialogue open. This Is A Period Piece makes a charming impression and brings plenty of promise for what Bruna Arbux does next.

The 8th annual Future of Film Showcase will be available to stream across Canada for free on CBC Gem from July 9 to 22, 2021. Visit www.FOFS.ca for the full short film lineup, which includes more women-led stories to discover.

“Wash Day brings expressive conversations to the forefront, and makes a lasting impact on redefining self-love as taking the time to love others.”

July 8, 2021

Wash Day is one of the 11 short films screening at the 2021 Future of Film Showcase (FOFS), a Canadian not-for-profit media arts organization presenting short films from Canadian filmmakers aged 40 and younger.

As they get ready for the day, three young Black women discuss the public perception of their Blackness in relation to finding a strong sense of self. Toronto-based writer and filmmaker Kourtney Jackson explores the private acts of washing one’s hair and body as the criterion for her film. Wash Day is an intimate love letter to navigating the politics of one’s outwardly appearance and redefining what it means to be beautiful. This film brings incredible focus to Black women’s perspectives on their appearances, and how harmful public perceptions affect their individualism. Jackson explores how intimate, domestic acts such as washing hair or putting on makeup in their homes become a significant re-acquaintance with the body. With the beautiful use of voiceover to echo strong sentiments, Wash Day highlights the complexities of self-love for Black women and vocalizes their internal thought processes before stepping into the world. The experimental cinematography and editing, also accomplished by Jackson, bring an intimate feeling to the film. In under 10 minutes, three in-depth glimpses into women’s lives make a profound impact.

Wash Day sparks meaningful discussions about the inwardly and outwardly relationships between Black women and their bodies. From putting on wigs as a form of self-expression, to learning how to take care of natural hair, to wearing baggy clothes and being perceived as an adult in childhood years, this film makes a stunning depiction of self-love as a lifelong process. The film is full of so many strong sentiments, including the distinction made between beauty and looking good. The last woman featured in particular speaks on getting into the practice of complimenting friends on their beauty, and recognizing layered meanings of the word “beautiful”. Beauty is also being genuine, honest, and unapologetic, moving towards a definition beyond physical appearance.

As well, Jackson incorporates the complexities Black women face about ownership. The second woman featured speaks on feeling she has no ownership over her body, and takes pride in a feature such as her hair, which people touch without any understanding or regard of her own personal dimension and space. The first woman featured speaks on her natural hair suddenly being a burden after transitioning, and the importance of feeling secure in her beauty element. Wash Day brings expressive conversations to the forefront, and makes a lasting impact on redefining self-love as taking the time to love others. Kourtney Jackson has a resonating voice, and her beautiful film is the highlight of the 2021 Future of Film Showcase.

The 8th annual Future of Film Showcase will be available to stream across Canada for free on CBC Gem from July 9 to 22, 2021. Visit www.FOFS.ca for the full short film lineup, which includes more women-led stories to discover.

‘Fear Street Part 3: 1666’ Review

July 16, 2021

Leigh Janiak’s sprawling adaptation of R. L. Stine’s Fear Street books unleashed not one, not two, but now three distinctly entertaining films, each successfully conveying the atmosphere of different time periods. What unites the three films is a coherent exploration of generational horror, and an unwavering focus on endearing characters. History repeating itself in Shadyside is a recurring theme that Janiak shines a light on in 1994 (Part 1) and 1978 (Part 2). Characters connect the dots between a series of brutal murders that have cursed their town for centuries. In Fear Street 1666, the third and final installment in her trilogy, history comes full circle on a night that changes the lives of Shadysiders forever. In this story, the origins of Sarah Fier’s curse are finally revealed in heartbreaking ways, with a shattering twist that speaks to where Janiak’s vision has been bubbling towards all along. Fear Street 1666 is a rollercoaster of emotions that sticks the landing, and blends 17th-century magic with a wicked origin story about systemic rot.

The gooey beating heart of evil, first uncovered through 1978 tunnel vision with an axe murderer on the loose in Part 2, has endured for centuries. Fear Street 1666 spirals down a path of twists and turns to uncover the origin of this evil, beginning with the character whose name has been whispered and weaponized among Shadysiders all this time: Sarah Fier. Set in the 17th-century town of Union, the film follows a reimagining of history from Deena’s point of view as she is gripped into Sarah’s shoes and lives out her past in order to figure out the truth. The creation of a dual role for Sarah Fier, Deena’s version and the real one (played by Elizabeth Scopel), is an interesting choice that speaks to some of the underlying messages of this story. The characters of Deena and Sarah are strong parallels to each other; here are two young women from different decades cast aside as “outsiders,” and feeling the weight of a systemic rot that has decided the trajectory of their futures. By understanding more about Sarah’s experiences, Deena is able to uncover the truth about the Shadyside curse and essentially be a part of retelling a mythology that had been manipulated for so many years. It is through Deena’s fearless protection for those she loves that drives her to see this journey to the end, and that is one of the most striking reasons why she’s a great protagonist to lead the way.

Fear Street 1666 blends historical detail with the dark magic elements of possession and supernatural forces. The production design and art direction evoke a sense of familiarity with many of the set pieces and locations, such as the tunnels surrounding the beating heart of evil. The colonial meeting house-turned summer camp cabin-turned shopping mall is a wonderful example of how continuity in setting gives the story a strong sense of place and adds effective detail to the location. Seeing the same place changed in the lens of different eras puts into perspective just how long the town of Shadyside has endured the curse. This centuries-old grip is also felt through the character of Deena, as she falls into Sarah Fier’s shoes and goes back in time to see what Sarah experienced at the hands of sinister forces. Adding to the 1600s setting are a sweeping score one would often find playing in period pieces, distinct costume designs fit for the era, plus the actors adopting 17th-century vernacular and accents. The film includes familiar faces from Parts 1 and 2 who step into new characters dressed in bonnets and loose jackets. Some of the recycled cast members are jarring at first, as are their attempts at the accents, but ease into the background once the story focuses more on Sarah/Deena and her relationship with the pastor’s daughter Hannah (Olivia Scott Welch).

Aside from some horrific moments throughout, one involving a possessed pastor in a meeting house, the slasher horror and gruesome kills that feature heavily in Parts 1 and 2 are scaled back in Part 3. Janiak explores more layers of the genre with generational and psychological horror that permeates on a systemic level. This is a thread she touches on particularly in Part 1 with conversations around who become the scapegoats of the Shadyside curse, often characters who are considered social outcasts. In planting those seeds early on, the twist of the film hits especially hard and is accompanied by a surprisingly poignant speech that defines truth as a curse. In exploring the origins of Sarah Fier’s curse, Janiak brings a reverberating poignancy to the story, particularly to the narrative of a young woman whose own trace in the world is twisted by a wicked search for power and prosperity. The film tackles a variety of issues from systemic oppression to abuse of power, all baked into the idea that this leads to the destruction of Shadysiders.

Working with co-writers Phil Graziadei and Kate Trefry, Janiak maintains strong character dynamics. She also weaves in engaging conversations around how horror elicits fear in different ways. Being haunted by the truth, for instance, is a big aspect of the film and more specifically the twist, a great subversion that takes the story to surprising places in a monstrous 90s neon-soaked rollercoaster of a final act. It’s by far one of the most entertaining sequences of the trilogy, a pure horror show that sees characters unite in the face of the walking dead. The pacing is also done exceptionally well so that the turn of events feels all the more unexpected, and there are just enough details spilled along the way to go back and rewatch the first two parts just for the thrill of rediscovering certain moments under a different lens.

Another resonating aspect of Part 3 is the parallel drawn between Sarah Fier and those she grips in her path. Characters such as Deena and Ziggy, for example, have shared what they’ve seen and are not believed by authority figures (whether it be by cops or camp counselors). They recognize Shadyside as the product of ongoing systemic destruction. It’s interesting food for thought that they see the witch, through the grip of her hand, more so Deena who gets further along in the journey to end the curse. Kiana Madeira does a wonderful job as Deena/Sarah; she conveys an unwavering passion as these characters. It’s palpable on screen that she brings her all to a fiercely protective protagonist, whose determination sees her through to a place where no one else has reached.

Filling up a strong cast are Olivia Scott Welch, who brings a different spirit to the character of Hannah and shows some range in comparison to Sam in Part 1. Gillian Jacobs has a bit more to do as Christine “Ziggy” Berman; her character sees a heartfelt arc that brings her out of the solitary existence she’s been living for decades as a result of the Camp Nightwing massacre. Another character thankfully given more screen time is Martin P. Franklin (Darell Britt Gibson), who has great comedic timing and gets to be one of the heroes. Ashley Zukerman has one of the most crucial tasks in his dual roles as Solomon Goode, who acts as Sarah Fier’s confidante, and a reprisal of Sheriff Nick Goode from Part 1. The performances are great on the whole, and especially compelling at portraying characters from a new perspective within multiple genres.

One of the thrills of watching Part 3 is to recognize visual and thematic echoes from the previous two installments. Janiak does a wonderful job of making the entire trilogy feel cohesive as she builds on a clear vision and returns to what has always been beating at its heartfelt core, the love story between Deena and Sam. Much of the Fear Street trilogy is anchored around this queer love story, and discovering new ways for how the narrative of a Shadyside nightmare 300 years in the making can be written around a relationship at the center. Part of what makes Deena and Sam well-written characters is that they are given the space not to be idyllic or “perfect”. They are unlikeable at times, make each other angry sometimes, and it’s interesting to watch the love/hate relationship established at the beginning of Part 1 continue to grow.

Fear Street 1666 conveys the nuances of Sarah Fier’s history, the painful revelation of her truth, and the mythology of why she holds a centuries-long grip on Shadysiders. The tactic of unleashing the fear in three installments has a clear vision behind it. Leigh Janiak reimagines the fun and gore of R. L. Stine’s world with a whole lot of spirit. She also tells a resonating story about the myth of Shadyside’s curse and the generational destruction left behind by a disturbing craving for legacy at all costs. The film spirals down a twisted path to uncover the root of evil in Shadyside, maintains a resonating love story as the core of this trilogy, and brings Shadyside back to a revitalized 90s chapter. Part 3 ends on a satisfying note with a wink of promise that perhaps there’s more to explore on Fear Street, hopefully with Leigh Janiak still at the helm.

Fear Street Part 3: 1666 releases July 16th exclusively on Netflix at www.netflix.com/FearStreet.

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‘Gunpowder Milkshake’ Review

July 23, 2021

Once women reach a certain age (40 and above) in Hollywood, they are deemed less valuable and less capable of leading a film. This antiquated belief embedded within the studio film industry has often seen young actresses cast in roles beyond their years. Meanwhile, the careers of countless older actresses decline in quality/opportunity or fade into oblivion, and it’s not because they suddenly stopped being talented. There’s an added pressure particularly on women in this youth-obsessed industry; not only is Hollywood infinitely less forgiving of their career missteps, but there are not nearly enough good roles that exist as they get older. Gunpowder Milkshake is an unfortunate example of just how often older women are cast away, relegated into window-dressing supporting roles that feel more like paper thin caricatures than human beings. With a cast that boasts absolutely incredible actresses such as Angela Bassett, Carla Gugino, Michelle Yeoh, and Lena Headey, it’s a travesty that these women are given so little to do. It’s a striking echo to the conversation that Karen Gillan is front and center. Talented in her own right, but woefully miscast and lacking the screen presence to carry this neon-lit action feature. As it turns out, the supporting cast are infinitely more interesting to watch.

Directed by Navot Papushado, who also co-wrote the script with Ehud Lavski, Gunpowder Milkshake is a film that exemplifies how men fail to grasp the complexities of well-written roles for women. The story centers on Sam (Karen Gillan), a professional assassin whose high-stake mission spins out of control and unleashes a gang war. Money is stolen from The Firm, the organization Sam works for, and her boss Nathan (Paul Giamatti) puts her on the case to retrieve it. Sam crosses the wrong people and decides to go rogue when an innocent 8-year-old girl gets caught in the crossfire. This leads her back to her mother Scarlet (Lena Headey) and former sidekicks Anna May (Angela Bassett), Madeleine (Carla Gugino), and Florence (Michelle Yeoh), as they all join forces against the men who took everything from them. The film is at its most enjoyable when they all get to kick some serious ass, particularly in the final act. But those moments are few and far between. The filmmakers squander the opportunity to use a great ensemble in favor of a generic, forgettable story and a severely dull protagonist.

Scarlet (Headey) has another thread in this story; she abandoned Sam at a young age and had been on the run for a long time, having kept her daughter in the dark on a secret dangerous life. That lifestyle has caught up to Sam, but far behind is the actress who plays her. One of the most disappointing aspects of the film is the casting of Gillan, who aces some strong action sequences but simply doesn’t register as a compelling character. The film centers on her point of view as she leads the way through dangerous scenarios, but the writing deflates any real tension or real stakes. While Gillan doesn’t bring much charisma herself, she’s also given very little strong material to work with. Sam is a cardboard cutout version of a character. She’s going through the motions, kicking ass when the time comes, but the lack of emotional investment in who she is ultimately hurts the film. Not that Sam needs to be an open book. But without any real way in to this character, it’s hard to find a hook to maintain interest throughout, especially considering her role as the protagonist. Once the story reveals more characters, and once Scarlet returns from a fifteen-year run, the missed opportunities of Gunpowder Milkshake start to crystallize.

The film leaves behind a lot more “if only’s” than it does admiration or interest in what’s actually unfolding on screen. One missed opportunity is not exploring the potentiality of where the energy could and should have been: Scarlet, or the trio of her former sidekicks-turned-“librarians” Anna May (Bassett), Madeleine (Gugino) and Florence (Yeoh), as the leads. Even with limited screen time and disappointing writing, these characters show far more compelling glimmers than anyone else in the film. Headey’s character is driven off in the opening scene of the film after a tense diner sequence, and takes the intrigue with her. Scarlet has ties to the most intriguing characters: the librarians. At the crossroads of the film, when Sam needs reliable sources of support, she pays a visit to the library for help. She sees a familiar face in Madeleine, who takes her into a majestic-looking hidden headquarters where Anna May and Florence step into frame. There’s a memorable scene when the trio go through Sam’s bag full of weapons while she talks in the background, but they’re far more concentrated on what’s in front of them. It's a great parallel to where the energy of this film perhaps should have gone towards: who are these librarians? Guns and various other weapons hidden in an Austen, a Brontë, a Woolf, and a Christie? A grand door with a stone lion on it that opens with the sound of a lion’s growl? Not only does this library have a stronger sense of place than the world outside of it, but it’s also where the most interesting characters live. To the film’s detriment, it’s also where they stay. Like everyone in this ensemble, Bassett, Gugino, and Yeoh aren’t given much to work with. They each do their best, and have memorable moments in the film with some fun action sequences. Even with stilted dialogue and lacking material, they know exactly how to command the screen. It’s enough to be wistful for more backstory on them and annoyed about these wonderful actresses getting the shaft.

While the story and protagonist leave a lot to be desired, there’s a lot of fun to be had with the milkshake aesthetics and neon-lit action sequences. One sequence in particular makes great use of a bowling alley; another brings out an electric western-style showdown. It’s entertaining to watch these women kick ass and have fun with engaging choreography. The library battle sequence is by far one of the highlights of Gunpowder Milkshake, as it incorporates much of what works best in the film: the most interesting characters, and a decent example of establishing setting. Outside of the library, the sense of place is nowhere to be felt. Where is the diner? Where is this story unfolding? The story feels like it moves from one constructed movie set to another, as though existing in a vacuum. The lack of clarity and specificity is in line with the generic storyline, where the stakes feel low. The score kicks in every now and then as a reminder of where tension ought to be felt.

Gunpowder Milkshake ultimately feels like a storyboard of a film, sprinkled with aesthetically pleasing moments and a talented ensemble but missing the key ingredients for a truly great time. Much of the disappointment lies in a screenplay chasing the energy of bad-ass moments without devoting enough time to the characters or crafting an interesting story to follow. What remains is a mixture of missed opportunities, including an ensemble of actresses whose talents are wasted and whose time on screen is derailed by far less compelling direction. As the story follows its lackluster protagonist to the end, one can’t help but ponder the possibilities of Scarlet and the librarians changing ingredients and leading this film to a far more satisfying place.

‘The Green Knight’ Review

August 1, 2021

Epic is the first word that comes to mind on first watch of David Lowery’s The Green Knight. The A24-produced film is a medieval tale told in a hypnotic trance. It’s an immersive experience that swirls in thought-provoking ideas and leaves plenty behind to digest. It’s also a deeply challenging experience to watch unfold. The Green Knight feels lightyears away from fully grasping, yet so incredibly intimate and confronting in nature. The story moves in bewitching ways, with mysterious magic reverberating from the screen. It’s a constant wonder where the film is going, which epitomizes the enigmatic quality of Lowery’s storytelling. He has the ability to craft an absorbing world that feels experimental and grounded at the same time. Lowery engages in so many interesting themes, from lust and chivalry to protecting the environment. With poetic symbolism and vivid cinematography, The Green Knight floats like a painting. It’s a complex tale of knighthood that questions how far one would go to uphold such a title and claim its responsibilities (and consequences). In a time when honor is everything and when courage makes kings, a fitting tagline, the protagonist’s desire to prove his worth to his kingdom drives a deep character journey through a medieval fantasy. 

Adapted from the 14th-century poem of the same name, The Green Knight follows the Arthurian legend of Sir Gawain (Dev Patel), the headstrong nephew of King Arthur (Sean Harris). After striking a mysterious gigantic tree creature known as The Green Knight (Ralph Ineson) in a sudden duel, Gawain agrees to embark on a quest one year later to confront the Knight, under one condition. The emerald creature is allowed to strike him back in the same manner that he imposed upon it. Does Gawain possess the courage to allow a pre-determined fate bestowed upon him? What will he do when met with mortality? In a test for the ages, Gawain stumbles into a realm of schemers, ghosts, a talking fox, and other mystical entities in his journey to face the ultimate challenger. The film is a stunning meditation on the inevitability of death, as well as how fragile and precious time on earth really is.

Gawain is a fascinating protagonist to lead this journey of self-discovery and defining one’s character in crucial moments. Gawain explores what it means to adopt knighthood; what are the responsibilities and consequences, what does the life of a knight look like, what does strength look like. The film is full of beautiful dreamlike sequences where he’s called upon to define his character. Each new mystical character introduced along the way to the Green Knight gives added depth to Gawain and powerfully reflects his own headspace. Are these characters a manifestation of his self-worth? Are they the visual embodiment of who he thinks a knight must collide with on the path to nobility and chivalry? The romanticism of Gawain’s journey, and the realization he comes to about real courage, is spellbinding to watch unfold. The film swirls in resonating ideas about the price of ambition, and the question of whether one can maintain a good-hearted nature in a lust for success. The final act in particular is a shattering epitome of the difference between playing a part and being true, between wanting the glory of a title and being ready to give oneself up to the mercy of a higher calling.

The character work in The Green Knight is an impressive achievement, not only with the protagonist but also the enigmatic supporting characters he collides with on his journey. The scheming Scavenger (Barry Keoghan) who weasels into frame with dubious curiosity, the regal Lady (Alicia Vikander) and scruffy Lord (Joel Edgerton) who welcome Gawain into their kingdom, Gawain’s Mother (Sarita Choudhury) keeping watchful eye back at Camelot. The Lord and Lady epitomize the more lustful aspects of the film, where a sensual love triangle is formed. In retrospect of watching the film, there is something slightly illusionary about these characters, as though they are being projected from Gawain’s own psyche. In any case, they each represent wildly different paths in Gawain’s quest to reach the Green Knight, one of the more interesting characters in the film. So much about the relationship between Gawain and the Knight brings up a resonating parallel to human beings vs. nature. In this tale, nature strikes back against the damage humans have so brazenly inflicted upon the earth. Gawain is at the mercy of nature, as he is with the inevitability of mortality. All the while tries to hold onto a sense of goodheartedness in his chosen path to knightly success.

David Lowery maintains an incredible sense of curiosity from beginning to end; the story goes to earthy, mysterious places that feel wondrous and unexpected. Gawain’s disillusionment of trying to follow a path to greatness while being at mercy to a higher power is captured so well on screen. The pacing of the film feels like a puzzle, without the frustration of looking to piece everything together all at once. The Green Knight is a beguiling story to follow. There are many interesting moving parts to unpack and digest. The film leaves behind a strong desire to return to this mythical world for more, thanks in large part to the actors Lowery has assembled and the atmosphere that has been so beautifully crafted. With a mighty performance by Dev Patel, the character of Gawain is brought to life so vividly. His curiosity and sheer ambition for honor are such a treat to watch. As well, the ruinous depths his character falls into in the final act of the film are a staggering display of Patel’s talent. His work is a wonderful embodiment of the internalized journey Gawain goes on, from romanticizing his quest to being overwhelmingly humbled by nature.

The supporting cast turn in solid performances and most make a memorable mark, notably Alicia Vikander as Lady and Sean Harris as King Arthur. Most of all, the stunning voice work by Ralph Ineson as the titular Knight. His voice really brings the character to another level and commands the screen. Adding to the enchanting experience of the film are strong mystical characters, from a talking fox and headless ghost to giants in the sky. As well, Daniel Hart’s haunting score which kicks in at the most fitting times, and the absolutely beautiful cinematography by Andrew Droz Palermo. Every frame looks like a painting.

The film is a hypnotizing, striking tale of honor in which there is plenty to unpack and ruminate on. Lowery’s adaptation of a rich text brings magic to the story that feels endlessly full of new discoveries and interpretations. There’s a strangely inviting quality to this film; the story has a magnetic pull and fires on all cylinders. With strong performances, stunning cinematography, and an evocative score, the story comes alive as a fascinating study of character. The Green Knight is an unforgettable psychological tale of medieval times, casting a bold spell and maintaining its enchantment. 

‘Materna’ Review

August 10, 2021

“I drink to the ruined house, to the evil of my life, to our loneliness together, and I drink to you.”

This excerpt from Anna Akhmatova’s poem, The Last Toast, suggests overwhelming defeat. A toast to succumbing on a path of loneliness and strained relationships. An abrupt finality of hopes and dreams. The poetry of The Last Toast is a fitting way for writer-director David Gutnik to introduce his feature directorial debut. Materna is a multi-stranded psychological portrait of four women who are experiencing inner turmoil. Making use of an anthology format, their stories are woven together by an incident on the New York City subway. A fateful encounter they all happen to witness puts their futures and all hope of personal transformation at stake. As glimpses of the underground plot cut in and out, the film spends time on each of the four women, strangers to one another but embodying themes that are universal. Their distinct inner worlds and emotional journeys bring some intriguing perspectives to the screen. While the film feels disjointed at times, the actors do the heavy lifting to make this character-driven piece worth the ride as it builds to an unsettling conclusion.

Materna showcases an incredibly talented cast of actors, each of whom personifies various perspectives of self-actualization. Jean, Mona, Ruth, and Perizad lead radically different lives across NYC. Jean (Kate Lyn Sheil) lives alone, works for a visual effects company, and has a complicated relationship with her mother. Mona (Jade Eshete) is a working actor who, feeling the stress from a distant relationship with her mother, channels her emotions into monologues. Ruth (Lindsay Burdge) and her family carry ignorant beliefs and bigotry in a hotbed of conversations over the dining room table. Perizad (Assol Abdullina) returns home after the death of her uncle, and discovers a family truth that her grandmother has kept hidden. The film observes a slice of the women’s worlds before they hop onto the subway. Each slice feels like its own fully realized narrative, shown one after another like a series of short films while the subway plot builds in between. One of the benefits of seeing Materna play out as an anthology is hearing the voices of different performers. Eshete and Abdullina, who are also co-writers on the film, bring so much conviction to their characters and shine as the standouts of the cast.

While the anthology format opens up a world of different perspectives, some stories are naturally more interesting than others. Mona and Perizad’s segments resonate the most, while Jean and Ruth’s segments wear on too long and feel contrived. The separated storylines drag down the pacing of the film as a whole. Each one also works best independently of one another, rather than joined narratively in orbit around the subway incident. As disjointed as the interconnected storylines feel, there are a lot of intriguing ideas at play. One of the constant threads in the film surrounds loss in motherhood, whether it be the loss of a child, the loss of a thriving mother-daughter relationship, the loss of morality and teachings. All the while, characters who appear to be a lost cause are trying to regain hope, even if just for a moment. When Jean has a traumatic experience, she instinctively calls her mother, but can’t bring herself to say anything on the line. When Mona reaches out to her mother, she hopes to finally be met halfway. The title of the film makes an interesting implication that in this story, the feelings typically associated with a mother or being motherly are missing. Instead of focusing on the quintessential adjectives of a maternal relationship (warm, tender, kind nurturing, gentle), Materna explores another side to motherhood that is a difficult and draining reality for many.

The title Materna also evokes a digitized quality and speaks to the over reliance of technology, not only for primary source of communication but as a substitution for face-to-face relationships. Jean and Mona in particular have relationships with their mothers that exist strictly over phone calls and texts. David Gutnik sparks interesting discussion about the solitude that can come with technology, and how digital forms of communication become almost like the final thread that hold long-distance or strained relationships together. In these instances where there’s so much to lose, the weight of every conversation is felt so deeply. The film really gives all the actors space to bring the characters to life for a brief moment in time. Materna is a character-driven drama about the spaces between words; what’s left unsaid between people, the frustration of not being met halfway, the difficulty of revealing true selves, how loss shapes the dynamic of relationships. There’s a stunning scene in Perizad’s storyline, where three generations of women are linked arm in arm as they share in an emotional moment without saying a word. For the most part, the actors certainly do the heavy lifting in the film; the intertwining stories would fall apart without the nuance of their performances.

Beyond the four women’s stories is a recurring plot that takes place on the NYC subway, where a man harasses some of them directly and creates an increasingly hostile environment. There are mixed emotions in watching their stories framed around the actions of this man. While the intertwining narratives don’t fully click together, again there are a lot of interesting ideas at play underneath it all. The man on the subway embodies an essentially one-note performance, whose every moment in frame is spent interjecting and invading women’s personal space. It’s a thoughtful reflection of how women’s experiences and thoughts are so often undermined by men who assert dominance. The subway setting is a strong embodiment particularly of women who are carrying the complexities of their worlds, while also being women on the subway: subjected to relentless harassment by men.

Materna explores interesting themes through the lens of different perspectives, and makes good use of setting. Beyond the interconnectedness of the subway, the film explores people’s personal spaces and how they navigate them when no one else is around. What do they feel comfortable doing in the privacy of their homes, and how does that facilitate a sense of loneliness? The contrast between facing personal challenges and pulling one’s self together in public is a distinct feeling that the film captures well. Materna delves into psychological portraits, some far more resonating than others, about strained family matters and personal growth. While the buildup on the subway leads to an underwhelming conclusion, this feature directorial debut shows promise as a solid character-driven story.

‘CODA’ Review

August 11, 2021

Get a box of tissues ready for writer-director Sian Heder’s heartwarming film CODA, a coming-of-age story full of lived-in family dynamics that aren’t often represented on screen. Based on the 2014 French film The Bélier Family, CODA instantly improves upon its source of narrative inspiration by casting Deaf actors (including Marlee Matlin, Troy Kotsur, and Daniel Durant) in the roles of Deaf characters. Heder portrays the Deaf community with rich emotional journeys and a broad range of traits, championing their perspectives in a compassionate way. At the core of this film is the love language of a family, specifically the Rossi’s and all the qualities that make them who they are. CODA is a thoughtful, impeccably acted journey about the intimacy of family connections.

Set in the blue-collar fishermen world in Cambridge, Massachusetts, CODA incorporates elements shared and not shared between the hearing and the Deaf community. The story follows Ruby Rossi (Emilia Jones), a child of Deaf adults who is the only hearing person in her home. She wakes up early every morning to catch fish with her father Frank (Troy Kotsur) and brother Leo (Daniel Durant). She goes to school, hangs out with her friend Gertie (Amy Forsyth), has a crush on Miles (Ferdia Walsh-Peelo), and on a spur of the moment joins the choir. Music is Ruby’s lifeline. Whether she’s singing along to songs on her family’s boat, adding a soundtrack to her bike ride, or making use of the record player in her bedroom, music is around in resonating little details. In a sea of pretty voices with nothing to say, Ruby’s music teacher Mr. V, formally Bernardo Villalobos (Eugenio Derbez), spots her real talent. She has a lot to convey, and does so with a stunning singing voice. Mr. V urges her to perform a duet with Miles and audition for a prestigious music school in Boston. Her passion for singing is something her parents, including mother Jackie (Marlee Matlin), are trying to connect with. Then when the family’s business is threatened, Ruby finds herself torn between family obligations and her dedication to music.

Ruby is a refreshingly written character in the canon of formulaic coming-of-age films. The push-pull dynamic between following her passion and being present to support her parents is rooted in sincerity. Rather than antagonize her family and create a one-note narrative, CODA explores the grey areas in creating an identity apart from one’s family. The film focuses on the stage of Ruby’s life where, for the first time, she’s on the cusp of doing something without her family. All the complex emotions that come with this responsibility are conveyed with ease by Emilia Jones. She does a remarkable job carrying the film and giving a window into the soul of her character, who has a lot on her shoulders as an interpreter. Ruby’s family count on her to voice what they sign for the hearing world, a world that is not often facilitative of Deaf culture. The film gives a voice to many perspectives from the family; not only Ruby who feels that her stuff is important too, but also Leo for instance, who stresses he’s capable of navigating the hearing world without her. He wants the family to finally be part of their community, and sees the potential of starting their own fishing business as a great opportunity to interact with others.

Sian Heder writes complex, well developed characters full of personality and disposition. The actors add an incredible depth to the Rossi family; each of their performances are lived-in and rich in detail. Simply watching the family interact with one another is an integral part of what makes the film so charming. It’s an instantly feel-good story that invites a wholesome look into how the Rossi family communicate with each other, the warmth of their home life, and how this setting facilitates a sense of togetherness where they’ve become such a tight-knit unit. The stories that happen inside Deaf people's homes are missing from representation in film and television. So often, Deaf characters are solely defined by being Deaf, and their narratives are not centered. It’s wonderful to see a film that is pushing for authenticity on screen. Also watching how Frank, Jackie, and Leo navigate the hearing world is equally compelling, as Heder shines a light on many of the ways in which this world is not inclusive of Deaf culture. There is both a specificity and universality to how the family are depicted.

Adding to the lived-in quality of these characters is an outstanding ensemble of actors who deliver such resonating performances. Everyone in the Rossi family has their moment to truly shine and provide a window into their characters’ interior lives. Troy Kotsur in particular is an incredibly expressive actor, and he has some of the most moving scenes in the story as Ruby’s father Frank. He has a stunning moment with Emilia Jones towards the end of the film where, having returned home after a school concert, Frank gently holds Ruby’s neck to feel the reverberations of her vocals as she sings to him personally. Emotional moments such as this, sprinkled throughout the film, convey how CODA is less about a musical journey and more about a family understanding each other. The intimacy of Frank sitting with his daughter, in an embrace as he tries to understand her passion, comes from a genuine place and that is what makes the film so emotionally resonating. Speaking of loving embraces, Jackie shares a similar scene with Ruby in terms of finding a way to connect. As Jackie sits on her daughter’s bed, thinking about the day she was born and revealing initial worry that they wouldn’t connect, so much is said about these characters. Sian Heder finds gems of moments in vulnerable, intimate, comforting places, and the actors go on this search with her. Marlee Matlin gives a fantastic performance, so full of energy and longing. Daniel Durant is also great as Ruby’s brother Leo; he too gets a resonating moment to shine. Durant strongly conveys the frustration bubbling underneath the surface about how Ruby’s hesitance to follow her dreams has an effect on the family. CODA has a stellar ensemble of actors beyond the Rossi family, from Eugenio Derbez and Ferdia Walsh-Peelo to Amy Forsyth, all of whom are entertaining to watch.

The coming-of-age genre is riddled with cliches and trappings that plenty of films fall into. While CODA feels a little formulaic at times, setting up the story to reach certain emotional heights, Sian Heder does a great job subverting a lot of expectations. Music is an integral part of the story; the soundtrack is lovely, as is Emilia Jones’ singing voice, especially in her big audition scene with Joni Mitchell's 'Both Sides Now'. Music also doesn’t command the focus. At the core of CODA is a family; how do they communicate, how do they connect or not connect, how do they share or not share in each other’s experiences. Rather than relegate the protagonist’s family to cheer from the sidelines, they are actively involved in the story. Ruby and Miles’ duet for their school concert is a winning example; this scene could have easily become Ruby’s star moment. Heder re-centers the focus onto Frank and Jackie sitting in the audience; how are they experiencing the concert. How do they navigate the space of a hearing community and find a connection with their daughter on stage? Whether it’s this scene, or an emotional final act that brings on the heavy sobs, all these moments emphasize the Rossi family’s love language as the beating heart of the film.

CODA is full of heart. It’s an uplifting story about family obligations and following your own path while wrestling with the guilt of being away from your family, particularly for the first time. Sian Heder’s winning screenplay, and an outstanding ensemble of actors who lift her words off the page, is a love letter to family. The film gives an immersive window into the Rossi home and all the details that make up their tight-knit dynamics. Right down to the set design details and the creation of an overall home that looks lived-in, everything feels rooted in depictions that feel passionately true. Moving and impeccably acted, CODA makes a reverberating impact as a thoughtful piece of work.

CODA will be released on Apple TV+ starting August 13th.