Here’s a secret about my festival experience—I plan
obsessively. I draft and re-draft schedules, trying to find the best possible
itinerary that hits the most anticipated films and gets me to what I want to
see. At a festival the size of TIFF, there are so many movies to see at any
given moment—sometimes around 20 when one factors in public and press
screenings—that the sheer number of potential screening schedules can drive you
insane. I have colleagues who approach festivals with a much more-relaxed, “what’s
playing now” approach, and I’m jealous they can do that. My brain doesn’t work
that way. I’d worry too much about what I’d miss. Having said that, things
happen. A film you were planning to see may premiere to nothing but eye-rolls,
making you aware that it’s not going to be a required viewing. Conversely, something you weren’t planning to
see might blow up. That happened to me with two films this year, both driven by
committed actresses, while a third film suddenly became incredibly timely.
I was a fan of Pablo Larraín’s “No” and “The Club,” but I
wasn’t prepared for “Jackie.” Natalie Portman plays Jackie Kennedy in the
weeks after her husband’s death. Larraín and screenwriter Noah Oppenheim
intercut between several key conversations in this period. We see Jackie
and a journalist (Billy Crudup) a couple weeks after the assassination; the
immediate aftermath of the shooting; discussion of funeral arrangements with
Bobby Kennedy (Peter Sarsgaard); a philosophical meeting with a priest (John Hurt); and
even a flashback to a TV segment that Jackie did in which she allowed viewers
to tour the White House. What may sound disjointed is anything but, although
you should know that this is no standard biopic. Its thematic density and
narrative goals are much higher than any sort of then-this-happened production. It is a film about how grief and legacy are impacted by the brightest spotlight in the world.
Larraín’s vision of Jackie Kennedy is that of a woman who
was keenly aware of her husband’s place in history. The TV segment details her
efforts to restore the legacy of the White House through antiques, furniture,
etc. around the building. She knew that history was being written in her
husband’s presidency, and the assassination forced a realization that she was
now writing the final chapters of that history. So there’s a lot of discussion
of processions, funeral arrangements, legacy, etc. This is a Jackie refusing to
let the final image of her husband be that of his brains splattered across a
car. And yet while she’s trying to wrest control of this situations, she’s also
a mother dealing with unimaginable grief. Portman balances the two halves of
Jackie brilliantly, altering the incredible degree of control that Jackie had
in personal dynamics depending on who she talks to. Watch how she acts
differently with a religious figure than a political one or a journalist. Much
more will be written about “Jackie” but know for now that it’s one of the best
films of 2016.
Another film earning raves at TIFF—to such a degree that
Roadside Attractions went and nabbed it for domestic release—is William Oldroyd’s
brutal “Lady Macbeth,” a powerful
adaptation of Nikolai Leskov’s “Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District,” which became
a famous opera by Shostakovich. Theatre directors often make the transition to
film with their stage roots too openly on display but Oldroyd makes this piece
with limited characters and sets still feel remarkably cinematic. The film has
an undeniably strong source material from which to work—with its commentary on
female roles in 19th-century England and enough twists and turns to
satisfy any viewer—but it’s mainly because of the central performance by
Florence Pugh that the film connects as completely as it does.
Pugh plays Lady Katherine, a young woman basically sold into
a loveless marriage in Victorian England. Her husband is an awful, cold man,
the kind who tells her never to leave the house. Lady Katherine starts to get
anxious. She goes for walks when he’s gone. She defies the orders of her awful
father-in-law. And then she begins an affair with a servant named Sebastian
(Cosmo Jarvis) that leads to, shall we say, Shakespearian activities. Oldroyd’s
film may be set centuries ago but it is filled with modern emotion—including lust,
betrayal and a heroine who defies the standards of her day. “Lady Macbeth” is
one of those films few of us saw coming before this year’s TIFF, but ended up
being one of the great World Premieres of this year’s event.
Finally, there’s a documentary that gained traction at TIFF
this year through the actions of someone who had nothing to do with it. When
Colin Kaepernick refused to stand for the National Anthem, it raised the conversation
about what role athletes play in social protest and how disturbing it can be to
watch large groups of fans respond to such civil disobedience with anger and
racial hatred. Maya Zinshtein’s “Forever
Pure” tells a startling story about mass protests against a football team
in Israel. The documentary itself is a little too by-the-numbers for my taste
and I couldn’t shake the feeling that it’s just a great “60
Minutes” segment stretched to feature-length. But the story here is certainly
memorable, especially when one considers the increasingly proprietary nature of
fandom around the world. Fans no longer feel like they should be passive
participants in something—they feel like they own it.
Such was the case for the loyal fans of the Beitar Jerusalem
Football Club, one of the most beloved and successful soccer teams in Israel.
Zinshtein opens her film with hundreds of fans singing about how much they love
Beitar. Those same fans would later sing racial epithets after the club signed
two Muslim players from Chechnya in 2012. The fan base of Beitar, known as La
Familia, protested in increasingly angry and threatening ways, first walking
out when a Muslim player scored, and then refusing to even show up to watch the
team they claimed they would love for life. “Forever Pure” becomes increasingly
frustrating as one watches how these kinds of movements build momentum. Silent
walk-outs eventually become chants of “We are the most racist team,” as if it’s
something to be proud of. In a year in which we have seen all over the world
how easily a spark can turn into a fire of hatred, “Forever Pure” should serve
as a cautionary tale about how we must work together to avoid the blaze.
