Another year at the Toronto International Film Festival comes to a close, my screen-time is through the roof, and my brain is exhausted from having too many negative opinions. Already published are reviews for my festival favourite, Sean Baker’s Anora, the biggest disappointment, Jason Reitman’s Saturday Night, and some quasi-hot takes on The Last Showgirl and The Substance. Rather than torturing myself and grinding out half-assed reviews for all 16 movies I watched, a sort of lightning round seems more appropriate. Without further adieu, here is our TIFF Curtain Call: a succinct and to-the-point selection of mini-reviews. *in alphabetical order*
The Assessment (dir. Fleur Fortuné)
If I had a nickel for every time Alicia Vikander starred in a three-hander film set in the near-future wherein the societal craving for companionship is at an all time high and she appeared innocent at first but quietly held the power to forever change the course of the protagonist’s lives, I’d have two nickels! I couldn’t help but draw comparisons between The Assessment and Ex Machina, but that doesn’t take away from the impressive and compelling feature film debut by Fleur Fortuné. Vikander plays an ‘Assessor’ sent by the ‘New World’ government to determine whether or not a couple is suitable to bear children. Elizabeth Olsen and Hamish Patel portray the ordinary—albeit boring—pair that are desperate for purpose, which they think would be raising a kid in a post-apocalyptic world with scarce resources. The highly conceptual story fails to see itself through to the end, where the main characters we’ve gotten to understand make inexplicable decisions. Concluding the narrative before it got to that point could have resulted in an impactful and bleak finale.
All that being said, it feels wrong to pick apart the small issues ladened throughout the film, like predictable turning points or monologues of exposition from side characters, because overall it’s an astonishing feat for a debut. I can only hope our coming dystopia has the same aesthetic, post-modern interior design laced with Memphis and Nordic style decorum. Could it have been a Black Mirror episode? Yes, but some of those are really good!
Bird (dir. Andrea Arnold)
Andrea Arnold’s latest feat, Bird, is pure festival fare—gritty, indie, equal parts laughter and tears, brimming with existential dread and childlike wonder. Making Barry Keoghan the poster-boy for the film is a smart tactic, as his newly cemented spot on the A-list thanks to Saltburn and Sabrina Carpenter will very likely fill theatre seats, but really he’s only a tertiary character. Keoghan plays a classic council house dweller named Bug, living life rough on the outskirts of England, a physically present but barely there father to two teenagers. His main role is to bring some comedic relief to an otherwise downtrodden tale, often shown riding his electric scooter with Fontaines DC or Blur playing. Music actually plays a huge part in the film as well in Bug’s life, with Keoghan shining in the best song and dance sequences of his career (that’s a dig at Saltburn, btw).
The centrepiece of the movie is Bailey, Bug’s daughter, played by young Nykiya Adams who shines in her acting debut. Bailey has to try and keep a firm grip on to her youth while her surroundings force her to grow up. As the title may suggest, the movie takes a Birdman-esque dive into the surreal, with Franz Rogowski’s vagabond and ethereal character sure to tug at your heartstrings. Much more endearing than Andrea Arnold’s previous animal-titled projects like Dog or Fish Tank, Bird offers her usual bleak slice of life but intertwined with magical realism and divine optimism. Not only a standout from TIFF, but one of the best of the year.
The Brutalist (dir. Brady Corbet)
For the small amount of people that have seen The Brutalist before its wide release seem to worship at its very altar—comparing it to The Godfather and There Will Be Blood. Can we collectively chill? Not every meditative drama about a man who is deeply troubled and shrouded by ego is a masterpiece. Director Brady Corbet (who is better known for his acting roles in Thirteen, Mysterious Skin, and Funny Games) said that the general premise of the film is, “about a character who flees fascism only to encounter capitalism.” Adrien Brody stars as his Pianist character’s tether, László Toth—a Hungarian-Jew and talented architect who survived the Holocaust and is granted refugee status to America, where he lands a job for a wealthy Pennsylvanian patriarch (Guy Pearce). Corbet and Mona Fastvold’s script lays out a cogent metaphor for execration through the western aversion to Brutalist architecture.
At 215 minutes, the runtime isn’t the issue (spare me the ‘too long’ debate). The expansive 70mm visuals, shot by Lol Crawley, and Daniel Blumberg’s haunting score are captivating enough to keep you awake. I’ll side with the majority on one thing, The Brutalist is a monumental technical achievement, especially on a sub-$10million budget. Corbet, having absorbed lessons from modern masters like Michael Haneke and Lars Von Trier, is surely destined to create impactful and resonant films. However, The Brutalist’s fatal flaw is with the way it wishes to present itself as a masterpiece, stuffed with grandiosity that is hard to ignore. It takes a hard nosedive after the 15-minute intermission, attempting to unpack the mythology of the ‘Great Man,’ only to become less ambitious than the hero himself. The epic scale begs for something deeper, something insurgent. But at it’s core, beyond the arduous efforts, the central theme of The Brutalist is too simple and too conventional to call for all this fuss and adornment. Aww, the American Dream is dead? We know!
Friendship (dir. Andrew DeYoung)
I was gob-smacked to find out that the writer/director of Friendship, Andrew DeYoung, has no involvement in I Think You Should Leave. Sure, Tim Robinson stars, but he didn’t make it—so why does it feel like a 97-minute ITYSL sketch? That’s complimentary, every fan of the show stays hungry for more after the 20-or-so-minute episodes conclude. It’s essentially second-hand embarrassment personified, again, complimentary. Friendship is the natural next step in the Tim Robinson Cinematic Universe. It provides everything a sketch cannot—a through-line narrative, high stakes, and fully realized characters. On the other hand, it falls into the same trap as most sketch-turned-feature films do by losing steam in a few places. That’s the only real complaint in an otherwise refreshingly original and absurdist comedy that will have your cheeks hurting from laughter.
Friendship is hard to summarize, other than its most basic premise of Robinson’s character desperately seeking a friend in the cool, new neighbour and local weatherman Austin Carmichael, played by Paul Rudd (who also produced the film, so clearly needed an outlet to let his freak flag fly). Besides that guiding our way, the film takes nonsensical twists and turns into the best places, including a date in the sewers, a drug trip sequence for the ages, and a guy named Jimp (like jump with an i). A24 just announced that they acquired the film out of its world premiere at TIFF, and I for one am excited for the overpriced merch they will release with Robinson’s beautiful silhouette on full display.
Babygirl (dir. Halina Reijin)
This review is being written with shaking hands and foam dripping from my mouth. Babygirl is the hyper-sexual drama the world is not ready for—once it’s released, I suggest watching it at home, alone, bedside table drawer at arm’s length. Nicole Kidman plays Romy, the CEO of some kind of tech, AI or Amazon type company (truly doesn’t matter). We are introduced to her character scurrying off to masturbate mere seconds after her husband (Antonio Banderas) finishes inside her. Romy’s thirst for being dominated and thrown around is palpable from the jump, enter Harris Dickinson. If you’ve been paying attention recently and watched titles like Triangle of Sadness, A Murder at the End of the World, or The Iron Claw, you are probably already familiar with Dickinson’s game. But if you thought he would be playing the innocent beta, taken advantage of by an older and powerful girlboss, you are in for a treat. Writer and director Halina Reijin turns the tables, spinning the age-gap tale of power imbalance on its head.
I probably shouldn’t give too much away, it’s best to go in blind(folded). Trust that the film’s unexpected levels of smut will be all the more thrilling if you experience them without any preconceived ideas, but here are some vague teasers to get you excited—a saucer of milk, a feral dog, molly water. While Babygirl doesn’t reinvent the wheel when it comes to erotic-affair-thrillers, it nails the raw vulnerability of female pleasure with never-before-seen, dripping wet, reckless abandon.
Bird (dir. Andrea Arnold)
Andrea Arnold’s latest feat, Bird, is pure festival fare—gritty, indie, equal parts laughter and tears, brimming with existential dread and childlike wonder. Making Barry Keoghan the poster-boy for the film is a smart tactic, as his newly cemented spot on the A-list thanks to Saltburn and Sabrina Carpenter will very likely fill theatre seats, but really he’s only a tertiary character. Keoghan plays a classic council house dweller named Bug, living life rough on the outskirts of England, a physically present but barely there father to two teenagers. His main role is to bring some comedic relief to an otherwise downtrodden tale, often shown riding his electric scooter with Fontaines DC or Blur playing. Music actually plays a huge part in the film as well in Bug’s life, with Keoghan shining in the best song and dance sequences of his career (that’s a dig at Saltburn, btw).
The centrepiece of the movie is Bailey, Bug’s daughter, played by young Nykiya Adams who shines in her acting debut. Bailey has to try and keep a firm grip on to her youth while her surroundings force her to grow up. As the title may suggest, the movie takes a Birdman-esque dive into the surreal, with Franz Rogowski’s vagabond and ethereal character sure to tug at your heartstrings. Much more endearing than Andrea Arnold’s previous animal-titled projects like Dog or Fish Tank, Bird offers her usual bleak slice of life but intertwined with magical realism and divine optimism. Not only a standout from TIFF, but one of the best of the year.
The Brutalist (dir. Brady Corbet)
For the small amount of people that have seen The Brutalist before its wide release seem to worship at its very altar—comparing it to The Godfather and There Will Be Blood. Can we collectively chill? Not every meditative drama about a man who is deeply troubled and shrouded by ego is a masterpiece. Director Brady Corbet (who is better known for his acting roles in Thirteen, Mysterious Skin, and Funny Games) said that the general premise of the film is, “about a character who flees fascism only to encounter capitalism.” Adrien Brody stars as his Pianist character’s tether, László Toth—a Hungarian-Jew and talented architect who survived the Holocaust and is granted refugee status to America, where he lands a job for a wealthy Pennsylvanian patriarch (Guy Pearce). Corbet and Mona Fastvold’s script lays out a cogent metaphor for execration through the western aversion to Brutalist architecture.
At 215 minutes, the runtime isn’t the issue (spare me the ‘too long’ debate). The expansive 70mm visuals, shot by Lol Crawley, and Daniel Blumberg’s haunting score are captivating enough to keep you awake. I’ll side with the majority on one thing, The Brutalist is a monumental technical achievement, especially on a sub-$10million budget. Corbet, having absorbed lessons from modern masters like Michael Haneke and Lars Von Trier, is surely destined to create impactful and resonant films. However, The Brutalist’s fatal flaw is with the way it wishes to present itself as a masterpiece, stuffed with grandiosity that is hard to ignore. It takes a hard nosedive after the 15-minute intermission, attempting to unpack the mythology of the ‘Great Man,’ only to become less ambitious than the hero himself. The epic scale begs for something deeper, something insurgent. But at it’s core, beyond the arduous efforts, the central theme of The Brutalist is too simple and too conventional to call for all this fuss and adornment. Aww, the American Dream is dead? We know!
Friendship (dir. Andrew DeYoung)
I was gob-smacked to find out that the writer/director of Friendship, Andrew DeYoung, has no involvement in I Think You Should Leave. Sure, Tim Robinson stars, but he didn’t make it—so why does it feel like a 97-minute ITYSL sketch? That’s complimentary, every fan of the show stays hungry for more after the 20-or-so-minute episodes conclude. It’s essentially second-hand embarrassment personified, again, complimentary. Friendship is the natural next step in the Tim Robinson Cinematic Universe. It provides everything a sketch cannot—a through-line narrative, high stakes, and fully realized characters. On the other hand, it falls into the same trap as most sketch-turned-feature films do by losing steam in a few places. That’s the only real complaint in an otherwise refreshingly original and absurdist comedy that will have your cheeks hurting from laughter.
Friendship is hard to summarize, other than its most basic premise of Robinson’s character desperately seeking a friend in the cool, new neighbour and local weatherman Austin Carmichael, played by Paul Rudd (who also produced the film, so clearly needed an outlet to let his freak flag fly). Besides that guiding our way, the film takes nonsensical twists and turns into the best places, including a date in the sewers, a drug trip sequence for the ages, and a guy named Jimp (like jump with an i). A24 just announced that they acquired the film out of its world premiere at TIFF, and I for one am excited for the overpriced merch they will release with Robinson’s beautiful silhouette on full display.