Invisible City

How does one find meaning growing up? How does one develop a sense of responsibility if there are no role models to watch? How does one create self-esteem if nobody seems to care?

Invisible City - a film which was honoured with the Best Canadian Feature Documentary award at this year’s Hot Docs festival - endeavours to answer these questions, intertwining the stories of two youths in Toronto’s Regent Park neighbourhood with the massive redevelopment and gentrification of the area.

From a cinematic point of view, Invisible City is an excellent documentary and a very good film. A subtle soundtrack enhances pensive photography and elegant editing. Personally, I dislike excessive intertitles in documentaries because they replace explanations that could otherwise be provided by interview subjects, archival footage, or voice-overs. I think that these other options gradually augment the mood of the film compared to a three second burst of information and in my mind director Hubert Davis missed a chance to weave additional perspectives into the film’s tapestry of personalities.

Viewers need to step beyond the role of an audience member and think about the film as a citizen. How do we (personally and as a society) behave towards outsiders or the less fortunate? I have some idea based on experience but I can’t say that there is a definite solution.

On one hand, I want to say that everyone should treat others as individuals, giving respect and providing opportunities to succeed. Despite whatever happens at school or in the city, everyone needs to understand that they will be known by their actions. The police may patrol Regent Park frequently but residents shouldn’t place themselves in bad situations by breaking the law or hanging out with those who do. It may be bad luck to have been caught in the act but in the end, it was an act that was self-destructive or dangerous to others.

One scene that crops up as I reflect about the film is a discussion between Mikey and his mother after he got into a fight because somebody he didn’t know “talked to [him].” I despise logic like that. Hopefully, Mikey realizes the fallacies in his argument upon viewing the film and self-evaluating his actions.

The film was screened at Eastern Commerce C.I. for staff members and Hubert Davis and Kendell were present. Fortunately, although it may have taken a little longer, both of the film’s subjects seem to be moving forward at school and in the workplace.

The Brothers Bloom

A tale of two films, The Brothers Bloom hits and misses. The caper, with a spirited soundtrack, clever twists, and absurd comedy at the right moments, is excellent. The love story, with an undue focus on Adrian Brody’s sad face, artificial dialogue, and poor performances, falls flat.

The viewer is always guessing what will come next as two brothers, Bloom and his older sibling Stephen, attempt to con a clueless heiress. I enjoyed how the film followed up on details from earlier in the film and the comic timing. There are some unnecessary twists which seem to be a way for writer and director Rian Johnson to say “Look how clever I am” rather than advance the plot. Despite this weakness, the whole package is entertaining and enjoyable.

To Catch a Thief offers a caper and a love story but it works because Cary Grant and Grace Kelly are able actors and people care about their characters. Mark Ruffalo and Rachel Weisz are bad and Adrian Brody overdoes the woe is me act. The Brothers Bloom should have simply excised the romance and ended thirty two minutes earlier. This would have also permitted me to sneak into the next theatre and re-watch the climax of Star Trek.

The Pool

The Pool is a problematic film, typical of recent cinema. The plot moves slowly and this patient pace enables director Charles Smith to successfully set a mood and engages the audience in the lives of the characters. You want the protagonist - a Hindi-speaking hotel boy named Venkatesh - to succeed but the film never tells you if he makes it. It is pleasant to watch but the fact that it is considered to be one of the most outstanding films of 2008 illustrates how much North American cinema has fallen.

The screenplay contains little tension and no denouement. It seems to stop thirty minutes too soon. Relative to recent films that I have seen, it is very similar to Tulpan. Both are foreign language films with interesting non-typical characters but prove to be only half-movies. More and more films have been distributed that follow this model, erasing the unique quality of foreign films in order to make them generic.

Venkatesh gains solace by climbing a tree to observe a swimming pool behind a vacant house. He wants to swim in the pool but does not want to do so dishonestly: he wants to be invited to take a dip. He gets to know the home owner, who seeks to help him out. Finally, when the owner moves back to Mumbai for monsoon season and Venkatesh is alone in the yard but chooses instead to merely sit down instead in a lawn chair. In two hours, Venkatesh has travelled only two metres closer to his goal.

Likewise, I am disappointed to see how The Limits of Control has been panned by critics because the plot did not cover enough ground. It also demonstrates how many new movies are also generic. The trailers show potentially iconic characters in strange situations, there are many jump cuts between unrelated scenes as an announcer reads clichés such as “when you can only trust yourself” and “in a time when everything is changing”, and the tempo of the music speeds up to suggest an intriguing climax. Unfortunately, those who purchased tickets later discover that the trailer contains more drama than the entire film, which is less than the sum of its parts.

In this case, generic is not good.

Sin Nombre

What separates Sin Nombre from other films is the same quality that prevents the film from becoming great: the use of symbolism. The film is replete with metaphors. Twin storylines which become intertwined when Hondurans attempting to illegally immigrate to the United States become entangled with members of a Mexican crime family.

The refugees travel by train through Mexico, surreptiously dodging deportation by the border police as they move northwards. Some Mexicans welcome them and provide assistance, tossing fruits to the migrants; others curse them and throw stones. A family - a father, his brother, and his daughter - strive to reunite with family in New Jersey and as it is with real life, not everyone reaches their goal.

Religious icons illustrate the story of the two members of the Mara Salvatrucha as they follow parallel paths to Heaven and Hell. Casper has become disillusioned with his illegal lifestyle and chooses to leave the gang and leave the county. Smiley is a youth who wishes to become initiated into the gang and is willing to kill Casper to prove it.

Although they may be involved in regular gun fights and seek to kill their rivals, the Mara adorn themselves with tattoos of crosses and rosary beads. Likewise, the passengers on the train pray that they will reach their destination.

Smiley begins the film living with his grandmother who curses Casper and the rest of the gang and can only receive his M.S. tattoo by catching his former “homie” and killing him. Casper has recorded images from his life on a digital camera, which he has kept to himself and reviews occasionally. He must give it up to pay for his river crossing into Texas.

After killing the boss and leaving the gang, Casper catches a train with the Honduran family. He meets Sayra and tells her about an airplane plant he saw when he once organized a human smuggling expedition and how he wanted to climb the giant globe in front of the factory. When she survives and crosses the border, I thought that she should have tried to find the globe and climb it for Casper, since the film is largely based on symbolism. She calls her family instead, recalling an earlier scene where her father forces her to memorize the telephone number. But in a sense, Casper didn’t complete his journey to reconciliation because literally falls a few feet short of his goal.

Tension is successfully by putting the characters in jeopardy via a variety of situations throughout the film. The actors do their job but none of the portrayals are spectacular. Like Gomorrah, Sin Nombre shows how crime has become insidious across the globe and how many indigent people see felonies as the escape from poverty.

Hot Docs '09

Rush lines thwarted attempts to view Rembrandt’s J’accuse and Invisble City. The former may never be screened again in Toronto but the popularity, critical acclaim, and local content of the latter bodes favourably for future screenings. Nevertheless, I was able to screen a trifecta of films during this year’s festival.

Act of God is a subjective look at the effect of lightning.
- Why him and not me?
- Since not everyone was killed, God must know what he is doing
- How do I go forward?
The answer - uncovered differently by different people - is that you just do it. Lightning is a symptom of a universe as chaotic as our own minds and there is no real logic (that we understand) behind its actions.

69 recounts the demolition of the Ungdomshuset in Copenhagen and the concurrent battle between the city and a tribe of outsiders who had been operating the house as a hostel since 1982 Viewers watch the year-long dispute from the perspective of the youth who protest for a new home and search for belonging in society. Some confrontations are violent as the Danish police prove far more aggressive than their Toronto counterparts; others evolve in populist demonstrations.

The outcasts outmaneuver the mayor and the issue is spun into a debate about youth and low-income housing. The original house is demolished but a new one is founded a year later. At the conclusion of the film, the exact details are unclear but there is a sense the Ungdomshuset residents proved their point although further research would suggest that the film ignored the eleven protesters sentenced to a year in prison. Nobody is innocent and perspective is entirely relative.

Shadow Billionaire proved to be the most interesting of the three films. After the mysterious death of enigmatic businessman Larry Hillblom, a number of illegitimate children step forward to claim their inheritance. Apparently, Hillblom had been sleeping around -- everywhere. A legal tug of war ensues over the estate between the executors and the potential heirs. Scores of lawyers become involved, including the State Attorney General for California, each seeking a piece of the half-billion dollar pie.

The film gradually reveals more twists and turns as the legal web becomes increasingly tangled. The diligence and logic of a Filipino attorney in the face of large blue chip law firms finds a resolution in the details of the case. The most thoughtful argument wins, not the loudest one.

Star Trek

Star Trek not only successful reboots the franchise but is the first film to feature a Beastie Boys song in the 23rd century. The film is visually spectacular thanks to the direction of J.J. Abrams, which features innovative camera angles and a brisk pace. The film also re-introduces the primary characters, combining familiar traits with new wrinkles well enough to satisfy most fans. (I had heard that Christopher Pine based his portrayal of James T. Kirk on Harrison Ford’s Indiana Jones and Han Solo and was disappointed when he did not take advantage when Spock perfectly set him up for a “Never tell me the odds” line’; “You’ll succeed” just doesn’t have the same ring to it.)

24th century Spock may say that “I am -- and always will be your friend” but the characters have yet to develop the rapport seen in the original series. The relationships between the characters are not fully developed and tension lingers, especially between Kirk, Spock, and Uhura.

There are some flaws, such as a protagonist who is occasionally too superficial and an antagonist - Nero - who channels too much Shinzon and not enough Soran or Khan. At times, the space battles are too murky.

Like Batman Begins, Star Trek makes the audience intrigued and excited to see further sequels, unlike Nemesis which made the audience angry and unruly. However, if the timeline is irrevocably altered and the characters that fans enjoyed in four series and ten films - like Picard or Data - no longer exist, why patronize this film? Audiences undertake a willing suspension of disbelief and create emotional bonds with the characters on screen. Films are popular because of these relationships; otherwise viewers would walk out at any time and catch the rest on of the film on YouTube. Why watch Star Trek if Paramount Pictures is willing to destroy these bonds like the planet of Vulcan was shattered in the film?

Malcolm Gladwell and Full-Court Pressure

A friend asked me to comment on this article, which was published by Malcolm Gladwell in the New Yorker.

First of all, Vivek Ranadivé is incredibly self-centered and should reevaluate why he wants to coach twelve-year-old girls. This statement does not absolve his counterparts of their boorish, loutish, and short-tempered behaviour but he is coaching at the wrong level. Usually, that particular age group restricts full-court pressure because of the destructive effects on skill development. If he had limited practice time, Randivé should have focused on fundamental skills.
Obviously full-court pressure would work; most teenagers make horrendous decisions under any type of pressure. It’s entirely different when rick Pitino does likewise at the University of Louisville because of the difference in skill level and age.

T.E. Lawrence did what any intelligent person facing long odds would do: he changed the paradigm under which he was operating. It’s what the Viet Cong did to the U.S. Army, what David did to Goliath, and what Digger Phelps and Fordham did to Doctor J. and the University of Massachusetts. One of Gladwell’s arbitrary set of examples that is appropriate is Tibco software because that company understood that they needed real-time information and accurate analysis to surpass larger competitors.

If a “skilled” youth team executes at an acceptable level, full-court pressure will bedevil their players. If a team executes at an elite level, they will pick full-court pressure apart. There is a reason that the favourite in war wins 71.5%. The underdogs don’t win because they are better at war but because they change the particular type of war that is being fought (which is exactly what anyone who is short-stacked should do).

Gladwell acknowledges this fact in effect on page two of the article but continues with another seven pages of dilatory, pedantic, and superficial logic. He is right about one statement: need fuels innovation and dire need accelerates the creative process.

The article discusses two possible outcomes for a mismatch: the underdog changes the game and prevails or favourite crushes them. It’s incredibly rare that the underdog does not alter the conditions of the battle and prevails (prevailing only due to luck, perhaps). Princeton didn’t try to beat Georgetown in the paint in 1989, they tried to cut and pass around them.

If a Major League pitcher has a great fastball but poor control, the batter should make him throw strikes or wait for his pitch. If the pitcher has a great fastball and precise control, their talent will overcome the batter (except for the element of chance, such as when Kirk Gibson took Dennis Eckersley long).

Pressure has its place, at the right time, in the right situation, and against the right opponent. Against the tremendous talent of the superior talent of teams such as the Chicago Bulls and the Boston Celtics, Rick Pitino won only one playoff series during his Association coaching career. Michael Jordan (1989) and Larry Bird (1988) picked his team - the New York Knicks - apart.