TIFF 50: Sweden's "Eagles of the Republic" and Taiwan's "Left-Handed Girl"

by Cláudio Alves

For the past three years, a big part of my TIFF journey has revolved around the Best International Film Oscar submissions. Although I try not to limit myself to award contenders when deciding what to watch and cover, this particular race is very close to my heart, often serving as a bridge between more mainstream audiences and the endless possibilities of world cinema. Earlier, I shared my thoughts on Norway's Sentimental Value, but today, it's time to examine that nation's Scandinavian neighbor, Sweden. And then, let's travel east, to Taiwan, where we find our most recent Oscar king producing, editing, and co-writing his longtime collaborator's solo directorial debut. Tarik Saleh's Eagles of the Republic and Shih-Ching Tsou's Left-Handed Girl await us…

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TIFF 50: Théodore Pellerin delivers a career-best performance in “Nino”

by Cláudio Alves

When describing new films, there's often the temptation to force analogies with past, unrelated works. It's an understandable impulse, akin to shorthand that tends to convey ideas that would otherwise require much more effort to articulate and may not be as clear when all is said and done. In other words, comparisons as such are a crutch for the film critic, verging on cliché. They are also really useful and, at times, almost impossible to avoid. Consider Nino, Pauline Loquès's feature debut, which follows a young Parisian as he reels from a cancer diagnosis and the need to bank some of his sperm if he ever wishes to have biological children. He has three days to make that decision, as he must start treatment by the beginning of next week. So… a genderbent take on Varda's Cléo from 5 to 7 that might as well be titled Nino from Friday to Monday? Yes and no…

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TIFF 50: Benoit Blanc looks for grace in "Wake Up Dead Man"

by Cláudio Alves

If Wake Up Dead Man is the weakest Knives Out mystery yet, the blame lies at the feet of its outsized thematic ambition. In that regard, the new flick outdoes its predecessors and then some, touching on the same satirical points and terminally online observations of our socio-political present while stretching hands up, toward the heavens, in search of an ineffable grace. Rian Johnson thus tackles religion and belief and absolution with a Gothic twist and perverse glee, a complex proposal further complicated by the way he keeps playing with the whodunnit model in his usual deconstructionist manner. The director boldly adds Poe and Carr to the pantheon of authors he'll crib from in a metatextual game that reaches out an invitation to its audience. Share the pleasure of my mischief, it whispers in your ear…

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TIFF 50: "Noviembre" makes for a formidable debut

by Cláudio Alves

Dedicated to the memory of the victims, their families, and those still looking for the missing, Tomás Corredor's directorial debut reflects on the Palace of Justice siege in Bogotá, Colombia, without ever leaving a bathroom where M-19 guerrilleros took refuge and held hostages over two fateful days in November 1985. It starts at the close, with archival recordings over grainy blackness from which the vision of a destroyed room emerges, sunlight pouring in through a hole in the wall. One might wonder what happened here that turned a commonplace public toilet into an apocalyptic tableau such as this. Noviembre then goes back, to the beginning of the end, when the militants first took their hostages into the windowless room and signed their fates…

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TIFF 50: "Sentimental Value" falls victim to high expectations

by Cláudio Alves

To be loved so intensely, showered in adoration by a captive captivated crowd and the world beyond, can be as much of a curse as it is a blessing. Those who follow film festivals and the awards that come after are very familiar with such pitfalls. After all, who among us hasn't gone to the theater, hyped on months of exhaustive praise for a title that, when all is said and done, isn't as special as you thought it would be? Last year at TIFF, I wrote about my disappointment with Anora and loathing of Emilia Pérez, which was made worse by the reputation both films had accrued at Cannes and the palpable affection you could feel emanating from the Toronto crowd. 

This year, I come to you with a similar experience, another Cannes darling that failed to meet the high expectations placed upon it. Sorry, folks, but Joachim Trier's Sentimental Value left me cold…

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