By Jim Slotek, Thom Ernst, Karen Gordon, Kim Hughes, John Kirk, Liam Lacey and Bonnie Laufer

Well, this is it. As the Toronto International Film Festival draws to a close, we offer one last batch of capsule reviews for your consideration. We will return in short order with our overview of the Festival. Meantime, have fun. And thanks for reading.

Brother (Special Presentations)

Fri, Sept. 16, 6 pm, Tiff Bell Lightbox 1.

The two-hour running time of Toronto director Clement Virgo’s adaptation of David Chariandy’s celebrated 2017 novella about a Jamaican Canadian family growing up in precarious circumstances in north Scarborough in the 90s takes more time than reading the book. Yet, apart from minor details, Virgo’s adaptation is sensitively faithful to both the events and elegiac, meticulous spirit of the Chariandry’s prose and its double-time lines, 10 years apart. The film also stays largely within the first-person perspective of the sensitive, introverted Michael (Lamar Johnson) whose older brother Frances (Aaron Pierre) is a heroic figure, admired and feared throughout the neighbourhood, and who serves as his guardian when their single mother, a maid (Marsha Stephanie Blake) for a cleaning company, works long shifts. Along with his hero brother, Michael’s other ally is Aisha, the academic star of the neighbourhood (Kiana Madeira), who makes it her mission to bring Michael out of his shell.

All four core performances are first-rate and the topical Brother can expect a warm critical reception. Arguably, the conspicuous beauty of the film — the gliding camera moves, seamless transitions and lighting that suggests the chiaroscuro of classic painting — are something of a liability. While there are internal justifications for the emphasis on aesthetics (in one scene Francis lectures Michael on the importance of style as a kind of armour), Brother sometimes feel like too elegant a basket of grief and beauty, as the throbbing score and artful lighting distract from, rather than enhance, the impact of the tragic climax. LL

The Colour of Ink (TIFF Docs)

Fri, Sept. 16, 10 am, digital TIFF Bell Lightbox; Sat, Sept. 17, 6:30 pm, Scotiabank 13.

Long-time Maclean’s film critic turned late-career filmmaker Brian Johnson follows up his 2016 documentary Al Purdy Was Here with The Colour of Ink, which traces a global network of artists, carvers, cartoonists, tattooists and caligraphers who share an almost evangelical dedication to leaving their handmade marks in a world being transformed into short-term digital memory. At the centre of the story is a kind of Johnny Appleseed figure, Jason Logan, and his Toronto Ink Company, who trades and sells ink, made from foraged materials, from black walnuts to nails and bits of brick. Visually, the film — shot by Nick De Pencier — is entrancingly psychedelic, hopping around the globe and back to pre-history, all punctuated by scenes of Logan’s “ink tests” when the new-born ink blossoms into tanks of water. Within the film is an archival documentary from Logan’s childhood which, without drawing simple connections, helps contextualize his passion for things that are designed to last. LL

Driving Madeleine (Special Presentations)

Sun, Sept 18, 5:30 pm, Scotiabank 1.

French director Christian Carion has specialized in historical films: see 2005’s WWI drama, Joyeux Noel and 2015’s WW2 drama, Come What May. Although his latest, Driving Madeleine, is set in present-day Paris, its subject is the hold of the past on the present. The heroine of the story is 92-year-old Madeleine (French jazz singer and actress Line Renaud), who books a taxi to take her to the retirement home where she will spend her last days. But before checking in, she decides to spend the afternoon travelling around Paris by taxi, driven by a harried and depressive Charles (comic actor and director Dany Boone), whose long working hours leave him almost no time to see his wife and daughter. The two actors, who have worked together before, have an effortless, engaging chemistry and, predictably, the older woman’s wisdom and spirit gradually compel Charles to adjust his gloomy mindset. But a French version of Driving Miss Daisy, this is not. Behind the story of the misfits who become friends, Madeleine’s backstory, told in flashbacks, is a sensational one. A teenaged love affair, a bad marriage, a family tragedy, and a spectacular act of violence that could make even Quentin Tarantino fans tremble. LL

Empire of Light (Special Presentations)

Sat, Sept. 17, 5 pm, Royal Alexandra Theatre.

Olivia Colman stars as Hilary, a fortysomething duty manager at The Empire, a 1980s-era movie theatre in a picturesque English seaside town where the staff has a playful team spirit. Sometimes a bit too much: Every so often she and theatre manager Mr. Ellis (Colin Firth) have illicit sex in his office that seems to bring her no joy. Ellis hires a new employee, Stephen (Michael Ward), a twenty-something Black man who is warm, joyful, and emotionally open. He and Hilary bond though they both have challenges. Then there’s the movie theatre itself.

The Empire is beautiful and there’s romance to seeing movies this way. That comes from Norman (Toby Jones), the old-school projectionist who loves his job of creating magical experiences for movie-goers. This latest from writer-director Sam Mendes finds him working with the legendary cinematographer Roger Deakins and every frame is beautiful. But I left the screening a little confused about what Mendes was driving at. Yes, it’s an homage to cinema but it ends up also being a character study, a story of two unlikely people bonding against this cinematic backdrop. The acting is superb, and I was moved, but the film’s disparate parts didn’t gel. KG

The Gravity (Platform)

Fri, Sept. 16, 3:45 pm, Scotiabank 9.

A planetary alignment affecting the gravity of the Earth may be the strangest setting for a story about a drug turf struggle in a Paris suburb. In the world premiere of this film, director Cedric Ido gives us a story that combines science fiction and urban crime. When the local street gang is imbued with a sense of cosmic awareness inspired by the alignment of the planets, the story takes an odd turn that forces old friends to overcome old resentments and band together. An eclectic assortment of elements are present yet oddly imbalanced, resulting in a thought-provoking story that has moments of surprise and curiosity. JK

No Bears (Special Presentations)

Fri, Sept. 16, 3 pm, Scotiabank 2; Sat, Sept. 17, 1 pm, Scotiabank 14.

Iranian writer-director Jafar Panahi’s latest comes to TIFF under a cloud. The filmmaker — who has been under sanction for years in Iran and forbidden to leave the country —was jailed in late July and sentenced to six years in prison just as No Bears was launching on the festival circuit. It’s one of his finest films. In it, Panahi plays a version of himself, a director who has rented a room in a village not far from the Turkish border. This way he can shoot remotely, giving his on-the-ground assistant director instructions without leaving the country. His film is about an Iranian couple trying to get out of Turkey using stolen passports. But there are problems, with the actors who are Iranian refugees and with the Wi-Fi.

And that’s not all. The director has, maybe, surreptitiously caught on film a young couple from a deeply traditional village meeting in secret. The villagers want the proof. Despite the director’s pleas that he doesn’t have the footage in question, he is an outsider and so, suspicious. On the surface, this seems like a very simple story. But by the end of the film, fact and fiction mesh in a quietly devastating way. Panahi’s subtle grace as a storyteller is again in evidence here, in a powerful film that has layers and layers. #FreeJafarPanahi KG

V/H/S/99 (Midnight Madness)

Fri., Sept. 16, 12:30 pm, Royal Alexandra Theatre; Sat, Sept 17, 10 pm, TIFF Bell Lightbox 2.

The V/H/S franchise is a collection of found-footage horror shorts bound by a flimsy plot weaved between each film. On a production level, it’s a great idea: to hire the talent to write and direct, put their work together and package it as a feature film. It’s an idea that has worked several times since the original release—and by ‘work,’ I mean the movie got made. None of the V/H/S films are on par with the original and even the original wasn’t that great. Now, the latest entry in the franchise comes to TIFF, offering viewers more grainy footage, shaky cameras, and flimsy rationales as to why the camera keeps rolling when all hell breaks out. The difference now is that the shorts are no longer surrounded by a single concept and therefore aren’t crammed into a forced storyline. The shorts include tales about a game with plastic soldiers, a dead punk band, teenage voyeurs, a deadly fraternity prank, and two filmmakers who get sent to hell. I only wish it was as much fun as it sounds. But despite a few entertaining moments, V/H/S/99 offers very little to the franchise. TE

Walk Up (Special Presentations)

Fri, Sept. 16, 7:30 pm, Scotiabank 2; Sun, Sept. 18, 4:30 pm, Scotiabank 12.

Shot in black-and-white and long static takes, the latest from Korean auteur Hong Sangsoo follows a successful middle-aged filmmaker Byungsoo (Kwan Haehyo) who arrives at a four-story apartment building to visit the landlady, an old friend, Mrs Kim (Lee Hyeyoung). He brings along his adult daughter, Jeongsu (Park Miso) who is considering a career in interior decorating after dropping out of art school and hopes Mrs. Kim can give her some tips. There’s something unsettling about the banal dialogue, the way Mrs. Kim repeatedly uses the words “nice” and “cute” for example, that suggests an absurdist play and soon enough, things begin to get strange. Mrs. Kim wants the director to move in, even suggesting he pay no rent. Then, Byungsoo gets a business call and leaves his daughter drinking wine with the landlady’s office. After a few drinks, Jeongsu talks about her disappointment with her father before leaving to get more wine. When Byungsoo returns, it’s not the same afternoon but some time in the future. This time, Mrs Kim invites him to the second floor, where, again over drinks, the woman restaurant chef makes a play for him. Later, the time jumps forward again, in the same building, as Byungsoo moves up the floors, through different stages and relationships in his life. Walk Up is a rare and artful mix of elements, simultaneously abstract and down-to-earth, awkwardly funny, mysterious, and melancholy. LL

TIFF ’22: What To See at This Year’s Fest, Round 8

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