David Cronenberg, right, and Viggo Mortensen field questions at the Toronto film festival. Photo courtesy of Yahoo News.
Body horror – that’s the cinematic genre tag that’s often been slapped on filmmaker David Cronenberg, who brushes it off like so much splattered gray matter before confessing, “I’m happy that some people think I invented my own genre or something like that. Read more »
Day Five of the Toronto International Film Festival: I had to make a Bob Dylan pun above because today I saw I'm Not There, Todd Haynes' tribute to the star (focusing on the young, exciting, pre-Victoria's Secret sellout years, thankfully). There's a lot going on here -- I'm sure you've already heard about the gimmick of having several different actors play Dylan or Dylanesque characters. Read more »
I knew there had to be a silver lining to the predictable cavalcade of hate for B_____y S____a' VMA performance: it's providing Chris Crocker with his biggest crossover to date.
He brings it, too, seizing the moment to let us all know what the title "Gimme More" is about and to show why Perez Hilton is worse than Paris Hilton. What in tarnation has the 21st century answer to Jonathan Caouette's boy-self wrought? Read more »
Day four of the Toronto International Film Fest: So, I was wrong. Nick Broomfield's Battle for Haditha isn't a documentary. Hell, it doesn't even have any voice-over. It's a drama -- a docu-drama -- that reenacts a real-life Iraq war incident in which a roadside IED led to the death of one American solider -- and in turn, many Iraqi civilians (including children) shot to death by the fallen soldier's weary, emotional, and confused squadmates. Read more »
Day three of the Toronto International Film Festival, and on the heels of Control comes Joy Division, a documentary about the groundbreaking (and heartbreakingly short-lived) post-punk band. Read more »
Er, actually, I shouldn't say shit like that, considering whatever cruddy virus I carted from California to Canada is lingering, probably due to acute lack of shut-eye. I am now officially "that coughing asshole" during quiet moments in movies.
Fortunately, the flicks on my schedule today at the Toronto International Film Festival haven't been too library-like. Read more »
Mrs. What, Mrs. Who, Mrs Which. Screwy cherubim, mystical feathered pluralities, telepathic baby brothers. A dog named Fortinbras. And of course: tesseracts. What the hell am I talking about? Read more »