We had the privilege to attend TIFF’s 50th edition this year. Here is a short list of the movies that tantalized, mesmerized, and captivated our writer, Juan Ospina.
The Secret Agent, dir. Kleber Mendoça Filho
Kleber Mendoça has long been in a league of his own in terms of pushing the notions of film grammar and memory. The Brazilian filmmaker understands, maybe better than any contemporary working director, that film is history, memory, culture, and identity. What we watch defines a plethora of elements in our lives that extend way beyond the screen time of a movie. Kleber champions these imagined realities that linger between the screen and real life in his latest film, The Secret Agent. Following Marcelo (Wagner Moura), a scientist caught in a web of deceit and violence, as he arrives in Recife (Kleber’s hometown and cinematic playground) to reunite with his son and escape the claws of corruption. That is the story we are presented; however, cleverly, the filmmaker keeps reminding us that The Secret Agent is all fiction, either a memory or a movie. Mendoça repeatedly suspends our belief, so by the time the film’s conclusion arrives, Marcelo’s story is as vague as a dream…. Just like the movie theatres of our youth.
Blue Heron, dir. Sophy Romvari
Winner of the Best Canadian Discovery Award
“I’ve never seen a story like my family’s on screen,” said Canadian director Sohpy Romvari once the credits for her debut feature started rolling. Out of this autobiographical necessity is born the painfully beautiful Blue Heron. The film tells the story of a Hungarian immigrant family settling down on Vancouver Island as their intrafamilial relationships begin to be contested when their eldest child, Jeremy, begins developing uncontrollable behaviours. Focusing on gazes and actions, rather than words, Romvari constructs a delicate portrait of a family on the brink of crisis. Blue Heron has an understated sense of permanence in every image that conveys tenderness yet urgency. Meticulous, yet organic. Pragmatic and volatile. Sophy’s film is an exercise in memory that touches on guilt and trauma without an ounce of cynicism.
A Poet, dir. Simón Mesa Soto
Rarely is it that a movie speaks to you in such personal terms as Simón Mesa’s film. A Poet proposes an intimate portrait of a struggling artist and successful loser that utilizes the Colombian (particularly Medellín’s) vernacular in a moving yet humorous way. Simón Mesa Soto revives the slapstick with commanding camerawork as the tragicomedy of Oscar (Ubeimar Ríos) unfolds. The eponymous character is so unfit to live among his peers that he is constantly reminded that change is not a performance, that life is not a play, that there are no acts nor resolutions if we do not put in the work. Day in, day out. However, Mesa Soto never fully gives in to the irony. There are glimpses, brief and concise, of a misplaced optimism that seems to fuel Oscar to try, even in the horrible conditions his own actions have created for himself. In short, A Poet sings for the artists and the dreamers of Medellín. The ones I grew up with, the ones I admire, the ones I hate. The wannabes, the amateurs, the professionals. The liars, the abusers, the “poets” and The Poets. Most importantly, the film sings for the silences and the chaos. The 3 am glow when you think you’re going to make it, and the sobering morning sun when you realize you won’t. The streets, the corners, the sidewalks where I once also chose to dream, to lie, to cry. Where I told myself a thousand times that I was indeed an Artist.
The Voice of Hind Rajab, dir. Kaouther Ben Hania
Cinema is art, entertainment, industry, but most importantly, all cinema is a storytelling tool. Never has it been more important to remember the power a film has to inform, to move, and to radicalize than in this day and age, where images and histories are constantly being contended and are grappling against each other. The Voice of Hind Rajab does not break any new ground in terms of form or film grammar, but that is way beyond the point of Kaouther Ben Hania’s movie. Mixing fictionalized reenactments with real voices and images of the cruel events that transpired on January 29, 2024, in Gaza, The Voice of Hind Rajab retells the futile efforts of the Red Crescent to save a 6-year-old girl caught under military fire. The film is a relevant document and reminder that no rationale can justify a genocide.
The Son and the Sea, dir. Stroma Cairns
Mature, rhythmic, deft. Stroma Cairns presents us with a beautiful family portrait (natural and chosen) in the midst of emotional and mental plights. Lee (Jonah West) travels to the northern coast of Scotland in an effort to escape his toxic behaviours and ecosystem, and on a mission to see his aunt. The Son and the Sea is a film about loss. About losing oneself, losing your friends, your partners, your family. Cairns adeptly and organically intertwines an ensemble of characters that seem to find support and tenderness among each other. Expressing the challenges of living without a true purpose, Cairns emphasizes the importance of listening and understanding. How empathizing in a masculine world is a strength, not a weakness. Ultimately, The Son and the Sea is a reminder that films are the closest we have to materializing time. Immortalizing a person, a moment, a feeling.
My Father’s Shadow, dir. Akinola Davies Jr.
On the eve of the 1993 Nigerian Presidential Election, brothers Remi and Akin (Efon Winin and Godwin Egbo) spend a day with their absent father, Folarin (Sope Dirisu), in the sprawling streets of Lagos. Intertwining memories and dreams, Akinola Davies Jr creates a oneiric portrait of a family and a country on the verge of transition. The disillusionment of the children with their father’s lack of commitment reflects the disenchantment of the people with their government. Shot in beautiful 35 mm, Akinola’s film is a masterclass in subjective storytelling and a compassionate love letter to the filmmaker’s roots. Navigating all these layers, My Father’s Shadow exists in the tight space between fantasy and recollection. Both treacherous yet hopeful. Conniving yet healing.
Short Ends 