Tag Archives: toronto-film-festival

Prelude: Once upon a time, a boy watched a movie. In it, a monster with bolts in his head and a shuffling gate was created by a man. When the boy gazed upon “the creature,” however, as the film’s characters called this sewn-together colossus, he did not see a monster …

She’s a woman who feels most at home in the natural world, curling up on forest floors in rural England and displaying a gift for falconry. He’s a young Latin tutor, barely out of his teens, desperately trying to pay off his father’s debts. They encounter each other outside of …

This will be a spoiler-free review of Wake Up Dead Man. Mostly. We will tell you that it is Rian Johnson‘s third movie in his murder-mystery franchise involving a deductive sleuth mixing it up with a host of classic murder-mystery archetypes. We will list its cast members, which — as …

Here’s a partial list of what we talk about when we talk about Sydney Sweeney: the iconic power of blondes, screen nudity, on-set rumors, female objectification, Hollywood economics, her political affiliation, her figure, her jeans, her genes. What’s usually not on this short list? Her acting chops. Blessed with a …

Long before John Candy became a household name outside of Canada, the comedian would occasionally adopt a persona that his friends and colleagues dubbed “Johnny Toronto.” Unlike the often shy, overly genial guy who used to disappear into the background of Second City ensemble scenes, Johnny was brash, bold, a …

And a pussycat shall lead them! Flow, the animated film that’s Latvia’s submission for the Best International Feature Oscar, kicks off with a beautiful moment of tranquility: A small, black feline, staring wide-eyed at itself in a rippling puddle. It’s somewhere in a forest, surrounded by foliage, and the ambient …

His name is Lee … Bill Lee. A man slouching toward middle age and suffering the malaise of someone who’s seen it all, heard it all, shot it all into his veins, he’s embraced the dissolute life of an ex-pat. Sporting an endless supply of filthy linen suits and ever-present …

You’re used to hearing the sound of “Bruce! Bruuuce! Broooooooooose!” in giant, rock-friendly arenas all over the world. The echo of fans screaming out Bruce Springsteen‘s name in the Roy Thomson Hall in Toronto, however, feels weird — the 2,600 capacity venue is pretty intimate compared to most places the …

Imagine a film archivist scouring an underground vault in Burbank or a cave in Butte, Montana, and discovering a few dozen dusty film canisters tucked away in a corner. Reels of some long-lost project from Francis Ford Coppola, or Bernardo Bertolucci, or Michael Cimino circa the mid-1970s reside in these …

Let’s say you’re a band — a famous and well-regarded one — and you are deep into a tour that’s ambitious, theatrical, and almost triples the number of musicians you normally have onstage. Once upon a time, you played stark post-punk songs and Al Green covers at CBGB. Now your …