Usually visiting the DPA Gifting Lounge in Cannes is a treat and a welcomed oasis of treats and beautiful things to behold for this overstretched writer in need of some serious rest. But this year, Nathalie Dubois-Sissoko provided so much more than that.
"Who killed the world?" asks Mad Max: Fury Road at various points in its runtime. It's a sweeping question and an essential one for the film's brutal beating heart, but unlike a question such as "who watches the watchmen?" there is very little ambiguity here.
"Filmmaking is not for the faint-hearted," asserts South African-born film editor Margaret Sixel. The mother of two boys, Buda (19), and Tige (15), is one of a growing number of women editing the male domain of action films.
There's a terrific comic-book sensibility to this film, which is high praise for the work of a seventy-year-old man. In contrast to that other George, I feel like this movie -- with its blood, sweat and gears -- is the proper spiritual sequel to the original Star Wars.
The original director George Miller has breathed new life into that classic franchise and the result is an absolutely riveting, visually arresting and perfectly acted film that sets up a netherworld where water and gasoline are at a premium, evildoers rule and humanity is down on its luck.
Certainly the pedigree of Child 44 makes it seem promising. But the timing of the release -- April, a pre-summer graveyard -- and the fact that it wasn't screened for critics until shortly before opening both mitigate against it.
In a world where the need to grab moviegoers' attention is paramount, the skill to create a good movie trailer is definitely a necessity and an art form. How many times have you been fooled into watching something because the trailer looked spectacular?
By Day 3 it's become clear that the Toronto film fest 2014 is above all about the year of the actor, male and female. As I toggle between one theater and the next, I discover yet another film that raises the bar on the art of screen performance.
Ivan Locke has a moral quandary whose resolution is the centerpiece of this film. At what price should or can he (or anyone) redress past mistakes, those of our own doing or those that befall us as the legacy of our family's misdeeds?