michaeljohnson-27597

Sometimes it takes an outside viewpoint to give us true perspective. We don't really know ourselves until someone pulls back the veil and shows us our true selves, and often... we don't like what they show us.

It took a gifted filmmaker, who also happens to be a Chinese National to once again show North-Americans a little nugget of our history that we might not know about, but also might not enjoy hearing.

Chloe Zhao, who is set to tackle Marvel's Eternals next year is one of the most subtle and grounded filmmakers of this generation, but she is also an impeccable story teller, and she relies not on large budgets or huge Hollywood names to tell these stories, she relies on authenticity and human connection. The juxtaposition of going from her small, personal stories to the Marvel Cinematic Universe needs to be addressed; it's akin to helping with your cousin's taxes for years, and then suddenly being asked to head a Fortune-500 company.

Zhao's Nomadland, based on the novel by Jessica Bruder is the story of a forgotten part of the Boomer generation. There are those in their 50s, 60s and perhaps older who just can't afford to retire. They need to work to survive, and they need to keep moving to work. These Boomers are lost because the little industrial-driven towns they've lived in for years weren't meant for the modern world filled with those aforementioned Fortune 500 companies. Mines shut down, mills shut down, factories shut down, and it ends up killing their town.

The film itself is basically a documentary, which is no surprise to anyone who has seen Zhao's previous work, most notably 'The Rider' in 2017. Zhao finds authenticity in using real people, not actors, and the stories they tell... are their stories. There's very little fiction in these films, which once again lends itself to the realness.

Casting the only two actors in the entire film, the brilliant Francis McDormand as the main character Fern, and the equally brilliant David Strathairn, seems to be Zhao dipping her toes into the enormous sea she's about to dive into with Marvel. The two performances, however, are unlike anything these two actors have done before. They are almost non-existent in this film, and that should be taken with every ounce of positivity. They are not McDormand and Strathairn, they are Fern and Dave, and sadly, these characters are lost members of their generation, but certainly not lost on the audience even if they take a 'backseat' to the message of the film. The actors blend into the roles so beautifully, they seem like you've probably passed them a million times without noticing. McDormand even took embodying Fern to a fantastic level of commitment by working, sometimes for months, in the odd jobs that Fern has to work throughout her journey. There is nothing but legitimacy to every action McDormand performs, and every choice Fern makes. You believe everything.

This is such a brilliant way to use these actors, because, ultimately... it is not their story. It's so rare you have a film where the characters are both 'moot' and yet compelling. This speaks to Zhao's ability to tell a story using all the tools at her disposal, and sometimes that means your character or your Academy-Award winning actors step back and let everything else in the film do the talking. Using the real 'Nomads' in the film, rather than actors, once again just adds that previously mentioned legitimacy. The feel of the film can be a little surreal, as it does feel part fact and part fiction, but it is unlike so many films out there because of it's focus on true experience rather than spectacle or imagination. What is truly surreal is how Zhao can find such a unique balance in everything she creates, it is a deft touch that very few filmmakers have.

The only real downside to the film is that it isn't overly imaginative when it comes to conveying the story. This fits with Zhao's focus on realism, but the cinematography and story beats were all quite safe. There was no flair, which can make the story drag a little. The uncompromising performance of McDormand and the heart of the story is what drives it. It will be extremely interesting to see what Zhao does with Eternals, which will ironically could a very formulaic story that will require much more filmmaking flair.

Nomadland, as mentioned, is unlike so many films out there because of its uncompromising nature. There is nary another filmmaker out there with the type of laser like focus of Chloe Zhao. The story itself may be specifically about one generation, but because of the amazing connection to its characters, and the empathy Zhao and McDormand craft, it will speak to anyone who has felt they were a part of a lost generation. And that... is the largest cinematic universe.

Nomadland is scheduled to have a wider (yet probably limited) release December 4 2020.

Grade: (B)

I had the opportunity to see this at TIFF this September, and from what I hear, director David Mackenzie then cut the film down by more than 20 minutes (after the feedback of the TIFF audiences, and his own artistic instincts)

This film had to have been a passion project for Mackenzie, because he had to know this story, this version anyway, would be forever compared to Braveheart. It's inevitable. However, I was surprised that Mackenzie, a man who brought us the amazing, Academy award nominated Hell or High Water, also brought us Outlaw King, as the film was pummelled with hopelessness. There is a tiny bit of humour, there is a tiny bit of heart, but it became a long road of suffering, and that's even compared to the tragic ending of Braveheart.

I wish it had more of the same mix of life and drama that Hell or High Water had.

I'm reminded of an interesting experience four years ago, at TIFF 2014. Over-hearing what some people were saying online on film forums, and in line waiting for Antoine Fuqua's The Equalizer, many were discussing "Is this a Festival film?".

It was arguably the most elitist thing I've heard about a film (and I've been to film school, where elitists thrive) because I always thought of film as something that engages everyone, and festivals are an amazing way to create awareness and engagement from the casual film-goer to those aforementioned elitists.

Why Director Steve McQueen's Widows reminded me of this experience is because the two films, on the surface, have much in common. Both Fuqua and McQueen enjoyed tremendous critical success with some of their previous films, even directing actors to Oscar-winning roles. Both men are a strong proponent of this generations' growing diversification in terms of directors; mentors to help young minority filmmakers find their own voice. Both men, when releasing these respected films in the Equalizer and Widows, based the films off an older television show, and created films that have much more of an action or thriller atmosphere than their previous resume.

And both, in my opinion, played it safe.

When I reviewed The Equalizer, I thought it unfortunately fell back on action movie tropes and convenience; that Fuqua, who had pushed the boundaries of drama and action before, didn't take any chances. McQueen, sadly, took a page out of that book with Widows.

The story follows four women, lead by Veronica (the amazing Viola Davis) who come together after Veronica's husband, Harry (Liam Neeson) and his crew of criminals are killed during a heist. Veronica then gathers most of the widows as they need to pull off another job to help settle things in their life, and with an angered gang leader, who was the individual Harry robbed. 1.jpg If Davis and Neeson aren't enough of a draw for you (and they should be, as they most definitely carry the film) then might I add that this is one of the greatest ensembles put together I have seen in a long time. Icons like Robert Duvall, big names like Colin Farrell, new stars like Elizabeth Debicki and Daniel Kaluuya, action mavens like Michelle Rodriguez, and some of the best actors television has offered in recent memory with names like Jon Bernthal (Walking Dead, Punisher), Carrie Coon (Fargo) and Brian Tyree Henry (Atlanta). This was the draw for me. I couldn't believe what a collective McQueen had assembled.

I can only assume they believed in the project, however, after viewing the film, I no longer believe. I felt so many of the characters were stereotypes, archetypes or any other kind of type. Tom Mulligan (Duvall) and Jatemme Mannin (Kaluuya) stuck out the most. Both characters, who were antagonists were simply there to be hated, and in every way did McQueen play up the villainous tropes. Mulligan was just a mean-old-coot with all the characteristics we've come to hate about this burgeoning America; he was rich, white, racist and politically corrupt. A subtle comment on social equality and today's western world? Perhaps... but not that subtle. His character didn't even completely seem necessary. Jack Mulligan, his son (played by Colin Farrell) was the more interesting and layered character, caught between his father's crimes, his hatred for his father, yet still pushing to maintain the legacy and safety his family has built. If you removed the older Mulligan, the film would have remained pretty much the same which is a true waste of Duvall's talents. Kaluuya, who broke out in last years' Get Out was the biggest waste. His Jatemme was another character that could have either been amalgamated or cut completely. While the character had almost nothing to give a solid actor like Kaluuya, I even found the way he was played was too over-the-top villainous, throwing paraplegics from wheelchairs and killing without reason or remorse.

There were several aspects of the cast I was excited about, yet ultimately disappointed with. I was excited about Bernthal and Coon, but they're barely in the film. Even Neeson has very limited screen time, his role mostly comprised of flashbacks. Debicki is another gifted actor whose character was not given enough time or development to give the actor a chance. I would dare say that with the exception of Davis (again) almost all of the characters were one-dimensional.

Without Davis' Veronica, there is almost no one or nothing to latch onto in the story, (This may in fact be one of the downfalls of such a large ensemble and such an ambitious story). Luckily with Davis at the helm, steering this otherwise sinking ship, you can at least enjoy another powerful performance by this seasoned and award-winning actor. Veronica also represents the main point of the film, which is McQueen's focus on creating strong female characters. The Widows are in fact quite strong, one way or another, many of. I think with more time and a better rounded script, they could have all shown that. Sadly, once again, it seemed like the easy answer was to show physical prowess instead of inner strength or intellect; showing how fast Cynthia Erivo's Belle can run, showing Michelle Rodriguez's trademark Latina attitude, or showing Viola Davis' impressive musculature. Davis was the only character who on more than one occasion showed true inner strength and intellect, as she was not only capable of being Harry's equal in terms of planning and leading a heist, but perhaps even out-doing him.

Yet that subtext falls flat in many of the other characters. McQueen and his co-writer Gillian Flynn constantly attempt to show strength in these women, but fall just short. They constantly try to convey other sub-textual elements like the class war, or the way men treat women, but again, fall short. They merely introduce concepts and perhaps give them one other small moment within the film, but I never found any theme truly woven throughout the story. The element that was the biggest disappointment to me wasn't McQueen's direction, it was Flynn's writing - I was enamored with Gone Girl (ironically also released in 2014) as I thought the development, the twists, and ironically again, the breadth of strong female characters was near perfect.

For Flynn to be so near-perfect in her previous screenwriting endeavor, to create such intrigue, to masterfully reveal twists, and to develop the depth of character she did makes this endeavor that much more disappointing. Granted, she was adapting her own novel at the time, but she certainly has the writing talent and the tools available to have made Widows something special, or exhilarating, but instead it falls flat in every respect. The so-called twists especially were completely wasted. Mid way through the film, there is a major revelation that could have taken the story in so many different directions, and yet, once again, it went in the safest route possible.

Everything about Widows whispered "missed opportunity" to me, and I call it a whisper because the experience of viewing it was akin to waiting quietly, patiently, but then ultimately realizing my expectations were never going to be fulfilled. While the film starts with some intrigue and excitement, it becomes more and more predictable. The conclusion has been seen several times before in one iteration or another, and especially after the conclusion, I realized there were several plot holes and that my suspension of disbelief for some of the cinematic convenience had been stretched too thin over too much time. You may think I'm simply being too overly critical (even for a guy who has a job title with 'critic' in it), but the fact is, there were reactions from my fellow audience members that were inexplicably inappropriate. There were several moments where I'm positive the scene was projected to be dramatic or sad, but some TIFF goers were laughing. That's a serious issue that goes past someone's terrible individual sense of humor, that's a failure of the director and the actors to convey the intended tone and emotion.

You can't argue that a film like Widows, with its pedigree of direction, writing and one of the most impressive casts recruited is a Festival Film. Having seen the packed house at TIFF, you also can't argue that it will have thousands of fans clamoring to see it in theaters. What I can argue is whether it is the film it could have been. Flynn could have written a much tauter thriller. McQueen could have balanced the characters and pace of the film better. The actors could have tried to create more depth rather than surface level tropes. The potential with this group of artists far exceeds what was actually presented, but more importantly, so much of the movie has been done before. This goes beyond simply remaking a television show, but telling the story in a cinematic manner that is neither original nor inspired. I merely felt with all the talent this film had going in, what came out of it made Widows my most disappointing film at TIFF this year.