Creepy, committed, cutthroat and cocky people
The early jump scares, along with the voyeuristic camera and creepy human behaviour, make no secret of The Gift’s frightful intentions.
But this indie pulse-raiser is more of a stealth shocker than an overt one, even if the twisted payoff is telegraphed to anyone paying attention.
The hook is trying to figure out what’s really on the mind of Gordo, the character played by actor/ screenwriter Joel Edgerton in his promising directing debut. Gordo is a former high school friend of Jason Bateman’s Simon, who reconnects with his long-lost (but not forgotten) chum after Simon and his spouse Robyn (Rebecca Hall) move to L.A. from Chicago.
Simon and Robyn found a great house in the Hollywood Hills, and his job as a security systems expert and her job as an interior designer should keep them busy.
They’d like to be even busier, with an ankle-biter running around, but Mother Nature is sadly not co-operating.
All too eager to please is quietly insistent Gordo, whose constants gifts and hospitality start to chafe the suspicious Simon, who recalls that his classmate used to be called “Gordo the weirdo.”
The guileless Robyn just sees a socially inept guy who could use a friend or two.
Eventually even Robyn faces reality, but by then her fears have multiplied. Peter Howell Jerry Rothwell’s Canada/U.K. coproduction tells the story of the environmental pioneers who in 1971 began the antinuke protests that led to the creation of Greenpeace and the green movement itself.
Almost a “found footage” movie, it makes excellent use of1,500 archived 16 mm reels supplemented with fresh interviews and some animation.
The doc reveals how idealism, bravery and accident (“Greenpeace” was originally a banner slogan) came together to forge a global movement to save the planet.
The first act of defiance by these Vancouver-based stalwarts was to sail into a nuclear test zone. They captured major media attention as they bravely took on foes much bigger than themselves: the warmongers of the Nixon Administration, who planned to explode a five-megaton atomic bomb on the Alaskan island of Amchitka. After that tense confrontation, they fearlessly faced down the harpoons of Russian whalers who were illegally harvesting immature whales, and an international movement was born.
There’s both comedy and drama in the disparate personalities who bonded, struggled and clashed: the late Bob Hunter, an ex-journalist and reluctant leader; firebrand Paul Watson, still a no-surrender warrior against whalers; and pragmatic Patrick Moore, whose moderate vision is too corporate for many. Peter Howell Leah Fay Goldstein plays an actress with marginal talent. Fortunately, she really can act, otherwise Diamond Tongues would be a serious waste of time.
Instead, thanks to Goldstein’s performance and a smart screenplay that knows its subject well — the life of struggling thespians — it’s a film of dark wit and uncommon depth.
The story follows the travails of Edith (Goldstein) as life delivers one blow after another, including roommate Clare (Leah Wildman), who’s more talented and successful and exboyfriend Ben, who lands the lead in a low-budget horror film despite having no experience. David John Phillips is devastating as predatory acting coach Derek.
The film starts out with Edith, cast as “annoyed customer” extra, engaging in small talk with a bored crew guy. With her bleached blond hair and ruby lips, she comes across as childlike.
But there are far darker currents below the surface and it’s amazing how well the neophyte Goldstein captures a character whose envy, craftiness and ambition make her both unlikeable yet totally believable.
But there is faint hope for Edith in a script laden with mordant humour that offers a climactic scene in which she begins to see her true self, offering hope for redemption. Bruce DeMara Murray Foster is clearly a serious anglophile.
(Well, perhaps “serious” isn’t the right word.)
How else to explain The Cocksure Lads, a musical comedy about a fourman British retro-pop band, who arrive in Toronto for their first North American gig hoping to become “wildly rich and famous”?
The film is the brainchild of Foster, a bass player for Great Big Sea who, along with Mike Foster — both of the defunct Toronto band, Moxy Fruvous — have put together a slew of toe-tapping tunes to accompany Foster’s screenplay about four fairly daft lads from over the pond who spend a day in the city fighting, drinking and chasing women, with varying degrees of success.
The dialogue is festooned with lots of Brit-isms such as “wanker,” “bollocks” and “wellies” (rubber boots that drummer Blakey, played by Edward Hillier, likes to wear in the bath.) There’s even a song called “Mushy Peas.”
The day starts off with a big to-do when lead singer, Dusty Fosterboard (Lyndon Ogbourne), demands 50 per cent of the band’s earnings and abruptly quits — jeopardizing their impending performance.
The film is engaging and well-cast and Peter Higginson is delightfully understated as the band’s aged and world-weary retainer, Monty. Bruce DeMara