Stronger

What is it with "based on a true story" movies set in Boston and directed by a man named David where a foul-mouthed matriarch, cigarette always in hand, emotionally manipulates her son despite the protestations of a supportive girlfriend? If you've seen one, you've seen 'em all.

I kid, of course; but there are similarities between David O. Russell's 2010 boxer biopic The Fighter and David Gordon Green's Stronger that are less-than-superficial. Sure, we've upgraded from Mark Wahlberg to Jake Gyllenhaal in the lead role (imagine taking your 1983 Cutlass to the shop and they loan you a brand new Chrysler) and made a lateral move from Amy Adams to Tatiana Maslany (I'm being generous to a fellow Canadian), but Stronger is still occasionally the kind of flatly polished prestige picture that mistakes "loud" for "meaningful". And, yes, there are Accents with a capital A.

The inspiration for the film is the memoir of Jeff Bauman, a man who lost both legs in the terror attack that took place near the finish line of the Boston Marathon in 2013. Bauman is played by Gyllenhaal, who immediately puts his charm to use constructing a lovable scamp, irresponsible and undependable but "He's Trying". He has been dumped several times by Erin (Maslany) and decides to wait for her at the end of the marathon to prove he can show up. The rest is, literally, history. The two leads capably shoulder the weight of the film and their performances remain mostly measured even as they slip in and out of melodramatic Oscar-bait screaming matches.

Jake Gyllenhaal and Tatiana Maslany are left with much of the legwork in Stronger.

As a director, Green has historically been at his best when trafficking in the weird and intimate — films like Prince Avalanche and George Washington far outshine his broader, typically comedic, efforts. These instincts serve him well here even if they can't completely salvage the film. Moments of Jeff having the dressings changed on his wounds, trying to shower and use the toilet alone for the first time, and otherwise adapting to a brand new day-to-day play out with contemplative, quiet empathy. Green's outsider perspective also subtly turns a critical eye on the hashtag optimism that begat the film's title; you can almost feel the camera wince every time someone says "Boston Strong". Traces of trauma eventually fade away for a Hollywood ending, but for a while Bauman is styled as a draining battery, a vessel for everyone's needs with minimal regard for his own. The core of Stronger is not its inspirational parading, but in the idea that being a symbol of strength makes weakness inexcusable instead of inevitable. If only that message wasn't lost on the filmmakers.

Part of our AIFF 2017 Review Roundup.

All the Wild Horses

(Dir. Ivo Marloh, 2017)

If you've ever wondered what it's like to ride in the world's longest endurance derby or to try your luck atop the understandably nervous, semi-wild horses of the Mongolian Steppe, you can now glimpse some of the ways such an excursion might end for you. You can even do so without paying thousands of dollars for entry. A sweeping shot of a herd of Steppe horses rumbling across the same vast terrain that Genghis Khan once rumbled across is a gorgeous introduction to the unmarked route. There is a lot of physical beauty in what the Mongol Derby racers face.

A Steppe horse huddle

Many of these adventure seekers, whose day jobs range from jockey to IT professional and who are all non-Mongolian, have little idea of what else to expect. Filming for three years and riding for two of those years, director Ivo Marloh and crew follow several characters as they face a plethora of personal triumphs and disasters. Some wrangle the fiercest steeds while others suffer severe dehydration and broken vertebrae. Given the conflict of wills between humans and horses, these crises aren't surprising.

While occasionally ridden, many Steppe horses are kept semi-wild to better ensure their self-sufficiency and survival.

What is surprising is the notable lack of local commentary on the goings-on. We learn in the post-screening Q & A that the Mongol families who own the herds and feed the riders are compensated by the derby for their hospitality and horses. The film features brief comments between family members, but what could have been an interesting perspective on events that take place in their literal back yards is left completely unexplored.

The daily tensions that are explored are well built. Whether viewers are inclined to cheer for determined characters or feel relief when the same are penalized for overtaxing the animals, viewers aren't left uncaring. The Atlantic International Film Festival was the film's second stop after Ireland, but Marloh mentions possible negotiations with Netflix. If sales go according to plan, these bucking horses and their nervous riders will have many more curious viewers in their future.

Part of our AIFF 2017 Review Roundup

Dim the Fluorescents

FIN kicked off their Park Lane takeover with a film from this year's Slamdance Film Festival. For the unacquainted, Slamdance is the younger, cheaper version of Sundance. The festival offers a venue to the lowest-budgeted of low-budget indie films. Dim the Fluorescents, which made use of an Indiegogo campaign to fund its budget of about $15,000, found a welcome home at the festival, winning the Grand Jury Prize for Best Narrative Feature.

Audrey (Claire Armstrong) and Lillian (Naomi Skwarna).

At a festival designed for struggling artists, the story surely hit home. Audrey (Claire Armstrong) and Lillian (Naomi Skwarna) are friends, roommates, and artistic partners. Unable to find a part in a play or a theatre to back their scripts, they make a living performing corporate role-play demonstrations. As the opening scene establishes, the two take the job quite seriously; never has an office seen this kind of dramatic flair. Audrey plays a customer service representative and Lillian plays a disgruntled customer. Not only was her order wrong, but her life is in shambles. Audrey calms Lillian from a near nervous breakdown, and seals the customer service deal by ensuring the order will be fixed. This role-play establishes the character's actual chemistry for the rest of the film; two passionate performers awkwardly trying to hold it all together, often onstage. Audrey, the calm rationalist, and Lillian, the emotional firecracker, tend to walk a tense tightrope between pathos and comedy.

The film does well with its small budget. Some elements of the film are rather cliched indie tendencies; economic anxieties of characters who are actually middle class, quirky humor, mannered speech that doesn't seem to replicate any existing human beings. Still, the talky script gives plenty of material for its two little-known stars to tear through. The two female leads are rounded characters beyond "manic pixie dream girl" conventions, stuck in a relationship with each other and their art, where it's hard to tell if passion is holding them back or keeping them alive. After an interesting and unusual timeline split, the characters wind up back onstage for a messy, melodramatic, meta final act somewhat reminiscent of Birdman. Though the film falters at times, it's not bad for a directorial debut and even better as a vehicle for its actresses, brought to life with an independent spirit and admirable risk-taking.

Part of our AIFF 2017 Review Roundup.

Long Time Running

A chord plays, then another. You've heard it before — in a bar, on the radio, at a campfire. In Canadian culture, the music of The Tragically Hip is anthemic and omnipresent. In Long Time Running, the new documentary about the band's final tour, directors Jennifer Baichwal and Nick de Pencier waste no time establishing that fact with shots of all-ages crowds singing along from coast to coast. They return to this image frequently, building a relationship between band and fan that stretches far beyond the 30 year lifespan of the act.

Most music docs rely on enjoyment of (or, at a minimum, familiarity with) the artist's back catalog. Hip frontman Gord Downie wanted to create a viewing experience that offered something more: according to Baichwal, his personal request was for her to "make the type of film [that he had] never seen". He'd be relieved, then, to hear that the film stands firmly on its own merits.

Gord Downie performs with bandmates Gord Sinclair and Rob Baker.

More than a simple tour travelogue or concert film, this is a story so rich and human that screenwriters everywhere will feel a twinge of jealousy. In early 2016, Downie was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. After a series of treatments, including a surgery to remove his temporal lobe, he and his bandmates agreed to tempt fate and move forward with plans for a tour in support of their latest album, Man Machine Poem. Though Downie needs several teleprompters to even remember the lyrics to his own songs, the camera shows us a man possessed by melody and still roiling with rockstar charisma. His illness is not framed as a focus, but the suffering and catharsis he experiences are impossible to miss as they play out on a national scale.

Long Time Running finds its truth in natural moments that are packed with emotion. There is pure and reciprocal gratitude when a costume designer stitches her favorite lyrics inside a hat she is making to be worn on stage, and when Downie kisses his bandmates before each show and thanks them sincerely for staying by his side. There is wrenching pain as the tour comes to a close and he wails an anguished "no" into the microphone, not ready for it — for everything — to be over. Like its subject, the film doesn't so much confront mortality; it simply admits it, facing it down with grace and passion and dignity, and thus is able to transcend it. The song you've heard before is one that will continue to play for a long, long time.

Part of our AIFF 2017 Review Roundup.