A wealthy sheik (Amr Waked) hopes to introduce his beloved sport of fly-fishing into the dry, dusty landscape of Yemen. For Harriet Chetwood-Talbot (Emily Blunt), who is the sheik’s representative, it’s a project that is both challenging and possible. For public relations queen Patricia Maxwell (Kristin Scott Thomas), it’s something of a coup – a way to “warm up Anglo-Arab relations.” But for Dr. Alfred Jones (Ewan McGregor), a leading fisheries expert, it’s a “plainly ridiculous” pipe dream to try to create salmon fishing in such a hostile environment. His science tells him that salmon thrive in Scotland not in a desert nation halfway around the world.

Fishing in the desert is really a metaphor for having faith and hope in the most ludicrous of ideas, Blunt comnmented during filmmaking. “It’s really a lovely idea,” she said about the concept of swimming upstream, against all odds.

Based on Paul Torday’s 2006 best-selling novel, the film centres on the fisheries scientist and the project leader as they tackle the impossible and fall in love along the journey. Shot in England, Scotland and Morocco the landscapes and stunning visuals fuel the romance and idealism of this contemporary fable.

Directed by Lasse Halström (Chocolat, The Shipping News) and written by Simon Beaufoy (The Full Monty, Slumdog Millionaire), this high-concept romance is in incredibly capable hands. The casting of McGregor, Blunt and Scott Thomas is inspired – all three have impressive film resumes, with Trainspotting and Star Wars movies, The Devil Wears Prada and The English Patient, respectively among them. They sparkle onscreen alongside Egyptian actor Waked as Sheikh Muhammed, who believes in faith, fate and the possibility of change.

Hope and dreams are not mirages after all. An oasis of faith and love can grow, even in the desert.

These are just some of the questions posed by director Jean-Marc Vallée (C.R.A.Z.Y., The Young Victoria) in his dazzling and thought-provoking film Café de flore (Canada, 2011) the QFA screening at The Empire Theatre on May 9 at 2:00 and 7:30 pm.

There’s an intricate underlying structure at work here, as a pair of seemingly unrelated stories slowly begin to intertwine. The first, set in present day Montreal, follows Antoine (Kevin Parent) who has it all: a woman he loves, two daughters, and a successful career as a DJ. The second takes place in Paris in 1969. It focuses on a devoted single mother named Jacqueline (Vanessa Paradis) and her mentally handicapped son Laurent (Marin Gerrier).

Vallée cuts between the two stories frequently and suddenly, sometimes flashing backwards and forwards within them. It’s a disorienting experience at first as we try to figure out exactly how all the pieces might fit together, but over time a clearer picture begins to take shape.

Both narratives start out happily enough but neither Jacqueline nor Antoine lead charmed lives. Feelings of betrayal and resentment begin to affect them in different ways. In Jacqueline’s case, she directs these emotions at a new playmate of Laurent’s, who suddenly occupies all his attention. The two become inseparable and Jacqueline feels replaced and forgotten. In Antoine’s story, he himself becomes the object of hatred due to his romantic entanglements.

Both stories are thematically linked and even as their resolutions diverge, the link between them becomes more and more evident. Café de flore is a redemptive experience with an unusual twist.

Showings at: The CORE Centre, Belleville Public Library and The Empire Theatre
Festival Pass: $30 for Adult or $15 for Students/Unwaged
On sale at: The Empire, QAC office and numerous other locations

A Festival Pass gives you admission to over 30 films, and includes the Friday and Saturday Galas
Complete details at www.downtowndocfest.ca or call 613-966-5852

by Mike Lake
A skilful blend of comedy and drama, The Artist relies on film making techniques from a bygone era to tell a charmingly simple love story. Though its silent, black-and-white style hearkens back to the past, the film feels timeless thanks to the romance at its core.

The movie opens in 1927, near the end of the silent film era. Movie star George Valentin (played by Jean Dujardin) meets aspiring actress Peppy Miller (played by Bérénice Bejo) at the premiere of his latest film.

The chemistry between the two is immediate, and soon the fresh-faced Miller is the talk of the town. But as her stardom grows Valentin’s career stalls. Rooted in the past, he sees no future for “talkies” and his dismissive attitude toward them sets him up for a potential disaster.

The central relationship in The Artist is vital to the film’s success, and both actors do a wonderful job conveying the budding romance. Director Michel Hazanavicius wisely chose two people with extraordinarily expressive faces as his leads.

As Valentin, Dujardin is charming and witty – his ear-to-ear grin almost never leaves his face. Bejo’s key feature is her eyes. Whether wide with delight or blinking away tears, they’re impossible to ignore. Both actors earned well-deserved Oscar nominations for their work in The Artist (the film received 10 nominations in all).

It’s also interesting to note that although the two stars of The Artist probably won’t be familiar to North American viewers, the film’s supporting cast is filled with such notable names as John Goodman and James Cromwell. It is fun to see these well-known performers working within the very different style of acting this film requires.

While the story of The Artist is generally a simple one, the movie is not without surprises. For example, while it’s obvious that Hazanavicius has a great love for silent film, he’s not married to the format. He bends his own self-imposed rules to find some clever uses for sound.

Despite having a mostly optimistic tone, The Artist does venture into darker territory at times. A superbly expressive score by Ludovic Bource helps in pulling off some of these tricky tonal shifts. Whether it’s with an upbeat piano-driven tune or a more dramatic violin-heavy number, Bource’s music always finds just the right note.

The film also employs songs from a handful of artists from the period, including Duke Ellington, Rose Murphy and Red Nichols. It all adds to the effect, transporting you back to a different time. At first glance, it might be tempting to dismiss The Artist as a novelty, or an exercise in technique, but to do so would be missing the point. Simply put, The Artist is a love letter to cinema and a reminder that in an age where blockbusters dominate at the box office, movies don’t have to be big and flashy to make an impact.

The Artist screens on March 28, 2012 at 2 p.m. and 7:30 p.m at the Empire Theatre in downtown Belleville. Tickets are available at The Empire Box Office.

From the opening shot of leaves upturned in the wind and billowing clouds taking on threatening shapes, you sense something is not right.

Curtis LaForche (Michael Shannon) senses it too. Looking anxiously to the sky, he studies the clouds, hears the thunder and rubs drops of dark rain between his fingertips.

LaForche has a good life in the American Midwest. He is the crew chief of a sand mining company and with his wife Samantha (Jessica Chastain) and daughter Hannah, who is deaf, has an overall happy home.

But something is brewing in Curtis’s consciousness. With a sudden crack of thunder and a white flash of lightning, this sane and stable man slowly begins to unravel.

His dreams start to haunt him – dreams he believes are heralding the actual end of the world. He continues on his daily journey, trying to get help from doctors and answers from his mentally ill mother, but that doesn’t bring him any peace.

Curtis’s unsettling dreams of dark skies and poison rain morph menacingly into nightmares about attacks, violence and horror. Suddenly those he loves – his trusted dog, his beloved wife and best friend/co-worker – all become threats born from his own mind. Curtis becomes more withdrawn and more obsessed and begins building a storm shelter in the backyard.

What is brilliant about this movie is the threat itself. There is no axe-wielding murderer or horrible demon made from special effects. What drives the fear are the thoughts within. This is the horror of real life, not the supernatural world.

Nor is there much violence. The threat always bubbles below the surface and when it does come crashing out it is frothing at the mouth, frightening to the core and filled with hysteria.

The film is drenched in a mounting, excruciating anxiety that something terrible this way comes. Layered on top of all of that is the suspicion that the main character is simply and tragically mentally ill, just another misguided doomsdayer with a sign reading, ‘The End Is Nigh.’

Pacing is everything in this movie. Some will call it plodding, with scene after scene of mundane moments. Nonetheless, the excruciating sameness creates a reality not often achieved in feature films and builds the suspense, because we are lulled into the calm before the storm.

All of the acting is top-notch. Shannon’s measured performance is immediately likeable and relatable and Chastain’s understated grace shines through in every moment, just as it did so beautifully in The Tree of Life.

But the real star here is the Apocalypse itself. That overarching character permeates every scene, even though it is off-screen and out on the horizon, for most of the film.

It might be out of sight, but it is always there.

The End Is Near.

And it’s closer than we think.

In his film The Guard, Irish-born writer-director John Michael McDonagh takes the ‘buddy cop comedy’ formula popularized in Hollywood and infuses it with his own unique sensibilities. The result is a hilarious, foul-mouthed and at times, strangely poignant film.

The central plot begins with Gerry Boyle (Brendan Gleeson), a sergeant with the Irish police, investigating a mysterious murder in a small town. Soon, it becomes apparent the victim is tied in with a ring of drug traffickers and Boyle finds himself paired up with Wendell Everett (Don Cheadle), an FBI agent sent over to track down a large shipment of cocaine.

Everett’s function in the movie is simple enough – he’s the businesslike, by-the-book straight man. As you might expect, it’s the Boyle character that gets the much more complex, layered treatment. The Guard received a nomination for the Grand Jury Prize at the Sundance Film Festival earlier this year and Boyle is unquestionably a big part of the film’s appeal.

Right from the film’s opening moments, it’s apparent Boyle doesn’t have a politically-correct bone in his body. He’s the kind of man who knows how to find people’s buttons, and who delights in pushing them as often as possible. Soon enough, Everett learns this firsthand. As he briefs the local cops about the smugglers they’ll be chasing, he shows a series of mug shots. Noticing each suspect is white, Boyle brings the proceedings to a screeching halt. “I thought only black lads were drug dealers?” he remarks with mock confusion, momentarily stunning the African-American FBI man. Furthermore, Boyle has what you might call a questionable moral compass. In other words, he’s not at all averse to breaking the laws he’s supposed to be upholding. If this means stealing drugs from a crime scene or spending a day off cavorting with a pair of hookers, well then, so be it.

But as Boyle and Everett are forced to work together, Everett soon learns his partner’s tactless manner conceals a surprisingly cunning mind. When he’s inclined to be, Boyle can be as principled and honourable as any lawman. A grudging respect grows between the two cops (although Boyle never lets up with his ribbing, seizing any opportunity to take his FBI counterpart down a peg).

Much of Boyle’s humanity comes out in scenes showing his relationship with his terminally-ill mother, Eileen (Fionnula Flanagan). In their early conversations as the two banter back and forth about drug use and sexual escapades, the source of Boyle’s offbeat sense of humour is revealed. Later, these talks take on a more solemn tone, but McDonagh shows a deft touch and smartly avoids letting things get maudlin. Even when The Guard is at its most serious, the uproariously funny dialogue is there to break the tension and keep you laughing.

While Boyle gets many of the best lines in the script and is the film’s most complex character, he’s far from being the only interesting person onscreen. As their investigation heats up, Boyle and Everett interact with a host of fascinating people, including a cowboy hat-wearing IRA member, numerous unhelpful locals and a crew of sociopathic gangsters who quote Nietzsche and debate the merits of Bertrand Russell and Dylan Thomas.

Ultimately, McDonagh seems uninterested in formulating a needlessly intricate procedural about a drug deal. Indeed, much of the story seems to come together almost by happenstance. His film succeeds not because of its plotting, but because of his gift for creating characters, giving them unique voices and personalities, and putting them on a collision course.

In the documentary Project Nim (UK, 2011) Jenny Lee is asked how her mother could have possibly agreed to have a newborn chimpanzee come and live with their family in New York City. Lee’s answer is simple, but it speaks volumes: “It seemed natural. It was the Seventies,” she tells the interviewer.

Lee’s mother, Stephanie LaFarge, was a psychology student at Columbia University in 1973 when Professor Herb Terrace recruited her and her family for an incredible task – have a chimp live with a human family and try to see if it could acquire communication skills through sign language.
The experiment was dubbed Project Nim, named after the baby primate who was taken from his mother at the Oklahoma Institute for Primate Studies and transplanted to live with the LaFarge family of homo sapiens and learn to communicate with them.

Given the decade, with its focus on philosophical and psychological questions, it might have seemed like a natural 1970s thing to do. But was it? Nim may have learned to behave around, communicate with and mimic back to his human hosts, but was he still a wild animal at heart?

It’s not giving too much away to say the project had limited success, but it’s those early moments in the documentary when he is surrounded by his first human family that are perhaps the most telling.
Nim adapts quickly to the LaFarge household. We see him playing, chasing the family dog, running in the backyard, swinging from branches, eating, smiling and embracing his new parents, brothers and sisters. Some of these moments are recreated by the documentary team, but most come from astounding archival footage.
Nim behaves like any small child – angelic one moment and out-of-control the next. Stephanie and her family adapt and take the high-maintenance addition under their wing. To mix metaphors, Nim becomes the ultimate black sheep, who is also the very definition of most loved but problem child.

The documentary takes a sombre turn when Nim is taken away from the LaFarges and is studied more intently at Columbia, while living with a group of academics at an estate outside the city. His various teachers recount the highs and lows of his learning and he eventually learns a vocabulary of over 120 words.
But it’s the third act of this real-life drama that is most heart-wrenching and that asks the most serious ethical and philosophical questions about the project. What is the missing link in the connection between humans and primates and where is that chain broken? Can Nim be nurtured into behaving like a person or is his true nature really that of a beast? And perhaps more importantly, which should have come first…The Nim Project or Nim himself?

This documentary, from the Oscar winning team behind Man on Wire, is rife with deep questions about nature, medical ethics and human treatment of animals. Its effective use of live interviews, video montages, stunning photojournalism and a wonderful musical score heighten the experience.
But it’s looking into Nim’s eyes on the screen that speaks the loudest.
Project Nim screens at 2 p.m. and 7:30 p.m. on Nov. 9, 2011 at the Empire Theatre in downtown Belleville.

Coming Nov. 23 at 2 p.m. and 7:30 p.m.
SARAH’S KEY (France, 2011, subtitled)

It is July, 1942 in Paris, and ten-year-old Sarah Starzynski (Mélusine Mayance) knows something is wrong. There is a panic spreading through the city. The French gendarmes, supposedly under order from the Vichy government and Nazi occupiers, are going door-to-door arresting Jewish families and imprisoning them in the Vélodrome d’Hiver. Little does Sarah know that, after the imprisonment, they will be sent to Nazi death camps. In a final attempt to save her family, she locks her four-year-old brother, Michel in a bedroom cupboard—their secret hiding place. She promises to return for him, but she and her parents are dragged from their home forever.
Sixty years later, journalist Julia Jarmond (Kristin Scott Thomas) is assigned to write a cover story on the Vel’d’Hiv roundup of 1942. American by birth, Julia has been living in Paris for more than twenty years, and is married to Bertrand Tézac (Frédéric Pierrot), an unfaithful man from an old French bloodline. What begins as research for her article becomes more personal when Julia discovers that she and Sarah have something in common, prompting her to change her outlook on her husband, her adopted nation and herself. Julia discovers that the apartment owned by Bertrand’s family was acquired when the former Jewish occupants were dispossessed and deported sixty years before.
Based on Tatiana de Rosnay’s bestselling novel.