After a morning at the Scotiabank watching the latest Zach Braff joint, The High Cost of Living, for REEL CANADA, I struggle through a workday and eventually leave early for the specific and exclusive purpose of napping. En route to the hotel, though, I run into a non-TIFF-related pal who I was supposed to have drinks with in August (failed), so we end up going to Biermarket at King and Portland and having two rounds of much needed pick-me-up-beers, after which I really did go to the hotel for a nap.

The nap proved to be the best idea I ever had, because it allowed me to stay awake during Stake Land, which I completely loved. Colin’s folks were in town, so I sat next to his mom during the film, and when it was over she leaned forward and introduced herself to director Jim Mickle’s parents. They shared a “our sons were just on the stage together” moment, and Jim’s mom told the most adorable story of how they took him to see a Dario Argento film at Midnight Madness when he was just 15 or 16 years old. The cutest.

Top three highlights of the day:

1) Running into my friend Adam, which meant I had someone to have a pre-nap drink with (because doing it alone would have been sad).

2) Meeting Stake Land director Jim Mickle’s mom and being able to sincerely tell her that I thought her son’s film was super awesome.

3) The fact that I get to sleep in tomorrow AND get a day off from TIFF for a good friend’s wedding.

Werner Herzog’s 3-D documentary, Cave of Forgotten Dreams, was such a must-see for me that it is the only film I voluntarily got up this early for (I also did this for Heartbeats, but it was sort of a work assignment). Coffee and Starbucks breakfast sandwich in hand, I shuffle in just a couple of minutes before it’s going to start and end up sitting way too close, so that some of the 3-D is headache-inducingly blurry. By all accounts, it looked amazing from better seats, so I won’t fault the film for my lateness.

The film is quite beautiful, but in light of recent YouTube sensations like “Herzog reads Curious George” and “Herzog reads Where’s Waldo” (spoofs on the filmmaker’s signature style of hilariously intense style) the voiceover narration seems almost like a parody. The man is slowly becoming a caricature of himself, but it doesn’t diminish my deep love for him one bit.

Spoiler alert (if there can be such a thing when talking about a doc about prehistoric cave paintings): Herzog concludes the film with some shots of albino crocodiles from a nearby rainforest greenhouse/biodome. Last year, when presenting Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans at TIFF, Herzog was asked to explain the iguana and crocodile shots in that film. He gleefully replied that he’s just so fascinated with the creatures that he can’t help but put them into his films. I was understandably delighted to see that even in a film about caves, he managed to sneak in some reptiles.

After the film, a super-amazing meeting with my pal Travis that I can’t discuss yet but promise to reveal everything about (pictures & all) the next time I do any kind of festival diary. Scout’s honour. Not that I was ever a Scout, but I certainly wouldn’t besmirch their good name.

In the evening a quick stop at the hotel before racing to a members’ only cocktail club (I’m a member, because I’m a cocktail nerd), the Toronto Temperance Society, for drinks with the directors of last night’s Midnight film, Red Nights. Anyone who saw the film (and the incredible “dry martini” scene it contains) can guess that these  are no ordinary frenchmen. They are serious booze enthusiasts. I ordered steak & frites from the restaurant below to accompany my cocktails. A girl needs protein to keep her stamina up after eight days of hardcore festivaling!

After drinks, we all head to the Ryerson for a 9:00pm show (for a change) of Monsters, which I was especially thrilled to see because Whitney and Scoot had been so delightful at dinner the night before. I was completely charmed by it. One of my top picks of the festival thus far.

Final stop of the night, the Ryerson for The Butcher, The Chef and The Swordsman, a super fun and unexpectedly wacky entry from mainland China (MM’s first from there). Actually, I spoke too soon. That wasn’t the final stop at all. The final stop was going to Rol San on Spadina after the film with the film’s director, Wuershan, and various others, to satisfy a raging craving for Chinese food that his film brought on.

Upon reflection, today was a good day for eating. Top three highlights:

1) Tasting the Toronto Temperance Society’s Old Fashioned. It’s the best in the city, hands down.

2) Getting to see the 3-D Herzog. I’ve been so stoked for so many months, I would have literally imploded if I slept through that damn thing.

3) Bonding with Travis. It’s nice when you get to spend quality time with friends outside of the festival vortex, even though it is the middle of the festival, and that’s what they’re actually in town for.

But not before I zip to the Hyatt for an interview with Belgian director Koen Mortier, whose film 22nd of May is playing at TIFF, but who really first caught my eye with the bizarre and fabulous Ex Drummer back in 2007. I talk to Koen about his latest film and about upcoming projects, and then Colin joins us briefly to chat. He programmed Ex Drummer, so they’re old friends. I pray that recording the interview on my iPhone worked (it did) and that I’ll have time to transcribe it later that evening (no chance in hell, as it turns out).

Since breakfast was a coffee and lunch was a random pastry, I look forward to some kind of dinner this evening, which materializes in the form of a lovely meal at Marben with a few Midnight Madness guests and the two stars of Monsters, Whitney Able and Scoot McNairy (married in real life, and quite possibly the cutest couple I’ve ever met). Whitney talks some of the non-Canucks into trying caesars, our national drink (and one that’s done quite well at Marben). She’s not Canadian, but she’s got great taste.

Stake Land director Jim Mickle gives the caesar a thumbs up, A Horrible Way to Die screenwriter Simon Barrett reacts as though we’ve forced him to taste barf flavoured poison, and orders some kind of mojito instead. All the cocktails, and the food, were excellent.

After walking off some of the food in the pleasantly cooling early autumn air, we head to the Imperial Pub (a pre-Midnight drinks tradition) then off to Red Nights. It’s a film that definitely divided audiences, but I’m firmly rooted on the “pro” side. It was just slick and just pervy enough for my tastes, without becoming campy or overwrought.

Tomorrow, I get up at 8:00am in order to catch the Herzog doc, Cave of Forgotten Dreams, at 9:00am. I’m not sure why press & industry screenings are stacked so heavily in favour of early mornings, but I’ll tell ya, I do not look forward to getting up at that ungodly hour!

Top three highlights of the day:

1) Eating venison ragout for dinner instead of some stale crust of bread that I find in my purse (or worse yet, a whopper from the Scotiabank), and in delightful company, too.

2) Getting to meet and interview Koen Mortier, whose Ex Drummer totally blew my mind when a friend showed me a bootlegged version in ’08. I hadn’t even met Colin at that point, so when months later we started dating and he was like “I gotta blow your mind with this movie”, I was able to say “already one of my faves”. It was a sure sign that he was the One. Or that I was. Either way.

3) Meeting Bobcat Goldthwait (again). Did I mention yesterday that he was at the A Horrible Way to Die screening, as well? Well, anyway. I have been a huge fan since around the age of six or seven, so I was pretty damn thrilled to find out  that he’s actually a super nice, down to earth, regular type guy who just wants to hang out, watch awesome movies and go to Midnight Madness.

It’s difficult because, in my opinion, Wright shines more brightly in her other TIFF feature, Daniel Cockburn’s debut You Are Here, than she does in Trigger, where her character is just a touch too two-dimensionally acerbic to be completely likable.

Wright plays a former-junkie / local rock icon who’s stayed true to her indie roots over the years. Molly Parker is her former-alcoholic bandmate, now transformed into a slick music exec. When the duo’s old band, Trigger, is set to be honoured at an event, they’re forced into a reunion that brings all the old feelings out. The back and forth between the two actresses works. There’s real chemistry there, filled with real love and hatred and all the other complex things you feel for someone who is, essentially, an “ex”, though not necessarily in a romantic sense (though I’ll say from experience that bandmate relationships can be just as complicated as romantic ones).

I liked the dynamic between the two women, but something still seemed to be missing from the story. Perhaps I couldn’t entirely  buy Molly Parker as an ex rocker, in spite of what is a pretty emotionally complex performance. Perhaps what I couldn’t buy was the possibility that these two would reunite at all, considering the amount of antagonism that seemed to be threatening to boil over at any moment. Or perhaps I just didn’t really like what they’ve become – bitter 12-steppers who miss the old days but are neither brave enough to truly let them go or to truly jump back in. It’s a good relationship film with two very strong leads and a rock’n'roll atmosphere, but it never quite adds up to anything quite as big as I was hoping for.

On the whole, in spite of these minor quibbles, Trigger left me with an overwhelmingly positive feeling, something akin to nostalgia for “old days” that I’m not sure I ever experienced. It takes a skilled director to imbue the atmosphere of such a small, intimate story with enough familiarity to make it possible for me to miss my non-existent drugged-out past, so I commend Bruce McDonald for that.

The Can-con cameos were great as well. David Cronenberg, Sarah Polley and Don McKellar all got a chuckle out of me, and McKellar, Wright’s partner in the film and in real life, was actually pretty brilliant.

I came home  the night of the 18th (not to the hotel, but to my actual home, finally) after the wedding to find an after party of TIFF stragglers who were still in town at this late date. A motley crew of friends, filmmakers and assorted ne’er-do-wells filled our small apartment until 6am, bless their hearts. I didn’t get up until 6:00pm on Sunday, venturing out of the house for dinner and to watch Easy A in the non-TIFF half of the AMC. I could have seen Álex de la Iglesia’s The Last Circus on the TIFF side, but dammit, I needed some brainless fun. And actually, Easy A was really great.

Now that it’s all over and everyone’s left town, I’m really looking forward to my life going back to normal. But of course, I’ll miss the constant stream of amazing movies constantly at my fingertips. I guess that’s where TIFF Bell Lightbox comes in. They’ve already announced theatrical runs of several TIFF hits and their fall programming looks amazing overall. For a while though, I wouldn’t mind just reading books and going to bed at 10:00pm.

Now that a few days have passed and I’ve had some time to reflect on the films that really made an impact on me this TIFF, here are my top five. I’ve got some major regrets (missing Cirkus Columbia, Erotic Man and Tabloid among them) but on the whole I had a really stellar festival.

Here are my top five, in alphabetical order:

1) Curling (Denis Côté) – A slow-paced, contemplative little drama from Quebec about an overprotective single dad and his clever but totally stunted 12 year old daughter. It’s not exactly a thrill-ride of a film, but this languidly unfolding story of strange small town life and one man’s discovery of how fun curling can be really drew me in.

2) A Horrible Way to Die (Adam Wingard) – yes, the screenwriter and producer are friends of mine. Yes, I met the director and actors at TIFF and thought they were the loveliest people ever. But I stand by my opinion that this is one of the smartest independent horror films in recent years, and I can’t wait to see what every last one of them does next.

3) I Saw The Devil (Kim Ji-woon) – So much blood spurting out of heads in this one, and so many inventive scenes of horrifying violence! A genuinely gripping thriller and a surprisingly fresh take on both serial killers and the quest for vengeance. Plus, that Lee Byung-hun is dreeeeeamy.

4) Monsters (Gareth Edwards) – I found the story, the dialogue, the acting and, of course, the monsters, so utterly charming that I can’t recommend it highly enough. It’s slated to come out in select theatres in Canada on November 5th. Don’t miss it, Torontonians.

5) Our Day will Come (Romain Gavras) – This one will invade the fabric of my dreams and my nightmares for quite some time to come. And Vincent Cassel can throw liquor on my naked body and set it on fire any day. I’m just sayin’.

Route Irish centres on Fergus (Mark Womack), a silent, lonely ex soldier who’s recently completed a tour in Iraq. When one of his best friends, Frankie (John Bishop) is killed on duty, Fergus can’t handle it. He knows he was the one who convinced Frankie that going to Iraq was a lucrative gig, and he’s wracked with guilt. Add to that the fact that Frankie’s left behind a girl, Rachel (Andrea Lowe) who Fergus was obviously just as in love with, and you’ve got the makings of a gut-wrenching drama already.

Instead, Loach creates a tension filled thriller in which Fergus tries to find out what really happened to Frankie, armed with nothing but an Iraqi cell phone which was sent to him by Frankie before his death. Frankie was killed on Route Irish, the road from the Green Zone to the Baghdad airport which has been called one of the most dangerous roads in the world. In spite of the danger, Fergus smells something fishy, and cannot accept Frankie’s death as just another tragic wartime accident.

As Fergus delves deeper into the mess of war to try to find out why his friend really died, Rachel tries to gently coax him back into the world of the living. It’s gritty, it’s harsh, it’s a serious downer, and it’s one of the best thrillers I’ve seen in a long while.

Loach maintains the intimate, kitchen-sink-ish feel that makes his films so affecting. Every character’s pain feels very real, and the brilliant depiction of a tortured man on the edge by Womak (who looks a bit like a scrappier Jason Statham with a much broader acting range) really adds to the overall impact.

Perhaps not the best, or the most sob-inducing of his films, but definitely a solid mystery with a satisfying if unsurprisingly bleak end.

When the film opens, we see the innocent (ha ha) beginnings of the duo’s downfall. Abramoff and Scanlon scam an Indian tribe into paying them millions for their help in ensuring that government will not approve the building of another casino in a neighbouring state. When a tribe elder (Graham Green) declines their initial offer, they hone in on a more malleable younger member of the tribal council (Eric Schweig) and the deal is sealed.

With the proceeds from this lucrative relationship, Abramoff and Scanlon go into offshore gambling and get into business with some Greek mobsters, which is when things really start to get messed up for them. Trading favours for political gain is, as it turns out, a tricky and dangerous business, and Washington insiders who help you while you’re helping them will drop you like a hot potato the moment you start attracting bad PR.

Casino Jack is a fun Hollywood exposé which moves at a fast clip and is stacked with enough powerhouse performances to keep it really entertaining. My only issue with it, since it was at least somewhat inspired by true events, is the affection (or deference) with which it portrays Abramoff. At each turn when his underhanded or downright illegal practices are uncovered, there’s always a scene of him talking about how he’s going to open a Hebrew school, or a touching moment with his children, or with his beautiful wife (Kelly Preston). It’s understandable that in building a multi-dimensional character, the filmmakers would not want to just vilify Abramoff. However, by refusing to ever really condemn him, the film ends up feeling like it’s making excuses for his most inexcusable actions by highlighting the fact that he was a good guy, otherwise. His good guy status when it comes to his wife and kids is kind of beside the point, no?

The film is a nice companion piece to the documentary that premiered at Hot Docs last year about the very same case, Casino Jack and the United States of Money. Watch them side by side and draw your own conclusions.

Rémy (Olivier Barthelemy) is a young man stuck between a terrible home situation with his mother and sister, and a frustrating virtual romance in an online gaming world. Patrick (Vincent Cassel) is a jaded, cynical psychologist who is obviously sick of his work. In a brilliant opening sequence, Patrick listens to a woman talk about an abortion while trying to sneak chips out of a bag in his drawer. It’s the perfect illustration of just how little he cares anymore.

When Patrick spots and picks up Rémy after the young man has an altrication with his mother, the two end up on a bizarre and nihilistic road trip through the industrial wastelands of northern France. The bond between them is as tenuous as their mutual disdain for society and the fact that they are both a persecuted minority – redheads. And of course, who gets teased and bullied more than redheads? Uh … well, anyway, in France they’re apparently target numero uno.

Patrick begins to goad Rémy into a sort of personal awakening by forcing him into increasingly extreme situations, from confronting his online girlfriend in real life to picking a fight with a random Arab at a cafe. As their journey continues, the power dynamics shift, and Rémy begins to embrace the newfound power Patrick has given him, seeing himself as a sort of redheaded messiah, and insisting that the two drive to the coast and take a ferry to Ireland (i.e. redhead heaven).

In one of the film’s climactic scenes, Patrick seduces two young women while Remy sulks and a small redheaded girl watches impassively. The scene provides a great juxtaposition between Patrick’s scattered, wicked hedonism and Rémy’s focus on his newfound mission to liberate himself (and perhaps all other redheads) from society’s shackles.

Gavras also directed the M.I.A. video for Born Free, in which redheads are persecuted, attacked, and killed, though in his TIFF Q&A he admitted that the video, though it came out first, was made after Our Day Will Come, so the feature film is not an elaboration on the ideas brought up in it. Perhaps the other way around.

In any case, if this brilliant mind-fuck ever comes back to Toronto screens or is released on DVD, do not miss your chance to see it. One of Cassel’s most brilliantly unlikeable (yet sexy) characters ever (and that’s saying a lot for him, I think) and a terrific performance from relative newcomer Barthelemy.

The fest is done and now I’m supposed to, what, just go home after work? I’m not supposed to wait for an hour to get into a jammed theatre and watch obscure gems from around the world? I have to eat at home instead of perpetually dining at Big Slice and the AMC food court?

What is this, war-time?

Of course, I jest.  I’m as wiped as everyone else and am happy to report that I made the most of my Fest week, seeing an even 20 films. Oh, and for those of you that have been reading these diaries all along, I did manage to bring my lifetime TIFF film total up to an even 100 thanks to catching a break on seeing the Saturday screening of 127 Hours.

It’s funny that, by the end of the fest, so many of us are running on vapours and just hoping to get back to normalcy. While I am one of these folks (I was a big whiner on Sunday… never having done that extra day), I can also readily admit that I wouldn’t trade the opportunity to do this once a year for anything.

I love that, for all its flaws, TIFF as an organization gives this city as much an opportunity (possibly more of one) to see these world class films as the press and industry who have helped this make an international staple for distribution and early audience buzz. We get to spy in on world premieres and North American premieres that even folks in New York and Hollywood don’t get a crack at.

Hell, my relative lightning rod of a review for Gorbaciofis ahead of Variety’s in the queue of Google search results right now for the simple reason that I live here (and because we’re wizards at the internet here at TFS).

So for that, despite all its flaws and hiccups, I’m willing to give TIFF all the credit in the world for making this city the most exciting place in the film universe for at least one week every year.

With that in mind, some final thoughts on the films from this year’s slate. While I wasn’t as blown-away as I have been in past years, a few films emerged (especially in the last week-end) that brought a quality roster, if not a team of all-stars.

Without further procrastination, I wrap TIFF10 Rob Gordon style, with my personal Top 5!

1. Submarine(Richard Ayoade): These films seem to come about once every decade. The loveable misfit who tries their hardest to change their lives and ends up making a relative mess of it in the process.  I got most of my feelings out in my review, but I’m glad films of this caliber are so rare, because when one comes along, it just feels special.  I’m trying not to oversell it, but there’s so much to love in this film, it’s deserving of the top spot.
2. Black Swan(Darren Aronofsky): Not everyone is going to love this movie, but Aronofsky keeps on showing how he can make something stunning out of the most diverse subject matter.  As I said before, if wrestling is the natural predecessor to ballet I can’t wait to see where he goes next.
3. Tabloid (Errol Morris): How Morris continues to find this brand of crazy and continually get this brand of crazy to let him make a film about them is beyond me.  While this may lack some of the cultural implications of his heavier fare like The Fog of War, it still has plenty to say about tabloid culture and, in true Morris fashion, he somehow gets everyone else to say it for and about themselves.
4. Crying Out (Robin Aubert): I didn’t even want to see this movie. It was an assignment that slipped through several cracks that wound up with me seeing it while someone else did the review. That said, it’s one of the funniest movies I’ve seen come out of Quebec in some time and really hits home (especially if you happen to be a younger man who has close ties with your paternal lineage). Simultaneously bitter and sweet, I hope this film sees a wider audience here on home soil.
5. Bunraku (Guy Moshe) and 13 Assassins (Takashi Miike): And sometimes you just need to switch right off and enjoy the ride.  These two films both left an indelible mark on me for being able to simultaneously be high on entertainment value while both being clear in their artistic vision. While I didn’t get to review 13 Assassins, it follows in my thoughts concerning Bunraku, being able to take a very simple action premise and set it against a singularly unique motif (in this case, a cult master seeming to be at ease in new Shogun-era territory).  See both on the biggest screen possible.

The Bill Chill takes place over a weekend involving a group of thirty-somethings reunited for a funeral of a college friend who has committed suicide. Most of them haven’t seen each other in years, so they make a weekend of it and stay at their friends Harold (Kevin Kline) and Sarah’s (Glenn Close) house. They are also joined by their deceased friend’s last girlfriend, the free spirited Chloe (Meg Tilly). There they catch up, dine, do a few light drugs, and even play a bit of touch football. The atmosphere is light but there is something lurking below the surface that weekend – the suicide of the friend they have just buried. Most of the friends had lost touch with him, and since he hadn’t left a suicide note, they search for some meaning behind what has happened to their old friend.

Story-wise, the film really doesn’t have too much to say and is more of a character study of the group. Despite the weekend taking place in the shadow of a suicide, it feels more like a reunion weekend than a funeral. The Big Chill isn’t a masterpiece of cinema that film scholars have been analyzing to death over the years, but if I was to do a rating of films based on  cultural impact from the 1980s, I would put this film at the top of the list. This was the first film to really address the changes baby boomers had gone through since the 1960s. Gone are the idealistic viewpoints that they clung to from their college days. All seven characters represent a different aspect of that change: infidelity, greed, divorce, compromise, children and drug addiction. These challenges and changes struck a chord with the baby boomer public of the early 80s in profound way. In strange way, the film ended up justifying the “selling out” of that generation and really enforced the greed and search for wealth the preoccupied the rest of the decade.

The film is also known for its soundtrack. It’s completely retro soundtrack was a big hit and made chart success again from songs like “I heard it through the Grapevine” and “Good Lovin’”. It also ushered in a 60s revival that dominated the charts for the rest of the decade. The film also created some major film stars out of Kevin Kline, Glenn Close, William Hurt and Jeff Goldblum. These roles were far from their first ones, but this film really established them as major stars. The film was directed by Lawrence Kasdan, who is best know for writing a few of the Star Wars films and Raiders of the Lost Ark. This was his second film after Body Heat (1981) and it really solidified his reputation as a director.

The Bill Chill would have still likely found an audience even if it hadn’t premiered at TIFF in 1983. It’s a nice feeling though that such a cultural milestone got its start at the festival, especially back in the days when it was just an idealistic young festival ready to take on the world.