As anyone who has been following these updates knows, I have been complaining about lines and crowds at this year's Toronto Film Festival. Things were far worse over the weekend that they were towards the end of last week, and, with the added bonus of some off-and-on showers (coupled with several legitimate downpours), that made for some very unpleasant experiences trying to get into films.

In all honesty, the festival is probably as well-organized as possible considering the sizes of crowds that have been mobbing the theaters. And, with only one or two exceptions, everyone has been pleasant, even under the most trying of circumstances. The press screenings seem to have been run especially well, considering that the full industry/press corps probably numbers in excess of 500. The pecking order within the press is also interesting, although not unexpected. Someone like Roger Ebert can pretty much make his way into any public screening while second-class members of the press like me get to stand in sometimes unbelievably long rush lines. Such is the value of name and face recognition.

At this point, I'm still waiting to get blown away. I'm probably becoming a little impatient in the process. I feel like a prospector mining for that one elusive nugget of gold. Perhaps the most distressing thing is that, not only have I not seen a truly astonishing movie, but there doesn't seem to be any "buzz" about one, either. At this point, I still have two more days, so hopefully something will turn up by then.

I am itching to start writing full-length reviews again, especially since I have quite a bit to say about some of the films that I can't put down in a one-paragraph overview. Unfortunately, time is a problem. Every minute I spend at the computer is a minute I can't spend in a theater. Right now, I'm missing a film called The Soong Sisters in order to put together this column.

Tomorrow, I'll talk a little about "celebrity spotting." It's not my thing, but I know a lot of people are interested, and, while I haven't been paying attention, I have spoken to several people who have. For now, however, here are today's films:

Regeneration (UK/Canada, 1997, dir: Gillies MacKinnon) is an often-perceptive, occasionally-moving drama about a group of men mentally damaged by the trench warfare of World War I, and the doctor (Jonathan Pryce) who is given the task of patching them up so they can go back into combat. I didn't find there to be anything extraordinary about the basic setup or approach. Everyone is aware that war leaves as many (if not more) scars on the mind and conscience as on the body, so there's nothing groundbreaking about Regeneration's focus. This film works best as a character study of the four principals: the doctor, a "perfectly sane" officer who has publicly denounced the war on moral grounds, a would-be poet, and a man with a memory problem. The battle scenes are among Regeneration's best moments, not because there are any fancy special effects, but because they do an excellent job of portraying just how grim, muddy, and horrifying life was on the front line. Regeneration does not sanitize this aspect of the production the way many films do. The direction, by Gillies MacKinnon (Small Faces) is solid, and, as is true of almost any British film, the acting is uniformly excellent.
Rating: out of

Mrs. Dalloway (UK, 1997, dir: Marleen Gorris), Marleen Gorris' followup to her internationally-successful Antonia's Line, is based on a story by Virginia Woolfe. Not having read the source material, I'm not in a position to comment on the film's faithfulness to the original, but I can say that the final screen result shows evidence of being condensed (certain scenes and characters rush by, subplots seem to have been truncated, etc.). The result is a pleasant film that falls several steps short of greatness. Gorris' feminist bent is clearly in evidence in this story of a woman (Vanessa Regrave) examining her life while looking back on what it once was and where it might have gone had she made different choices. Mrs. Dalloway is strongest in its depiction of how quickly (and perhaps cruelly) time passes everyone by. There is a rather odd subplot involving a shell- shocked soldier (Rupert Graves) that threatens to derail the film on several occasions. Although scenes with Graves are thematically relevant to the main story, they cause narrative problems by frequently interrupt the flow. On the whole, Mrs. Dalloway is lightly entertaining, and will probably appeal most strongly to those who appreciate Merchant-Ivory's unhurried pace.
Rating: out of

Stone, Scissors, Paper (UK, 1997, dir: Stephen Whittaker) is as un-Hollywood a love story as there is - thoughtful, intelligent, and scornful of cliches. The film's lead characters are Jean (Juliet Stevenson) and Redfern (Ken Stott), two gentle, damaged souls who find they have much in common. One of their many shared traits is faithfulness to their spouses - both are married to others, and neither is willing to cheat. So their relationship goes no further than quiet talks and longing glances. But, as the film progresses beyond its somewhat slow beginning, each begins to wonder where the boundary between fidelity and infidelity lies. Is it merely physical, or is there an emotional element, as well? Equally important is director Stephen Whittaker's handling of the delicate question of "Can men and women just be friends without the sex thing getting in the way?" When Harry Met Sally copped out on this one, but Stone, Scissors, Paper confronts it in a moving and effective manner.
Rating: out of

The Hanging Garden (Canada, 1997, dir: Thom Fitzgerald) is the centerpiece of the festival's "Perspective Canada" series and may turn out to be the hottest property of the week. With an intriguing, involving script, a unique perspective on the dysfunctional family, and several fine performances, it deserves a large share of the positive buzz that it's receiving. Most of The Hanging Garden takes place during a twenty-four hour period beginning with the wedding of Rosemary (Kerry Fox). It's on that day that her long-absent, gay brother, William (Chris Leavins) finally comes home to make peace with the present and bury the past. His interaction with his parents, his grandmother, and his siblings forms the core of this intriguing film. Director Tom Fitzgerald handles the material like a pro (even though this is his first feature), displaying a distinctive visul style, and injecting a fair amount of humor into what is, in essence, a tragic tale about abuse, misunderstanding, and love gone awry. By intercutting flashbacks with scenes from the present and bringing the past to life through ghostly images, Fitzgerald fleshes out the history of the characters effectively. And, if there's one overriding theme to this motion picture, it's that, no matter how far anyone runs, there's no escaping the consequences of one's actions.
Rating: out of

The Swimming Lesson (Canada, 1997, dir: Sheri Elwood) is a slight short film that depicts a little girl's attempts to care for a turtle. Maybe I just failed to miss the charm of this 6-minute film, but I found it to be singularly unappealing. It reminded me strongly of a home movie (which is how it was shot), and not a very good one at that. Due to its brevity, I'm not assigning a rating.

Anna a la Lettre C (Canada, 1996, dir: Hugo Brochu) is the second in a trilogy of shorts about "innocence." It features a conversation between an androgynous teen girl, Anna, and an elderly ex- projectionist from a porn theater. For thirty minutes, these two exchange loaded glances, endure pregnant pauses, and talk about little of consequence in the middle of an exceptionally hot summer afternoon. The camera moves in frequently for close-ups, giving us views of Anna's neck, shoulders, legs, and feet, and the man's mouth as he chews on a piece of watermelon. There's not much significant character development, and the dialogue is so trite that it's not likely to interest anyone. Anna a la Lettre C looks and feels like a film school project.
Rating: out of

Cotton Candy (Canada/Japan, 1996, dir: Roshell Bissett) is the best of the three shorts, although it's still not a very good film. During its 45-minute length, Cotton Candy focuses on the day-to-day activities of a Japanese school girl who discovers that her virginal image is worth money in the sex world. In a way, the film is more interesting as a commentary on Japanese culture than it is as a narrative. The basic tale is interesting, if not monumental, but the cacophony of images about the role of sex in modern-day Japan is revealing. And the ending says a great deal about the gap that exists between fantasy and reality.
Rating: out of

© 1997 James Berardinelli