VIFF 2022: Klondike, plus Ballot Frustration, phrasal verbs, land acknowledgements, Ingmar Bergman, and Why I Hate Popcorn in Movie Theatres

So I am actually going to start with Ballot Frustration, which leads us through the mysterious world of phrasal verbs (verbs with more than one word in them, like "cough up" or "leave off" or such). Then I will eventually arrive at Klondike. I will try to make this fun and enlightening, but fair warning, I am feeling testy tonight (I actually turned during a movie to a fellow patron at International Village who was making so much noise transporting rattly food things from one package to another, for no clear reason - he had already apparently finished his popcorn, which I had shut up and endured because for some dumb reason popcorn is the food of choice at the movies - to say, "Maybe you could shake some maracas while you are at it?"). 

But more on that later too. 

I went to see De Humani Corporis Profundi the other day at the Cinematheque with my friend, photographer Bob Hanham. We sat in the back, by Bob's choice, which actually made for fun viewing, since I could count the number of people who started the film (even snapping a photo; I would guesstimate 65?) and keep track of how many of them left (about 20, mostly during the eye and prostate surgery sections, and bloody cock/ kidney stone scene, though a couple of them came back, including one woman who left when blood started coming out of the penis and returned witha beverage thereafter, which was quite amusing to see). 

In voting for the film - actually during a pee break, but I'd seen it before (and may see it again tomorrow!), I learned from the fella who manages that I was tearing ballots incorrectly - that the correct way to tear a VIFF Ballot for the People's Choice award is like this: 

I had been tearing them like this  (pardon my henscratch on the back, showing through): 

"No, no," he said - "that is ambiguous. We do not know how to read those, it could be a four or a five - we throw them away." 

While I was grateful for his explanation, this was really annoying, because up til then, I had been doing it my way, for a reason I will describe below, for a dozen or more screenings, and it really pissed me off to know that my votes would no longer be counted - because as far as I am concerned, I was following the directions I had been given. 

Now, people who do not actually know me outside reading a few VIFF reviews may not realize that professionally, I work in the field of language instruction (ESL teaching and tutoring). Phrasal verbs are one of the great mysteries of English for ESL students, whose questions often are very condusive to instructors themselves discovering the subtle nuances of the language that we otherwise would take entirely for granted. What is the difference between "fill the car" and "fill up the car," for example? Full is, actually, full - so why do add the "up?"

Take a minute and think about that, if you like - arrive at your own theory. You will learn something about English (this is, in fact, my primary reason for getting into the field - I find stuff like this really fascinating, and love to talk about it with students - or prepositions, or articles, or idioms like "by the way." Which way? Why "by" it? But don't get me started on that). 

To stick with fill versus fill up, the trouble is, "fill" is actually not as clear as you might think. You can fill something half way. You can fill something "to here," for example, and specify where - because we have no other verb that quite does the trick with such econony; it is easier to say "fill it to here" than to say "pour liquid in until it comes to this point." It is true that if someone asks me to fill their glass, given no other information, I will fill it all the way - the "up" is not always technically necessary. But in many cases it is, because "up" indicates "completion." This probably begins with the idea of filling a glass, since the liquid noticeably movies in an upward motion, but by extension, it applies to other situations as well. If you ask me to cut a carrot, I might cut it once; if you ask me to cut a carrot up, you will get small pieces. Similarly, if you ask me to tear something, I might tear it once. If you ask me to tear it up, you will get something like this:

I once used the Cramps song, "Tear It Up," in an ESL lesson, by the way, and it was surprisingly interesting (for the students, too!). But again, that's a digression. While in some cases - as my students are right to note - the particle is not technically necessary (fill/ fill up, especially), because it is possible that without the particle - the preposition, the "up" - ambiguity will be created, we tend to overgeneralize in its use. Particles function in phrasal verbs, SOMETIMES at least, as "ambiguity reducers." Added to a verb, they make the nature of the verb extra clear, so all relevant information is conveyed with a minimum of expenditure of words. Consider the difference in nuance between "sold" and "sold out," for another example: if you go to the store and ask them about a book, and they say it sold that morning - well, if they only ever had one copy, they are probably sold out, too, but if they don't include the particle, you're going to have to ask them if they have any copies left. "Sold out" means completely sold - it eliminates the need for a second question. (Not all phrasal verb particles work that way, but some do). 

But let us turn to another instructive particle, more relevant to our purposes: across. If I tell you I am going to walk across the street, and I walk to the median and stand there, have I completed the task? No, I have not. I have walked part way across the street, but I have not finished the act of crossing it. Or, say, if we are tagging a large room with graffiti, and are standing at opposite ends, and I need a can of blue spray paint and I ask you to "roll it across the room," and you roll it to the middle of the room, have you rolled it "across" to me? No, you  have not. You have rolled it part way. 

Hold that thought. 

Now, really, I have loved those little pre-show films that the show before each VIFF movie. Instead of the semi-satirical VIFF ads of yore, this year, they've had members of the Tsleil-Waututh, Squamish, and Musqueam nations do cheerful and welcoming land acknowlegements, often in both their language and English, overlaying lovely images of our province, and featuring the occasional comment on the nature of storytelling (an elder of the Tsleil-Waututh nation does a bang-up job there, in fact, tho' I didn't make note of her name). Now, these are also repeated in the spoken introductions to each film (though interestingly, it seemed to me that the word "unnceded" was replaced mid-way through with "stolen," which was nicely direct - why mince words? Also, for non-native speakers of English, "stolen" is much less confusing than "unceded." And it's also more historically accurate!). 

However, having two land acknowledgments per film (one spoken, one filmed) does border on overkill, especially since I have gone to no public event in the last few years that has not included a land acknowledgement, and I even have given a few myself. This VIFF is the first time I've had two land acknowledgments per film, sometimes for three movies a day (though there appear to be at least three variants of the  the Tsleil-Waututh, Squamish, and Musqueam introductions, so that keeps it a bit fresh). So two times three is six times I'm being told during the day that I'm complicit in theft and genocide and such, all of which is true, but a bit heavy and depressing and none too empowering, no matter how cheerful and welcoming the acknowledgements have been. Maybe there's something even more productive we could do, so those of us who are the descendents (or the descendent of the descendents, for those of us who are third-or-fourth generation) of settlers can make use of? Maybe we could shift next VIFF to a spoken land acknowledgement and then a short film featuring a Musqueam, Squamish or Tsleil-Waututh speaker explaining about a cultural detail or linguistic feature or so forth? Something we don't know already, that brings us yet closer to the speakers? Maybe just have us tell us something they think is important for us to know, even a personal detail about their history and experience...? Because I would actually like to know more about the peoples whose homelands we occupy - I think I've got the message now about the fact that we do occupy their ancestral lands, and can start to move into something a bit more educational...?

Just a suggestion. 

Incidentally, I gather that the VIFF has some very supportive policies to allow people from First Nations backgrounds into the festival for free. If you're First Nations, you can read about that here. 

However, to return to the VIFF trailers, the really relevant issue here is that the filmed instructions for voting for the People's Choice Award, which run in proximity to the land acknowledgement, tell us EXPLICITLY to tear the ballot across. Not to "tear it part way across," or if time is at a premium, the even more economical "tear it part way." No: they say - I checked tonight - to "tear it across," so that's what I've been doing. And now it turns out that because I followed those instructions, my ballots might as well have been "torn up." That's really annoying. I was taking the ballots seriously this year. I want my vote to count. Most of them won't. 

So there, another bit of constructive criticism: Do not tell me to cross the street if you want me to meet you on the median. Do not tell me to cut up the carrot if you only want it sliced once. Do not ask me to fill the glass up if you do not want it filled to the top. And don't tell me to tear my ballot across if you want me to tear it part way. Thanks to these misleading instructions, at least a dozen of my votes were squandered, and I'm sure I'm not the only person who followed the instructions as they were given. 

On to Klondike. The film this is most similar to is Ingmar Bergman's Shame, but I actually think it's a better movie, for a few reasons, but first let me talk about Shame a little. 

Shame is a great place to start with Bergman, maybe even a Bergman film (like Hour of the Wolf, for example, or The Virgin Spring) for people who as a rule don't like Bergman. Bergman's films often come steeped in angst about the death of God - none too meaningful for atheists - or at times are almost masturbatory in their self-hatred and misanthropy (as is A Passion - it's actually used to be my pick for favourite Bergman, back when I was a much less happy man, but it's also extremely cruel - a puppy is hanged! - and is full of self-accusation on Bergman's part; he has a clear analogue in the film, a photographer played by Erland Josephson, done up to even resemble Bergman, who talks about what a bunch of self-indulgent shit his work is, which the film proceeds to self-apply by placing its decent but weak main character - Max von Sydow - in an inescapable existential trap, which it leaves him in. This is the passion of the title, taking the sense of the word as "crucifixion" - the usual English-language title, The Passion of Anna, is in fact all wrong. Anyhow, it's a great movie to get drunk and feel sorry for yourself to, but not good for much else, except maybe as a loudly-given excuse for withdrawing from life... which Bergman clearly was not doing, so it's fundamentally not honest with itself, even if it is in its own way also kind of perfect). 

But Shame is - whatever Bergman himself might have said of it - actually kind of a political film, maybe even an anti-war film, in which two decent people, living on a farm, played by von Sydow and Liv Ullman, are caught between two sides in a war, with expectations and demands placed on them by both the government troops and the rebels. Both sides are presented as being equally morally questionable, even at times monstrous. The couple just wants to live their lives, but they aren't going to be allowed to, so after myriad harrowing experiences and compromises (which particularly taint von Sydow's character; his wife is proven the stronger and wiser of the two, which plot point Klondike shares), they flee, ending up as refugees. Again, because this is a Bergman film, we arrive at a very deep, dark bummer in the film's final images - Ullman and Von Sydow are trying to escape with others in a small boat, but there are so many corpses in the water they can go nowhere, and the implication is that they too will soon die of thirst and starvation. But lots of refugees do actually make it to their chosen refuges, so the film's compassion for its trapped protagonists is not entirely squandered by Bergman's tendency to disappear up his own asshole, even if he leaves us in the knowledge of their certain, eventually demise.

Weirdly, consider the bummer ending, the film also contains Bergman's funniest moment, where von Sydow completely fails to kill a chicken for food. It's the only time I can recall an audience laughing aloud during a Bergman. 

No one laughed during the cow-killing sequence in Klondike, and the central male character in that film is a bit more robust than von Sydow's, but the film really does accomplish several similar things. Set during a 2014 conflict between Russia and Ukraine, we are introduced to four main characters: a strong and sensible woman about to give birth, whose priority is, as with Ullman in Shame, protecting her family, and three male characters on two sides of the conflict: her husband, whose fundamental nature seems decent and solid, but which the film keeps us in the dark about until very near the end; his friend, a somewhat slovenly and presumptuous neighbour who is a committed separatist, who nonetheless tries to protect his less committed friend (while also periodically stealing his car); and her passionate but possibly somewhat dim-witted younger brother who supports Ukrainian sovereignty with such dedication that he becomes dangerous to the less committed). There are also some Russian soldiers who are just assholes, but they're hardly at the moral centre of the film. The film also takes in the "accidental" downing of that Malaysian passenger plane, which basically takes place in the backyard of the house where the action mostly takes place (note: because we hear a few explosions in the film, it is not entirely clear until well after it happens that one of them is in fact the sound of the plane crashing; the body outside the cellar belongs to a passenger, but you probably, like me, will not clue into that until much later). 

There are things I did not understand about Klondike - like the title, which I still don't get - but part of my hesitation in seeing it was my fear that I would understand even less (I only made it today because it was the only option after Holy Spider proved to be sold out; I am told by a friend who made it in that that film is superb, too). Like, I've heard lots of things about the conflict between Russian and Ukraine. COVID-vax skeptics I know - and I don't know many! - seem to also respect Putin a bit, defending his actions in Ukraine, which makes me wonder if that means that they are somehow being fed Russian propaganda that also informs their COVID-vax skepticism: it's odd to see the two things correlate in a two-for-two ratio, so much so that the next person I know who goes on about Robert Malone or adverse reactions or Fauci's complicity in gain of function research, I'm gonna ask what they think of Putin. If their answer includes so much of a smidgen of defense of or admiration for Putin, I'm gonna start thinking there is a serious connection. It would be an interesting Survey Monkey survey, actually, but I'm getting a bit far from my point... The point is that NO UNDERSTANDING of the conflict between Russia or Ukraine, besides knowing that it exists, is necessary to appreciate the film. It's a bit more historically and culturally specific than Shame, which is set in a completely made-up nation, for maximum universalizeablity, but resisting seeing the film because a) you are not sure which side you are on; b) you are not sure which side the film itself is on; c) you do not want to be forced to commit without doing more research, which the film might bias, and d) you don't want to be forced to do more research before seeing it... none of these are reasons to hesitate. There is no side required, except maybe the side of humanity. The Russians don't come across particularly well, but neither does the kid brother, and the car-"borrowing" separatist neighbour, while a bit of a dipshit, maybe, does provide information that saves people from getting killed (it's no spoiler to say so - when he tells our main characters the "password," you will know that this will come up later). I mean, it's a Ukrainian film, so it's only going to be so neutral, but you really don't need have any special knowledge about the situation there to appreciate the hell out of it. 

In fact, I think the thing I liked best about the film is that the real purpose of the film, politically - the film's moral centre and point of view - does not become apparent until the very end, as the credits roll, and it's one you'll be able to get behind wherever you stand politically. The film had been powerful and potent throughout, but it was the dedication that brought a few tears to my eyes. I don't think I've encountered that before. 

I think I've covered all points set out in my title, but to return to the issue of popcorn - I enjoy popcorn as much as anyone, but I hate it that it's the de-facto snack for oral gratification during movies. I think there should be two sections in movie theatres, like there used to be smoking-and-non-smoking in restaurants: the "popcorn eaters" section and the "non-popcorn eaters" section. I guess it's not entirely all that important if we're talking a Marvel movie or, uh, some other so-called "popcorn movie," but I've had two quiet, compelling arthouse films this VIFF, Klondike and Thunder, negatively impinged upon by having to listen to my theatre-neighbours rustle in their fucking food bags. I get that theatres need to make extra money on concession, and - though I never buy it myself, when going to theatres - I like the taste of popcorn as much as anyone. But can't people just chew gum or suck their thumbs or something? Why has something noisy to consume become the traditional snack at movie theatres?  Klondike is a gripping, restrained, highly visual drama, but the people behind me to both the left and right kept the rustling going on for the whole first hour of the runtime - and I had deliberately sat down in front to get away from all the munching motherfuckers that tend to prefer the middle of the cinema!  If theatres insist on selling popcorn, especially for movies that are serious in intent, quiet in volume, and that ask and reward a great deal of focus, they should also create a "popcorn free" zone, maybe down in front, so that people who are going to the movies TO SEE AND HEAR THE MOVIES don't have to listen to everyone around them fucking EATING! 

Or shaking maracas. 

End rant. Klondike has no more scheduled screenings, at present, but there is one at SFU Woodwards on Sunday for Holy Spider (about a female investigator trying to catch a serial killer preying on sex workers, and discovering to her disgust that the authorities actually have sympathy for his actions - all of which is made more topical and immediate by the fact that the film is set in Iran. If you plan to go - I am not sure if I yet do, since I may have other commitments - I would advise showing up very early, because the word of mouth is strong on this film). 

It's been a great VIFF. Thanks to my ongoing/ renewed health worry, I have been able to catch a bit more of the festival than I thought I was going to, and may even get to see Maigret during my break between medical commitments tomorrow. (I am also told by a VIFFing friend that Goodnight, Oppy is a great film, if that sounds more  your cup of tea). Oh, and De Humani Corporis Fabrica - which I keep wanting, for reasons unknown to me, to render as De Humani Corporis Profundi - also screens one more time, tomorrow at the VIFF Centre. Medical commitments allowing, I might hit that one more time, but this time I'm not gonna sit in the back, so don't worry... I won't be counting you and judging if you pussy out. 

Now there's a phrasal verb for you...

I ran out of time to post links to everything but go to VIFF.org for more!