Separated. Films reviewed: I Used to be Funny, Longing, Robot Dreams
Hi, this is Daniel Garber at the Movies for culturalmining.com and CIUT 89.5 FM.
Not all love is sexual, and not all relationships lead to marriage. This week, I’m looking at three bittersweet dramas about people separated, against their will, from those they love. There’s a teenaged girl separated from her nanny (who is also a standup comic); a man separated from his biological son (who is also dead); and a dog separated from his best friend (who is also a robot).
I Used To Be Funny
Wri/Dir: Ally Pankiw
Sam (Rachel Sennott: Shiva Baby) is a standup comic in downtown Toronto. She shares an apartment with friends and fellow comics Paige and Philip (Sabrina Jalee, Caleb Hearon). But Sam can’t do her act anymore. She rarely showers, changes her clothes, or eats. She dumped her longtime boyfriend Noah (Ennis Esmer), and she quit the day job that used to pay her rent. Now she just sits around all day, staring at the wall. Why? Well, obviously she’s severely depressed. She’s also recovering from a traumatic violent event.
Things used to be better. She had a job in the suburbs as a nanny for a troubled 12-year-old named Brooke (Olga Petsa). Brooke’s mother was dying in hospital, her aunt had little free time and her dad was always busy — he’s a cop. But now Brooke has disappeared and her aunt doesn’t even know where to look for her. And when Brooke throws a rock through her window, Sam decides maybe she should join the effort to find the runaway and bring her home. But where is she hiding, why is she angry at Sam, and what will happen if she finds her?
I Used to Be Funny is a bittersweet comedy about a wise-
But it’s also Sam dealing with a not-at-all funny event — no spoilers here. It costars many Canadian comic actors, including Hoodo Hersi, Dan Beirne (The Twentieth Century, Great, Great, Great) and Jason Jones in a rare serious role. Rachel Sennott is excellent as Sam.
I Used to be Funny is a humorous look at depression and assault.
Longing
Wri/Dir: Savi Gabizon
Daniel Bloch (Richard Gere) is a successful businessman, and committed bachelor. He enjoys sex, not commitment or kids. He owns a factory and lives in a luxurious penthouse suite looking down on Manhattan. But when a when a surprise visitor arrives at his door, he is floored by her message. Rachel (Suzanne Clément) is a Canadian woman he had a fling with 20 years earlier. She reveals she was pregnant when she returned to Canada, later married and raised Allen — his biological son — with another man she married. But Allen died in an accident two weeks earlier. Daniel is floored. She hasn’t come for money or legal action, just to tell him the news. So he travels north to Hamilton, to attend a memorial and find out more about the son he never knew. And what he found was both frightening and endearing.
He talks to the people who played a key role in his son’s life, and discovers some surprising facts. He was a piano virtuoso. His best friend (Wayne Burns) says Allen was involved in a drug deal. A much younger girl (Jessica Clement) was in love with him, but says the feelings were not reciprocal. And his school teacher Alice (Diane Kruger) says he was obsessed with her and painted romantic poems about her on the school walls. What was Daniel’s son really like? And what can he do to remember someone he never knew?
Longing is a quirky, disjointed drama about kinship and death as a father desperately tries to become a belated part of his late son’s life. Richard Gere underplays his role, almost to the point of absurdity, but it somehow makes sense within the nature of his character. It’s also about the boy’s parents, not just Daniel and Rachel, but his other de facto parents And it all takes place in a very posh and elegant version of Hamilton, unlike any Hamilton I’ve ever seen. This is a strange movie that sets up lots of tension-filled revelations, but then attempts to resolve them all using an absurd ceremony.
Longing never blew me away, but it stayed interesting enough to watch.
Robot Dreams
Co-Wri/Dir: Pablo Berger
It’s the early 1980s in the East Village of NY City. There are tons of people, but they’re not people, they’re animals. Literally. Bulls and ducks, racoons and gorillas. Dog — a dog with floppy ears and a pot belly — lives there, alone in an apartment, gazing longingly out the window at happy couples cavorting in the summer sun. Dog plays pong by himself, or eats TV dinners while watching TV. He’s bored and lonely, with no one to play Pong with or just hang out. Until he orders a robot — as advertised on TV, some assembly required — and waits eagerly for it to arrive. He’s a delight with tubular arms, a mailbox shaped trunk, an elongated German helmet as a head, with round eyes and a happy smile. They are instant friends, maybe soulmates. They go rollerskating in central park, take pictures in a photo booth. Feelings grow. Another day they head out for the beach. They sunbathe and swim together — a perfect day. Until the robot finds himself rusted solid just as the beach is closing for the night. And despite Dog’s efforts, he is too heavy to drag home, so he comes back one next day to get him. But the beach is closed for the season, locked up behind a metal fence. And despite repeated tries, Dog can’t
seem to rescue Robot from his sandy prison. Can Robot survive for a year, unmoving, in the great outdoors? And will that spark between Robot and Dog still remain in the spring?
Robot Dreams is an amazing animated film about friendship and loss. It’s called Robot Dreams because much of the film takes place inside the robot’s imagination as he lay on the beach, It’s set in the grittiness of 1980s New York, with graffiti-filled subways, punks in East Village, break dancing teens and Jean-Michel Basquiat. Remember Zootopia, that animated movie where everyone is an animal? Robot Dreams is the flip side of
that, darker, cooler, adult, more Fritz the Cat than Disney or Pixar. There’s also no dialogue, but it’s anything but silent, with constant music and grunts and quick-changing gags and cultural references. But it’s also very moving — you can feel the pathos between Dog and Robot. I saw this movie cold (without reading any descriptions) and it wasn’t till afterwards that I realized it’s by Pablo Berger, the Spanish director who, more than a decade ago, made the equally amazing Blancanieves, a silent, B&W version of Snow White as a toreador. The man’s a genius.
I totally love Robot Dreams.
I Used To Be Funny, Longing and Robot Dreams all open theatrically this weekend in Toronto; check your local listings.
This is Daniel Garber at the Movies each Saturday morning on CIUT 89.5 FM and on my website culturalmining.com.
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