Tag Archives: Coward

#VIFF45: A Festival to Remember — The Films, the Discoveries, and the Magic of Cinema

A three-part VanRamblings wrap-up of the 45th Vancouver International Film Festival | October 1–11, 2026

Part One: A Final Weekend Worth Celebrating

There is something gloriously bittersweet about the final weekend of the Vancouver International Film Festival. For 10 days, Vancouver’s moviegoing community has been living inside a world of discovery, moving from one cinema to another, comparing notes over coffee, arguing about performances, falling hopelessly in love with films we could never have anticipated, and wondering how on earth we are going to fit just one more screening into an already impossibly crowded schedule.

And then, suddenly, the end is in sight.

The 45th annual Vancouver International Film Festival has given Vancouver audiences an embarrassment of cinematic riches, with films arriving from Cannes, Berlin, Venice, Telluride, Toronto and the New York Film Festival. The final weekend offers one last opportunity to catch some of the year’s most accomplished international films, several of which have already become personal favourites here at VanRamblings.

Friday, October 9, begins with a particularly tantalizing double bill at the Park Theatre. At 6:15 p.m., Japanese master Hirokazu Kore-eda’s Look Back offers another opportunity to experience the director’s extraordinary gift for finding tenderness in the everyday. Kore-eda has spent a career exploring the fragile bonds between parents and children, the families we inherit and the families we create. Here, he turns his attention to youth and the nature of storytelling, bringing his customary grace and emotional intelligence to a film that understands how imagination can transform the lives of young people. His work has a way of making the apparently ordinary feel quietly miraculous.

The Friday double bill continues with James Gray’s Paper Tiger, which has attracted considerable attention on the festival circuit. The intimate crime drama features Adam Driver, Scarlett Johansson and Miles Teller, three performers whose contrasting screen personas promise a compelling study in loyalty, ambition and the dangerous entanglements of criminal life. Gray is a filmmaker fascinated by family, betrayal and the moral compromises people make in pursuit of security. With a cast of this calibre, Paper Tiger is a particularly enticing prospect.

The final weekend also brings a remarkable collection of films shared with the prestigious New York Film Festival. Friday’s offerings include Once Upon a Time in Harlem and 9 Temples to Heaven at Fifth Avenue, with Marine Atlan’s La Gradiva at International Village 9 at 8 p.m. and Andrey Zvyagintsev’s Minotaur at the Lindsay Family Stage on Granville Island at 8:30 p.m. For festivalgoers who relish the experience of discovering a film before it reaches a wider audience, these screenings are precisely what VIFF is all about.

And then there is Lukas Dhont’s Coward, VanRamblings’ favourite film at VIFF 45, screening Friday evening at the Park Theatre. The Belgian filmmaker’s First World War drama, whose stars Emmanuel Macchia and Valentin Campagne shared the Best Actor prize at Cannes, is a work of breathtaking emotional delicacy. More about that extraordinary film in Part Two of VanRamblings final column on VIFF 45.

At 9 p.m. Friday, the Vancouver Playhouse welcomes La Bola Negra, Javier Calvo and Javier Ambrossi’s ambitious historical melodrama, which won the Audience Award at this year’s Toronto International Film Festival. Moving between 1932, 1937 and 2017, the film interweaves the lives of three gay protagonists, giving a traditional historical epic a thrillingly contemporary queer sensibility. The filmmakers also shared the Best Director prize at Cannes. It is precisely the sort of ambitious, emotionally expansive storytelling that makes international cinema so rewarding.

Saturday, October 10, brings another remarkable sequence of screenings. At 11 a.m., The Only Living Pickpocket in New York opens the day’s programme at the Vancouver Playhouse. At 1:45 p.m., Ryûsuke Hamaguchi’s All of a Sudden, Japan’s Oscar submission, offers a quietly expansive meditation on human connection. Making his French-language debut, Hamaguchi explores the fragile structures that bind us to one another, with luminous, Cannes-recognized performances from Virginie Efira and Tao Okamoto. This is cinema that understands the expressive power of conversation, observation and silence.

The evening’s centrepiece is Martin McDonagh’s Wild Horse Nine, VIFF’s Closing Gala, at 6:15 p.m. at the Vancouver Playhouse. With John Malkovich leading the cast, the film arrives amid considerable awards-season anticipation. McDonagh’s gift for combining dark humour, moral unease and unpredictable human behaviour makes this a fittingly provocative way to approach the festival’s conclusion.

And for those determined to make the absolute most of Saturday, there is a 9:15 p.m. screening of NAZA at the Park Theatre. Directed by Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor, the investigative documentary examines Israeli military targeting practices in Gaza through interviews with military insiders. The title refers to a reported intelligence euphemism for anticipated civilian deaths in airstrikes. Produced by Jonathan Glazer and James Wilson, the team behind The Zone of Interest, NAZA has become one of the festival’s most controversial and politically urgent films. Its filmmakers argue that the systems used to calculate civilian casualties reveal a devastating process of dehumanization; its claims and implications have provoked fierce debate. The film received the Special Jury Prize at Venice. Whatever one’s response, this is documentary filmmaking that insists audiences confront uncomfortable questions about technology, accountability and the human cost of war.

Sunday, October 11, is the final day of VIFF 45, and the schedule is hardly a gentle winding-down. La Gradiva returns at the Lindsay Family Stage, while Everytime screens at Fifth Avenue. Mina Shum’s Whatcha Want brings a distinctly Vancouver perspective to the final day’s offerings at the Rio Theatre at 3:30 p.m. Meanwhile, Minotaur, Zvyagintsev’s Grand Prix winner at Cannes, offers another opportunity to experience the work of a formidable contemporary filmmaker.

At the Park Theatre, Mike Leigh’s Tender Loving Care screens at 6 p.m., followed by Pedro Almodóvar’s Bitter Christmas at 9:15 p.m. And at 6:15 p.m., the Rio Theatre screens I Play Rocky, one of VanRamblings’ other personal favourites of the festival.

The beauty of VIFF, of course, is that the festival’s final screening need not be the final opportunity to see a film. Programmer Tom Charity and the VIFF Centre regularly help bring festival discoveries back to Vancouver audiences, while other titles secure conventional theatrical engagements across Metro Vancouver. It is worth keeping an eye on the VIFF Centre’s subsequent programming rather than assuming that missing a festival screening means missing a film forever.

But first, there are two films that deserve a special place in this year’s festival conversation.

Coward: Lukas Dhont’s Most Beautiful Film Yet

VanRamblings’ favourite film of VIFF 45 | Directed by Lukas Dhont | Belgium, France, Netherlands

Some films move you. Others quietly rearrange the furniture of your heart. And then there is Lukas Dhont’s Coward, an achingly beautiful, tenderly observed, emotionally transporting work of cinema that left VanRamblings with the extraordinary conviction that we had just encountered one of the finest films of the year — of any year.

At the 79th Cannes Film Festival, Dhont’s First World War drama earned the Best Actor prize for its remarkable young stars, Emmanuel Macchia and Valentin Campagne. Their performances are the beating heart of a film that could easily have succumbed to the familiar conventions of the tragic queer period drama, yet instead finds something infinitely more generous, more courageous and ultimately more life-affirming.

Set amid the brutal realities of the Belgian trenches, Coward introduces us to Pierre (Macchia), a young soldier arriving at the front eager to prove himself in a world in which courage is measured in blood, obedience and the willingness to march towards almost certain death. But Pierre’s understanding of the world begins to change when he meets Francis (Campagne), a fellow soldier with an unexpected idea: to stage a theatrical performance for their comrades.

It is an audacious proposal in a place where imagination might seem like an unaffordable luxury. Yet the makeshift theatre becomes something extraordinary — a sanctuary of beauty, laughter and human connection amid the machinery of destruction. And between Pierre and Francis, something tender and transformative begins to emerge.

Dhont, whose Girl and Close established him as one of contemporary cinema’s most sensitive observers of adolescent vulnerability, has made his most mature film to date. Here, his storytelling possesses an emotional restraint that makes every fleeting glance, every tentative touch and every moment of physical closeness feel almost unbearably precious.

The chemistry between Macchia and Campagne is simply magnificent. Dhont has a tactile, compassionate understanding of how men — queer men especially — watch other men, the way attraction and affection can reveal themselves in a look held a second too long, or in a gesture whose significance cannot safely be spoken aloud. Coward is, by turns, breathtakingly violent and sweetly, shiveringly sensual. Its most intimate moments feel less like conventional romantic scenes than like the discovery of an entirely new language.

And what a relief it is that Dhont refuses to drown that love in tragedy.

Unlike so many period tales of forbidden queer affection, Coward is not interested in dripping its canvas in despair. Dhont wants to leave us with a glimmer of hope. Actually, more than a glimmer: a wry smile of anticipation, a suggestion that all is not lost, that love can find a way even when the world seems determined to extinguish it.

This is a recuperation of queer representation as resilient and hopeful. Happiness — or, perhaps more importantly, contentment — is possible when we seek it and seize it. That assertion feels quietly radical in a film set amid the carnage of the First World War, where tenderness itself becomes an act of resistance.

Dhont does not minimize the horror surrounding his characters. Rather, he understands that the existence of beauty in terrible circumstances does not diminish suffering; it makes the preservation of our humanity all the more urgent. The theatre they create becomes an emblem of what art can accomplish when the world has seemingly abandoned its obligations to the living.

There is something almost miraculous about the film’s tonal balance. The violence is genuinely frightening, the romance achingly delicate, the humour unexpectedly liberating. Dhont allows the film to breathe, trusting his actors and the emotional intelligence of his audience. He never insists that we feel something when a glance or a silence can accomplish so much more.

And when Coward reaches its final passages, its hopefulness feels neither sentimental nor cheaply won. It emerges from everything these men have endured, from the risks they have taken and from the simple, extraordinary recognition that another person can make a life worth living.

This is sensitive storytelling at its most affecting: sweetly played, elegantly mounted, reaching towards hope not in light of war’s horrors, but in spite of them.

For VanRamblings, Coward is the film of VIFF 45. It is a reminder that cinema’s greatest achievement is not always to break our hearts.

Sometimes, it is to show us how beautifully they can mend.

VanRamblings Grade: A+


Fatherland: A Haunted Masterpiece of Memory and Exile

VanRamblings feels strongly Fatherland is the best film to screen at VIFF 45, one of the best films of the year | Directed by Paweł Pawlikowski | Poland, Germany, Italy, France

If Coward is the film that most tenderly captured VanRamblings heart at VIFF 45, Paweł Pawlikowski’s Fatherland is the film that most completely convinced us of cinema’s extraordinary power to transform history into poetry.

Pawlikowski, the modern master behind Ida and Cold War, has fashioned another immaculate black-and-white work of European cinema, an 82-minute elegy of such precision, intelligence and emotional depth that its brevity feels almost audacious.

Winner of the Best Director prize at Cannes, Fatherland is a gorgeous, gripping drama whose resonance extends far beyond its carefully chosen postwar setting.

The film centres on Nobel Prize-winning writer Thomas Mann (Hanns Zischler) and his daughter Erika (Sandra Hüller), the actress, writer and rally driver. In the summer of 1949, sixteen years after fleeing Nazi Germany for the safety of the United States, Mann returns to his native country. Accompanied by Erika, he embarks on an emotionally fraught road trip in a black Buick, traveling from American-controlled Frankfurt to Soviet-controlled Weimar through a Germany devastated by war and divided by ideology.

It is a journey across a shattered nation, but also across the wreckage of a family.

Pawlikowski understands that the aftermath of catastrophe is not merely a matter of rebuilding cities or redrawing borders. It is also about confronting the moral compromises of the past, the things people did, the things they failed to do, and the stories they tell themselves to make those failures bearable.

Mann is a towering literary figure, a man whose opposition to Hitler forced him into exile. Yet the film is not content to celebrate the Nobel laureate as a convenient moral monument. His relationship with Erika reveals a more complicated figure, a father whose public stature and intellectual authority cannot protect him from the consequences of private shortcomings.

Hüller, one of contemporary cinema’s most compelling actors, is extraordinary as Erika. Her performance is a study in intelligence, resentment, wit and barely contained pain. She gives the film its emotional counterweight, suggesting a lifetime of accumulated disappointment beneath the surface of an apparently formidable woman. Zischler is equally compelling, creating a Mann whose authority is unmistakable but whose capacity for self-understanding remains uncertain.

The relationship between them is the film’s beating heart. Every exchange seems to carry the weight of conversations that have never taken place, apologies never offered, affection expressed too late or withheld altogether.

Shot by cinematographer Łukasz Żal in exquisitely chiselled monochrome, Fatherland is a visual marvel. The landscape passes through the car windows like a wounded memory, the ruins and the uneasy coexistence of two political systems rendering history tangible. Pawlikowski’s compositions are austere but never sterile; his camera finds beauty in the contours of a devastated landscape without ever pretending that beauty can erase what happened there.

As the journey progresses eastwards, the film becomes increasingly preoccupied with grief and the responsibility of the artist. What does it mean to create art in the aftermath of catastrophe? Can intellectual achievement compensate for emotional failure? And what obligation does a celebrated writer have to the people closest to him, rather than to the abstract ideals he represents?

These questions converge in a beautiful, sad epiphany, delivered with the divine economy that distinguishes Pawlikowski’s finest work.

There are moments when Fatherland feels chilly, even deliberately withholding. But that restraint is part of its achievement. Pawlikowski trusts us to recognize what remains unspoken, to find the sorrow in a pause, the tenderness in an awkward gesture, the devastation in an exchange that appears almost incidental.

The result is a film of haunted, ravaged beauty. Its mournful meditation on national identity, private tragedy and the dangers of trying to remain apolitical in deeply political times speaks directly to our own fractured moment. The cultural riches that survive catastrophe offer no easy redemption, but they can provide small, crucial forms of solace.

Fatherland is an elegant, engrossing masterpiece, an extraordinarily economical film that leaves behind an emotional echo far greater than its running time might suggest.

If VIFF 45 has offered a reminder of why we go to the movies, Pawlikowski’s film supplies one of the most compelling answers: to experience the past not as a distant abstraction, but as a living, breathing presence in the room.

This is a gorgeous poem of a film, and, for VanRamblings, the best film to screen at this year’s festival.

VanRamblings Grade: A+


Part Three: The Movies, the Memories, and the Promise of What’s Next

What, then, has VIFF 45 achieved?

First, it has reminded us that the Vancouver International Film Festival remains one of this city’s most important cultural institutions. For eleven days, it has created a space in which audiences can encounter stories beyond their own experience, discover filmmakers they might otherwise never have encountered, and engage with works that challenge, provoke, entertain and occasionally change the way we see the world.

Second, this year’s festival has offered compelling evidence that 2026 may be one of the strongest years for cinema in a decade, both domestically and internationally.

From the moral complexities of Cristian Mungiu’s Fjord to the exquisite emotional restraint of Coward, from Pawlikowski’s haunted Fatherland to the imaginative daring of films arriving from Japan, Spain and elsewhere, the year’s finest work has demonstrated that ambitious filmmaking is alive and flourishing. Cannes’ awards have been especially revealing, recognizing films that are artistically adventurous while remaining profoundly attentive to the human condition.

And what a year for Canadian cinema, too. Mina Shum’s Whatcha Want is a welcome reminder of the importance of Vancouver filmmakers telling stories that emerge from the communities they know, while the festival’s wider Canadian programme has offered audiences opportunities to encounter the country’s extraordinary range of voices and perspectives. A healthy film culture depends not simply on importing the world’s best work, but on creating the conditions in which our own filmmakers can flourish.

There is, of course, a practical challenge awaiting us after the closing credits roll. How do we sustain the excitement? How do we ensure that these films find audiences beyond the festival’s eleven-day window?

The work of VIFF Centre programmer Tom Charity, and the subsequent theatrical engagements that some festival titles will secure across Metro Vancouver, is essential. A festival should be a beginning, not an ending. The conversation that starts in a crowded cinema ought to continue over dinner, in the pages of publications such as VanRamblings, and in the choices we make when deciding what to watch next.

Most importantly, VIFF reminds us that watching movies together is an act of community. We sit in the darkness beside strangers, laughing at the same unexpected joke, holding our breath through the same moment of suspense, or emerging into the Vancouver night with tears in our eyes and the sudden urge to talk to someone about what we have just experienced. For a few precious hours, another person’s story becomes part of our own.

That is the enduring magic of cinema. It allows us to inhabit lives we have never lived, to recognize ourselves in people whose circumstances are utterly unlike our own, and to discover that tenderness, courage, grief, longing and hope are not the possessions of any one nation or culture. They belong to all of us.

As VIFF 45 draws to a close, VanRamblings find ourselves thinking again about Coward, about those young soldiers who discover a measure of beauty in a world consumed by violence, and about Fatherland, with its wounded landscapes and its insistence that the past must be confronted if we are to make sense of the present. These films are very different, yet both understand that art can preserve something precious when the world seems determined to destroy it.

And perhaps that is the most hopeful thing we can take away from this year’s festival.

In a time of political division, technological upheaval and genuine uncertainty about the future, filmmakers continue to make works of astonishing beauty, intelligence and compassion. Audiences continue to seek them out. Cinemas continue to fill with people willing to give themselves over to a story.

For eleven days, Vancouver has been a city of movie lovers, united by curiosity and the shared pleasure of discovery. The festival ends, but the films remain with us, becoming part of our private histories, our conversations and our understanding of one another.

Here’s to VIFF 46. Here’s to the filmmakers who will surprise us, the performances that will break our hearts, and the stories that will remind us what we share.

And here’s to the simple, extraordinary miracle of sitting in a darkened cinema, surrounded by strangers, and discovering that, for a little while, we are all watching the world together.

#VIFF2026: Vancouver’s 11-Day Passport to the World

There is something faintly ridiculous about living in Vancouver and complaining that “there’s nothing to do.”

Nothing to do?

For 11 days every October, Vancouver becomes one of the great movie cities of North America. More than 160 films descend upon theatres scattered across the city.

Filmmakers arrive from around the world. Actors, critics, programmers, students, obsessives and people who simply love sitting in a dark room while somebody else’s story unfolds gather together.

And then, 11 days later, we go back to pretending that Vancouver is a city where nothing ever happens.

Enough of that.

The 45th annual Vancouver International Film Festival, running October 1st through October 11th, is back — and this year’s edition is shaping up to be one of those festivals where the problem isn’t finding something worth seeing.

The problem is deciding what you can possibly miss.

VIFF’s 2026 programme brings together more than 160 features and dozens of shorts, alongside VIFF Talks, live performances, special events, industry programming and conversations with some of the people actually making the movies and television that shape our culture. VIFF itself describes the festival as a showcase of exceptional cinema from around the globe, and the breadth of the programme makes that description difficult, near impossible, to dispute.

But let’s start where any serious cinephile should start:

The Galas and Special Presentations

This is the section where VIFF essentially says: Here are the movies everybody will be talking about.

And, frankly, it has put together a hell of a list.

THE PALME D’OR COMES TO VANCOUVER

Cristian Mungiu’s Fjord is the obvious place to begin.

The Romanian filmmaker — already a Palme d’Or winner for 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days — returns with another morally complicated drama, this time about a conservative family confronting the progressive values of a Norwegian community.

Sebastian Stan and Renate Reinsve lead the cast, and the film’s central conflict concerns parenting, religion, state scrutiny and the increasingly uncomfortable question of where tolerance ends.

This isn’t the sort of movie that tells you who the good guys are.

Thank God.

Mungiu is interested in the uncomfortable grey territory where decent people make questionable decisions and societies convinced of their own righteousness discover that tolerance can become a very complicated thing indeed.

Fjord won the Palme d’Or at Cannes. It is exactly the kind of movie that makes a film festival matter.

And, yes, this is one of the films VanRamblings would put very high on the “see it before everybody starts talking about the Oscars” list.

THEN THINGS GET DARK

If Fjord is morally knotty, Andrey Zvyagintsev’s Minotaur is downright ominous.

Set against the fallout from Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, the film follows a corporate executive attempting to keep the consequences of war outside his home — until his wife’s infidelity sends his carefully constructed life crashing down.

Zvyagintsev won the Grand Prix at Cannes, and Minotaur has the kind of icy, mythic quality that makes a domestic thriller feel considerably larger than the marriage at its centre.

This is a movie about betrayal.

But it is also about power.

And corruption.

And a political culture in which violence doesn’t remain outside the front door simply because the protagonist would prefer it to.

If Minotaur sounds bleak, well, Zvyagintsev isn’t exactly known for making Paddington.

But he is one of contemporary cinema’s great observers of what happens when private lives collide with rotten political systems.

VIFF gives Vancouver audiences three opportunities to see it, including screenings at The Park Theatre, Granville Island and the Vancouver Playhouse.

PAWLIKOWSKI’S POSTWAR EUROPE

Then there’s Fatherland, from Paweł Pawlikowski.

Pawlikowski won the Oscar for Ida, received three Academy Award nominations for Cold War, and has established himself as one of the most visually distinctive filmmakers working today.

Fatherland may be his most explicitly historical film.

Nobel laureate Thomas Mann returns to postwar Germany with his daughter Erika, confronting the moral wreckage of a country struggling to understand what it has become.

Shot in exquisite black and white, Fatherland won Pawlikowski the Best Director prize at Cannes.

The subject is Germany.

But the questions are universal:

What does it mean to return home?

What does it mean to be complicit?

Can a country reckon with its past without rewriting it?

And can a family?

Sandra Hüller, one of European cinema’s most extraordinary actors, is here too.

Put this one on your calendar.

CANNES ALSO GAVE US CLUB KID

Then, thankfully, VIFF gives us Club Kid, Jordan Firstman’s audacious début.

A hedonistic New York club promoter suddenly discovers that he has a 10-year-old son he never knew existed.

Cue chaos.

The premise sounds like the setup for a Hollywood comedy.

Firstman has something considerably stranger in mind.

Club Kid mixes queer New York nightlife, comedy, parenthood, redemption and unexpected tenderness. It is exuberant without being empty, funny without being disposable.

Cannes embraced it.

VanRamblings suspects Vancouver will too.

And this is where the great pleasure of VIFF begins.

You come for the Palme d’Or winner.

You stay because some filmmaker you’ve never heard of knocks you sideways.

MIKE LEIGH’S POSSIBLE FAREWELL

There is another film in this year’s Special Presentations that carries an entirely different kind of weight.

Tender Loving Care, from Mike Leigh.

Leigh is one of the great humanist filmmakers of the last half-century. His films have always been interested in people who don’t necessarily command headlines but whose lives contain entire universes.

Here he follows Amy and Rosie, best friends and social workers caring for some of society’s most dispossessed people.

Funny.

Sad.

Tender.

Sometimes all three at once.

And perhaps most significantly, this may be Leigh’s final film.

If so, Tender Loving Care becomes more than another Special Presentation. It becomes a farewell from one of British cinema’s essential chroniclers of ordinary human beings.

VIFF is giving audiences several opportunities to see it.

HELLO, OSCARS

And now we arrive at the annual VIFF parlor game:

Which of these films will we be talking about when the Academy Award nominations are announced?

The answer, of course, is that nobody knows.

But that doesn’t stop us from having fun.

Jesse Eisenberg’s The Début, starring Julianne Moore and Paul Giamatti, opens VIFF with an Invitation-Only Gala at the Vancouver Playhouse, followed by public screenings.

Moore plays Mona, a meek woman who gets cast in a community musical and gradually becomes consumed by the character she is playing.

It sounds funny.

It also sounds increasingly unhinged.

And Julianne Moore doing psychologically complicated, emotionally vulnerable, slightly dangerous is exactly the sort of thing that can get an Academy voter’s attention.

VanRamblings is not predicting an Oscar nomination.

We’re just saying watch Julianne Moore.

There is a difference.

Then there’s James Gray’s Paper Tiger, starring Adam Driver, Scarlett Johansson and Miles Teller.

1986 Queens.

Two brothers.

A Russian criminal syndicate.

Family.

Loyalty.

Ambition.

And the inevitable realization that American dreams have a nasty habit of becoming American nightmares.

Gray has spent his career making intimate crime stories that are really family dramas. Little Odessa, The Yards, We Own the Night, The Immigrant — his films understand that crime isn’t really about guns and money.

It’s about what people will do to the people they love.

Paper Tiger looks like classic Gray territory.

And that is very good news indeed.

DON’T IGNORE THE FILMS MADE HERE

Then comes Vancouver’s own Mina Shum with Whatcha Want.

A wealthy Hong Kong trophy wife discovers her husband’s infidelity and begins rediscovering her passion for dance.

Shum, whose Meditation Park was another beautifully observed portrait of Asian-Canadian life, returns with a hip-hop-infused film that is unmistakably Vancouver while reaching far beyond Vancouver.

This is precisely why VIFF matters to this city.

We are not merely importing movies from the rest of the world.

We are making movies that belong to the world.

Whatcha Want is one of them.

AND THEN THERE ARE ALL THE OTHER MOVIES

Here’s the thing.

We could keep going.

And going.

And going.

Because the Special Presentations are only one part of VIFF.

There is All of a Sudden, Ryûsuke Hamaguchi’s nearly three-hour meditation on mortality, care and human connection.

There is Pedro Almodóvar’s Bitter Christmas, a mischievous comedy about autofiction and the dangers of filmmakers stealing their friends’ lives for art.

There is Your Mother Your Mother Your Mother, with Mahershala Ali and John Cho, an action thriller involving an assassin, single parenthood and a far-right religious militia.

There is I Play Rocky, Peter Farrelly’s account of Sylvester Stallone betting everything on the screenplay that became Rocky.

There is The Liberation, starring Carrie Coon and Lily James.

There is Kore-eda Hirokazu’s tender Look Back.

There is Lukas Dhont’s Coward.

And there is Andrew Haigh’s A Long Winter, set in the Rockies in the 1950s.

That is before we even leave the Gala section.

Beyond it, VIFF spreads into Showcase, Panorama, Focus, Vanguard, Northern Lights, Insights, Spectrum, Portraits, Altered States, Leading Lights, Short Forum and MODES.

In other words:

Bring comfortable shoes.

DON’T FORGET THE SHORTS

And please, for the love of cinema, don’t treat the shorts as filler.

VIFF Short Forum offers programmes with titles such as The Scarier One, Anthropomaxx, Workers of the World, Immanence: A Life, Somewhere Else, Archive Lives!, War at Home, Queer Magic and Big Time Sensuality.

These are not cinematic leftovers.

They are where filmmakers take risks because they don’t need 120 minutes to justify them.

One Short Forum programme, Workers of the World, brings together films exploring working-class life and a system that has betrayed its promises.

Archive Lives! examines the relationship between memory and what eventually becomes history.

Queer Magic asks, rather wonderfully, whether magic is something we might actually believe in.

This is the stuff you discover at festivals — films you didn’t know existed, filmmakers whose names mean nothing to you at breakfast and everything to you by dinner.

AND VIFF IS MORE THAN MOVIES

Carrie Coon is this year’s recipient of the VIFF Luminary Award

One of the things that has increasingly distinguished VIFF is that it understands film culture isn’t confined to the screen.

The VIFF Talks series brings directors, writers, producers, showrunners, composers and other craftspeople into conversation with audiences.

This year’s programme includes Carrie Coon, recipient of a VIFF Luminary Award, and a conversation with composer and DEVO co-founder Mark Mothersbaugh, whose work has ranged from Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums to Thor: Ragnarok.

And then there is VIFF Live, which this year explores what the festival describes as “reworlding” — bringing music, electronic performance, comedy and other forms of live culture into the cinematic experience.

Among the offerings is an evening with composer Cristóbal Tapia de Veer and Derrick Gee’s Radio Hour.

This is a film festival refusing to pretend that cinema exists in isolation.

It doesn’t.

Cinema is music.

Cinema is performance.

Cinema is politics, architecture, photography, costume, editing, sound, history and memory.

Cinema is culture.

HOW TO SURVIVE VIFF

Now for the boring but necessary part.

Tickets are on sale now.

A regular adult ticket is $22, seniors are $20, students/youth $19 and accessible tickets $17, before GST.

Six-ticket packs are $126; 10-ticket packs are $200.

The Festival Pass and Senior Festival Pass are currently sold out, while the Platinum Pass is $1,300.

The VIFF Centre is at 1181 Seymour Street, but during the festival every VIFF theatre serves as a box office.

That is important.

You don’t have to trek back downtown every time you need a ticket.

The theatres open their box offices 30 minutes before the first screening of the day; the Vancouver Playhouse opens 45 minutes beforehand. Most venues are cashless.

And don’t panic when a film says Sold Out.

VIFF releases additional ticket allotments closer to screenings when available, and there are standby lines.

The festival’s advice is essentially simple: get there early.

VanRamblings’ advice is even simpler:

Don’t arrive at 7:58 for an 8:00 movie on the other side of town.

Vancouver traffic has no respect for cinema.

WHERE TO GO

A full VIFF audience in attendance at the Vancouver Playhouse, one of VIFF’s première venues

VIFF’s venues stretch from the Vancouver Playhouse and VIFF Centre to The Cinematheque, International Village, The Rio, The Park Theatre, Fifth Avenue Cinemas, Granville Island, SFU Woodward’s and Alliance Française.

Some venues are 19+ — notably The Rio, Park and Fifth Avenue — so check before taking the kids.

The geographic spread is actually part of the fun.

International Village means Chinatown is downstairs and around the corner.

The Rio puts you in the middle of Commercial Drive.

The Park gives you Cambie.

Granville Island gives you, well, Granville Island.

The Cinematheque puts you downtown.

The VIFF Centre gives you the closest thing to festival headquarters.

And all of these neighbourhoods offer food.

Lots of it.

So don’t think of the gap between films as dead time.

It is the festival.

Go for dim sum.

Grab coffee.

Have dinner.

Argue about whether the ending worked.

Then go back into another theatre and discover that the film you thought you were seeing at 9 p.m. has absolutely nothing to do with the film you just spent two hours discussing.

That’s the point.

Transit is also your friend. VIFF directs audiences to TransLink for routes and schedules, and with venues spread across Vancouver, public transportation is generally preferable to attempting to drive and park between multiple screenings.

Accessibility is another important part of the festival. VIFF cinemas have hearing-assistance systems, selected screenings offer closed captions, and the festival provides accessibility information for individual venues.

THE REAL REASON TO GO

You can attend VIFF because Fjord won Cannes.

You can attend because Pawlikowski won Best Director.

You can attend because Julianne Moore might be in the Oscar conversation.

You can attend because Adam Driver, Scarlett Johansson and Miles Teller are in Paper Tiger.

You can attend because Mike Leigh may be saying goodbye.

You can attend because Mina Shum is bringing Vancouver to the world.

But those aren’t really the reasons to go.

You go because you don’t know what you’re going to discover.

A film festival is one of the last places in modern life where discovery still happens without an algorithm telling you what you are supposed to like.

Netflix knows what it thinks you want.

YouTube knows what it thinks you want.

Spotify knows what it thinks you want.

VIFF doesn’t care.

VIFF says:

Here. Watch this.

And sometimes the movie is magnificent.

Sometimes it’s infuriating.

Sometimes it’s boring.

Sometimes you walk out wondering what the hell you just watched.

And occasionally — gloriously — you walk out knowing you have just seen something you will remember for the rest of your life.

That’s why the 45th Vancouver International Film Festival matters.

Because for eleven days, Vancouver becomes something more than a city of glass towers, mountains and expensive real estate.

It becomes a meeting place.

A Romanian filmmaker meets a Vancouver audience.

A Japanese filmmaker meets a Canadian family.

A Palestinian story meets somebody who has never been anywhere near Palestine.

A Russian film asks uncomfortable questions about power.

A Korean film makes us laugh.

A Norwegian story makes us reconsider tolerance.

A Vancouver filmmaker tells a Hong Kong story.

A stranger sitting beside us laughs at precisely the same moment we do.

Someone cries.

Someone applauds.

Someone hates the movie.

Someone else thinks it is the greatest thing they’ve ever seen.

And for those two hours, none of that matters.

The lights go down.

The world comes in.

We sit together in the dark.

Borders disappear.

Languages cease to be barriers.

The lives of people we have never met become, briefly, our lives.

That is the extraordinary, almost old-fashioned magic of cinema.

And that is the real gift of VIFF.

It isn’t simply that Vancouver gets to see the world.

It is that, for eleven days, the world gets to remind Vancouver that we are part of it.

So forget the rain.

Forget the traffic.

Forget the usual Vancouver complaint that there’s nothing to do.

Buy a ticket, or two or three, or a pass.

Take the SkyTrain.

Walk into a theatre.

Sit down beside a stranger.

And let the lights go down.

For a little while, in the darkness, we are all watching the same world.

And maybe — just maybe — we will walk back out into it seeing one another a little differently.

#VIFF2026 | Galas and Special Presentations. Pt. 3

Cinema Without Borders

There is something wonderfully democratic about a great film festival.

For eleven days in October, Vancouver becomes a city without borders. The streets may still be wet with autumn rain, the mountains may disappear behind a curtain of cloud, and the Pacific may be doing its usual grey-and-silver impression, but inside Vancouver’s cinemas the world suddenly opens up.

That is the particular magic of the Vancouver International Film Festival.

The films in this third and final installment of VanRamblings’ look at VIFF 45’s Galas and Special Presentations, which arrive in Vancouver carrying the accumulated history of a remarkable festival year. Their passports stretch from Belgium and Austria to South Korea, Japan, Spain, Britain and the United States.

Their journeys have taken them through the great international cinematic capitals — Sundance in January, Berlin in February, Cannes in May, Telluride and Venice in late summer, Toronto in September and, as October begins, New York. Along the way, they have collected prizes, Oscar submissions, critical attention and, perhaps most importantly, the conversations that surround films before they finally reach Vancouver.

And what a collection it is.

Guy Nattiv brings The Liberation, a psychologically unsettling drama starring Carrie Coon as a woman attempting to escape the weight of her past. Lukas Dhont follows his extraordinary Girl and Close with Coward, a wartime love story whose two young stars shared Cannes’ Best Performance by an Actor prize.

Markus Schleinzer offers Rose, with Sandra Hüller — one of contemporary cinema’s most extraordinary performers — winning the Silver Bear for her astonishing central performance at Berlin.

Then there is Lee Chang-dong’s Possible Love, South Korea’s Oscar submission, a coolly devastating examination of class, labour, desire and the distance between those who have everything and those who have almost nothing.

Kore-eda Hirokazu’s Look Back turns friendship, youth, drawing and the very act of storytelling into something almost transcendent. Andrew Haigh’s A Long Winter brings the Canadian Rockies of Alberta to cinematic life, while Tony Gilroy’s Behemoth! gives Pedro Pascal one of his richest and most surprising dramatic roles.

And then there is La Bola Negra, Javier Ambrossi and Javier Calvo’s audacious Spanish-language historical melodrama, which won Best Director at Cannes and subsequently captured TIFF’s People’s Choice Award.

Finally, Martin McDonagh closes the festival with Wild Horse Nine, a darkly comic political adventure starring John Malkovich, Sam Rockwell, Steve Buscemi, Tom Waits and Parker Posey.

Nine films. Nine visions. Nine reminders that cinema is not one language, one culture or one way of seeing.

It is the world — looking back at us.


THE LIBERATION
Guy Nattiv

There are filmmakers who make movies about ideas, and there are filmmakers who make movies about wounds. Guy Nattiv belongs firmly in the second category.

His The Liberation begins with a woman named Rita, played by Carrie Coon, who has spent much of her life carrying the invisible weight of trauma. She encounters Ricki, a charismatic and manipulative spiritual leader played by Lily James, and makes the extraordinary decision to abandon her family and join an all-female commune. When Rita’s daughters, Ella and Jo — played by Bella Ramsey and Odessa Young — arrive unexpectedly, the fragile architecture of her new life begins to collapse.

What makes The Liberation especially intriguing is the deeply personal source material behind Nattiv’s film. The director has drawn upon the experiences of his grandmother, a Holocaust survivor who became involved with a cult. That autobiographical element gives the film a seriousness that extends beyond the familiar mechanics of the cult movie. This is not simply a story about manipulation. It is about what happens when a person becomes so desperate to escape one kind of suffering that they become vulnerable to another.

Nattiv knows something about cinema that begins in trauma. His Oscar-winning short Skin, which he subsequently transformed into a feature, established his interest in extremism, identity and the psychological consequences of hatred. Golda, starring Helen Mirren, brought the director into the territory of historical trauma and political responsibility. His Tatami, which premièred at Venice, extended those concerns into a remarkable collaboration across national and political boundaries.

With The Liberation, Nattiv moves inward.

Carrie Coon is the film’s great dramatic force. Rita is not presented as a monster, a fool or a victim. She is a woman trying, however imperfectly, to liberate herself. That distinction matters. The film’s question is not simply why people fall under the influence of charismatic leaders. It asks what emotional conditions make surrender feel like freedom.

Coon has always been an actor capable of suggesting enormous psychological landscapes with the smallest alteration of expression. Here, that quality appears ideally suited to Nattiv’s purposes. Rita’s transformation is frightening precisely because it is comprehensible.

The result, according to VIFF, is an unsettling but empathetic thriller about freedom, devotion and control.

And that is where Nattiv’s film becomes something more than a thriller.

Sometimes the most dangerous prison is the one we enter believing it will save us.


COWARD
Lukas Dhont

Lukas Dhont’s Girl announced the arrival of a filmmaker fascinated by identity, embodiment and the terrible vulnerability of adolescence. Close confirmed that fascination while expanding it into one of the most devastating films of recent European cinema. With Coward, Dhont moves into the First World War, but he remains interested in essentially the same question:

How does a human being find the courage to become fully themselves?

Pierre, played by Emmanuel Macchia, leaves his family farm to fight for Belgium. In the trenches he encounters Francis, portrayed by Valentin Campagne, a magnetic young soldier who stages theatrical productions for his comrades, offering them temporary escape from the carnage surrounding them. Pierre becomes part of the troupe, and the friendship between the two men slowly becomes something more dangerous, more intimate and more difficult to conceal.

The genius of the premise is the contrast between theatre and war.

The battlefield is supposedly the place where men prove their courage. Yet Dhont suggests that the greater courage may lie elsewhere — in admitting desire, in allowing tenderness, in refusing to let society dictate the boundaries of one’s identity.

The title Coward becomes an accusation without ever having to be spoken. What is cowardice? Is it fear of death? Fear of battle? Or is it the inability to acknowledge the truth about oneself because the consequences are too terrifying?

At Cannes, Macchia and Campagne shared the festival’s Best Performance by an Actor prize, an extraordinary recognition for the emotional intimacy at the centre of the film. Belgium has also selected Coward as its submission for the Academy Awards.

Dhont’s progression as a filmmaker is remarkable. Girl won the Caméra d’Or at Cannes; Close won the Grand Prix and received an Academy Award nomination for Best International Feature. With Coward, he takes a much larger canvas without abandoning the intimate emotional spaces that distinguish his work.

The wartime setting could easily have overwhelmed the love story. Instead, it intensifies it.

Every moment of tenderness becomes an act of resistance. Every theatrical performance becomes a temporary escape from death. Every glance between Pierre and Francis carries the knowledge that the world around them does not permit them the freedom they desire.

There are films about war that show us the machinery of destruction.

Coward is interested in what survives it.

Love. Desire. Performance. Friendship.

And the terrifying bravery required to say: this is who I am.


ROSE

Markus Schleinzer

Sandra Hüller is having one of those years that occasionally happen to great actors — the kind of year when it seems impossible to walk into a cinema without encountering another extraordinary performance.

In Markus Schleinzer’s Rose, she plays a disfigured soldier who arrives in a rural German community in the aftermath of the Thirty Years’ War claiming to be the rightful heir to a neglected piece of farmland. The soldier cultivates the land, adopts Protestant beliefs and takes a wife. But beneath the masculine identity is a profound secret: Rose was born a woman.

Schleinzer’s film is inspired by actual events, although, as VIFF notes, it takes liberties with the historical record. What matters is less historical reconstruction than the parable Schleinzer builds from it.

This is a film about the strange freedoms that can emerge when society’s rules are temporarily suspended.

The Thirty Years’ War has left the landscape damaged, depopulated and suspicious. Into that world comes a person who discovers that the identity society would normally deny can become a source of power. “There is freedom in trousers,” the film suggests — an idea that is simultaneously comic, tragic and politically pointed.

Hüller is extraordinary.

The actor who electrified audiences in Toni Erdmann, The Zone of Interest and Anatomy of a Fall has become one of European cinema’s most fascinating performers precisely because she never seems to be performing for us. Her characters possess an interiority that the camera discovers rather than announces.

At Berlin, that achievement was recognized with the Silver Bear for Best Lead Performance. Austria has selected Rose as its Oscar submission.

Schleinzer, whose previous films include Michael and Angelo, works here with extraordinary restraint. His compositions have the severity of religious paintings. The landscapes are austere, the faces weathered, the silences meaningful. Yet there is also a vein of dry humour running through the film, preventing Rose from becoming solemn historical pageantry.

That balance is crucial.

This is not simply a film about gender identity. It is about the arbitrary nature of the identities society constructs for us — male, female, soldier, farmer, husband, wife, outsider, citizen. Rose discovers that one can sometimes escape the boundaries of one identity only by assuming another.

The achievement of Schleinzer and Hüller is that they make the transformation feel neither miraculous nor ideological.

It feels human.

And that, ultimately, is why Rose lingers.


POSSIBLE LOVE

Lee Chang-dong

Eight years is a long time to wait for a new film from Lee Chang-dong.

The Korean master has made relatively few films — Peppermint Candy, Oasis, Secret Sunshine, Poetry and Burning among them — but almost every one has become a landmark of contemporary Asian cinema. Now, after Burning, comes Possible Love, a 164-minute drama about two married couples separated by money, class, circumstance and the invisible architecture of economic privilege.

Lee begins with the idea of “Thou shalt not covet,” drawing inspiration from the tenth episode of Krzysztof Kieślowski’s Dekalog. But Possible Love is not a conventional morality tale.

It is far more uncomfortable than that.

Ho-seok, played by Sul Kyung-gu, is a laid-off worker whose bitterness has hardened into silence. His wife Mi-ok, played by Jeon Do-yeon, possesses a warmth and resilience that initially seems almost incompatible with his withdrawal. They encounter Ye-ji, a wealthy filmmaker played by Cho Yeo-jeong, who wants to document the lives of workers displaced by a bitter strike. Her husband Sang-woo, played by Zo In-sung, belongs to an entirely different economic universe.

The film’s central irony is that Ye-ji believes she is observing inequality while simultaneously participating in it.

She has the money to make a film about people who do not. She can turn their suffering into art. They cannot escape the circumstances that created the suffering in the first place.

Lee is too sophisticated to make this a simple rich-versus-poor polemic. His characters are allowed contradictions. They behave generously and selfishly. They misunderstand one another. They desire one another’s lives while failing to understand what those lives actually contain.

Critics at Venice and Toronto have responded strongly to precisely that complexity, with Possible Love being described as an intricate examination of class, desire, labour and human connection.

South Korea has chosen the film as its Oscar submission.

That makes sense. But awards machinery is almost beside the point.

What matters is the way Lee slowly changes our understanding of his characters. What begins as a social drama becomes a psychological drama; what begins as observation becomes participation; what looks like friendship begins to acquire unsettling dimensions.

The film asks whether empathy is possible across an economic divide so enormous that the two sides effectively inhabit different worlds.

And perhaps the answer is Lee’s title.

Possible.

Not certain.

But possible.


LOOK BACK

Kore-eda Hirokazu

There are few filmmakers in the world who understand childhood as intimately as Kore-eda Hirokazu.

His films have repeatedly returned to children, families, friendships and the strange emotional territory between innocence and experience. With Look Back, however, Kore-eda turns his attention not simply to youth but to the act of creation itself.

Fujino is a talented young manga artist, confident, popular and accustomed to admiration. Then she discovers Kyomoto, a homeschooled girl whose drawing ability rivals — and perhaps exceeds — her own. What begins as rivalry becomes collaboration. Collaboration becomes friendship. Friendship becomes something much deeper. And, as happens in the most tender stories, life eventually intervenes.

Kore-eda adapts Tatsuki Fujimoto’s acclaimed manga, previously brought to the screen as an animated feature, but his version is unmistakably his own.

The extraordinary thing about Look Back is the attention paid to the physical act of making art.

Pencil scratches paper.

Pages accumulate.

Hands move.

A train rumbles somewhere in the distance.

A young artist looks at another artist’s work and realizes that the world is larger than she had imagined.

This is a film about storytelling, but also about the people who make storytelling possible.

Kore-eda has always been fascinated by the emotional architecture of relationships. Here, that architecture is built through drawings. Fujino and Kyomoto discover that they can communicate through art in ways they cannot necessarily articulate through ordinary conversation. Their manga becomes the place where their friendship lives.

The result is, in VIFF’s words, a work that is both sensually beautiful and deeply moving. Critics at Venice and Toronto have similarly responded to its tenderness, its visual delicacy and its exploration of friendship and artistic creation.

There is also something deeply personal in Kore-eda choosing this material.

A filmmaker makes films for much the same reason a child draws pictures: to understand something that cannot otherwise be understood.

Why did this happen?

Why did I meet this person?

Why did they leave?

Why does a particular moment remain with us when so many others disappear?

Look Back does not offer easy answers.

Instead, it suggests that perhaps art itself is the answer — not because art can repair the past, but because it allows us to remember what mattered.

A pencil moves across a page.

A story begins.

And for a little while, the dead, the lost and the departed remain with us.


A LONG WINTER

Andrew Haigh

Andrew Haigh has spent much of his career examining the mysteries of intimacy: what people reveal, what they conceal and what happens when the emotional structures holding a family together begin to crack.

A Long Winter takes that fascination into the Colorado Rockies of the 1950s — although Vancouver audiences will recognize something closer to home in the fact that the film was shot in spectacular Alberta locations.

Fred Hechinger plays Mike, a young man living with his parents and younger brother in a remote cabin fifteen miles from town. His father, Lester, is played by Ebon Moss-Bachrach; his mother, Louise, by Caitríona Balfe; his younger brother, preparing to leave for Korea, is played by Kit Connor.

It is a family trapped not only by geography but by the emotional limitations of the world in which it lives.

Haigh adapted the film from a short story by Colm Tóibín, a project he first acquired more than a decade ago. After 45 Years and All of Us Strangers, Haigh has become one of the finest contemporary filmmakers working in the territory between love and loneliness.

Here, the landscape becomes an emotional character.

The mountains are enormous. The cabin is tiny.

Outside there is almost infinite space. Inside, four people can barely breathe.

When the family’s fragile equilibrium is shattered, Mike begins a painful journey toward adulthood. The disappearance of his mother forces him to confront truths about his father, his family and himself that have been buried beneath years of silence. Critics have noted the film’s treatment of masculinity, desire, grief and the emotional consequences of a rigid family structure.

What makes Haigh so effective is his refusal to rush.

A Long Winter understands that families rarely explode all at once. They fracture slowly. A sentence is left unfinished. A glance lasts a second too long. Someone goes outside and does not come back.

Then winter arrives.

Haigh’s use of Alberta’s vast landscapes gives the film an almost mythic quality, while the performances keep it intimate. Hechinger brings a fragile openness to Mike, while Moss-Bachrach and Balfe give the parents a complicated mixture of love, resentment, disappointment and need.

The result is a winter western without the usual mythology of the West.

No conquering hero.

No easy redemption.

Only a young man learning that becoming an adult sometimes means discovering that the people who raised you are as frightened, damaged and incomplete as you are.

And that, perhaps, is where adulthood really begins.


BEHEMOTH!

Tony Gilroy

Tony Gilroy has spent much of his career writing about people trapped inside systems — intelligence agencies, corporations, political institutions, families, professional hierarchies. His Michael Clayton remains one of the great American films about moral compromise.

With Behemoth!, Gilroy turns inward.

Pedro Pascal plays Alex, a professional cellist who walks away from the Chicago Symphony and returns to Los Angeles to care for his ailing mother. At least, that is the story he tells people. The truth is considerably messier: Alex is also escaping the consequences of his latest romantic entanglement, involving a terrifying Olivia Wilde.

Alex is a musician who should have become something larger than he is.

Instead, he has become a man permanently in retreat.

There is enormous comic potential in that premise, and Gilroy exploits it. But Behemoth! is not simply a comedy about a failed musician. It is a meditation on inheritance — artistic inheritance, familial inheritance and the emotional debts we accumulate without ever agreeing to repay them.

Making Alex a cellist is an inspired decision.

Music provides Gilroy with something that dialogue cannot. The film can move between performance and memory, between the discipline required to make beautiful music and the chaos of a man who cannot organize his own life.

Pascal is particularly well suited to the contradiction. His screen persona has increasingly become associated with warmth, vulnerability and a slightly battered charm. Alex weaponizes none of those qualities. He simply drifts through life hoping that the next problem will somehow solve the previous one.

It rarely does.

Gilroy, now 69, brings to the film the experience of a filmmaker who has spent decades watching people negotiate systems larger than themselves. His directorial début, Michael Clayton, received seven Academy Award nominations, while his later work includes Duplicity, The Bourne Legacy and Rogue One: A Star Wars Story. His television work on Andor further demonstrated his fascination with resistance, sacrifice and institutional power.

Behemoth! is considerably more personal.

It is funny, strange, melancholy and unexpectedly tender. VIFF describes it as a novelistic character study unfolding across roughly fifteen years of Alex’s life, combining humour and suspense with a deeper examination of inheritance and connection.

The title is ironic.

Alex is no behemoth.

He is a man trying to find his way home.

And discovering that home is not necessarily a place.

Sometimes it is the person you finally become willing to stay for.


LA BOLA NEGRA

Javier Ambrossi & Javier Calvo

Some films announce their ambitions immediately.

La Bola Negra simply gets on with them.

The second feature from Spanish writer-directors Javier Ambrossi and Javier Calvo — affectionately known in Spain as “Los Javis” — is an enormous historical melodrama built around three timelines, three gay protagonists and an unfinished work by Federico García Lorca.

The film moves between 1932, 1937 and 2017.

Its central wartime story follows Sebastián, played by singer Guitarricadelafuente, who is conscripted into the fascist forces during the Spanish Civil War and ordered to befriend a leftist prisoner, played by Miguel Bernardeau. Five years earlier, Carlos is rejected by his father’s club because of his sexuality. In 2017, writer-historian Alberto receives a mysterious inheritance that sends him searching through the past.

These stories eventually begin to speak to one another.

And that is where the film’s real power lies.

Ambrossi and Calvo are not merely reconstructing history. They are asking how history survives inside families, inside photographs, inside secrets, inside bodies.

Queer history is often a history of absence.

The people who came before us did not always have the luxury of leaving records behind. Sometimes they left only a rumour, a photograph, a letter, an unexplained relationship, a forbidden love.

La Bola Negra turns those fragments into cinema.

The film won the Best Director prize at Cannes for Ambrossi and Calvo, sharing the award with Paweł Pawlikowski for Fatherland. Then, at Toronto, it won the People’s Choice Award — a particularly significant honour because it represents the response of festival audiences themselves.

Its cast is extraordinary, including Penélope Cruz and Glenn Close alongside the younger ensemble.

But the real star may be the structure itself.

Three eras.

Three men.

One continuing struggle to live openly.

The title comes from Lorca’s unfinished play, and the filmmakers transform that fragment into a meditation on all the stories that history leaves unfinished.

There is something thrillingly old-fashioned about the ambition of La Bola Negra. It wants to be a great historical melodrama. It wants romance and politics, repression and desire, family secrets and national memory.

And somehow it gets away with it.

In an era when cinema often seems afraid of excess, Los Javis embrace it.

They give us colour, history, sexuality, music, grief, humour and spectacle.

Most importantly, they give us people who refuse to disappear.


WILD HORSE NINE

Martin McDonagh

And then, as the 45th Vancouver International Film Festival approaches its final curtain, Martin McDonagh arrives with Wild Horse Nine.

What better way to close a film festival than with McDonagh — a filmmaker whose cinema has always been fascinated by violence, absurdity, damaged people and the strange comedy that exists somewhere between tragedy and despair?

Wild Horse Nine takes us to Easter Island shortly before the 1973 Chilean coup. CIA agents Chris and Lee, played by John Malkovich and Sam Rockwell, are sent from Santiago by their bureau chief, MJ, played by Steve Buscemi. Among the island’s extraordinary statues, old conspiracies, old sins and new friendships begin to collide.

The cast alone is enough to make a cinephile sit up.

Malkovich.

Rockwell.

Buscemi.

Tom Waits.

Parker Posey.

And at the centre of it all, McDonagh.

The filmmaker behind In Bruges, Seven Psychopaths, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri and The Banshees of Inisherin has perfected a peculiar cinematic language in which cruelty and comedy are never far apart. His characters are frequently wounded people who behave badly because they do not know how else to behave.

Wild Horse Nine places that sensibility inside the machinery of Cold War geopolitics.

Chris and Lee are professional conspirators, men whose careers have been built on secrets. Yet their journey to Easter Island brings them into contact with young people who possess something the agents have long since lost: the possibility of believing that the world might be changed.

That collision between youthful idealism and institutional cynicism is where McDonagh finds his drama.

And John Malkovich is perfectly cast.

McDonagh has written a role that gives Malkovich the opportunity to combine menace, melancholy, intelligence and comic absurdity. The performance has already become part of the awards-season conversation, although the Academy’s nominations, of course, remain months away.

The film premièred in competition at Venice, where its political themes immediately attracted attention. McDonagh has spoken publicly about the CIA’s history of intervention and the historical realities surrounding the 1973 Chilean coup.

Yet Wild Horse Nine is not a lecture.

It is a McDonagh film.

Which means that somewhere amid the politics, the violence and the history there will be laughter — often at exactly the moment when laughter seems least appropriate.

That is the McDonagh gift.

He reminds us that absurdity is not the opposite of tragedy.

Sometimes it is how human beings survive it.

And as VIFF 45 closes, Wild Horse Nine sends the audience back into Vancouver carrying precisely that uneasy mixture of laughter, melancholy, history and wonder that great cinema leaves behind.


Cinema has always been a way of traveling without leaving our seats.

At VIFF, the journey becomes almost impossibly vast. A Belgian soldier meets a lover in the trenches. An Austrian outsider walks into a German village. Two Korean couples discover the invisible walls separating rich from poor. Two Japanese girls discover friendship through the scratch of pencil on paper.

A family disappears into the snow. A musician returns home. Three generations in Spain inherit the secrets of those who came before them. American agents arrive on an island at the edge of the world, carrying the ghosts of a history they helped create.

And somehow, sitting in Vancouver, we recognize them all.

That is the miracle.

The people on the screen may speak French, Dutch, Korean, Japanese, Spanish or German. They may live in wartime Europe, postwar Asia, rural Alberta, contemporary Seoul or an island thousands of kilometres across the Pacific. Their politics may be different. Their histories may be different. Their religions, languages, landscapes and customs may be different.

Yet the things they want are hauntingly familiar: to be loved, to be understood, to belong, to be forgiven, to escape the mistakes of the past, to protect the people they care about, to find some small corner of freedom in a world that so often tells us who we are supposed to be.

And so, every October, Vancouver opens its doors to the world.

For eleven days, the city becomes something larger than itself.

The Vancouver International Film Festival reminds us that cinema is not merely entertainment, nor simply an industry, nor even an art form. It is a conversation — between strangers, between generations, between countries, between people who may never meet and yet somehow understand one another. The screen becomes a window. The darkness of the theatre becomes a place of connection. And when the lights come up, we return to our own lives carrying a little of someone else’s with us.

That is why VIFF matters.

Because somewhere in the darkness, in a cinema in Vancouver, a story from the other side of the planet suddenly becomes our story, too.

And for a few precious hours, the world is no longer far away.

It is sitting beside us.

VanRamblings’ Galas and Special Presentations column, Part 1

VanRamblings’ Galas and Special Presentations column, Part 2