I returned to the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) for the first time in nine years (in person, anyway; attended the virtual 2020 edition from my laptop.) I saw 17 films and will be posting reviews in groups of four (and in one case, five.)

ORLANDO, MY POLITICAL BIOGRAPHY

With this unconventional documentary, transgender writer/philosopher/feminist Paul B. Preciado doesn’t so much take Virginia Woolf’s ORLANDO back from the 1992 Sally Potter film starring Tilda Swinton in the title role as he comprehensively shows how her story about a figure living both male and female lives is one decidedly a century ahead of its time. Utilizing the sort of playfulness and defiance once favored by director Derek Jarman (for whom Swinton was a muse), Preciado interviews a score of trans and non-binary persons of all ages and races, each of them wearing the signature ruffled collar favored by Woolf’s character and introducing themselves by proclaiming, “I am (name) and I will be playing the part of Virginia Woolf’s ORLANDO.” 

For a first-time director, it’s arguably uneven: Preciado doesn’t hesitate to confound expectations or startle an audience into submission with a soundtrack swerving between thumping diva house and annihilating thrash metal or phantasmagorical scenarios straight from a particularly wacky Kate Bush music video. No matter how quirky or slapdash he comes across, there’s a sincerity and root-for-the-underdog momentum. His disparate voices coalesce into a Greek chorus where the power of and goodwill executed by individual stories gains focus rather than fixating on the dryness of gender theory or intellectual polemics. ORLANDO becomes a prescient text that’s not necessarily a bible but more of a jumping-off point. What also seemed like sensory overload on first view has had staying power: with time to fully digest all of its thoughts and quirks, this is one of the more innovative and entertaining documentaries I saw at the festival. (Rating: 8/10)

UNICORNS

Luke (Ben Hardy), a working-class straight bloke from Essex, unwittingly wanders into a London gay club and falls hard for Aysha (Jason Patel), a drag queen, making out with him before he realizes he’s not kissing a woman. At first, Luke recoils violently but over time he and Aysha forge a professional relationship that bleeds over into friendship and eventual love.

Co-directed by Sally El-Hosaini (THE SWIMMERS) and screenwriter James Krishna Floyd, UNICORNS is a conventional, slick and unapologetic crowd pleaser. Floyd noted that it takes a “non-binary approach” to a love story for which it’s more commendable than original and yet, despite its calculation and unlikeliness, I found it considerably moving by the end. Much of the credit goes to its two leads, especially Hardy who gives a nuanced, expressive performance that often overrides his inarticulateness and convincingly conveys his internal struggles and growth. Newcomer Patel also excels at delivering the contrast between his flamboyant onstage persona and the far staider version of himself he displays for his conservative parents.

The depiction of an Asian drag culture in the UK is fascinating for how it goes beyond portraying it as a loving but dysfunctional family, ending up in some dark corners that create drama and near-tragic consequences for Aysha. It ultimately brings the two leads closer together but its implications speak of a world where it’s not enough to be who you are, it’s how willing you can be to let others in. Along with Hardy and Patel’s performances, this is what resonated strongly with me at the conclusion. Manipulative? Yes, but also heartfelt. (7/10)

THEY SHOT THE PIANO PLAYER

Bossa Nova music and Jeff Goldblum, together at last. Your mileage may vary depending on either of those things (particularly the latter) but this docu-animation hybrid is a mostly worthy successor to co-directors Fernando Trueba’s and Javier Mariscal’s 2010 Havana-centered feature CHICO AND RITA. Goldblum plays an author (named Jeff, natch) who in a framing device recounts his efforts via a reading at New York City’s famous Strand Bookstore. His goal? To find out what happened to Francisco Tenório Jr., a Brazilian jazz pianist active in the 1950s/60s Bossa Nova scene whom after a few recordings seems to have disappeared. Interviewing an impressive array of living legends from the movement (JoãoGilberto, Caetano Veloso, Gilberto Gil), Jeff gradually pieces together a trajectory of a country that underwent a culture renaissance while also suddenly finding itself subject to totalitarian rule.

As with CHICO AND RITA, the film’s whimsical visual design, Wes Anderson-level attention to detail and vintage music are both delightful and often sublime; Goldblum, himself a musician also feels an apt choice for a narrator. What’s missing here, however, is not only an extensive dive into why Tenório was a great musician but a compelling enough reason to care about his specific disappearance. He comes off as a stand-in for the many so-called dissidents silenced by Brazil’s regime—a collection of fragments rather than a complete portrait. Worth seeing for aficionados of Brazilian jazz and unique animation, but not much of a reach beyond those interests. (6/10)

GONZO GIRL

One of the better-received directed-by-an-actor films populating TIFF this year, this behind-the-camera debut from Patricia Arquette is most notable for another terrific late-career performance from Willem Dafoe. His Walker Reade, a Hunter S. Thompson stand-in works in part because Dafoe doesn’t attempt to emulate the infamous late writer/personality (save for a few sartorial choices). Instead, he embodies his spirit while also coming off as a heightened, drugged up version of, well, himself and does so with such totality and finesse that he almost seems like the protagonist when he isn’t one. That would be Alley (Camila Morrone), the straightlaced college student working as his intern in the summer of 1992.

An adaptation of Cheryl Della Pietra’s memoir of the same name, one can sense what attracted Arquette to making it and also why she’s well-suited for both this material and a smaller role as Reade’s caretaker/drug-runner. It’s best when she doesn’t take the text too seriously and has fun with the more outrageous aspects of Pietra’s shenanigans with Thompson (Alley’s first acid trip is rendered as an endearingly handmade magical mystery tour) and his unconventional writing process. Not as inspirationally zany as, say, FLIRTING WITH DISASTER, the 1996 screwball romp Arquette co-starred in, but for an enticingly screwy first film, more than competent and not at all embarrassing. (7/10)