The Vancouver International Film Festival kicked into gear seven days ago and continues on for yet another week. They bill themselves as being “among the five largest film festivals in North America” (this is their 30th anniversary). The other four are not named, probably out of a desire to not offend anyone. Obvious front-runner destinations by chronology are Toronto (founded 1976), Seattle (also 1976), Montreal (1977), and Park City (established originally in Salt Lake City in 1978 and now known throughout as Sundance). To be fair, San Francisco can boast of the oldest “continuously running film festival in the Americas” (founded 1957), and NYC got their festival going six years later in 1963. Austin’s SXSW, which was founded in 1987 as music festival, qualifies as the upstart once they added the film component in 1994. (Telluride avoids the hoohah altogether by eschewing award ceremonies and not even trying to be large, focusing instead on curating a smaller selection of gems – so although not among “the largest” it certainly remains one of the most prestigious). My yearly pilgrimage to Telluride has always prevented me from attending Montreal and Toronto, but at the suggestion of a couple distributors (and unexpected help from a guardian angel) I’m leaving for Canada in two days to catch the last week of the VIFF. Dauntingly, they screen over 300 films – but here’s a peak at the first handful to catch my eye, offering a quick look at the tip of this cinematic Canadian iceberg.

The Loneliest Planet

This German film directed by Julia Loktev is based on a short story by Tom Bissell (Expensive Trips Nowhere) and features Han Furstenberg and Gael Garcia as Nica and Alex, a young couple backpacking through foreign countries. Program excerpt: “We move to a place beyond language reminiscent of Antonioni or the Van Sant of Gerry, where the stunning backdrops of the Georgian countryside transform from emblems of freedom to looming clouds of doom.” Sucker as I am for gorgeous exteriors, it had me at “stunning backdrops.” Also: it got good buzz from Toronto.

The Mirror Never Lies

A debut Indonesian feature, shot on 35mm, by Kamilia Andini – the daughter of Garin Nugrogo (Indonesia’s leading filmmaker). I was drawn in here by the description of the director’s diving experience in the Wakatobi archipelago. Program excerpt: “Andini does without melodrama and smartly concentrates on the day-to-day life of characters. Along the way she illuminates the region’s ecology and effectively argues that the Bajo way of life should be a model for Indonesia as a whole. And her film is stunningly beautiful.”

Dendera

This Japanese film by Tengan Daisuke (Imamura Shohei’s oldest son, here elaborating a premise expanded on by his father’s 1983 film The Ballad of Narayam) looks at a mountain community where “village law dictates that old people must die when they reach the age of 70.” The catch here is that there’s “a new settlement created by elderly women who have refused to die – and who don’t rescue the village’s old men.” Although already full of Logan’s Run-like potential and fun (if not maybe a bit of Cocoon), a marauding brown bear is brought in to seal the deal.

We Can’t Go Home Again

Nicholas Ray may forever be known as “the director of Rebel Without a Cause,” but the exiled Hollywood Legend was also a professor at Harpur College in Binghamton, New York, and it was there that he rotated students on the set of this film so that each “could gain a working knowledge of each position on a film crew and how each job related to every other.” Jonathan Rosenbaum describes this film as a “film (that) reeks of countercultural alienation and anguish, and when it premiered at Cannes in 1973, Ray spoke of trying to make ‘what in our minds is a Guernica‘ out of such materials as ‘a broken-down Bolex‘ … As a document of its time there’s nothing remotely like it.” We Can’t Go Home Again has long been out of circulation, but has recently been restored and here has its Canadian premiere.

Flirting with Heights

This French documentary by Jean-Michel Bertrand is the result of much patience. The director waited not just hours, days, or months to captures some of this footage, in some cases it even took years. He spent four years in the highest peaks of the Swiss Alps with the sole aim of capturing wildlife “without interference.” Program excerpt: ” Bertrand’s camerawork is exceptional, his patience monumental – three years alone to capture the images of the eyrie. Shots of trees in spring and autumn, of patterns in snow and of snowfall, of peaks at sunrise and sunset, in clear light and in mist, are the equal of the work of the most gifted artist.”

This is Not a Film

Iranian director Jafar Panaki was sentenced to a 20-year ban of making or directing any movies, writing any scripts, doing any interviews, or otherwise engaging with foreign media in any way. Also: he can’t leave his country. That sentence was handed down last December. So here we have something that is being labeled not “as a film,” but rather “an effort.” This “effort” is directed by Jafar Panahi and Mojtaba Mirtahmasb, and a program excerpt describes it as an “unimpeachable masterpiece of home-moviemaking” one that “is an absorbing, fascinating and slyly complex portrayal of the Iranian director at home, living his daily life, and delivering a master class on how to make a film without making a film.”

Planet Yoga

I normally avoid anything that smacks of being an infomercial for a cause – even ones I agree with. My reasoning is simple: films, specifically arthouse films, should be pioneers in both cinematic aesthetics and elevated narratives that truly transport us somewhere new. Of course, the rich realm of quality documentaries has been growing by leaps and bounds thanks to the many cheaper and accessible technologies that allow anyone to capture, edit, and ultimately put together an interesting package on just about any subject. As a result, it’s not unusual to now see documentaries occupy a third of the screens at any independent arthouse exhibitor’s venue. With Planet Yoga I sense a twofer: on one hand this is a native (Canadian) production, so it’s fresh out of the gate, on the other hand, this has guaranteed appeal to my customers back at the yoga-loving cradle by the Rocky Mountains in Boulder, Colorado. Program excerpt: “Director Carlos Ferrand undertakes a personal journey to discover the origins, chief practitioners and practical applications of this healing art… In our increasingly technological and secular age, yoga presents traditional spirituality without the baggage of retrograde oppression that has dated so much religion.”

Happy, Happy

A Norwegian comedy. That’s right. It’s Norwegian. And it’s a comedy. Why is this enough? Because when Norway committed the shameful act of banning Monty Python’s Life of Brian for blasphemy Sweden got away with marketing that same film as ” The film that is so funny that it was banned in Norway!” Ever since then, my fellow Norsky’s have been long overdue to compensate for their own gross injustice and show the world that they do, in fact, have a sense of humor. Here’s to hoping they can make partial restitution.

Looking further into the program what catches my eye, as an exhibitor, is the ease with which I can access the film contacts for each title being screened, the affordable ticket price (unlike other festivals that gouge you by charging two or three times the market rate for a normal film, here the prices are kept between $10 – 12 dollars), and how and exact format information is dutifully provided for each title – so I know if it’s being projected on HD-CAM, DCP, 35mm, and so forth (it’s amazing to me how many festivals try to hide this information from their customers). Also, I must add that it was nice to see that I could find decent lodging at a third of the rate that is charged at other film festival destinations. So far, the only downside would seem a forecast that calls for a lot of rain, but as we all know that’s actually perfect weather for watching movies all day.