jürgen fauth’s muckworld

Sicko is Michael Moore’s most mature work to date and almost certainly his best film. As Hillary Clinton found out the hard way, health care isn’t a particularly sexy topic, but with his usual populist’s touch, Moore has crafted a film that’s intellectually and emotionally gripping from start to finish. Without oversimplifying the complex issues involved, Moore deftly reduces the problem to its most basic elements: don’t we all have a responsibility to look after the weak and the sick? No less strident a polemic than Fahrenheit 911 or Bowling for Columbine, at heart, Sicko is a passionate plea for solidarity and compassion.

The rest of my review is up at About.com. Sicko opens today.

Sicko. Michael Moore, 2007. ****

After Twitch City, another outstanding TV show from Canada. Set at a provincial theater, Slings & Arrows is populated with all the stock types: the borderline-mad artistic director, the sell-out manager, the nosy American board member eager to put on Mamma Mia!, the aging diva, the budding ingénue (Rachel McAdams). Don McKellar makes an appearance as a hilarious conceptual artiste. Imbued by a snappy script with growing complexity and a rich back story, the characters are both hilarious and lovable at the same time. The Hamlet theme is elegantly woven through the entire season–director Geoffrey Tenant (Paul Gross) regularly chats with his predecessor’s ghost–and by the time opening night rolls around, all the actor jokes are redeemed by an honest-to-god glimpse at the magic of making theater. Remarkable.

Slings and Arrows, Season 1. Peter Wellington, 2003. ****

YouTube has what looks like entire seasons, cut up into ten-minute pieces. Here’s the opening of episode one:

Forget Six Feet Under: Molly Parker plays a necrophiliac embalmer in Lynne Stopkewich’s 1996 debut. She begins her career as a peculiar little girl who likes to bury birds and roadkill, and grows into a woman who likes her men cold. When Matt (Peter Outerbridge) falls hopelessly in love with her, the story is taken to its logical conclusion. It’s all handled very tastefully, lyrically even, but the denouement feels rushed.

Kissed. Lynne Stopkewich, 1996. ***

Most people seem to know Molly Parker from Deadwood, but to us she’ll always be the stripping drummer in that movie Paul Auster disowned. In this late nineties TV series set in a dinky Toronto apartment, she’s the hapless girlfriend of Curtis, a cereal-munching talk show addict shut-in played by Don McKellar, who also co-wrote the show. Twitch City undermines the wholesome Friends sitcom formula with a serious slacker attitude; the first episode revolves around who has to go out and buy the cat food. Curtis is refreshingly selfish and cynical, and much of the plot rests on the increasingly absurd parade of roommates who pass through, including a bunch of neo-Nazis, a sprawling Portuguese family, and a gang of criminals storing psychedelic cookies. In the midst of the satirical hip, there are flashes of real sweetness between Parker and McKellar. Like the Rex Reilly show Curtis tapes and rewatches compulsively, Twitch City is wicked addictive. All 13 episodes are out on DVD.

Twitch City. Bruce McDonald, ****

• Twitch City at Wikipedia
• Onion AV Club Review
• Top Ten Candian Films

Not as good as they’d have you believe. The interview bits with Cohen are terrific, but I could have stood to hear him sing some more songs. Instead, half the movie is taken up by a tribute concert with Nick Cave, Jarvis Cocker, Antony, the McGarrigle sisters, Beth Orton, Rufus Wainwright etc etc. Some of the covers are very good; some of them made me hide in the closet and wait for Marcy to give the all clear. These live sections are also poorly shot and directed — hell, I’ve made better concert videos than this. Bono and the Edge talk Cohen up like he’s a biblical prophet even though his lyrics and winning presence don’t need it. In the end they finally play a song with him.

Leonard Cohen: I’m Your Man. Lian Lunson, 2005. ***

• Rotten Tomatoes
• Official Site
• The trailer, and more Cohen videos

Sarah Polley’s first feature, an adaptation of an Alice Munro short story about a couple dealing with Alzheimer’s, is getting a lot of praise on the festival circuit, and she was appropriately celebrated at the premiere for MoMA’s Canadian Front program last night.

Julie Christie plays a woman in her sixties who finds herself putting pans into the freezer, and before you know it, her husband of 44 years (Gordon Pinsent) has to drive her to a home — where she soon forgets all about him and begins a touching/infuriating relationship with another patient instead. It’s well acted, of course, but the dialogue is a tad too “literary” for my taste, and Polley’s direction left me somewhat confused in the end. Still, it’s a story that rarely gets told–when was a last time you saw a tour of a nursing home as act-ending set piece? It’s goes without saying that it’s all terribly sad, even though there are a few flashes of humor. In a way, this is a movie not quite unlike Severance: Away From Her can be just as hard to take, and you really have to be in the mood for it. At the Q&A with Polley and Olympia Dukakis, it was nice to see that Polley can, in fact, smile.

Away from Her. Sarah Polley, 2006. ***

• Official site with trailer
• Wikipedia
• Away from Her on Rotten Tomatoes
• Away from Her on GreenCine: Sundance
• The Reeler has photos and quotes from last night’s screening
• Reverse Shot loved it
• YouTube Bonus:
  • Sweet Hereafter video of Sarah Polley singing “Courage”
  • Sarah Polley talks about Away from Her at the Berlinale