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["Toronto Film Festival diaries" is a series of daily updates on screenings at the 2011 Toronto International Film Festival. For fast reactions and more follow Metromix's Geoff Berkshire on Twitter.]
We're still at the point where a handful of films from female directors counts as a "trend" and that was definitely the case in Toronto this year. But there was another trend inside the trend: many of the female-helmed films, including Tanya Wexler's "Hysteria," dealt with women exploring or discovering their independence, especially sexually. "Hysteria" turns the subject into the stuff of historical comedy, inviting viewers back to the Victorian era for a look at what led to the invention of the vibrator.
Hugh Dancy stars as progressive and idealistic young doctor Mortimer Granville, who finds himself on the fringe of the medical establishment for his belief in "germ theory" (that is, that germs make people sick). He's taken in by Dr. Dalrymple (Jonathan Pryce), a stuffy and successful specialist in cases of female hysteria—an old-fashioned diagnosis for a whole range of frustrations and "troubling" behavior. Dalrymple's treatment involves helping patients achieve "paroxysm" (orgasm) through "pelvic massage" (doctors manually stimulating the patient's genitals). As salacious as it sounds, the film plays these scenes strictly for R-rated laughs and never X-rated visuals. The humor comes from the purely scientific execution of the treatment, handled with the utmost decorum and a complete lack of sexual acknowledgment. For the doctors, a job well done means a less hysterical woman, no more and no less.
Granville's belief in his work is shaken by Dalrymple's two very different daughters—prim and proper young Emily (Felicity Jones), who happily courts Granville because that's what her father wants, and the older and more rebellious Charlotte (Maggie Gyllenhaal), whose belief in women's rights and helping the poor causes her to dismiss her father's lucrative business assisting sexually frustrated upper class women as "frivolous." One of these sisters is the true perfect match for Granville, and it's never a question which one, at least not to the audience.
There's nothing very surprising about the way "Hysteria" develops, it's a silly romance with a positive message about freedom of the mind and body, and the characters are basically clichés. Fortunately, the casting is so spot-on it's easy enough to go with the flow. Rupert Everett returns to ace scene-stealing mode with a succession of dry one-liners as Granville's pal who plays a key role in the vibrator's invention (an event that doesn't occur until over halfway through the action), while Sheridan Smith as a frisky former prostitute and an underused Ashley Jensen as one of Charlotte's charity cases add welcome support. But the film's success springs from its cheerfully winking tone (which might have played more condescending if the film didn't respect its characters so much) and credibly sweet chemistry between Dancy and Gyllenhaal (adding another believable Brit role to her resume following "Nanny McPhee Returns"). "Hysteria" doesn't amount to much more than sex comedy suitable for "Masterpiece Theater," but the gimmick proves more charming than one might expect.
One of the standouts of Toronto's Midnight Madness section, "You're Next" isn't exactly charming but its energetic and intense approach to the frequently trashy slasher genre is remarkably exhilarating. Opening with the slaughter of a random couple (schlubby indie horror maven Larry Fessenden and much younger Kate Lyn Sheil in a role low on screen time and high on gratuitous nudity), director Adam Wingard and writer Simon Barrett (collaborators on little seen experimental horror pic "A Horrible Way to Die") immediately introduce the members of a large family gathering together for their first reunion in years.
Mom (Barbara Crampton) and Dad (Rob Moran) arrive at the remote vacation home first, cruising by the house from the opening sequence with no idea what happened inside. They're followed by their oldest son, college professor Crispian (AJ Bowen) and his former student-turned-girlfriend Erin (Sharni Vinson), and then another son, Drake (Joe Swanberg) and his wife Kelly (Margaret Laney). While Crispian and Drake instantly revive a long-running rivalry, the reunion is completed by sole daughter Aimee (Amy Seimetz) and her new boyfriend Tariq (Ti West) and youngest son Felix (Nicholas Tucci) and his punkish girlfriend Zee (Wendy Glenn). That's ten main characters for the film to juggle, but the number doesn't stay so high for long—as soon the family sits down to dinner, people start getting killed by a mysterious band of home invaders in creepy animal masks.
The motivation behind the attacks remains a mystery for much of the film, but the focus of the action narrows in on Erin, whose savvy survival skills surprise everyone. She calmly and methodically takes control, doing what she can to keep her boyfriend and his fast-dwindling family alive. The role turns out to be a complete gift to Vinson, an Australian actress who previously made a rather flat impression in the relentlessly cheesy "Step Up 3D," only to emerge here as one of the great heroines in horror history. Erin's mental and physical agility provides most of the film's rooting interest—you'll literally want to cheer every time she outsmarts an attacker.
As you might expect, "You're Next" is a very bloody movie, but the filmmakers don't dwell on or exploit the gore (some murders even happen offscreen!), preferring instead to maximize tension at every turn and find darkly funny moments to compliment the suspense. An over reliance on shaky cam photography, especially in early stretches, is the only blemish on an otherwise impeccably crafted low budget thriller complete with a distinctively creepy musical score, razor-sharp editing and above average performances. It's horror done right.
"The Awakening" also aims to do right by the horror genre, with a classy period ghost story reminiscent of relatively recent successes "The Others" and "The Orphanage." Unfortunately, British TV director Nick Murphy's approach doesn't live up to those predecessors or the festival's own competing psychological horror offering "Intruders."
One of the most promising elements of "Awakening" is a lead role for actress-on-the-rise Rebecca Hall ("Vicky Christina Barcelona," "The Town") who stars as strong-willed Florence Cathcart, a professional ghost-debunker in post-WWI U.K. She's brought to a boys boarding school reputedly the sight of a child murder years earlier and allegedly haunted by the spirit of that child. Of course, this haunting proves unexpectedly difficult to refute, especially when Florence starts seeing the ghost herself and gets drawn further into the mystery.
Dominic West and Imelda Staunton co-star as a teacher and house matron respectively, but the cast's collective skills are only used to bolster a rather ho-hum thriller that plods along more than it packs a punch. There's some genuinely spooky business with a dollhouse, and Hall is an effective leading lady though her mostly colorless character isn't much of a challenge. Despite the classy craftsmanship and a few scares here and there, "The Awakening" won't keep you up all night.
The final film I saw at the festival, South African director Darrell Roodt's TV-style bio-pic "Winnie," didn't exactly end things on a high note. Presented in a low-resolution and somewhat unfinished form (an opening title card noted picture and sound were not final), this simplistic examination of a rather complicated woman stars Oscar-winner Jennifer Hudson as Winnie Mandela and Oscar-nominee Terrence Howard as her husband Nelson Mandela. Both actors do what they can in a film that stubbornly refuses to engage with its subjects beyond superficially skimming through major moments in their lives. They don't get much support from the rest of the cast (the only other notable names being Canadian actors Elias Koteas—terrible as a cartoonishly rendered villain—and Wendy Crewson—fine but forgettable as a sympathetic ally to Winnie).
Roodt and co-writer Andre Pieterse structure the film as a look at Winnie's life with a special focus on her relationship with Nelson, who was imprisoned for much of their marriage. But Winnie's interior world never comes into focus, complicated by her controversial actions later in life that ultimately led to a split with her husband. The film can't decide if Nelson felt personally betrayed by Winnie's increasingly aggressive stance in the fight against Apartheid, or if their divorce was politically motivated—and that's only one of several intriguingly murky areas badly bungled by a decidedly unenlightening approach that favors flashy wardrobe over perceptive observations.
The lack of nuance and depth in the filmmaking—full of sweeping shots of cinematic vistas and an excessively syrupy musical score—hampers the performances. Some may expect Hudson to fall flat with such blatantly self-serious material but she again demonstrates natural charisma and assertiveness, balancing the demands of a South African accent with the burden of a flatly conceived character alternately portrayed as saintly and manipulative. Howard comes off more unintentionally comical with his heavier accent and halting delivery, and he gets the worst of the film's unbelievably bad makeup work as the years pass, but still seems entirely professional under the circumstances. A second-rate cable movie at best, "Winnie" is the sort of grand filmmaking folly best described as a turkey.
Check out the Metromix picks for Best of the 2011 Toronto Film Festival
Check out the full collection of 2011 Toronto Film Festival diaries.
