Shadan’s TIFF Diary Part V: Docs, ‘Dicks’ and a Final Goodbye to TIFF 2023

We’ve come to my final TIFF recap of 2023, where I cover documentaries and the last of the 42 titles I saw while in Toronto.

The concurrent SAG and WGA strikes meant that I don’t have many fun star sightings to tell you about, although I was seated behind Guy Pearse during Lee and overheard him tell a friend how much he wished Kate Winslet could be there to see the world premiere. And yes, I did send a few giddy texts to my mom about Tony Goldwyn showing up to introduce Ezra.

But I don’t need a bunch of A-listers in order to have a great festival experience. In fact, the lack of celebrities meant that greater attention could be paid to the filmmakers and the films themselves. The passion and excitement that the likes of Ava DuVernay, Cord Jefferson, and Alexander Payne had when introducing their films served as a pleasant and necessary reminder that amidst all the awards talk and think pieces, we are all just a bunch of creative people who are all, at our core, serious movie nerds.

I feel so grateful to have had this experience. To see so many films—Origin, The Beast, Anatomy of Fall, Monster, and many more that I know will become long-time favorites. Thank you, TIFF, for another incredible festival. My countdown to next year has already begun!

Dicks: The Musical:

I stupidly forgot to include Dicks: The Musical in my comedy recap. Believe me, “Dicks” more than delivers the laughs, and the music has no business being this catchy. A pair of long-lost twins (co-writers Aaron Jackson and Josh Sharp) attempt to Parent Trap their mom and dad (Megan Mullally and Nathan Lane) back together. The plot is of little consequence here; it’s the sheer outrageousness of it all that makes Dicks: The Musical so spectacular. There are sewer boys, talking vaginas, and a Megan Thee Stallion showdown, all culminating in a sex montage that makes Deadpool’s seem tame in comparison. Everyone involved is fully committed to making the weirdest movie possible, and the result is a pure delight. There are so many surprises and WTF moments; half the fun is just waiting to see what happens next.

In a festival lineup where most stretched unnecessarily beyond the 2-hour mark, Dicks: The Musical’s 86 minutes flew by. I wanted more. And if you’re a fan of director Larry Charles and his Borat-Curb Your Enthusiasm brand of humor, you will be too.

Expats:

TIFF has joined a growing number of film festivals in adding some prestige TV titles to their lineup. The only TV program I was able to catch was Lulu Wang’s Expats. Based on its strengths, I’m very interested to see what else the TIFF programming team gravitates toward in the future.

The limited series, starring Nicole Kidman, follows a group of wealthy Americans living in Hong Kong. As the show moves back and forth in time and through a number of different perspectives, we see how a family tragedy has rocked this close-knit community.

Normally, when festivals showcase TV, they start with the first episode. Wang brought Expats’ feature-length, penultimate episode to TIFF, which takes us inside the inner lives of the nannies and hidden “hired help.” It took me a minute to find my footing with Expats. The show is juggling quite a few characters. But a word I keep coming back to in these diaries is empathy, and Wang does a beautiful job pulling back the designer curtain and giving each perspective space to breathe and take hold. Kidman may be the A-list draw, but in this standalone episode, her co-stars were more buzzworthy, with Sarayu Blue being my favorite.

Expats are so much more than glorified rich people’s problems. There are many moments in Expats that I keep coming back to, exchanges that made me confront my own privilege and assumptions. It’s just a shame the Amazon series won’t be released until 2024. If this one episode is any indication, Expats will be worth the wait.

Sorry/Not Sorry:

Sorry/Not Sorry examines the rise, fall, and resurgence of comedian Louis C.K.. I knew about C.K.’s career and the sexual misconduct allegations that got him “canceled.” What I was most interested in was Sorry/Not Sorry’s promise to look at how C.K.’s return impacted his accusers.

The documentary from Caroline Suh and Cara Mones features interviews with several women who have spoken out against C.K.; their testimonies make up the most compelling aspects of Sorry/Not Sorry. I just wish the film spent less time revisiting C.K.’s career and more time grappling with C.K.’s comeback and what it meant for these women.

Your relationship with cancel culture will determine how you feel about Sorry/Not Sorry and which aspects will infuriate you the most. I left defeated, knowing that even in a post-Me Too world, a man like Louis C.K. can rebound his career without much consequence.

Stamped from the Beginning: 

Oscar winner Roger Ross Williams has carved out a niche for himself, producing and directing stellar adaptations of non-fiction heavyweights like Hulu’s The 1619 Project and Max’s Between the World and Me. His name attached is all I needed to sell me on Netflix’s Stamped from the Beginning, adapted from Ibram X. Kendi’s book of the same name.

Stamped from the Beginning starts with a provocative question—”What’s wrong with Black people?” The documentary examines the root of anti-Black racist ideas in American history and how that discrimination reverberates in society today.

Stamped from the Beginning doesn’t stray from its source material, but it does adapt those ideas in a very visually compelling and dynamic way. Kendi is an excellent narrator, and “Stamped” utilizes its talking heads very well, throwing in archival footage and animated sequences that help the film keep a brisk pace. It’s well-researched, informative, and, despite the difficult subject matter, an “easy” watch. Stamped from the Beginning never feels like homework but rather an intelligent, provocative, and much-needed history lesson.

Be on the lookout for Stamped from the Beginning on Netflix on November 15th.

Swan Song:

Swan Song is perhaps the crown jewel of my TIFF experience in that it is very niche and very Canadian. Chelsea McMullan’s documentary goes inside the National Ballet of Canada’s 2022 production of Swan Lake, choreographed by former Swan queen legend Karen Kain.

Kain is set to retire as artistic director of the ballet and is looking to stage a modern take on Swan Lake as her final bow—if only her own high standards and stubbornness don’t get in the way. The documentary also focuses on principal dancer Jurgita Dronina, fresh-faced company dancers Shaelynn Estrada and Tene Ward, as well as other key members of the production.

If you are a fan of the ballet-like I am, or even if you just really liked Black Swan, Swan Song has something to offer you. The personalities are interesting; throw in complex backstories, challenges, ego, and a pulsing hunger to be the best, and you’ve got some very interesting documentary subjects. I also loved the costumes and the obsessing over details, which I never fully appreciated before as a spectator. My joints ached just watching the grueling practices. My only complaint is that I would have liked to see more footage from the completed production. For now, I am desperately seeking Swan Lake tickets.

Reptile:

A young relator is found dead, and everyone in her orbit is soon a suspect. Benicio Del Toro elevates the material at hand as the police detective on the case, Justin Timberlake is believable as the slimy boyfriend, and Alicia Silverstone is a very welcome presence. Grant Singer’s take on the police procedural is perfectly fine and by-the-book. There are some twists you see coming and some you don’t. I’m not overly enthusiastic about Reptile, but it’s engaging enough for a Friday night at home. Look for Reptile on Netflix on October 6th.

Wildcat: 

Another TIFF title that failed to impress is Ethan Hawke’s Wildcat. The premise is so intriguing, juxtaposing the life of Flannery O’Connor (Maya Hawke) while recreating her most famous works. I’ll all for a movie that celebrates an artist without taking the typical biopic approach, and I particularly like the dreamlike way the film moves in and out of O’Connor’s life and work.

Wildcat is also a fantastic showcase for Maya Hawke, who plays both O’Connor and the heroines in her stories. These multiple characters allow Hawke to display a range I didn’t know she had. She makes a proper case for herself as a star with major potential. Laura Linney is great as O’Connor’s mother, and I loved Hawke’s decision to use the same cast in multiple roles.

Steve Cosens’ cinematography is also worthy of praise; the use of color is particularly striking.

Despite the presence of multiple inventive elements, Wildcat never comes together in a way that captures your attention. There are moments of interest, but what follows doesn’t build upon it properly. Wildcat feels more like an exercise in creativity rather than a fully cohesive film. It’s a good idea not executed particularly well. With that said, consider me now an even bigger fan of the entire Hawke family.

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If you’ve made it to the end of this piece, thank you. Thank you for taking the time to read and engage with my writing and TIFF experience. I hope you’ll consider these films as we move into awards season and beyond. A massive thank you to TIFF for the opportunity to attend and to Sasha and the incredible team at Awards Daily. My biggest thank you to my mom, the best cheerleader, part-time editor, and friend I could hope for. And to my sweetest Khaleh Farangis and cousin Roksana, thank you for giving me a place to stay, for making Toronto feel like home, and for making this big dream of mine an unforgettable reality. It is with immense gratitude that I say goodbye to TIFF 2023. -Shadan