Okay, so I had a good day skiing, even though near the end of it, the wind chill at the top of the mountain was dipping close to -30C. The sun was brilliant, the sky was Presbyterian Blue, the snow was crisp but beautifully ski-able. However skiing is often a personal thing…hard to share, unless you’re there… so I won’t even try.

I ended the day with a question, nevertheless…

Q #1
Why do I join Film Clubs, especially those that show foreign movies often with sub-titles? What is it that keeps me going back to an old theatre (in a little village) known more for its excellent popcorn than the comfort of its seats?

Well tonight that’s a good question. The film was MIA MADRE. You can google it if you wish but if the info is as scanty as the promotional material we received at the club, you may be no wiser. Nevertheless that should not discourage you…in retrospect, it wouldn’t have stopped me — in fact, in reality it didn’t stop me. So let me tell you about it, while I listen to Glenn Yarbrough’s beautifully crafted album Bend Down and Touch Me!

Evening started off well — my very close friend Sandy accompanied me so we had to leave for the village early as we knew of a delightful East Indian restaurant there, right across the street from the theatre, and by having dinner there before the show we would get an excellent parking space in addition to superb food. As predicted, we found a parking spot right in front of the restaurant; furthermore, the food and drink was up to the usual standard and was accompanied by invigorating conversation. Afterwards we walked across the street to the theatre and for dessert we had some of the aforementioned popcorn and settled in for the viewing.

This film can only be described as an experience. The director of the film also stars in it as (wait for it) a director of a film. Not sure how many directors you may have known — while I have produced only a couple major documentaries, I have met a few directors and most are relatively normal artistic types. They have their quirks, but then we all do. But this director didn’t have quirks, she had anxieties… actually she was a walking advertisement for anxiety-overload!! Maybe it was because the film was Italian with cooperation from France that I thought it might tend to stress romance and a sense of bon vivance more than angst and confusion. But obviously I then am guilty of stereotyping although I’ve seen enough Felini in my life to know that Italians are not all fun and games even if they produce some superb cars, most of which I can’t get into or if I can, I can’t extricate myself from. But I digress — you know that I prefer German (mainly for their form follows function philosophy and incredibly great driving capabilities)…

The story revolves around three components in the director’s life (or maybe I should say, lives):
* the film she is trying to make about labour strife in a factory, using an American-Italian in the lead role (throughout the film I kept trying to figure out who he was and where I’d last seen him act — he is good)
* her mother who is in her final weeks of life
* her fairly normal daughter (who lives with her father) who is struggling at her studies because she is having to take Latin of which her Grandma was was an excellent teacher

When we are taken onto the set of the film we not only learn a good deal about the convoluted difficulties surrounding the actual making of a movie, but we also witness some very funny scenes — especially when the lead actor either forgets his Italian lines or can’t seem to get the acting nuances correct. There were times he’s slip into English and the sub-titles would carry on in English as well. One couldn’t be sure whether this was another misstep or simply an attempt at humour — either way, it did turn out to be funny. On the more serious side, the director often allowed her concerns about her dying mother to get in the way of serious concentration on giving direction. To watch the myriads of people working at the various technical tasks try to keep in the moment, and keep the director in the moment, was an excellent study in dysfunctional leadership and/or group dynamics. And then again, sometimes in the midst of seriousness a funny moment would just break out.

Her brother, who was on leave from a job that it seemed he no longer enjoyed, was an island of stability in the worlds of the director and showed me that sometimes when we want to be most creative it really helps to have a rock nearby who will not simply help keep us grounded, but also laugh with us and when necessary. will actually take some of the control in the moment. I enjoyed the film most when he was in a scene — good actor who could deliver lines convincingly with great credibility.

The scenes with the mother were occasionally filled with tinges of humour, especially when the Granddaughter was part of the conversation, but most of the time it was fairly dark. I guess it reminded me of a couple of the Latin teachers I had in high school as the woman looked as if she could have dated Julius Caesar himself. It was a little too obvious that she was dying; in fact, early on the doctor said as much. As a result there were crises rolling in and out of the narrative, and it almost became painful wondering if the next scene would be it. I began to empathize with the director and her angst as I was almost hoping that someone would euthanize her and get it over with. When she finally died, the film ended which was somewhat abrupt because the film that the director was making did not appear to be finished. So I’m not sure that the director fully exorcised her demons, even though she seemed to be getting along with her lead actor and was having more fun with her daughter.

So the film ended a little quickly — would I go to see a sequel? No. This was enough. I don’t mind knowing that there is a director out there that still may be having difficult getting her picture completed. She took a couple hours of my time, but I don’t feel short-changed. I’d like to finally have a cathartic moment and figure out who that male lead is and where I saw him last in a film; but that can be something I ponder as I ski down the runs at Apex — in between my renditions of Wise Men Say Only Fools Rush In or Somewhere Over the Rainbow — both sung to help keep my turns in synch. And the film did generate some conversation on the ride back, although the moon was so bright we tended to concentrate on the incredible mountain images to the west of the highway, illuminated as they were with pale white light on white snow and dark trees.

So if MIA MADRE comes to a cinema festival or a film club near you any time soon, and you have a couple of hours to spare, go see it… maybe you can enlighten me a bit more. But if you have to choose between this and seeing Nabucco, then go to the Opera.

I had a good day today. I hope you did too. Life is good, especially when you can ski before you go to a foreign flick…and you can enjoy a beer or two in the midst of it all!!

g.w.

p.s.
I think I figured it out — he was the guy in the Robert Redford directed Quiz Show who first went on a winning streak — the shmuck from Brooklyn who they dropped in favour of a WASP…