Halloween Treats: Argento's "Deep Red"

by Nick Taylor

If a true cinephile has opened their third eye, they know the best time to watch horror movies is whenever they want, without the pretext of a Halloween or some such ritual to pop in a scary story. But we can never take Halloween’s power for granted, and to offer fealty to all the ghosts and ghouls haunting The Film Experience, I come with tales of scary movies past (and present??). Our first offering is Dario Argento’s Deep Red, a paragon of giallo cinema.

If you choose to read on, join me under the cut... just mind the entrance wound on your way in...

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TIFF '24: For the Dead and the Dying and Those Left Behind

by Cláudio Alves

Vincent Cassel and Guy pearce in David Cronenberg's THE SHROUDS.

All of us are on a long journey into death, set on a collision course with the great end that nothing can entirely prevent and no one can avoid forever. Artists are no different, mere mortals like the rest of us. However, the nature of their work means those persons' relationship with our collective finality may take unexpected forms, many of them public. Whether a creator wants it or not, when the finish line comes into conscious sight, their creation shall reflect it. Mortality subsumes the art, even when buried deep within layers of escapism, deflection, and delusion. The brave ones disregard such distractions and stare at the monster head-on. For them, late style is a cinema of death.

Consider the most recent works from two of our greatest masters – David Cronenberg and Paul Schrader. The Shrouds and Oh, Canada are meditations on mortality, made for the dead and dying and, most importantly, those left behind, waiting for their own end…

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TIFF '24: Kiyoshi Kurosawa delivers a new nightmare in "Cloud"

by Cláudio Alves

CLOUD

What if, one day, you realized everyone in the world hates you? What's more, everyone wants you dead. That's the sort of situation you might expect to encounter in the world of dreams and night terrors, one's innermost anxieties synthesized for a restless slumber. It's also the nightmarish scenario Kiyoshi Kurosawa suggests in his latest shocker, a work of stress cinema supreme with many surprises in store, playing like a descent into hell. It's also Japan's official submission for the Best International Film Oscar race, as bizarre as that might seem. It's a bold choice, alright. Maybe not the best from a strategic standpoint, but a true celebration of Japanese film excellence. 

And one thing's for sure – there's no other director like Kiyoshi Kurosawa out there, and no film like Cloud either…

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The first Best International Film submissions are here!

by Cláudio Alves

THE DEVIL'S BATH (2024) Veronika Franz & Severin Fiala
And just like that, we're off to the races. Though the 97th Academy Awards are still half a year away, the deadline for countries to submit titles for the Best International Film category is much closer. Nations have until October 4th to choose their representative feature, which must have enjoyed a minimum seven-day theatrical release before the September 30th deadline. Considering those timeframes, it's expected that the next few months will be full of submission news as the world prepares for a cinematic Olympics of sorts. This year, Ireland and Austria are the first countries to announce their official Oscar contenders…

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Late But Not Forgotten: Shelley Duvall (1949-2024)

by Cláudio Alves

Shelley Duvall behind the scenes of her last film, THE FOREST HILLS (2023).
First of all, preemptive apologies for the solipsism. 

For the past few weeks, I've been struggling with a mounting number of celebrity deaths, each deserving of a tribute. Yet, with every single one comes the need for research, and then, when I think I'll be able to write a good obituary, another loss hits. For a while, I considered doing a giant post, built from essential information on each dear departed artist. It wouldn't be akin to that extensive Donald Sutherland homage - to give an example - but it'd be something. Still, the work dragged on, the pressure mounted, and the delay was reaching absurd proportion. I can only say sorry, dear reader. 

This past Wednesday, as I celebrated my 30th birthday, such affairs still haunted me. And maybe because I was surrounded by friends, basking in sincere affection, perchance a self-pitying reflection or two on the passage of time and getting older, a new approach materialized. Instead of trying to encapsulate a world-class artist's entire history in a write-up, I shall instead ponder what they mean to me personally. Earnestness is the way to go, and hopefully, you'll share what these people mean to you in the comments, too. These pieces will be relatively brief but heartfelt, and they'll start with a star I loved like few others – the inimitable Shelley Duvall…

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