Sabbath Queen

Short

This morning, Marina has an appointment with Charlie to sell her a mattress. This evening, she will cancel her plane for Reunion. But they don't know that yet.

Short

A traditional Maritime image: three generations of P.E.I. women wash dishes after holiday dinners. Their after-dinner conversations become revealing when one of their own begins his transition.

Featurevirtual exclusive

This homage to Bollywood spectacle and intergenerational bonds is a time-hopping, candy-coloured crowd pleaser that induces huge smiles and big laughs while also tackling the resonant themes of enforced gender roles, passive racism, and the seismic shifts of growing up. Azra (a stunning Amrit Kaur) lives in cohabitating sexual bliss with her girlfriend in Toronto in the VHS-popping 90s when she receives news of her father’s death. One voltaic match cut later and she’s on a plane for the funeral in Pakistan with her brother (Ali A. Kazmi), where her mother (Ms. Marvel’s Nimra Bucha) nitpicks and her culture shuts her out of the mourning process. Then another and we’re in 1969 Karachi, swept up in the whirlwind romance of Azra’s rule-breaking mother (also played by Amrit Kaur, underscoring mother-daughter parallels) and dashing father (Hamza Haq) before their tough transition to 1989 Nova Scotia. Each temporal hop peeling back another layer of how Azra’s family dynamic came to be. The Queen of My Dreams is itself a moviegoer’s dream, chock-full of eye-popping visuals, high production value, and fantastic fashion. Revealing how salvation can come in unlikely ways from unlikely sources.

Documentary

Spoiler alert: chances are if you were watching television in spring 2016, you witnessed the startling peak of the Bury Your Gays trope. LGBTQ+ females from Buffy’s Tara to The 100’s Lexa have gotten the axe and this wry exposé investigates the dismaying trend and ensuing sea change. Bouncing back and forth from Toronto to culture hubs like L.A. and London, Bulletproof unfolds like the plot of a great mystery. There are the victims: queer female characters. The murderers: harried television writers, showrunners, and producers who, for a myriad of reasons that the doc unpacks, have chosen to kill off fan-favourites. And then there are the detectives: a “rainbow network” of journalists, media psychologists, fan community leaders, and many more who dissect the catalysts and impacts of shifting queer depictions. Not to mention the documentarian themself, “gay as hell” TV junkie Regan Latimer on year six of what was supposed to be a one year project, uncovering personal, societal, and scientific revelations alongside their wise-cracking on-screen surrogate, Lindy Zucker. Through clever references and animation, Bulletproof proves that representation has life-or-death stakes and fantasy can be as essential as reality.

Feature

Jorge is tousled and handsome, seemingly carefree, shouldering changes with cheerful resignation. But after his sudden death, his young mother and best friend, Carmen, is left grief-stricken, forced to reckon with the veracity of her son’s life, including his two lovers—one female, one male—left wondering why he’s ghosted them. At first, Carmen (Ludwika Paleta) refuses all comforts in the wake of her son’s death, cared for, despite her protests, by her kindly queer brother (Darío Rocas). Then, she goes digging. According to Jorge’s estranged father (Luis Velazquez), Jorge (Nicolás Haza) was depressed shortly before he drowned in the sea. Is this true—if so, why? And is this enough to prove his death was intentional? The search for answers will acquaint Carmen with Jorge’s jilted girlfriend (Adriana Palafox) and lovesick boyfriend (Alan Oliva), and reconcile her with a passion for music that hounds her even when she tries to leave it behind. In this expertly crafted tearjerker, writer-director Sofía Gómez-Córdova uses seamless flashbacks and home videos of happier times to reveal who the characters were. And Ludwika Paleta’s blistering performance-of-a-lifetime shows us who Carmen may be in the Thereafter.

Featurevirtual exclusive

Inspired by true events, in 1970 an unorthodox mother sends her offbeat son from New Brunswick on a wintry cross-country mission past Quebec to retrieve his brother from Toronto after a public sex violation. Antics ensue in the Two-Solitudes atmosphere, bursting with revealing humour about brotherly love and French-English relations. In bravura performances, Alan Cumming plays motormouth Perley—dressed in an ushanka and ascot, taxidermied dog tucked under his arm—and Charlie Creed-Miles is Weldon—a gruff stoic in crooked glasses. These oddball siblings travel through frozen nights and across the language divide as they bicker, break down, and ultimately bond in their journey through central and eastern Canada. Weldon forced to confront the reality of Perley’s homosexuality (and his abject fear of being required to speak French) as he processes a horrific event from their past. After a lifetime of shutting down, a new set of dire circumstances has them opening their ears to hear one another’s stories. Award-winning filmmaker Michael Clowater, a master of wringing humour from pain, never loses sight of Perley and Weldon’s essential humanity among the pratfalls and bigotries, embedding beautiful truths in the film’s engrossing frictions.

Short

One afternoon, three high school students sneak out of their all-girls Catholic boarding school. Sunny, the new girl, has gone for a swim in the river. Sarah is eager to join her, even though Clémence disapproves.

Featurevirtual exclusive

FINNISH • FRENCH ST | A 15-year-old Finnish girl—and her older incarnation—ponder the resemblance between first love and nuclear explosions under a sky heavy with Chernobyl clouds. Befriending a loner who seems radioactive to others, Mariia tries to keep their connection from melting down, basking in the light of devotion, however blinding. By-the-book Mariia (played at different ages by Rebekka Baer and Laura Birn) comes from a close-knit but struggling household, her mother affected by a mysterious cancer. Her situation is contrasted with that of self-possessed Mimi (Anni Iikkanen), whose home is blighted by alcoholism and neglect, its wallpaper peeling. But, swimming beneath crystalline surfaces and entwined in one another’s arms, they try to drown out the ills of the world. Crimped hair and oversized sweaters capturing the innocent 80s bubble Mariia thrives in and the euphoria Mimi strives to inhabit, despite the heaviness of experience. Guided by its source material, the 2011 novel by Vilja-Tuulia Huotarinen, and inflected with the shifting haze of ennui and energy that is a hallmark of Sofia Coppola’s star-dusted tragedies, Inari Niemi’s film is a tonally precise mood piece about girlhood in all its ominous, scintillating paradoxes.

Feature

SPANISH • FRENCH ST | Argentinian filmmaker Matías is an intense perfectionist struggling to shape his autobiographical film as the past wriggles from his grip. Is Alexander—a dashing fabulist from Sweden he met in Italy as a boy—the lost love of his life? Or just a lovely, bittersweet dream? At the United World College of the Adriatic, with its diverse, exuberant student body, young Matías (Santiago Madrussan) finds a freedom he never knew in Argentina. There, he is befriended by Alexander (Oscar Morgan), whose rousing stories and bedroom eyes make the world more magical, and whose family’s vast holiday home becomes a memory palace for all that was left unsaid. In his 40s, Matías (co-writer/director Juan Pablo Di Pace) looks back at this time and, with a festival deadline looming, tries to fathom the sizzling closeness and coded interactions. A key piece of evidence lying dormant for when he least expects it. With its meta intrigues and captivating sweep, Duino is an elegiac masterwork crackling with swoon-worthy chemistry. A film that asks: how far are we willing to go for a proper conclusion, and what, in the end, remains voices in the wind?

Feature

After Nino shows Iva the ropes, the two cable car drivers woo one another in increasingly ingenious ways. Day after day, the young women pass high above a quiet Georgian valley twisted with mist, cherishing each moment of connection. But when sweetness slides into sensuality, where will it send them? A man has died, his coffin carted above the village, and Iva (Mathilde Irrmann) inherits his crooked home and high-flying occupation. At first, villagers treat her with an enigmatic disdain, and she spends her days transporting customers and goods back and forth in disquiet, stealing glances at Nino (Nini Soselia). The flirtation grows as intense as their ongoing chess game, set to the rhythm of the rusted gears and their little kindnesses. Together, they will take on a surly widow (Niara Chichinadze) and lecherous boss (Zuka Papuashvili) as their courtship reaches new heights. Auteur Veit Helmer’s Gondola has the raw intensity of silent cinema and the enchanting whimsy of Amélie. Impelled by its beguiling leads and breathtaking cinematography, the film is a love letter to the countryside and those who live there, and an invitation to let your heart soar.