The short side of this year’s Toronto International Film Festival makes a big creative leap on the non-fiction front. Few documentaries within the Short Cuts programming tread convention, while many of the films blur the line between fiction and nonfiction to creatively embrace the porousness of storytelling that draws from lived experiences.
Perhaps the most pleasant discovery of the shorts is a film that ingeniously finds itself at the centre of a collision between mockumentary and cinéma vérité. In Between Late April and Early May (Short Cuts 2), Sophia Smith drolly observes the melee that careens into Toronto’s High Park annually with the arrival of the cherry blossoms. The oft-moving camera observes the happenstance that unfolds before and around a prime selfie spot. A pregnant couple poses for the ‘gram, eager to share news of their own blossom. However, another expecting couple grumbles impatiently as they wait for the lush tree to be free. All the while, the camera’s gaze wanders around the park. Smith soaks up the everyday humour that transpires as other Torontonians enjoy the blossoms completely oblivious to their surroundings. Sometimes the funniest material is background action plucked from everyday life.
The power of the quotidian fuels Under the Same Clouds (Short Cuts 3), Jérémi Roy’s tender autofiction tale of his parents in rural Quebec. The snowy scenery contrasts lovingly with the cherry blossoms of Smith’s film as the elderly couple enjoys their daily routine with no need to post photos of their breakfast or morning walk for all the internet to see. In sharing this touching slice of their lives with audiences, however, they impart sage wisdom about slowing down and savoring each moment.
Stories of family ties fuel Mariia Ponomarova’s Patronymic (Short Cuts 3), a wonderfully original tribute to family ties and the power of national identity. The Ukrainian filmmaker considers the absence of her patronymic, or a family-coded middle name that marks her as her father’s daughter, from her passport. Sifting through passports, documents, film festival passes, and other personal artifacts, Ponomarova observes how much of her identity has been defined by bureaucracy and the invasiveness of Russia’s might on her sense of self. Patronymic offers a dazzlingly defiant quest as Ponomarova doggedly tries to get her passport amended and takes pride in the name long denied her. The filmmaker reclaims it with a dash of celebratory humour as she and fellow Ukrainians pay tribute to their patronymics through song.
A sense of community and an affinity for historical memory passed down through generations is at the heart of Peacocks Come with the Clouds (Wavelengths) from Iranian-Canadian filmmaker Parastoo Anoushahpour. This slice of life portrait years in the making observes daily life for kids in Kurdish villages along the Iran and Turkmenistan border. Sparse and understated, the film takes in aspects of work and play, sometimes blurring the two, as kids in the region keep their hands busy by learning traditional beadwork. The film unfolds poetically as Anoushahpour offers unfiltered glimpses of the quotidian, enveloping audiences in the quiet and calming charm of the land and its people.
There’s a fine eye for sociology, too in Beans and Belief (Short Cuts 4). This observational hybrid film by Tenzin Sedon follows a Tibetan merchant as he and his wife make a living seeking black beans. They rinse and cook the beans, offer the first serving to the gods, and then make the rounds peddling hot portions of their grub. The husband slowly walks through the village, intersecting with daily life in tea shops and markets much like Between Late April and Early May encounters selfie seekers in the park. The merchant’s refrain of “fresh black beans” echoes the monastic chanting that bookends the film, situating a simple way of life within a lifetime of tradition in a changing world.
Another autofiction slice of the working life arrives in Pacific Spirit (Short Cuts 6), Antoine Bourges’ captivating jaunt through the old growth trees of the Pacific Northwest. Two students walk through the forest and bring to life the field notes for a photography class assignment. The film bridges the line between still life and moving pictures as the camera languidly observes the beautiful trees and their verdant surroundings, particularly when an enigmatic longtake shrouds the field written in disquieting stillness. The film marks an evocative continuation of Bourges’ work that creates fresh terrain in hybrid cinema. It’s especially striking screening alongside so many other films inspired by his oeuvre.
The Canadian side of TIFF’s Short Cuts selections includes two strong works from filmmakers branching out from their non-fiction roots. Michael Del Monte expertly translates the eye for cinéma vérité he honed on docs like Transformer and His Name Is Ray with a powerfully tough as nails glimpse into the world of youth boxing. One could easily mistake Fight Kid (Short Cuts 3) for a documentary, too, as spot-on casting of a father and son, driven by their tenacity and commitment to the sport–and each other– lends remarkably lived-on authenticity to these performances and the world they inhabit. As tough as it is tender, Fight Kid marks a notable dramatic step for a filmmaker who knows the power of lean storytelling.
On the flipside is The Highway (Short Cuts 1), the dramatic debut of documentary master Yung Chang (Up the Yangtze, This Is Not a Movie). The Highway takes an imaginative leap from an episode ripped from Chang’s life in which he and a driver crossed paths with a body on a highway in China. The resulting film offers a speculative reflection upon that COVID-era mentality of self-preservation. Chang creates a monster movie from our collective compulsion to pass others by. This film offers a complete departure for Yang both narratively and stylistically. It features enigmatic world building and intoxicating splashes of colour as the violent reds of brake lights saturate the night sky. It’s a horror fable admirably rooted in realism, and a wonderful surprise — although one only hopes that Chang isn’t crossing the floor permanently!
