framing device

I spent the better part of the day trying to track down tickets for movies I got shut out of. To make a sad story short, I didn’t have much luck. And on top of that, the main walking shoes I brought to the festival finally gave up the ghost after two years of service (when the hole in the heel outgrows the size of a quarter, you know it’s time to give ‘em up). I knew they were on their last legs, but I didn’t want to break in a new pair of shoes at TIFF. Oh well, guess I’ll have to now. In better news, I’ve already started bumping into friends like Dan Sallitt and making new ones like Bob Turnbull.

There was a strange lack of screenings on Day 1. In the past, films started in the late afternoon or dinner time at least. This year there were only a couple movies in the early evening, with most starting between 8 and 9pm. That meant that unless I wanted to stay up to see the Argento at midnight, my first night at TIFF would be a one-note affair. I solved that problem, though, by picking the one screening that featured two movies on its own: a pair of one-hour documentaries.

It was a strong start to the fest, with both films provoking thought about the possibilities and limitations of democracy. Dinner with the President is structured around a liberal elite couple (the directors Sabiha Sumar and Sachithanandam Sathananthan) in Pakistan who interview President Musharraf over dinner and then on a different day over tea. Those segments are relatively banal, with far too many reaction shots and relatively little substance. There is, however, the delightful moment when we watch Musharraf reacting to his mother telling a story about his boyhood. Certain emotions are universal (and comical).

Far better are the scenes when the directors travel through Pakistan, interviewing various people about their ideas of democracy and the current state of the nation. These scenes are both well edited and eye opening. We see Pakistan not as the monolith we watch on the nightly news but as richly diverse, where even people from the same village and background often disagree. I was grateful just to see places like the Northwest Frontier Province and the “tribal regions” that I’ve read about recently.

The conversations are thoughtful, though optimists may rethink their ideas about how quickly democracy can take root in Pakistan and whether a quick transition would even be wise. One interview involves men describing why they don’t want their women to be educated or out in the public arena (“the women rule at home”), while the next interview takes place at a seaside party where hedonistic young adults praise Musharraf for how well the country is doing. I couldn’t help but ponder how the first group of men would’ve reacted–probably by pointing and affirming this is why they don’t want their daughters to be educated. The final scene is particularly striking, as we travel to a poor, isolated village. When asked what he would do if he were president, an older man stares in total disbelief. The very idea is impossible to conceive.

Please Vote for Me is an even better film. An entertaining look at an election for a third-grade class monitor (apparently the first such election at a Chinese school), this turns out to be a tutorial on both the excitement and pitfalls of mass elections. Three children, two boys and a girl, are chosen to campaign for the position, and we watch as they (and their parents) scheme and plan through a talent show, debates, speeches and, most importantly, back-room politicking. I’m a sucker for documentaries about children, and this one does not disappoint, as it captures how children interact, in all their joy and meanness. And mean they are at times, particularly when an election is on the line. The third-grade equivalent of dirty tricks comes out when one boy and his assistants conspire to fluster the girl before her talent performance. Furthermore, lies and intimidation are par for the course. Democracy advocates won’t be terribly impressed by how the classmates vote, as a trip organized by one of the parents along with gifts passed out on the day of the election help carry the day. Still the implications for larger elections are clear.

The film itself is razor sharp, as director Weijun Chen and editor Jean Tsien strip away anything unnecessary and yet capture all the critical moments. The schoolyard exercises that open and close the film are strikingly reminiscent of Abbas Kiarostami’s Homework, as both explore how education approaches indoctrination. More critically, the film naturally highlights the complicated nature of democracy–how genuinely negative side-effects are a natural by-product and why free elections might not be the panacea some politicians claim. Not that the film argues for totalitarianism, but it recognizes democracy’s inherent messiness. But even if you don’t look too deeply into the film, the footage of children being children never fails to please.

Tomorrow brings the first masterpiece of the festival as well as the first disappointment.

Dinner with the President: three 1/2 stars, out of five
Please Vote for Me: four stars