Movies I Watched Instead of Writing: C.R.A.Z.Y. & Control

Sorry I haven't been updating this as regularly as I would have liked, but the last week has been a never ending cavalcade of packing, cleaning and last minute socializing. However, we did manage to sneak a couple of movies in there as well.

C.R.A.Z.Y. This 2005 film was a monster hit in Quebec and apparently one in eight Quebequers saw it in theatres. It also swept the Genies that year and had been on our to watch list for a while. So, in an attempt to further psych ourselves up for the move we decided to finally give it a chance. And I am very glad we did. Backed by an awesome period soundtrack (which apparently ate up most of the budget), C.R.A.Z.Y. tells the story of the Beaulieu family, a fairly average French Catholic family and their "exceptional" second youngest son, Zachary. See, while all four boys are very different, Zack is the wrong kind of different, the kind that alienates him for much of his childhood from his macho father (an excellent Michel Côté). The highlights of the film were definitely the performances, particularly Côté, Danielle Proulx as the mother and Marc-André Grondin as Zachary. I also recommend checking out this excellent CBC article.

Control If you've known me for any length of time you know that I am a HUGE diehard Joy Division fan, so when Beej informed me that the Ian Curtis biopic was playing at this year's VIFF, I had to squeeze it into the schedule, no matter what. And I have to admit that I was very apprehensive when I heard that Tony Wilson and Deborah Curtis had finally giving the project the go ahead, but the fact that they were basing the film on Deborah's heartbreaking book was some consolation. I also admit to having mixed feelings about Anton Corbijn as the director. Sure, it was fairly common knowledge that his move to England in the 1970's was inspired by Ian and Joy Division's music, but I have to say that I was not all that impressed by his music video output. While his grainy black and white esthetic is iconic, it doesn't really showcase a lot of depth or dramatic development.

However, all my fretting was for nought. Control is a beautiful, powerful, and very good film. Comparisions to Saturday Night, Sunday Morning are certainly appropriate as Macclesfield is a working class town and Joy Division was a working class band. Samantha Morton does a marvelous job as Debbie, never falling into the trap of playing the victim or the shrew, instead emphasizing her love for Ian and her initial starteling innocence. Sam Riley is also incredible as Ian, an ambitious but fragile man worn down by fate and his own fickle wants.

My other favourite preformances include Toby Kebbell as Rob Gretton, Craig Parkinson as Tony Wilson and Joe Anderson as a delightfully crabby Peter Hook.

The naturalistic and heartbreaking performances are aided by several directorial choices, including the use of a stark black and white portrait which both conveys the spirit of the kitchen sink dramas of the 1960s and allows Corbijn to best demontrate his painterly photographic style. Corbijns framing and use of shadows tell stories where the dialogue is absent, particularly in the way he frames those around Ian and Annik when they are together: backs turned perfectly away, but present and compliant none the less.

The other surprisingly effective trick employed by Corbijn was to have the actors to play their own instruments during the concert scenes. Because Joy Divisions music is not technically difficult, the difference in their playing is barely noticeable, but the immediacy and energy their playing brings to their scenes makes it incredibly easy to understand how they became popular so quickly. While Sam Rileys melodic tennor can be distrancting to those accustomed to Ian Curtis haunting mono-baritone, the power with which he sings conveys the character perfectly.

My only complaint is that because the film is such a slow burn, for those already intimate with Curtis story, it does seem to drag at times. And yet, eventhough we all know how the film has to end, it is even more heartbreaking than we could have imagined.

Bad Timing?

A study released on Wednesday by the Quebec Community Groups Network doesn't really seem to bode that well for me. According to the study, Anglos in Montreal are a dying breed and they need to better work together to make sure their needs are met. An earlier version of the story which I can no longer locate online quoted unemployment for Anglo Montrealers at close to 10% (although the sample group referenced was only 400 people). They also say that many Anglos do not have access to English speaking health care professionals. Among other recommendations, including better cooperation between English school boards, they suggest that Anglo Montrealers try to brush up on their French.

As for why some Anglos are having trouble finding health care professionals, I found this report about a dentist in Quebec who speaks four languages, including English and French, who is being denied a permanent license because he failed a French written exam. Four times.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

So, you've probably noticed that I haven't written on my blog in a long time. There are many reasons for this, time being one of them, lack of inspiration being another, and let's not forget the devastating blows my self-esteem have taken in the last couple of years. It's hard to say anything with conviction when you don't really want to get out of bed.

Well, in an effort to tackle at least two of these problems I decided to indulge another romantic fantasy, slightly less costly and not nearly as legally binding as my last one. In a mere 11 days, I am boarding a plane for Montreal. And it's a one way ticket.

I will have two companions along for the ride, my fabulous Quebecois beau, L, and my pretty (even the vet said so) male cat K.C. (a.k.a. Bitey). All we need to do is find me a job & all of us an apartment.

I have long fantasized about starting over, just ditching everything and going to a new city. You have to admit it's a fantastically romantic idea, and I am a true Pisces. Now I find myself on the brink of doing just that, and I have to admit, it's kinda terrifying. It's hard for me to expect sympathy for my fear. This was, after all, my idea, and I know that I'll be fine. I guess it's just the mountain of boxes is making me realize this is real. Which means I am about to leave my family (I have never lived more than 30 minutes from my parents) and my friends to start life in a province where I will be a minority, not because of my race but because of my mother tongue.

As much as I think that I will be more at home on the East Coast, there will be a learning curve. While I do speak (pretty good by most accounts) French, I am still lacking confidence speaking it to strangers, although L keeps insisting that I will be perfectly bilingual in a matter of months. So, in addition to film I am going to start blogging all things Quebec, mostly because Quebecois culture has fascinated me ever since I was crowned Duchess of my kindergarten class during our version of Winter Carnival (I went to a French Immersion school).

Of all the places we could be going, Montreal makes sense for a host of reasons:

- Allegedly they get more sun than Vancouver and being that I am affected by S.A.D., this seems like a good thing
- The arts seem to be better supported, both my the government and by the public
- The bars are open until 4 AM
- They will pay me to have a baby
- I have a better chance of running into Jean-Nicholas Verrault
- I already promised Jeremy Knox I would help him review at next year's Fantasia Festival
- I can already cook tourtiere, cretons, and tarte au sucre
- I really want to go to Carnival for my birthday and it's easier to drive there from Montreal

Wish me luck.