All photos beautifully captured by Emily Cooper.
Tickets are now available online or at the box office (604.731.5518) - including two talk-backs and a relaxed performance on Sunday, Dec 8th!
Friday, November 22, 2019
christmas carol | new photos!
It's almost time for Scrooge and his many companions to take the stage - and this year, all forty-four of Dickens' Christmas creations will be embodied by our own Ron Reed, who also adapted the novel for stage. Long-time Pacific theatregoers may remember our last production of Christmas Carol with director Sarah Rodgers - this year, Ron is teaming up with director Morris Ertman to bring this beautiful work to life.
All photos beautifully captured by Emily Cooper.
Tickets are now available online or at the box office (604.731.5518) - including two talk-backs and a relaxed performance on Sunday, Dec 8th!
All photos beautifully captured by Emily Cooper.
Tickets are now available online or at the box office (604.731.5518) - including two talk-backs and a relaxed performance on Sunday, Dec 8th!
Wednesday, November 13, 2019
theatre upgrades | accessibility at PT!
NexGen Hearing representative Susan with our official hearing loop signage!
We're excited to announce two improvements to help make Pacific Theatre more accessible!
Our extremely generous sponsor, NexGen Hearing West Broadway is our partner in obtaining a hearing loop for the theatre.
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What is a hearing loop?
A hearing loop system wirelessly transmits audio from the mixing console discreetly and conveniently to the recipient's hearing aids when the “T-Coil” function (found on most hearing aids or hearing aid remotes) are switched on.
A hearing loop system wirelessly transmits audio from the mixing console discreetly and conveniently to the recipient's hearing aids when the “T-Coil” function (found on most hearing aids or hearing aid remotes) are switched on.
How does it work?
A dedicated loop amplifier sends the audio signal into a very thin copper foil that has been invisibly installed under the seats in the auditorium. Anyone within the “looped” area can switch on their hearing aids to the “T-Coil” position to wirelessly receive a very clear and engaging signal directly to their earpiece.
A dedicated loop amplifier sends the audio signal into a very thin copper foil that has been invisibly installed under the seats in the auditorium. Anyone within the “looped” area can switch on their hearing aids to the “T-Coil” position to wirelessly receive a very clear and engaging signal directly to their earpiece.
If you don't use a hearing aid, a limited number of receiver units are available for you to borrow for the show!
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We have also introduced relaxed performances – our first relaxed performance is our Christmas Carol matinee on December 8th at 2pm.
Relaxed Performances are designed to welcome audience members who will benefit from a more relaxed sensory experience and casual environment, including (but not limited to) patrons with an Autism Spectrum condition, a sensory processing disorder, or a learning disability.
There is a more relaxed approach to noise and movement within the theatre space; some minor production changes may be made to reduce the intensity of light, sound and other effects which might be startling.
These shows are for anyone. Many other people may choose to attend a relaxed performance, either as an access requirement or because they like the inclusive environment.
These shows are for anyone. Many other people may choose to attend a relaxed performance, either as an access requirement or because they like the inclusive environment.
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Thank you for coming to Pacific Theatre and joining us in our commitment in bringing as many people as possible into this magical world.
Wednesday, November 06, 2019
the man who invented christmas | les standiford
With A Christmas Carol just around the bend, here is a timely excerpt from the preface of "The Man Who Invented Christmas" by Les Standiford.
In London, in 1824, it was the custom to treat a debtor little differently from a man who had reached into a purse and stolen a similar sum. In this case, he was a father of seven, and though he was gainfully employed, it was not gainful enough. His debt was to a baker, a man named Karr, who lived in Camden Street, and the sum was forty pounds, no small amount in those days, when an oyster was a penny, a whole salmon a pound and six, and a clerk who worked for a tightfisted miser in a countinghouse might not earn as much in a year.
Accounts were tallied, the sheriff was consulted, and men were sent in consequence. Our father – John his name, and thirty-seven – was taken by the sheriff's men to what was called a "sponging house," a kind of purgatory where those who could not meet their obligations were afforded some few days to seek relief from their creditors' charges, intervention from a person of influence, or possibly a loan from family or friends.
In this instance, help was not forthcoming. Two days passed with no good word, and then our John, officially an insolvent debtor, was passed along to the Marshalsea, imprisoned alongside smugglers, mutineers, and pirates. "The sun has set on me, forever," he told his family as he left.
One who tried to help was a son of John, who, then twelve, took a job, at six shillings a week in a tumbledown factory-house that sat on the banks of the River Thames. One day long afterwards the boy would speak of the place, "Its wainscoted rooms and its rotten floors and staircase, and the old grey rats swarming down in the cellars, and the sound of their squeaking and scuffling coming up the stairs at all times, and the dirt and decay of the place, rise up visibly before me, as if I were there again."
His job was to fill small pots with shoe blacking, and tie them off with paper, and then to paste on each a printed label. The boy worked ten hours a day, standing near a window for better light and where any passersby might see him, with a break for a meal at noon, and one for tea later on. And though the place was grim and the work was numbing, and this had put his childhood to an end, he worked on. For his father was in prison. For a debt of forty pounds. For his family's bread.
"My whole nature was so penetrated with the grief and humiliation of such considerations," the boy would one day write, "that even now... I often forget in my dreams that I have a dear wife and children; even that I am a man; and [I] wander desolately back to that time of my life."
While these words testify to the force of a childhood blow, they also offer reassurance that there would one day come a lightening of his circumstances. That the boy would not spend forever in his dismal occupation, nor would his father stay forever in the Marshalsea, though there were three long months there, with our young man visiting his father in a tiny room behind high spiked walls, and where, the boy recalls, they "cried very much."
And where his father told him "to take warning by the Marshalsea, and to observe that if a man had twenty pounds a year, and spent nineteen pounds nineteen shillings and six-pence, he would be happy; but that shilling spent the other way would make him wretched." These words of caution, and lament, and more, and then at 10:00 p.m. the warning bell would toll and our young man of twelve would walk out into the foggy London night, five miles toward home, and some hours of oblivion before the scurrying, and the squealing, and the little pots of blacking came again.
The boy's name was Charles, of course, and his family's name was Dickens.
In London, in 1824, it was the custom to treat a debtor little differently from a man who had reached into a purse and stolen a similar sum. In this case, he was a father of seven, and though he was gainfully employed, it was not gainful enough. His debt was to a baker, a man named Karr, who lived in Camden Street, and the sum was forty pounds, no small amount in those days, when an oyster was a penny, a whole salmon a pound and six, and a clerk who worked for a tightfisted miser in a countinghouse might not earn as much in a year.
Accounts were tallied, the sheriff was consulted, and men were sent in consequence. Our father – John his name, and thirty-seven – was taken by the sheriff's men to what was called a "sponging house," a kind of purgatory where those who could not meet their obligations were afforded some few days to seek relief from their creditors' charges, intervention from a person of influence, or possibly a loan from family or friends.
In this instance, help was not forthcoming. Two days passed with no good word, and then our John, officially an insolvent debtor, was passed along to the Marshalsea, imprisoned alongside smugglers, mutineers, and pirates. "The sun has set on me, forever," he told his family as he left.
One who tried to help was a son of John, who, then twelve, took a job, at six shillings a week in a tumbledown factory-house that sat on the banks of the River Thames. One day long afterwards the boy would speak of the place, "Its wainscoted rooms and its rotten floors and staircase, and the old grey rats swarming down in the cellars, and the sound of their squeaking and scuffling coming up the stairs at all times, and the dirt and decay of the place, rise up visibly before me, as if I were there again."
His job was to fill small pots with shoe blacking, and tie them off with paper, and then to paste on each a printed label. The boy worked ten hours a day, standing near a window for better light and where any passersby might see him, with a break for a meal at noon, and one for tea later on. And though the place was grim and the work was numbing, and this had put his childhood to an end, he worked on. For his father was in prison. For a debt of forty pounds. For his family's bread.
"My whole nature was so penetrated with the grief and humiliation of such considerations," the boy would one day write, "that even now... I often forget in my dreams that I have a dear wife and children; even that I am a man; and [I] wander desolately back to that time of my life."
While these words testify to the force of a childhood blow, they also offer reassurance that there would one day come a lightening of his circumstances. That the boy would not spend forever in his dismal occupation, nor would his father stay forever in the Marshalsea, though there were three long months there, with our young man visiting his father in a tiny room behind high spiked walls, and where, the boy recalls, they "cried very much."
And where his father told him "to take warning by the Marshalsea, and to observe that if a man had twenty pounds a year, and spent nineteen pounds nineteen shillings and six-pence, he would be happy; but that shilling spent the other way would make him wretched." These words of caution, and lament, and more, and then at 10:00 p.m. the warning bell would toll and our young man of twelve would walk out into the foggy London night, five miles toward home, and some hours of oblivion before the scurrying, and the squealing, and the little pots of blacking came again.
The boy's name was Charles, of course, and his family's name was Dickens.
nov 11 - 17 | jake's gift
What perfect timing! JAKE'S GIFT is in town for Remembrance Day week. This beautiful one-person show has played all over Canada for years now, including a short run at Pacific Theatre back in 2011. But the PT roots go deeper; the character of Jake was born in a three week Mask Characterization workshop in 2002, which led to our Christmas production that year, MERCY WILD - with both Julia and Dirk Van Stralen in the cast. Welcome home, Jake!
JAKE'S GIFT
Presentation House
Nov 11-17
We're deeply honoured to present Jake's Gift on Remembrance Day and throughout the week that follows. Described by playwright, Julia Mackey as a “love letter of thanks to all our veterans”, this beloved Canadian drama will continue at Presentation House Theatre from Nov 11 - 17.
Surprisingly funny, Jake’s Gift tells the story of a Canadian World War II veteran’s reluctant return to Normandy, France, to find the grave of the brother who never came home. While visiting the shores of Juno Beach, Jake encounters Isabelle, a precocious 10-year-old from the local village. Isabelle’s inquisitive nature and charm challenge the old soldier to confront some long-ignored ghosts. At its heart, Jake’s Gift is about the legacy of remembrance that personalizes the story behind one soldier’s grave.
Written by Julia Mackey
Directed by Dirk Van Stralen
Produced by Juno Productions
Sponsored by PARC Retirement Living
“We’re thrilled to be back in North Vancouver throughout Remembrance Day week to honour our veterans, and the memory of all those young men and women who never got to come home especially in this 75th Anniversary year of D-Day." Julia Mackey, Playwright & Performer
“Moving, poignant, exceptionally funny and timeless ... one of the best pieces of theatre I have ever seen.” Karen Jeffery, Sunset Theatre
JAKE'S GIFT
Presentation House
Nov 11-17
We're deeply honoured to present Jake's Gift on Remembrance Day and throughout the week that follows. Described by playwright, Julia Mackey as a “love letter of thanks to all our veterans”, this beloved Canadian drama will continue at Presentation House Theatre from Nov 11 - 17.
Surprisingly funny, Jake’s Gift tells the story of a Canadian World War II veteran’s reluctant return to Normandy, France, to find the grave of the brother who never came home. While visiting the shores of Juno Beach, Jake encounters Isabelle, a precocious 10-year-old from the local village. Isabelle’s inquisitive nature and charm challenge the old soldier to confront some long-ignored ghosts. At its heart, Jake’s Gift is about the legacy of remembrance that personalizes the story behind one soldier’s grave.
Written by Julia Mackey
Directed by Dirk Van Stralen
Produced by Juno Productions
Sponsored by PARC Retirement Living
“We’re thrilled to be back in North Vancouver throughout Remembrance Day week to honour our veterans, and the memory of all those young men and women who never got to come home especially in this 75th Anniversary year of D-Day." Julia Mackey, Playwright & Performer
“Moving, poignant, exceptionally funny and timeless ... one of the best pieces of theatre I have ever seen.” Karen Jeffery, Sunset Theatre
kwerks | find your loud
Director Jason Goode shared this with me back in the summer, and I was so moved. The song made its very powerful debut at Christmas Presence a couple years ago, and this video - this short film, really - more than does it justice. Laura and Ryan ("The Kwerks") have become an essential part of our Christmas Presence celebrations, Jason directed the celebrated production of DANNY AND THE DEEP BLUE SEA at Pacific Theatre, and actors Shauna Johannesen (COMMON GRACE, WITTENBERG) and Aleks Paunovic (DANNY) are also PT folks. Such a beautiful piece of film. Three fully realized stories in five minutes? Altman in miniature.
the kwerks
nov 8/9 | foolin' around: the bard's best bits | pt apprents
FOOLIN' AROUND!
A Night of the Bard's Best Bits
Nov 8th @ 8pm
Nov 9th @ 2pm and 8pm
Run Time: 40 mins
Pay What You Think It's Worth After The Show
Featuring: Chantal Gallant, Nicola Shannon and Jade Munsie
Directed by: Julia Siedlanowska
If you're looking for a laugh and a romp with Shakespeare's best bits, our apprentice project is for you. With scenes from A Midsummer Night's Dream, The Comedy of Errors, Twelfth Night, Hamlet, and As You Like It, we explore Shakespeare's fools in love, fools by profession and fools by accident.
This project came about from a desire to work together on a small project as well as an interest in clowning and comedy. We decided to choose Shakespeare’s works as our playground. Each of us brought two “fools” we’d like to play, as well as a theme song for each character. From that initial meeting, Foolin' Around was born.
We hope to see your friendly faces in the audience!
Warmly,
Chantal, Nicola and Jade
Thoughts from the director, Julia Siedlanowska:
“If art is not spiritual, it suffers from our human limitations.” -Richard Wagamese
When the apprentices (as each year three artists become lovingly known here at PT) approached me about directing a few of the Bard’s most famous fool scenes, I thought it was a great opportunity to keep my directing and Shakespeare study chops up. Moreover it was a way for me to give back to a program which gave me so very much. I was an apprentice here for the 2015/16 season. I am struck by these three artists: Chantal, Jade and Nicola. In them I recognize my own journey as an apprentice three years ago, how much I grew and changed throughout that year with my PT family, how much clarity and strength I gained, how much more I became because of it. As I see the work that these artists put into their first apprentice project, I look forward to seeing them a year from now, and observing what they’ve learned and how they’ve grown. Today they present you with a myriad of characters that give us the opportunity to see our own circumstances enacted- and perhaps let them go through laughter. Although these characters may be foolish, their feelings are all too real- and hopefully, if we have lived at all- recognizable. I thank you for being here and being part of the journey.
“If you find it hard to laugh at yourself, I would be happy to do it for you.” -Groucho Marx
Wednesday, October 30, 2019
frankenstein | program notes | julia lank
Pacific Theatre produces very little science fiction. Indeed, it’s rare to see the genre on stage at all. And yet, the questions asked by Shelley in 1816 - what differentiates human life from the monstrous? How can we make amends for our vilest acts? why were we gifted with the power to create, and to destroy? - reflect in every way the ideas Pacific Theatre was founded to explore.
Playwright Peter Church has created two previous radio-play adaptations for Pacific: beautiful period-inspired interpretations of Christmas stories It’s A Wonderful Life and A Christmas Carol. With returning cast members Matthew Simmons and Diana Squires and another sonic-based world to explore, it would have been easy to continue in the vein of those productions. But director Chris Lam chose to dig into the darker aspects of the story.
Frankenstein and his monster are a clear allegory for many things - one is the peril of thoughtless creation. Artists tend to idolize creation and creativity; they are, after all, bound to and dependent upon their ability to create. But Frankenstein looks through the glass at the decisions we make in pride and panic, and the dark spectres we raise when our vision narrows too far. The power of art - the ability to affect the mind and soul of a listener - is an awesome responsibility, when held to the light. Wherever our sympathies lie at the end of the story, Victor’s desire to transcend the limits of creativity is a dim mirror that hides in the back room of all artistic souls.
Pacific is thrilled to offer a glimpse down this dark road with the talented cast and crew of Wireless Wings, and to continue offering artists opportunities to create - with eyes wide open.
by Julia Lank
Tuesday, October 29, 2019
nov 1 | kwerks | 'find your loud' premiere party
The moment The Kwerks appeared on the CHRISTMAS PRESENCE stage a few years ago, they instantly became regulars. A couple years back they debuted a new tune, The Drum Song, that felt like a departure from their usual Kwerky, upbeat style. And this summer they retitled the song, and created a video with another Pacific Theatre guy, Jason Goode, who directed a memorable production of DANNY AND THE DEEP BLUE SEA in 2012. Jason gave me an advance look at it, and I was so moved; more than a music video, it's essentially a brilliant short film. Several terrific performances, including Shauna Johannesen (COMMON GRACE) and Aleks Paunovic (DANNY& THE DEEP BLUE SEA).
Laura Koch (head Kwerk) writes: "We’ve been working for a long time towards the release of our song “Find Your Loud” - you might remember it titled Drum Song when we played it at Christmas Presence. Well it’s re-titled, and we worked with Jason Goode’s production company to put together a beautiful music video which we’re showing at The Clova this Friday in a celebration of the release. There will be live music (by our band, of course), popcorn, the screening, a Q&A with cast & crew, and even some fancy new quirky merch."
The Kwerks
FIND YOUR LOUD release party and concert
fri nov 1 @ 7pm
clova theatre | 5732 176 street, surrey
tickets
Laura Koch (head Kwerk) writes: "We’ve been working for a long time towards the release of our song “Find Your Loud” - you might remember it titled Drum Song when we played it at Christmas Presence. Well it’s re-titled, and we worked with Jason Goode’s production company to put together a beautiful music video which we’re showing at The Clova this Friday in a celebration of the release. There will be live music (by our band, of course), popcorn, the screening, a Q&A with cast & crew, and even some fancy new quirky merch."
The Kwerks
FIND YOUR LOUD release party and concert
fri nov 1 @ 7pm
clova theatre | 5732 176 street, surrey
tickets
Monday, October 28, 2019
allen desnoyers | pier 21
Allen Desnoyers co-founded Pacific Theatre with me, back in 1984. He still appears in Christmas Presence from time to time, and we've got a Christmas musical in the wings that would feature Allen as performer and Musical Director. But he's pretty busy with his own company, Canadiana Musical Theatre, that tours shows to communities and schools around western Canada. His new piece, Pier 21, played an extended run right at Pier 21 itself this summer, the Halifax entry point for over a million and a half migrants coming to Canada over the past century. There's a rare opportunity to see a public performance of the show this Saturday in Tsawwassen.
PIER 21
by Allen Desnoyers
sat nov 2 @ 7pm
South Delta Baptist Church
1988 56 St, Tsawwassen
tickets $20 online
or $25 at the door
“With the situation in the United States the past few years and the hostility towards people who are immigrants, a play that shows what it is like for people leaving a war-torn environment has been a ‘lesson in compassion.’ People have been profoundly moved. When you start exploring the level of suffering people have gone through, you get caught up in those stories, and you start to recognize the humanity you have in common with people.” Allen Desnoyers
*
The performance culminates a day-long writers conference sponsored by the Surrey & White Rock chapters of The Word Guild. I'll be speaking about writing my play TOLKIEN, Allen will talk about his process in writing a dozen historical musicals, and other speakers will include David Kitz, Rose Seiler Scott, and event sponsor Jim Martens. Information and registration here.
PIER 21
by Allen Desnoyers
sat nov 2 @ 7pm
South Delta Baptist Church
1988 56 St, Tsawwassen
tickets $20 online
or $25 at the door
“With the situation in the United States the past few years and the hostility towards people who are immigrants, a play that shows what it is like for people leaving a war-torn environment has been a ‘lesson in compassion.’ People have been profoundly moved. When you start exploring the level of suffering people have gone through, you get caught up in those stories, and you start to recognize the humanity you have in common with people.” Allen Desnoyers
*
The performance culminates a day-long writers conference sponsored by the Surrey & White Rock chapters of The Word Guild. I'll be speaking about writing my play TOLKIEN, Allen will talk about his process in writing a dozen historical musicals, and other speakers will include David Kitz, Rose Seiler Scott, and event sponsor Jim Martens. Information and registration here.
Friday, October 25, 2019
oct 25/26 | curse of the demon
Pacific Cinematheque is screening one of Jacques Tourneur's fascinating, idiosyncratic, brilliant films in the lead-up to Halloween. So if you've got a night when you're not seeing FRANKENSTEIN: LOST IN DARKNESS at Pacific Theatre, check this out. I've long thought that this is the closest we're likely to get to a film version of a Charles Williams novel; the presence of dark supernatural powers in settings so ordinary and British the verge on the banal. And while my Soul Food Movies write-up doesn't exactly sell the movie as a must-see, there are sequences that are unforgettable. It's not something you'll get a lot of chances to see on a big screen.
Pacific Cinematheque
Fri Oct 25 @ 8:30
Sat Oct 26 @ 6:00
CURSE OF THE DEMON ("NIGHT OF THE DEMON," 1957, UK, Jacques Tourneur, Charles Bennett / Hal E. Chester / Cy Endfield screenplay, Montague R. James story)
You could learn a lot from children. They believe in things in the dark, although we tell them it's not so. Maybe we've been fooling them.
There's too much demon for me, and much too soon. I love Tourneur's grand theme – "I make films on the supernatural, and I make them because I believe in it" – and this, his last journey into the fantastique genre, is saturated with dialogue that goes straight to the heart of his favourite and most fascinating questions. But in this picture, I wonder if it isn't all a bit much? There's a thin line between theme and message, and when things get obvious we grow impatient.
Dr. John Holden (another of this director's uber-Yankee rationalist-materialists) travels to England to debunk a Satanic cult, only to be confronted with the reality of evil when he finds himself under a deadly ancient curse. He encounters any number of "believers," from seancing grannies and the sort of not-so-tourist-friendly British country folk who would later show up in STRAW DOGS and WICKER MAN to Fifties-sexy kindergarten teachers who won't take any of this guy's guff because they majored in psychology. (Reminds me of Dr Science: "And remember, he's smarter than you: 'I have a master's degree….'") None of whom make a dent in Doc Holden's boiler-plated and compulsive skepticism.
Problem is, the narrative deck is stacked against the good doctor from the outset, so there's no room for the sort of ambiguity and psychological suspense that make CAT PEOPLE and I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE so effective. Is Irina right about this whole fatal feline thing, or is she psychologically troubled? For the longest time, we don't know, so we can at least empathize with (and many times even agree with) the common-sense perspective of her practical Americano boyfriend. In ZOMBIE, we never do really know what's nuts-n-bolts explicable and what's the legacy of the past and what's full-on voodoo "more in heaven and earth" supernatural stuff – or even whether the spiritual carryings-on are evil or benign.
But in CURSE, we spend almost a full minute with the demon only six minutes in, a twenty foot wolf-bear-godzilla type beast that walks out of the darkness in that gravity-free, jerky way bad movie monsters have, all covered in unkempt black hair and flames. Violins swirl, horn sections bombast, there's this screechy noise like the wheel on some kid's wagon needs to be oiled, and a guy in a bowler hat screams, panics and gets electrocuted. And I'm thinking, this is a Jacques Tourneur movie?
Not exactly, at least not according to Jacques. When JT signed off on this one there was no monster at the front end, and at the back, only a four-frame glimpse of something that might be a demon, or might not be. "The scenes in which you really see the demon were shot without me. The audience should never have been entirely sure…" The flaming black horned critter is courtesy of the producer, whose monster picture was darn well going to have a monster in it, thank you very much. "They ruined the film by showing it from the very beginning."
I'm afraid he's right. In a film that's completely preoccupied with questions of skepticism and belief, that's centred on a character whose stubborn commitment to scientific rationalism only slowly gives way to something… well, more rational… the presentation of a big, hairy, incontrovertibly real demon in Scene Two is a serious problem. When he first opens his mouth he's obviously just plain wrong about things, the audience knows better, and the more he opens that mouth, the more annoying he gets.
There are marvelous elements, though, in spite of studio tampering. When we first meet Dr Julian Karswell, the purported Satanist, he's playing cribbage with his old mum, and the film's most effective scene (loaded with ambivalence, irony and uncertainty) takes place at a party he holds for the local children, complete with clown nose and everyday magic tricks. "I see you practice white magic as well as black." "Oh yes, I don't think it would be too amusing for the youngsters if I conjured up a demon from hell for them." There's something about the scene's utter Englishness, and its suggestion that supernatural parlour games may cloak real occult forces, that could have come straight from one of the supernatural thrillers of Charles Williams,the author who was such an influence on C.S. Lewis, (particularly in That Hideous Strength). "You know, the devil has something here. Very pleasant." "He's most dangerous when he's being pleasant."
The best way to watch DEMON may be to imagine the film as the director intended it. Let go of the producer's certainty that there is a big, nasty demon, and give Doc Holden a chance by leaving things up in the air. After all, most of us share at least a measure of his skepticism, don't we? If not about all things spiritual, at least about ghosts and demons and things that aren't the family dog but do go bump in the night. The interfering Mister Chester's "real" Scary Monster only succeeds in robbing the film's real horror any sense of reality, and that sells Jacques Tourneur's vision sadly short: he would have defined things less, left more to the imagination. As they say at the end of the film, "Maybe it's better not to know."
Also by Jacques Tourneur
Cat People (1942)
I Walked With A Zombie (1943)
Stars In My Crown (1950)
Soul Food Movies index
Pacific Cinematheque
Fri Oct 25 @ 8:30
Sat Oct 26 @ 6:00
CURSE OF THE DEMON ("NIGHT OF THE DEMON," 1957, UK, Jacques Tourneur, Charles Bennett / Hal E. Chester / Cy Endfield screenplay, Montague R. James story)
You could learn a lot from children. They believe in things in the dark, although we tell them it's not so. Maybe we've been fooling them.
There's too much demon for me, and much too soon. I love Tourneur's grand theme – "I make films on the supernatural, and I make them because I believe in it" – and this, his last journey into the fantastique genre, is saturated with dialogue that goes straight to the heart of his favourite and most fascinating questions. But in this picture, I wonder if it isn't all a bit much? There's a thin line between theme and message, and when things get obvious we grow impatient.
Dr. John Holden (another of this director's uber-Yankee rationalist-materialists) travels to England to debunk a Satanic cult, only to be confronted with the reality of evil when he finds himself under a deadly ancient curse. He encounters any number of "believers," from seancing grannies and the sort of not-so-tourist-friendly British country folk who would later show up in STRAW DOGS and WICKER MAN to Fifties-sexy kindergarten teachers who won't take any of this guy's guff because they majored in psychology. (Reminds me of Dr Science: "And remember, he's smarter than you: 'I have a master's degree….'") None of whom make a dent in Doc Holden's boiler-plated and compulsive skepticism.
Problem is, the narrative deck is stacked against the good doctor from the outset, so there's no room for the sort of ambiguity and psychological suspense that make CAT PEOPLE and I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE so effective. Is Irina right about this whole fatal feline thing, or is she psychologically troubled? For the longest time, we don't know, so we can at least empathize with (and many times even agree with) the common-sense perspective of her practical Americano boyfriend. In ZOMBIE, we never do really know what's nuts-n-bolts explicable and what's the legacy of the past and what's full-on voodoo "more in heaven and earth" supernatural stuff – or even whether the spiritual carryings-on are evil or benign.
But in CURSE, we spend almost a full minute with the demon only six minutes in, a twenty foot wolf-bear-godzilla type beast that walks out of the darkness in that gravity-free, jerky way bad movie monsters have, all covered in unkempt black hair and flames. Violins swirl, horn sections bombast, there's this screechy noise like the wheel on some kid's wagon needs to be oiled, and a guy in a bowler hat screams, panics and gets electrocuted. And I'm thinking, this is a Jacques Tourneur movie?
Not exactly, at least not according to Jacques. When JT signed off on this one there was no monster at the front end, and at the back, only a four-frame glimpse of something that might be a demon, or might not be. "The scenes in which you really see the demon were shot without me. The audience should never have been entirely sure…" The flaming black horned critter is courtesy of the producer, whose monster picture was darn well going to have a monster in it, thank you very much. "They ruined the film by showing it from the very beginning."
I'm afraid he's right. In a film that's completely preoccupied with questions of skepticism and belief, that's centred on a character whose stubborn commitment to scientific rationalism only slowly gives way to something… well, more rational… the presentation of a big, hairy, incontrovertibly real demon in Scene Two is a serious problem. When he first opens his mouth he's obviously just plain wrong about things, the audience knows better, and the more he opens that mouth, the more annoying he gets.
There are marvelous elements, though, in spite of studio tampering. When we first meet Dr Julian Karswell, the purported Satanist, he's playing cribbage with his old mum, and the film's most effective scene (loaded with ambivalence, irony and uncertainty) takes place at a party he holds for the local children, complete with clown nose and everyday magic tricks. "I see you practice white magic as well as black." "Oh yes, I don't think it would be too amusing for the youngsters if I conjured up a demon from hell for them." There's something about the scene's utter Englishness, and its suggestion that supernatural parlour games may cloak real occult forces, that could have come straight from one of the supernatural thrillers of Charles Williams,the author who was such an influence on C.S. Lewis, (particularly in That Hideous Strength). "You know, the devil has something here. Very pleasant." "He's most dangerous when he's being pleasant."
The best way to watch DEMON may be to imagine the film as the director intended it. Let go of the producer's certainty that there is a big, nasty demon, and give Doc Holden a chance by leaving things up in the air. After all, most of us share at least a measure of his skepticism, don't we? If not about all things spiritual, at least about ghosts and demons and things that aren't the family dog but do go bump in the night. The interfering Mister Chester's "real" Scary Monster only succeeds in robbing the film's real horror any sense of reality, and that sells Jacques Tourneur's vision sadly short: he would have defined things less, left more to the imagination. As they say at the end of the film, "Maybe it's better not to know."
Also by Jacques Tourneur
Cat People (1942)
I Walked With A Zombie (1943)
Stars In My Crown (1950)
Soul Food Movies index
Thursday, October 24, 2019
talkbacks | artist talkback & theatre club: ethical quandaries in biotechnology
This week we have back to back talkbacks for Frankenstein: Lost in Darkness!
Friday is our regular artist talkback after the show with you, the audience. After our Saturday matinee is Theatre Club, where this show's topic will be Frankenstein: Ethical Quandaries in Biotechnology.
Our two speakers are Holly Faith Nelson and Dennis Venema, professors at TWU, exploring the ethics of creation within Frankenstein: Lost in Darkness. Join us after our 2pm show for the lively discussion!
Holly Faith Nelson, Phd.
Professor and Chair of the English Department at TWU, Holly's areas of expertise include early modern British literature, British civil war literature, literature of the long eighteenth century, theology and literature, and politics and literature.
Friday is our regular artist talkback after the show with you, the audience. After our Saturday matinee is Theatre Club, where this show's topic will be Frankenstein: Ethical Quandaries in Biotechnology.
Our two speakers are Holly Faith Nelson and Dennis Venema, professors at TWU, exploring the ethics of creation within Frankenstein: Lost in Darkness. Join us after our 2pm show for the lively discussion!
Professor and Chair of the English Department at TWU, Holly's areas of expertise include early modern British literature, British civil war literature, literature of the long eighteenth century, theology and literature, and politics and literature.
Dennis Venema, Phd.
Dennis' areas of expertise include developmental biology, cell and molecular biology, and genetics. He is an associate Biology professor at TWU.
susan alexander | mitchell prize
Susan Alexander is a longtime PT friend, and she's just won the Mitchell Prize for poetry. Must pick this one up - even if it didn't have a drive-in movie on the cover!
Bowen Island resident Susan Alexander has won a major literary prize. She was awarded the $20,000 Ross and Davis Mitchell Prize for her suite of poems, Vigil.
“Vigil is an outstanding collection that is highly deserving of first place,” said Lorna Goodison, a Mitchell Prize judge and acclaimed poet. “The writer is a talented and accomplished poet who handles the language of poetry with great authority, and the reader gets a strong sense that this is a voice rich in experience and wisdom. One also gets a sense that the poet speaks confidently on behalf of a large community of people; past and present, thus fulfilling one of the ancient roles of the poet as intermediary between humanity and the Divine.”
Alexander’s previous work has appeared in chapbooks, anthologies and several literary magazines. Her awards include the 2016 Short Grain poetry prize and the 2015 Vancouver Writers’ Festival Contest. She was longlisted for the 2018 CBC Poetry Prize and is currently featured on the bus in Vancouver’s Poetry in Transit. Judges selected her winning Mitchell Prize entry from among 250 nominees. The biennial Mitchell Prize seeks to recognize Canadian poets whose work wrestles with the beauty and complexity of religious faith. Three celebrated writers make up the panel of judges: Lorna Goodison, Chelene Knight, and Scott Cairns. The prize is a project of Image, a journal of contemporary art and literature, and is presented with support from think tank Cardus.
Alexander, author of The Dance Floor Tilts, has a BA in English from UBC and an MA in Theological Studies from Regent College.
Bowen Island resident Susan Alexander has won a major literary prize. She was awarded the $20,000 Ross and Davis Mitchell Prize for her suite of poems, Vigil.
“Vigil is an outstanding collection that is highly deserving of first place,” said Lorna Goodison, a Mitchell Prize judge and acclaimed poet. “The writer is a talented and accomplished poet who handles the language of poetry with great authority, and the reader gets a strong sense that this is a voice rich in experience and wisdom. One also gets a sense that the poet speaks confidently on behalf of a large community of people; past and present, thus fulfilling one of the ancient roles of the poet as intermediary between humanity and the Divine.”
Alexander’s previous work has appeared in chapbooks, anthologies and several literary magazines. Her awards include the 2016 Short Grain poetry prize and the 2015 Vancouver Writers’ Festival Contest. She was longlisted for the 2018 CBC Poetry Prize and is currently featured on the bus in Vancouver’s Poetry in Transit. Judges selected her winning Mitchell Prize entry from among 250 nominees. The biennial Mitchell Prize seeks to recognize Canadian poets whose work wrestles with the beauty and complexity of religious faith. Three celebrated writers make up the panel of judges: Lorna Goodison, Chelene Knight, and Scott Cairns. The prize is a project of Image, a journal of contemporary art and literature, and is presented with support from think tank Cardus.
Alexander, author of The Dance Floor Tilts, has a BA in English from UBC and an MA in Theological Studies from Regent College.
Wednesday, October 23, 2019
frankenstein | reflections from an audience member
A substantial piece of writing about our current show. The author, who prefers to remain anonymous, attended the preview performance and sent us this marvellous, insightful response. FRANKENSTEIN: LOST IN DARKNESS runs to Nov 2. Information and tickets at our website.
Reflections on Wireless Wings Radio Ensemble’s production of Frankenstein: Lost In Darkness
Mary Shelley famously wrote that she wanted her story of Frankenstein “to speak to the mysterious fears of our nature and awaken thrilling horror … to make the reader dread to look around, to curdle the blood, and quicken the beatings of the heart.” From the front row in last night’s performance of Frankenstein: Lost in Darkness, I did indeed feel my blood curdling and my heartbeat quickening several times during the show. Earlier, I wasn’t sure how effective a live “immersive audio drama” would be at expressing the disquieting undercurrents of a 200 year-old Gothic saga. As the four actors went through their pre-show warm-up arranging scripts on stands, prepping Foley devices, moving around in street clothes through a tangle of mic stands and cables, it was hard to imagine there’d be much magic. Yet within the first few minutes, I was fully immersed in the spell. An unnerving creepiness led me away to be lost in the darkness.
There is so much to admire in this production. The acting was raw, intense, and engaging. Tariq Leslie’s otherworldly bird calls and monstrous utterings were desperate cries from the underworld. Corina Akeson’s heart-wrenching dialogue embodied the anguish we all feel at confronting the limits and consequences of our darkest imaginings. There was added power in seeing the actors unadorned by costumes or make-up, strangely revealing the artifice of an audio drama. Scoured of convincing illusions, the naked sets, props, and equipment never let the audience slip into the comfort of unawareness. At some subterranean level, the alienation created by the visible contrivances embodied the spirit of a creator grappling with the created.
At times, I closed my eyes to experience the acoustical dimension of the play on its own. While this certainly worked and enhanced the effect of words, effects, and sound design, each time I opened my eyes again I was even more impressed to witness how the soundscape was being created. Seeing wooden implements voicing insect chirps, scrunched tin foil crackling like flames, and Diana Squires spiriting ghostly moans into a microphone didn’t shatter the acoustical magic. Rather, it enhanced the alienation effect: this is how we all simultaneously create and experience our own imagination - in dream, fantasies, or murky delusions.
The music and sound design were exceptionally effective and seductive. When the actors are just metres away – wearing tired bluejeans, reaching for audio props, sending spittle flying with exuberant projection – you’re quite aware of how the visual magic is working on you. But the audio effects operate in another dimension. They sneak in through the back door and grab you viscerally. Swooping aural atmospheres roiling like dark clouds; chilling disembodied digital effects that blindside you without any connection to wooden spoons or a vintage spinning wind machine. Again, the ingenious contrivances worked to place me in Victor Frankenstein’s soul, confronting powerful forces beyond our control. If an audience can be transported this effectively with sound, why would anyone bother capturing the story through a lens?
I wasn’t sure how I might respond to Victor being portrayed by a woman. Transposing a classical character’s gender, race, or traditional traits doesn’t always work. Yet with Corina Akeson’s first words I immediately understood why she was perfect for the role. Just as the story first came to Mary Shelley in a dream after taking part in a ghost storytelling contest improvised by Percy Shelley, Lord Byron, and other poets and partners, the drama is at its core a female narrative about a male’s dark imaginings. What better way to personify Mary Shelley’s inner Victor than for a powerful woman to tell his tale? Shelley’s demonic yet pitiable monster portrays the haunted distortion of the motherless son. Just as Frankenstein resonated with the transition from the Romantic era to the age of industrial technology, today the story also reverberates disturbingly with the incel phenomenon: repression and anger still conjure up destructive monsters armed with self-justification.
One final thought about the staging of the play. The production obviously reveals a fascination with sound. Rarely have I seen such careful attention to the acoustical nature of a stage show. Although the audio mix was rich and varied, I found myself wondering what it might be like to hear the production as though it were an actual radio show: no lights, no props, just pure sound. To that end, wouldn’t it be fantastic to have the full mix of voices, Foley effects, and digital sound design all transmitted through the mixer to wireless headphones via Bluetooth? It could simply be an optional bonus for anyone with a pair of noise-cancelling BT headphones. Yet how fantastic it would be to hear all the subtleties and nuances in this sophisticated audio masterwork with the clarity, richness, and intimacy of personal stereo? Surely it would be easy to configure. And what an experience it would provide.
Thanks to the entire production team for providing such a uniquely stimulating and thought-provoking presentation. It’s rare that a night at the theatre treats you to an experience unlike anything you’ve had before. This production of Frankenstein does that with admirable artistry. I feel lucky to have had a chance to enjoy it, up close and personal. Congratulations.
Reflections on Wireless Wings Radio Ensemble’s production of Frankenstein: Lost In Darkness
Mary Shelley famously wrote that she wanted her story of Frankenstein “to speak to the mysterious fears of our nature and awaken thrilling horror … to make the reader dread to look around, to curdle the blood, and quicken the beatings of the heart.” From the front row in last night’s performance of Frankenstein: Lost in Darkness, I did indeed feel my blood curdling and my heartbeat quickening several times during the show. Earlier, I wasn’t sure how effective a live “immersive audio drama” would be at expressing the disquieting undercurrents of a 200 year-old Gothic saga. As the four actors went through their pre-show warm-up arranging scripts on stands, prepping Foley devices, moving around in street clothes through a tangle of mic stands and cables, it was hard to imagine there’d be much magic. Yet within the first few minutes, I was fully immersed in the spell. An unnerving creepiness led me away to be lost in the darkness.
There is so much to admire in this production. The acting was raw, intense, and engaging. Tariq Leslie’s otherworldly bird calls and monstrous utterings were desperate cries from the underworld. Corina Akeson’s heart-wrenching dialogue embodied the anguish we all feel at confronting the limits and consequences of our darkest imaginings. There was added power in seeing the actors unadorned by costumes or make-up, strangely revealing the artifice of an audio drama. Scoured of convincing illusions, the naked sets, props, and equipment never let the audience slip into the comfort of unawareness. At some subterranean level, the alienation created by the visible contrivances embodied the spirit of a creator grappling with the created.
At times, I closed my eyes to experience the acoustical dimension of the play on its own. While this certainly worked and enhanced the effect of words, effects, and sound design, each time I opened my eyes again I was even more impressed to witness how the soundscape was being created. Seeing wooden implements voicing insect chirps, scrunched tin foil crackling like flames, and Diana Squires spiriting ghostly moans into a microphone didn’t shatter the acoustical magic. Rather, it enhanced the alienation effect: this is how we all simultaneously create and experience our own imagination - in dream, fantasies, or murky delusions.
The music and sound design were exceptionally effective and seductive. When the actors are just metres away – wearing tired bluejeans, reaching for audio props, sending spittle flying with exuberant projection – you’re quite aware of how the visual magic is working on you. But the audio effects operate in another dimension. They sneak in through the back door and grab you viscerally. Swooping aural atmospheres roiling like dark clouds; chilling disembodied digital effects that blindside you without any connection to wooden spoons or a vintage spinning wind machine. Again, the ingenious contrivances worked to place me in Victor Frankenstein’s soul, confronting powerful forces beyond our control. If an audience can be transported this effectively with sound, why would anyone bother capturing the story through a lens?
I wasn’t sure how I might respond to Victor being portrayed by a woman. Transposing a classical character’s gender, race, or traditional traits doesn’t always work. Yet with Corina Akeson’s first words I immediately understood why she was perfect for the role. Just as the story first came to Mary Shelley in a dream after taking part in a ghost storytelling contest improvised by Percy Shelley, Lord Byron, and other poets and partners, the drama is at its core a female narrative about a male’s dark imaginings. What better way to personify Mary Shelley’s inner Victor than for a powerful woman to tell his tale? Shelley’s demonic yet pitiable monster portrays the haunted distortion of the motherless son. Just as Frankenstein resonated with the transition from the Romantic era to the age of industrial technology, today the story also reverberates disturbingly with the incel phenomenon: repression and anger still conjure up destructive monsters armed with self-justification.
One final thought about the staging of the play. The production obviously reveals a fascination with sound. Rarely have I seen such careful attention to the acoustical nature of a stage show. Although the audio mix was rich and varied, I found myself wondering what it might be like to hear the production as though it were an actual radio show: no lights, no props, just pure sound. To that end, wouldn’t it be fantastic to have the full mix of voices, Foley effects, and digital sound design all transmitted through the mixer to wireless headphones via Bluetooth? It could simply be an optional bonus for anyone with a pair of noise-cancelling BT headphones. Yet how fantastic it would be to hear all the subtleties and nuances in this sophisticated audio masterwork with the clarity, richness, and intimacy of personal stereo? Surely it would be easy to configure. And what an experience it would provide.
Thanks to the entire production team for providing such a uniquely stimulating and thought-provoking presentation. It’s rare that a night at the theatre treats you to an experience unlike anything you’ve had before. This production of Frankenstein does that with admirable artistry. I feel lucky to have had a chance to enjoy it, up close and personal. Congratulations.
Wednesday, October 16, 2019
oct 18 | sojourners | cd release concert
Sorry, Soul Food pals! I've been away a couple weeks, basking in the glories of New England fall colours, exploring the fine burgs of Boston, Montreal, and North Hatley, and revelling in the season closer at Fenway! But I've now returned to my post, just in time to give you quick (if late) notice of what will be a splendid evening of gospel music this Friday night. So if you can't make it to the opening of FRANKENSTEIN...
The Sojourners were formed by producer Steve Dawson (or maybe by Jim Byrnes himself? depending which origin story you subscribe to) to provide vocals on one of my favourite recordings of 2006, Jim Byrnes' gospel-centred HOUSE OF REFUGE. (We used some of those tunes in TESTAMENT, a couple years back.) They're splendid live. And if you can't make it to the concert, it's probably a mighty fine record to pick up...
Freedom Never Dies EP Release show
October 18, 2019
St James Hall | 3214 West 10th Ave
tickets
facebook
The Sojourners were formed by producer Steve Dawson (or maybe by Jim Byrnes himself? depending which origin story you subscribe to) to provide vocals on one of my favourite recordings of 2006, Jim Byrnes' gospel-centred HOUSE OF REFUGE. (We used some of those tunes in TESTAMENT, a couple years back.) They're splendid live. And if you can't make it to the concert, it's probably a mighty fine record to pick up...
Freedom Never Dies EP Release show
October 18, 2019
St James Hall | 3214 West 10th Ave
tickets
Tuesday, September 24, 2019
mother of the maid | responses
I'm going to do something a little different here. I'll give you snippets of a couple reviews, and then print Steven Gomez's piece in full because I think it's such a fine piece of writing. It does what critics do at their best, enhancing the value of my own experience with the writer's own rich insights about the production. It appreciates the work - not only in the sense that it finds value in the work, but also in the sense that it adds value, just as the value of a rare book or a treasured work of art appreciates in value as time goes by.
"Anita Wittenberg delivers a powerful performance. She gives Isabelle a near perfect balance of maternal love, fear, and exasperation. While Wittenberg feeds off the equally polished performances of Ian Butcher as husband Jacques and Raes Calvert as son Pierre, it is unsurprising that the biggest emotional connection comes during scenes with daughter Joan. Played with mesmerizing clarity by Shona Struthers, this emerging actor last seen at Pacific Theatre in the ensemble piece The Wolves in 2018, is one to watch. Struthers is so convincing here as “The Maid of Orléans” you’ll almost wish the playwright gave her more stage time. A welcome start to Vancouver’s theatre season. Uniquely satisfying."
Mark Robins, Vancouver Presents
"Truly great scenes... Both Anita Wittenberg as Isabelle and Shona Struthers as Joan are at their best portraying these moments of profound grief; their final scene together, as Isabelle dresses Joan for the gallows, distills the spirit of the entire play into one heartbreaking scene, pulled off wonderfully. It’s Struthers who really brings it home here, when Joan’s courage finally breaks and she just disintegrates with terror. It’s so hard to watch, and so remarkable."
Katherine Dornian, The Georgia Strait
"A powerful start to the season! Every mother of every child who charges towards independence in those glorious, infuriating and cocky adolescent years was on stage."
Lorri Romhanyi, audience
*
As Strong as Death
Mother of the Maid at Pacific Theatre
by Steven Gomez
There are some complicated saints in the official canon lists. Among them is Joan of Arc, the French teenager who, if she lived today, would be labelled a religious extremist for proclaiming God had commanded her to go forth and slaughter the English. No doubt many a tourist who’s tried to ride the Tube feels the same way, but they’re not so fanatic as to do it. Joan is a complicated part of Christian history, one that tends to offend modern sensibilities when we consider her in the abstract.
So imagine what it was like to be her mother; to consider Joan not in the abstract, but as part of your own body; to have always the awareness of the umbilical cord that binds you irrevocably together, even to the stake.
Jane Anderson’s Mother of the Maid, receiving its Canadian premiere at Pacific Theatre this fall, makes that imaginative leap and then some. The modern style of dialogue is at first a bit jarring for those used to the elevated diction of a typical period piece, but it keeps us firmly out of abstractions and lets us feel the complicated reality.
Joan (Shona Struthers) tells her mother Isabelle (Anita Wittenberg) about her visions of St. Catherine as though they were having the Talk, or even as though she were coming out, and we at once know this could be our family. Someone breaking the mold is difficult for any family to take. And, as usual, the mother is the rock on which everyone stands.
What takes more strength: to march an army into battle against overwhelming odds, or to walk three hundred miles in the mud just to see your daughter at court? To let the enemy execute you as a martyr, or to bathe your daughter for the last time in her prison cell, giving her the news from home, before they take her away? By the curtain call, I had no doubt which of these women was the real martyr.
We know, of course, where the story goes. Tragedies are not known for their plot twists. But here the tragedy is not Joan’s but Isabelle’s, who is chained to the “Maid of Orléans” not by faith in her miracles or her mission, but by her own will and love. Love, says the Bible, is as strong as death. It’s a chain that cannot be broken by anything but fire, and truly not even then. It’s what gives Isabelle her strength and even her reason for being; it pulls her through the narrative and she submits with disarming matter-of-factness. She knows what love is and doesn’t balk at its demands.
The whole cast does a fine turn, with honest performances of relatable characters, and the most important role of all is also the best. Wittenberg fully realizes Isabelle’s emotional scope as she’s thrown around by “God and his bloody plans”, reminding us from beginning to end that a saint’s piety doesn’t hold a candle to a mother’s devotion. And as she screams her daughter’s name for the last time, we know with absolute assurance that she is the one being burned alive.
Reprinted from EtCetera
"Anita Wittenberg delivers a powerful performance. She gives Isabelle a near perfect balance of maternal love, fear, and exasperation. While Wittenberg feeds off the equally polished performances of Ian Butcher as husband Jacques and Raes Calvert as son Pierre, it is unsurprising that the biggest emotional connection comes during scenes with daughter Joan. Played with mesmerizing clarity by Shona Struthers, this emerging actor last seen at Pacific Theatre in the ensemble piece The Wolves in 2018, is one to watch. Struthers is so convincing here as “The Maid of Orléans” you’ll almost wish the playwright gave her more stage time. A welcome start to Vancouver’s theatre season. Uniquely satisfying."
Mark Robins, Vancouver Presents
"Truly great scenes... Both Anita Wittenberg as Isabelle and Shona Struthers as Joan are at their best portraying these moments of profound grief; their final scene together, as Isabelle dresses Joan for the gallows, distills the spirit of the entire play into one heartbreaking scene, pulled off wonderfully. It’s Struthers who really brings it home here, when Joan’s courage finally breaks and she just disintegrates with terror. It’s so hard to watch, and so remarkable."
Katherine Dornian, The Georgia Strait
"A powerful start to the season! Every mother of every child who charges towards independence in those glorious, infuriating and cocky adolescent years was on stage."
Lorri Romhanyi, audience
*
As Strong as Death
Mother of the Maid at Pacific Theatre
by Steven Gomez
There are some complicated saints in the official canon lists. Among them is Joan of Arc, the French teenager who, if she lived today, would be labelled a religious extremist for proclaiming God had commanded her to go forth and slaughter the English. No doubt many a tourist who’s tried to ride the Tube feels the same way, but they’re not so fanatic as to do it. Joan is a complicated part of Christian history, one that tends to offend modern sensibilities when we consider her in the abstract.
So imagine what it was like to be her mother; to consider Joan not in the abstract, but as part of your own body; to have always the awareness of the umbilical cord that binds you irrevocably together, even to the stake.
Jane Anderson’s Mother of the Maid, receiving its Canadian premiere at Pacific Theatre this fall, makes that imaginative leap and then some. The modern style of dialogue is at first a bit jarring for those used to the elevated diction of a typical period piece, but it keeps us firmly out of abstractions and lets us feel the complicated reality.
Joan (Shona Struthers) tells her mother Isabelle (Anita Wittenberg) about her visions of St. Catherine as though they were having the Talk, or even as though she were coming out, and we at once know this could be our family. Someone breaking the mold is difficult for any family to take. And, as usual, the mother is the rock on which everyone stands.
What takes more strength: to march an army into battle against overwhelming odds, or to walk three hundred miles in the mud just to see your daughter at court? To let the enemy execute you as a martyr, or to bathe your daughter for the last time in her prison cell, giving her the news from home, before they take her away? By the curtain call, I had no doubt which of these women was the real martyr.
We know, of course, where the story goes. Tragedies are not known for their plot twists. But here the tragedy is not Joan’s but Isabelle’s, who is chained to the “Maid of Orléans” not by faith in her miracles or her mission, but by her own will and love. Love, says the Bible, is as strong as death. It’s a chain that cannot be broken by anything but fire, and truly not even then. It’s what gives Isabelle her strength and even her reason for being; it pulls her through the narrative and she submits with disarming matter-of-factness. She knows what love is and doesn’t balk at its demands.
The whole cast does a fine turn, with honest performances of relatable characters, and the most important role of all is also the best. Wittenberg fully realizes Isabelle’s emotional scope as she’s thrown around by “God and his bloody plans”, reminding us from beginning to end that a saint’s piety doesn’t hold a candle to a mother’s devotion. And as she screams her daughter’s name for the last time, we know with absolute assurance that she is the one being burned alive.
Reprinted from EtCetera
oct 11 | eisenhauers | bez arts hub
The Eisenhauers are PT favourites. before relocating to the Interior a few years back, Sheree Plett and Jeremy Eisenhauer played a lot of Christmas Presences, and were the musicians in Jesus My Boy. They'll be back in the Lower Mainland October 11, playing at the intimate Bez Arts Hub in Langley. As always, they're in town when I'm not! So I'll have to rely on you to enjoy them on my behalf.
THE EISENHAUERS
fri oct 11 @ 8pm
#102 20230 64th Ave, Langley, British Columbia V2Y 1N3
(604) 881-2426
hello@bezartshub.com
tickets
THE EISENHAUERS
fri oct 11 @ 8pm
#102 20230 64th Ave, Langley, British Columbia V2Y 1N3
(604) 881-2426
hello@bezartshub.com
tickets
Friday, September 20, 2019
karina svalya paintings | dal schindell gallery | regent college
There's a stunning exhibition of new paintings at the Dal Schindell Gallery. The artist is Karina Svalya, who I met in the Vocation Of The Artist seminar a few years back when I co-taught it with Loren Wilkinson. Large, vivid, painterly studies of African wildlife. Truly extraordinary work. If anything takes you out to the UBC campus - such as, for example, a visit to the Regent Bookstore, the largest theological book shop on the continent - you must make a point of viewing these remarkable works. I attended the opening, but intend to return soon when I can spend more time in the presence of these extraordinary paintings.
ON THE SIXTH DAY
by Karina Svalya
sep 11 - oct 9 | mon-fri 8:30-5, sat 12-4
dal schindell gallery, regent college
5800 university boulevard, vancouver
This exhibition features large scale portraits in oil of safari animals, giraffes, zebras, elephants, rhino, and lions.
ON THE SIXTH DAY
by Karina Svalya
sep 11 - oct 9 | mon-fri 8:30-5, sat 12-4
dal schindell gallery, regent college
5800 university boulevard, vancouver
This exhibition features large scale portraits in oil of safari animals, giraffes, zebras, elephants, rhino, and lions.
Thursday, September 19, 2019
a feast of soul food movies at VIFF
I don't think I've ever seen such a line-up of Soul Food Movies at the Vancouver International Film Festival! Terrence Malick can be extraordinary or extraordinarily bad, but his new film looks to me like it might well land solidly in the first of those two categories - which can even mean "masterpiece." There's a Joan of Arc film, an exciting companion piece to Mother of the Maid onstage now at Pacific Theatre; a non-doc about one of my living Christian heroes, Bryan Stevenson, and another about his spiritual ancestor, Harriet Tubman; and a fictionalized portrait of Pope Benedict and almost-Pope Francis, played by Anthony Hopkins and Jonathan Pryce, directed by Fernando Meirelles, whose City of God I consider the first truly great film of the 21st century. A true cinematic feast for the soul!
A HIDDEN LIFE
sun sep 29 @ 8:45 | the centre
"Described by critics as a return to the narratively driven style of cinematic milestones like The Thin Red Line and Days of Heaven, the new masterpiece by visionary filmmaker Terrence Malick tells the powerful and transcendent true story of Franz Jägerstätter (August Diehl), an Austrian farmer, devout Catholic, and conscripted soldier who, famously, refused to fight for the Nazis during WWII and bore the terrifying consequences of this moral fortitude. It is his unwavering faith and his love for his wife Fani (Valerie Pachner) and children that keep his spiritual beliefs intact.
"In the remote village of Radegund, Franz leads an Edenic existence with Fani and their three children, seemingly unaware of the fact that the Nazis are on the rise. When Franz refuses to fight for the Third Reich, his tight-knit community turns against him and his family. But he remains resolute in his convictions: he will not fight, and will certainly not pledge allegiance to Hitler. Hailed as Malick’s best film since 2011’s The Tree of Life, this will not only rank among the director’s most poetic works but also, perhaps unsurprisingly, be considered one of his most politically prescient as well.
"The Tree of Life spanned eons to capture the entirety of existence, and while the filmmaker works on a tighter four-year canvas this time around, the feeling that the stakes are nothing less than the soul of all humanity has persisted. This is art of salvation." - Charles Bramesco, The Playlist
Ecumenical Jury Prize, Cannes 19
sat sep 28 @ 9pm | cinematheque
wed oct 2 @ 1pm | vancity
"How, in the early 1400s, did a teenage peasant girl amaze, frighten, and galvanize the Christian world? This is the central mystery of Bruno Dumont’s depiction of the titular saint, stridently un-Hollywood-ized – different from any other depiction of Joan of Arc, in fact – but very sharply and purposefully focused. What does he focus on? Northern France’s windswept coastal landscapes. Towering Christian cathedrals (here Amiens, immense and luminous). The faces, odd mannerisms, and period logic of the villagers, soldiers, and religious patriarchy. The indelible, shining performance of Lise Leplat Prudhomme as a girl who had a vision.
"Just as Joan of Arc claimed to be guided by divine voices… Dumont has always followed promptings entirely alien to the usual logic of European art cinema… Dumont evokes the war sparely with an extraordinary equestrian ballet, as the French cavalry go through their pre-battle paces - sometimes shot directly from above as the horses form elaborate patterns, it’s a mesmerising sequence, giving the film a flavour that’s equal parts Brecht, Bresson and Busby Berkeley… The cathedral scenes also feature a genuine coup de cinéma in the form of a featured appearance by Christophe, the revered, weird, veteran of French chanson, who at 73, combines the voice of a choirboy with the weathered face of an ancient druid. He also provides the film’s lushly heroic score… Dumont’s boldest move, and the one that provides the film’s emotive drive, is the casting of 10-year-old Lise Leplat Prudhomme as Joan… It’s her presence as an embodiment of innocent, unbending will that gives the film its most persuasive meaning." - Jonathan Romney, Screen
Jury’s Special Mention, Un Certain Regard, Cannes 19
JUST MERCY
sun sep 28 @ 9pm
"A powerful and thought-provoking true story, Just Mercy follows young lawyer Bryan Stevenson and his history-making battle for justice. After graduating from Harvard, Bryan had his pick of lucrative jobs. Instead, he headed to Alabama to defend those either wrongly condemned or too poor to afford proper representation, with the support of local advocate Eva Ansley. One of his first, and most incendiary, cases is that of Walter McMillian, who, in 1987, was sentenced to die for the notorious murder of an 18-year-old girl, despite a preponderance of evidence proving his innocence and the fact that the only testimony against him came from a criminal with a motive to lie. In the years that follow, Bryan becomes embroiled in a labyrinth of legal and political maneuverings and overt and unabashed racism as he fights for Walter, and others like him, with the odds - and the system - stacked against them."
HARRIET
sat oct 5 @ 3:00 | the centre
"I have heard their groans and sighs, and seen their tears, and I would give every drop of blood in my veins to free them." - Harriet Tubman
In the first major motion picture about one of the greatest American heroes, director Kasi Lemmons and co-writer Gregory Allen Howard present Tubman’s larger-than-life story as a triumphant, stirring ode to the abolitionist icon. Surviving under slavery in 1840s Maryland, Minty Ross escapes and finds her way across 100 miles to freedom in Philadelphia, and takes up her free name: Harriet Tubman.
Not content to enjoy her own newfound freedom, Harriet confronts the horrors of slavery with a relentless determination, and, armed with visions from God, returns time and time again to her enslaved brothers and sisters, freeing more than 70 people through the Underground Railroad. Operating under the moniker "Moses," she leads an exodus that does not go unnoticed by the slaveowners, who are hellbent on stopping her at any cost. Ultimately, this is a powerful film built upon Harriet’s courage, ingenuity, and tenacity, which led to freedom for hundreds of slaves and changed the course of history.
"[Harriet] leans into the excitement of Tubman’s mission so energetically it almost morphs into a heist picture, dredging up odd romantic and religious energies along the way." - K. Austin Collins, Vanity Fair
THE TWO POPES
sun oct 6 @ 2:30 | vancouver playhouse
mon oct 7 @ 6:00 | the centre
It’s 2013 and the winds of change are blowing through the Vatican. Having lived his life to the letter of the gospel, conservative Pope Benedict (Anthony Hopkins) prepares to cede the papacy to Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio (Jonathan Pryce), who aims to take a more progressive approach in leading the Catholic Church and its flock of over a billion faithful. These two men of the cloth are, well, hardly cut from the same cloth, ensuring that this transfer of power will be a bumpy ride as they weigh in on - and butt heads about - their respective stands on what their fellowship requires in an era of epochal change.
Demonstrating both a keen understanding of, and deep respect for, the responsibilities that accompany such a hallowed station, director Fernando Meirelles (City of God) and screenwriter Anthony McCarten (Darkest Hour) succeed in humanizing the film’s central figures, reminding us at every turn that these are fallible men trying to balance doctrine with their own world views. Unsurprisingly, much of the credit for the film’s success rests with the titanic talents occupying the headlining roles. As Hopkins and Pryce spar over the respective merits of integrity and adaptability, divinely comic sparks fly, lending the film’s insights an incandescent glow.
A HIDDEN LIFE
sun sep 29 @ 8:45 | the centre
"Described by critics as a return to the narratively driven style of cinematic milestones like The Thin Red Line and Days of Heaven, the new masterpiece by visionary filmmaker Terrence Malick tells the powerful and transcendent true story of Franz Jägerstätter (August Diehl), an Austrian farmer, devout Catholic, and conscripted soldier who, famously, refused to fight for the Nazis during WWII and bore the terrifying consequences of this moral fortitude. It is his unwavering faith and his love for his wife Fani (Valerie Pachner) and children that keep his spiritual beliefs intact.
"In the remote village of Radegund, Franz leads an Edenic existence with Fani and their three children, seemingly unaware of the fact that the Nazis are on the rise. When Franz refuses to fight for the Third Reich, his tight-knit community turns against him and his family. But he remains resolute in his convictions: he will not fight, and will certainly not pledge allegiance to Hitler. Hailed as Malick’s best film since 2011’s The Tree of Life, this will not only rank among the director’s most poetic works but also, perhaps unsurprisingly, be considered one of his most politically prescient as well.
"The Tree of Life spanned eons to capture the entirety of existence, and while the filmmaker works on a tighter four-year canvas this time around, the feeling that the stakes are nothing less than the soul of all humanity has persisted. This is art of salvation." - Charles Bramesco, The Playlist
Ecumenical Jury Prize, Cannes 19
wed oct 2 @ 1pm | vancity
"How, in the early 1400s, did a teenage peasant girl amaze, frighten, and galvanize the Christian world? This is the central mystery of Bruno Dumont’s depiction of the titular saint, stridently un-Hollywood-ized – different from any other depiction of Joan of Arc, in fact – but very sharply and purposefully focused. What does he focus on? Northern France’s windswept coastal landscapes. Towering Christian cathedrals (here Amiens, immense and luminous). The faces, odd mannerisms, and period logic of the villagers, soldiers, and religious patriarchy. The indelible, shining performance of Lise Leplat Prudhomme as a girl who had a vision.
"Just as Joan of Arc claimed to be guided by divine voices… Dumont has always followed promptings entirely alien to the usual logic of European art cinema… Dumont evokes the war sparely with an extraordinary equestrian ballet, as the French cavalry go through their pre-battle paces - sometimes shot directly from above as the horses form elaborate patterns, it’s a mesmerising sequence, giving the film a flavour that’s equal parts Brecht, Bresson and Busby Berkeley… The cathedral scenes also feature a genuine coup de cinéma in the form of a featured appearance by Christophe, the revered, weird, veteran of French chanson, who at 73, combines the voice of a choirboy with the weathered face of an ancient druid. He also provides the film’s lushly heroic score… Dumont’s boldest move, and the one that provides the film’s emotive drive, is the casting of 10-year-old Lise Leplat Prudhomme as Joan… It’s her presence as an embodiment of innocent, unbending will that gives the film its most persuasive meaning." - Jonathan Romney, Screen
Jury’s Special Mention, Un Certain Regard, Cannes 19
JUST MERCY
sun sep 28 @ 9pm
"A powerful and thought-provoking true story, Just Mercy follows young lawyer Bryan Stevenson and his history-making battle for justice. After graduating from Harvard, Bryan had his pick of lucrative jobs. Instead, he headed to Alabama to defend those either wrongly condemned or too poor to afford proper representation, with the support of local advocate Eva Ansley. One of his first, and most incendiary, cases is that of Walter McMillian, who, in 1987, was sentenced to die for the notorious murder of an 18-year-old girl, despite a preponderance of evidence proving his innocence and the fact that the only testimony against him came from a criminal with a motive to lie. In the years that follow, Bryan becomes embroiled in a labyrinth of legal and political maneuverings and overt and unabashed racism as he fights for Walter, and others like him, with the odds - and the system - stacked against them."
HARRIET
sat oct 5 @ 3:00 | the centre
"I have heard their groans and sighs, and seen their tears, and I would give every drop of blood in my veins to free them." - Harriet Tubman
In the first major motion picture about one of the greatest American heroes, director Kasi Lemmons and co-writer Gregory Allen Howard present Tubman’s larger-than-life story as a triumphant, stirring ode to the abolitionist icon. Surviving under slavery in 1840s Maryland, Minty Ross escapes and finds her way across 100 miles to freedom in Philadelphia, and takes up her free name: Harriet Tubman.
Not content to enjoy her own newfound freedom, Harriet confronts the horrors of slavery with a relentless determination, and, armed with visions from God, returns time and time again to her enslaved brothers and sisters, freeing more than 70 people through the Underground Railroad. Operating under the moniker "Moses," she leads an exodus that does not go unnoticed by the slaveowners, who are hellbent on stopping her at any cost. Ultimately, this is a powerful film built upon Harriet’s courage, ingenuity, and tenacity, which led to freedom for hundreds of slaves and changed the course of history.
"[Harriet] leans into the excitement of Tubman’s mission so energetically it almost morphs into a heist picture, dredging up odd romantic and religious energies along the way." - K. Austin Collins, Vanity Fair
THE TWO POPES
sun oct 6 @ 2:30 | vancouver playhouse
mon oct 7 @ 6:00 | the centre
It’s 2013 and the winds of change are blowing through the Vatican. Having lived his life to the letter of the gospel, conservative Pope Benedict (Anthony Hopkins) prepares to cede the papacy to Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio (Jonathan Pryce), who aims to take a more progressive approach in leading the Catholic Church and its flock of over a billion faithful. These two men of the cloth are, well, hardly cut from the same cloth, ensuring that this transfer of power will be a bumpy ride as they weigh in on - and butt heads about - their respective stands on what their fellowship requires in an era of epochal change.
Demonstrating both a keen understanding of, and deep respect for, the responsibilities that accompany such a hallowed station, director Fernando Meirelles (City of God) and screenwriter Anthony McCarten (Darkest Hour) succeed in humanizing the film’s central figures, reminding us at every turn that these are fallible men trying to balance doctrine with their own world views. Unsurprisingly, much of the credit for the film’s success rests with the titanic talents occupying the headlining roles. As Hopkins and Pryce spar over the respective merits of integrity and adaptability, divinely comic sparks fly, lending the film’s insights an incandescent glow.
steven gomez on mother of the maid
I particularly like this piece on Mother of the Maid, playing at Pacific Theatre through Oct 5. A thoughtful reflection on the play as much as a consumer report, this is the sort of review I treasure - one that enhances my appreciation of the piece as I recollect it, an opportunity to think back on a rich experience and have it deepen.
As Strong as Death:
Mother of the Maid at Pacific Theatre
by Steven Gomez
etcetera
There are some complicated saints in the official canon lists. Among them is Joan of Arc, the French teenager who, if she lived today, would be labelled a religious extremist for proclaiming God had commanded her to go forth and slaughter the English. No doubt many a tourist who’s tried to ride the Tube feels the same way, but they’re not so fanatic as to do it. Joan is a complicated part of Christian history, one that tends to offend modern sensibilities when we consider her in the abstract.
So imagine what it was like to be her mother; to consider Joan not in the abstract, but as part of your own body; to have always the awareness of the umbilical cord that binds you irrevocably together, even to the stake.
Jane Anderson’s Mother of the Maid, receiving its Canadian premiere at Pacific Theatre this fall, makes that imaginative leap and then some. The modern style of dialogue is at first a bit jarring for those used to the elevated diction of a typical period piece, but it keeps us firmly out of abstractions and lets us feel the complicated reality.
Joan (Shona Struthers) tells her mother Isabelle (Anita Wittenberg) about her visions of St. Catherine as though they were having the Talk, or even as though she were coming out, and we at once know this could be our family. Someone breaking the mold is difficult for any family to take. And, as usual, the mother is the rock on which everyone stands.
What takes more strength: to march an army into battle against overwhelming odds, or to walk three hundred miles in the mud just to see your daughter at court? To let the enemy execute you as a martyr, or to bathe your daughter for the last time in her prison cell, giving her the news from home, before they take her away? By the curtain call, I had no doubt which of these women was the real martyr.
We know, of course, where the story goes. Tragedies are not known for their plot twists. But here the tragedy is not Joan’s but Isabelle’s, who is chained to the “Maid of Orléans” not by faith in her miracles or her mission, but by her own will and love. Love, says the Bible, is as strong as death. It’s a chain that cannot be broken by anything but fire, and truly not even then. It’s what gives Isabelle her strength and even her reason for being; it pulls her through the narrative and she submits with disarming matter-of-factness. She knows what love is and doesn’t balk at its demands.
The whole cast does a fine turn, with honest performances of relatable characters, and the most important role of all is also the best. Wittenberg fully realizes Isabelle’s emotional scope as she’s thrown around by “God and his bloody plans”, reminding us from beginning to end that a saint’s piety doesn’t hold a candle to a mother’s devotion. And as she screams her daughter’s name for the last time, we know with absolute assurance that she is the one being burned alive.
Mother of the Maid is a grand opening to Pacific Theatre’s season, running until October 5. Tickets are available at the PT website
As Strong as Death:
Mother of the Maid at Pacific Theatre
by Steven Gomez
etcetera
There are some complicated saints in the official canon lists. Among them is Joan of Arc, the French teenager who, if she lived today, would be labelled a religious extremist for proclaiming God had commanded her to go forth and slaughter the English. No doubt many a tourist who’s tried to ride the Tube feels the same way, but they’re not so fanatic as to do it. Joan is a complicated part of Christian history, one that tends to offend modern sensibilities when we consider her in the abstract.
So imagine what it was like to be her mother; to consider Joan not in the abstract, but as part of your own body; to have always the awareness of the umbilical cord that binds you irrevocably together, even to the stake.
Jane Anderson’s Mother of the Maid, receiving its Canadian premiere at Pacific Theatre this fall, makes that imaginative leap and then some. The modern style of dialogue is at first a bit jarring for those used to the elevated diction of a typical period piece, but it keeps us firmly out of abstractions and lets us feel the complicated reality.
Joan (Shona Struthers) tells her mother Isabelle (Anita Wittenberg) about her visions of St. Catherine as though they were having the Talk, or even as though she were coming out, and we at once know this could be our family. Someone breaking the mold is difficult for any family to take. And, as usual, the mother is the rock on which everyone stands.
What takes more strength: to march an army into battle against overwhelming odds, or to walk three hundred miles in the mud just to see your daughter at court? To let the enemy execute you as a martyr, or to bathe your daughter for the last time in her prison cell, giving her the news from home, before they take her away? By the curtain call, I had no doubt which of these women was the real martyr.
We know, of course, where the story goes. Tragedies are not known for their plot twists. But here the tragedy is not Joan’s but Isabelle’s, who is chained to the “Maid of Orléans” not by faith in her miracles or her mission, but by her own will and love. Love, says the Bible, is as strong as death. It’s a chain that cannot be broken by anything but fire, and truly not even then. It’s what gives Isabelle her strength and even her reason for being; it pulls her through the narrative and she submits with disarming matter-of-factness. She knows what love is and doesn’t balk at its demands.
The whole cast does a fine turn, with honest performances of relatable characters, and the most important role of all is also the best. Wittenberg fully realizes Isabelle’s emotional scope as she’s thrown around by “God and his bloody plans”, reminding us from beginning to end that a saint’s piety doesn’t hold a candle to a mother’s devotion. And as she screams her daughter’s name for the last time, we know with absolute assurance that she is the one being burned alive.
Mother of the Maid is a grand opening to Pacific Theatre’s season, running until October 5. Tickets are available at the PT website
Wednesday, September 18, 2019
sep 29 | terrence malick | a hidden life | viff
When Terrence Malick is on his game, he makes masterpieces. Badlands, Days of Heaven, Tree of Life. His new film debuted at Cannes, where it won the Ecumenical Jury Prize, and is widely considered his best since Tree of Life in 2011. It plays in the Vancouver International Film Festival on September 29. Tickets here.
Described by critics as a return to the narratively driven style of cinematic milestones like The Thin Red Line and Days of Heaven, the new masterpiece by visionary filmmaker Terrence Malick tells the powerful and transcendent true story of Franz Jägerstätter (August Diehl), an Austrian farmer, devout Catholic, and conscripted soldier who, famously, refused to fight for the Nazis during WWII and bore the terrifying consequences of this moral fortitude. It is his unwavering faith and his love for his wife Fani (Valerie Pachner) and children that keep his spiritual beliefs intact.
In the remote village of Radegund, Franz leads an Edenic existence with Fani and their three children, seemingly unaware of the fact that the Nazis are on the rise. When Franz refuses to fight for the Third Reich, his tight-knit community turns against him and his family. But he remains resolute in his convictions: he will not fight, and will certainly not pledge allegiance to Hitler. Hailed as Malick’s best film since 2011’s The Tree of Life, this will not only rank among the director’s most poetic works but also, perhaps unsurprisingly, be considered one of his most politically prescient as well.
"The Tree of Life spanned eons to capture the entirety of existence, and while the filmmaker works on a tighter four-year canvas this time around, the feeling that the stakes are nothing less than the soul of all humanity has persisted. This is art of salvation." Charles Bramesco, The Playlist
VIFF
Described by critics as a return to the narratively driven style of cinematic milestones like The Thin Red Line and Days of Heaven, the new masterpiece by visionary filmmaker Terrence Malick tells the powerful and transcendent true story of Franz Jägerstätter (August Diehl), an Austrian farmer, devout Catholic, and conscripted soldier who, famously, refused to fight for the Nazis during WWII and bore the terrifying consequences of this moral fortitude. It is his unwavering faith and his love for his wife Fani (Valerie Pachner) and children that keep his spiritual beliefs intact.
In the remote village of Radegund, Franz leads an Edenic existence with Fani and their three children, seemingly unaware of the fact that the Nazis are on the rise. When Franz refuses to fight for the Third Reich, his tight-knit community turns against him and his family. But he remains resolute in his convictions: he will not fight, and will certainly not pledge allegiance to Hitler. Hailed as Malick’s best film since 2011’s The Tree of Life, this will not only rank among the director’s most poetic works but also, perhaps unsurprisingly, be considered one of his most politically prescient as well.
"The Tree of Life spanned eons to capture the entirety of existence, and while the filmmaker works on a tighter four-year canvas this time around, the feeling that the stakes are nothing less than the soul of all humanity has persisted. This is art of salvation." Charles Bramesco, The Playlist
VIFF
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