The Vancouver International Film Festival runs Sept. 25 to Oct. 10. For details, go to viff.org.
Glen Campbell: I’ll Be Me
Sept. 27 at International Village, Oct. 1 at Vancouver Playhouse
As intimate a portrait of Alzheimer’s as you’ll get, Glen Campbell: I’ll Be Me follows the country music legend and his family on Campbell’s 151-show farewell tour shortly after being diagnosed with the debilitating disease. And while there are some uncomfortable moments as the effects of Alzheimer’s takes hold, the film feels less like watching a car wreck and more of a celebration of Campbell’s talents, family, supportive fans and the transcending power of music. Despite the employment of some overused music documentary tropes such as talking head testimonials from members of U2 and the recording of a new song as the film’s conclusion, it’s a moving portrait of a man who can play a note-perfect rendition of “Duelling Banjos” with his daughter but forget her name by the time he walks off stage.
The Possibilities are Endless
Sept. 25 at Vancity, Sept. 30 at Cinematheque, Oct. 1 at International Village
In 2005, lyrically gifted frontman of Scottish post-punk band Orange Juice and solo artist Edwyn Collins suffered two strokes, partially paralyzing one side of his body and reducing his vocabulary to “yes,” “no,” his wife’s name and the phrase “the possibilities endless,” which he would repeat dozens of times a day. James Hall and Edward Lovelace’s mesmerizing documentary is both haunting and poetic. Artfully shot images of the weather-beaten Scottish coast intricately woven together with voiceovers from Collins and his wife immerse the viewer in the musician’s struggle to hold onto and rediscover some semblance of his former self. And while it’s dark and weighty at times, the film has a sweetness to it as the camera shifts focus to Collins’ recovery and his enduring relationship with his wife, appropriately named Grace.
The Past is a Grotesque Animal
Sept. 25 at Vancity, Oct. 3 at International Village
Kevin Barnes is the mad genius behind the psychedelic pop group Of Montreal, which emerged in Athens, Georgia in the early ’90s as part of the Elephant Six scene and blossomed into its own Technicolor butterfly, amassing legions of devoted fans including Solange Knowles (Beyonce’s sister) and, inexplicably, actress Susan Sarandon. And while Barnes’s talent and drive is undeniable, he doesn’t exactly evoke the warmest of feelings, possibly because he doesn’t appear to exhibit any, whether he’s talking about the revolving door of musicians in his band or his estrangement from his Norwegian wife and mother of his child. Jason Miller’s doc efficiently captures the band’s evolution from low-fi bedroom project to absurdist musical performance art to rave party spectacle. With Barnes clearly in the driver’s seat of his magic bus, Of Montreal’s musical direction can be wildly unpredictable, but it’s a fun ride.
Nas: Time is Illmatic
Sept. 28 at the Rio, Oct. 1 at International Village, Oct. 3 at the Rio
What begins as a fawning portrait of an artist who spends a lot of time in sunglasses looking out the windows of moving cars thankfully turns into a thought-provoking examination of the circumstances and environment that influenced rapper Nas (Nasir Jones) and his iconic 1994 debut album Illmatic. Nas’s story is a common one in the annals of hip hop — raised in the projects of Queensbridge, Queens by a single mother and frequently absent jazz musician father, Nas escaped the perils of drugs, crime and violence through music. Much like Illmatic’s jazz-inflected rhythms and brutally autobiographical lyrics, the film is both life-affirming and sobering, particularly when Nas’s brother scans a picture of the neighbourhood characters adorning the album’s inner sleeve and runs through each of their whereabouts. Graffiti artist turned-first-time-director One9, working with a wealth of live footage and sit-down interviews, does a thorough job setting the stage for Nas’s musical triumph and dissecting the ingredients that makes Illmatic such a revered album.
mkissinger@vancourier.com
