Montreal specials

The snow is here. It's time for me to start throwing my garbage bag from my balcony (ok, I've been doing it for awhile now). It's time to be woken up by the snow plow and removal convoy. The bales of hay have been put at the base of Mont Royal Park for the sledders. And I've already seen folks in full cross-country gear (still wearing their boots) getting on the bus with their skis just having come from the "mountain". You definitely don't see that in Toronto.

EX LIBRIS – The New York Public Library

EX LIBRIS – The New York Public Library is the latest film by legendary documentarian Frederic Wiseman. It is 197 minutes in length. And worth the watch.
When I told people that I was going to the screening, people laughed. Why would I want to watch a film that was that long? Well, I wasn't the only one. The screening was sold out (the rush line was so long that I doubt everyone in the line got in). And it's been showing at basically every film festival (e.g., Venice, TIFF, Zurich, Hamburg, Rio, Busan, Vienna...).
With a film this long, I wonder what could be cut. I wonder why the filmmaker decided not to cut more (because, obviously, there were more than 197 minutes of footage shot). I mean, 197 is a long time to be watching a film. But it's not the longest film that I've seen. At TIFF 2013, I watched At Berkeley (also by Wiseman) which was a whopping 244 minutes. I thought it was mediocre. I wanted more about academic life...less about their activism history. I also took a nap during the screening.
Full disclosure, I also took a wee nap during the current film, but I don't think it was out of boredom. It was a Sunday afternoon, it was a dark room and I was sitting in a comfy chair. The sound of the film was relaxing. On my way out of the theatre, I hear another person say that they closed their eyes at a couple points as well. So that made me feel better. I don't know how long I was actually out for, but I don't think I missed anything important. I guess that's the bonus of such a long film.
As I reflect on this film, I feel like I watched someone's PhD dissertation (which, coincidentally, can also be a product that the creator finds difficult to cut). I felt like, it was a product of a lot of research and exploration and synthesized into a nice package that gave me all the best bits and I have a well-rounded sense of the topic.
Simply put, the film lets the viewer in to the world of the New York Public Library and shares the wide variety of efforts, initiatives, events, programs that it has to offer. I think it might be a little strong to say it this way, but in some way, it does feel like a love letter to the NYPL. The film was caring, kind, warm...I felt good. There were many moments where I was smiling. That led to laughter. Filmed in 2015, we learned of book clubs, afterschool tutoring programs, afterschool robotics programs, carer and tot programs, active-for-life programs, speaker series (including conversations with Elvis Costello and Ta-Nehisi Coates), technology classes, job fairs, galas, meet the author events, art exhibitions, lecture series, internet access initiatives, musical concerts, and guided tours. We learned of specialist branches (e.g., Schomburg Centre for Research in Black Culture, Andrew Heiskell Braille and Talking Book Library). Not only was the film about the NYPL, but it too let us explore New York. The diversity that exists, the different neighbourhoods. To see Harlem, Chinatown, and Midtown. We could compare and contrast the splendour of the 5th avenue location
to the warm and cozy, small neighbourhood location. We were invited to think about the different patrons, including (but not limited to): readers, tourists, students, learners, the homeless, parents, new immigrants. We not only saw what the public sees, but went behind the scenes too. From books being sorted for delivery to different branches, to Board of Trustee meetings and other admin and staff meetings to discuss the vision and direction of the NYPL. It was clear that the NYPL works closely with many organizations to provide what they believe will be the best possible product to patrons.
I was very impressed with everything that the NYPL has to offer. The efforts that it takes to be for the people. It makes me curious about what my local library system has to offer and why I am not taking advantage of their programs.
I thought it was a great film.

Picture courtesy of: www.ridm.ca

Maman Colonelle

Maman Colonelle (official website here) is a film about Colonelle Honorine, a member of the Democratic Republic of Congo's police force. Her specific role is to protect children and combat sexual violence. The film follows Colonelle Honorine for four months in 2015 on a new assignment in Kisangani, a region that is still reeling from the Six-Day War (2000) and where some community members believe in witchcraft. Colonelle Honorine, new to this community works to both support women survivors of the war who have lost their husbands and children, and care for children who endure physical and mental abuse as their parents try to rid them of their "wizardry".
Maman Colonelle has been quite successful and going around the festival circuit (e.g., Berlin, HotDocs). The screening that I attended (with English subtitles) wasn't sold out - the theatre was maybe 50% full.
The director was unable to attend the festival, but prior to the screening, we watched a video recorded message from Dieudo Hamadi to introduce his film and tell us a little bit more about the context and follow up information. He shared that he knew of Colonelle Honorine prior to coming up with the idea for the film and due to the sudden re-assignment and budget constraints, the film was shot quickly and simply. He shared that upon watching the film, Colonelle Honorine said, "c'etait bien", but that's it. It was difficult for him to tell what she really thought. Colonelle Honorine has recently been reassigned to a smaller locale, a post that the filmmaker shared seemed to be a demotion of sorts, relating to some of the struggles of his country and priorities.
The film is short and sweet. Unlike the other films that I've seen during the festival, there is a resolution at the end, which brings some hope to a challenging situation. I was able to learn about a culture and context that I otherwise would not have on my radar.
I would definitely recommend this film.

Picture courtesy of: http://www.andanafilms.com

A Modern Man

A Modern Man (official website here) is a documentary about Charlie Siem. I wasn't aware of him prior to the watching the film, but the topic seemed compelling and had just enough hint of "hits close to home" for me to be intrigued.
Some keywords that come to mind: drive, ego, emotions, giftedness, happiness, identity, independence, loneliness, perfectionism, pressure, recognition, relationships, reputation, selfishness, solitude, and success.
This film was in the documentary style of "getting to know a character" by following his life for a period of time but also with direct interactions through interviews. This is, in contrast to other documentaries (like, DPJ) where we're just privvy to the context/topic, but are silent/invisible spectators.
The Q&A with director Eva Mulvad, was great. A little bit too much of audience members giving commentary rather than asking questions (there was one gentleman who went on for awhile leading so audience members getting a little restless), but Ms. Mulvad did a great job of responding to each, describing what she found interesting in her protagonist and giving more insight into his world and character.
Although much of the Q&A centered around the issues of focus in the film, Ms. Mulvad implicitly spoke of her film making process and artistic choices that she made. While, for the most part, I'm more interested in getting more in depth into the topics of the films, I find it interesting when filmmakers talk about their craft. Typically, it's enlightening and I'm reminded of my naivety in that, of course, every choice the filmmaker makes is intentional and with purpose. Perhaps in reference or inspired by another film (e.g., Sofia Coppola's Lost in Translation), to affecting the emotion of the audience in relation to the content being explored (e.g., starting with cold and seemingly frivolous opulence at the beginning of the film to closer, more intimate shots alongside violinist onstage during performances).
This film ended quite suddenly as well. It is a trend? Ms. Mulvad indicated that she had struggled with how to end the film. Ultimately, I think about some of the films that I've been watching and really there is no "better way" to end the film. Lives continue. There is no end point. There is no resolution. If the topic of the film doesn't naturally build to a specific event, moment, time...if the film is just a moment in time of something bigger...then, how else could you end the film?
Anyway, I enjoyed this film. Hard to say if the film was really that good, or that I just connected with the topic. Maybe a little of both. Ms. Mulvad expressed how she hoped that the audience would watch the film not as a spectator of someone else's life, but to be introspective and reflect on  the relevance of these issues in our current society. Based on the level of engagement of the audience during the Q&A, I think the film had an impact. Bonus - there's some great music in the film too. I'd definitely recommend the film to others.

Picture courtesy of: www://danishdocumentary.com/

DPJ

So I really don't know what was going on with the first film that I saw, but this one went rush, so people are definitely going to the festival.
This is a Quebecois film. I wonder if that has anything to do with it. My sense is that the topic of this film is also something that people are keen on. I noticed that there were some young adults in the audience who were talking notes during the film. Comments from audience during the Q&A indicated that there were quite a few folks from the DPJ and related organizations/fields/partners in attendance.
This film is about the Direction de la protection de la jeunesse, which is Quebec's child protection services. I'm undecided about whether the film is focused on cases, or workers of the DPJ. In the Q&A, the filmmaker indicated that he started the process focusing on the youth, but then turned his focus on the workers. I think he does both angles justice. The film provides a great "behind the scenes" look at what the DPJ does. From supporting the very young, to those nearing adulthood. It presents issues with compassion really not putting blame on anyone for challenging circumstances. And ultimately, I think that's what the DPJ is trying to do - support the youth and do what's best for them. Not pointing fingers, but creating solutions and finding the best plan for the youth.
The film ended abruptly. I wanted more. Or closure. But how else could the film have ended? It made the point very clear, there's no ending. The youth's journey goes on. The workers jobs continue. Cases are ongoing. There is no "the end".

So the intro to the film was in French. The Q&A was too. I mean, I have been wrestling with a lot of things recently and really reflecting hard about this and that, but the experience of going to this screening was another example of how things are different. It's hard to quantify how much I was able to comprehend. The movie have English subtitles that I read, but I also listened to the French dialogue. All of the questions asked during the Q&A happened to be asked in French. For the most part, even though dialogue was quick, I was fine during the Q&A but I was starting to feel a little fatigued and can't say for sure that I followed 100%. But was it that I wasn't following, or that I was picking and choosing what to take in. And living in this bilingual context is funny too - I find that if I have conversations in French or am in a French environment like I was for the screening, it's more challenging for me to recall it later on or even discuss it with someone else in English. In the moment, I feel like I am taking it in, but as soon as the moment passes, a part of it is lost. I suppose this might be an indication that I'm not fully fluent in French? Anyway, I think about belonging and access. I think about community. I think about a lot of things.

But ultimately, I liked this film and would recommend it to others.

Picture courtesy of: www.ridm.ca

Unarmed Verses

The RIDM fell off my radar last year. No idea why. It actually wouldn't have been on my radar again this year, but a colleague mentioned it in passing and I'm back on the bandwagon. Thank goodness.
I went through the entire list of films and narrowed down to about 20 or so that I was interested in. And as one does, I made an excel spreadsheet of the films in order to narrow down even further ruling out ones that conflict with other pre-existing commitments and then seeing how many overlap requiring me to prioritize which films I actually want to see. I'm thinking I'll end up seeing 4 or 5.
Two years ago, when I looked into seeing some films at the festival, I remember many of the ones that I was interested in already being sold out. I don't remember if I had waited until the last minute to get tickets, but I do remember being disappointed that I couldn't get tickets. I only ended up watching one film.
This year, tickets were still available for all of the films that I wanted to see, and the festival had already started. I don't know if there was something weird about the festival two years ago, or something weird about the festival this year (although, it's the 20th edition, so shouldn't there be a lot of interest in the festival this year?)...or even maybe the films that I'm interested in, but the fact that tickets were still available threw me off. Well, I guess it's more the fact that the film that I saw tonight had about 10 people in attendance. I was shocked and disappointed (for the festival and for the filmmakers - who were in attendance and expressed their slight disappointment).
Here are some facts: It was the second screening. It played at Hot Docs this past spring. There, it won the Best Canadian Doc Award. The screening was on a Sunday night. None of that helps me to understand why so few people were at the screening. I have never attended a screening of a film at a film festival with so few people.
Unarmed Verses is a film focusing generally on the Villaways community in the Sheppard and Leslie area of Toronto, but more specifically on Francine, a young member of the community. The film was subtle and I felt ended too early without getting deep enough into the issues, but keywords of: community, race, poverty, youth, and empowerment stand out. In Toronto (and I assume in other cities/towns as well), there have been many "revitalization projects" effecting (/involving?!?) Toronto Community Housing. This film focuses on one such case, but through the lens of a young member of the community. I'm unclear whether her growth is a byproduct of negotiating (for herself and her family) the changes unfolding (or about to come) to her community. Or, her participation in an arts-program that asks her to vocalize and make public her private thoughts, poems, and writing. Or, maybe it's both. And maybe it's the responsibilities that this young lady has thrust upon her, from family members, from other members of the community. It's clear that she not only has mentors to guide her, but she herself is a mentor to other younger members of the community.
It was a nice film, touching upon some important issues, and through voice and eyes of a lovely young lady.
I look forward to the next film that I get to watch as part of the festival.
 
Picture courtesy of www.nfb.ca/film/unarmed_verses/ 

Passing judgment

When an instructor at the gym doesn't mirror their actions/motions when facing the people attending class, I judge them.

Learning more about my neighbourhood

I live in a neighbourhood with a large Hasidic Jewish population. Prior to moving here, I was pretty much unfamiliar with this community. Little by little, I am learning more about Hasidism. I'm not always sure if what I'm learning about is accurate, but there are certain things that I have learned that I know to be true. And it's fascinating. Learning about different cultures, beliefs, traditions...I think it imperative to learn as much as possible about others.
In my neighbourhood, there is little interaction between Hasids and non-Hasids. At least on my part. While sometimes a hello or nod when passing by a non-Hasid on the sidewalk, I haven't had that interaction with a Hasid. But, I am curious and try to keep an open body language.
In addition to learning through observation, I have been told about some components of their culture, and more broadly, Orthodox Judaism (and even Judaism, in general). I have learned of the wigs that married women wear, men's payot. I occasionally snack on bubkas. I noticed mezuzah's in doorways. I look fondly at the beautiful skirts and dresses worn by many women. How siblings seem to take such good care of one another.
Each year, I've noticed a temporary structure erected around the doorway to a synagogue like, for construction purposes. And around the same time, something like parts of Christmas wreathes being thrown in the garbage. So different pieces of a puzzle that that I cannot decipher. But I recently learned of Sukkot and the sukkah. After which, on walks in my neighbourhood, I noticed sukkah's in various forms including structures in backyards and boarded up balconies. 
I also know of Shabbat. How a perfect day for me to go to the bakery is the day that it's closed. And word that people passing by will be asked to turn on/off an oven.
And it's true. This evening, on my way home from the bus stop, a gentleman, from his doorway asked if I could help turn off a light in his house. As perhaps my reaction reflected a well-ingrained "stranger-danger" belief, he started to explain his request. I told him that I understood why he asked this favour and he said that he was surprised, that most people did not know. I follow him into his home and turned off the light. There were other lights still on in the hallways, but he said all he needed was the one in the bedroom. He was very friendly and thanked me again for my help and wished me a good night. As he was on his way out of the house and we were walking in the same direction, I wanted to take the opportunity to engage in conversation with him. Although so curious, in the moment, I wasn't sure what to say. I didn't want to be too forward. Rude. But his body language seemed relaxed and open. I ended up asking him about the sukkah (as we were nearing the synagogue) and then about his hat. He told me about his shtreimel and I learned that only married men wore them, and on Shabbat. Hope he didn't find it silly or insulting that I asked if it was heavy. He responded that it depended on the brand/make. At this point, we reached the synagogue which was where he was heading to. I wished him a good evening and continued on my way. 
At a time when decisions (read: laws) are made because...well, for whatever reason they're made...I was happy to connect with a neighbour. A stranger. I learned about him and his culture. I value, appreciate, and accept him. Who knows if our paths will cross again. Previous to this evening I don't think our lives directly intersected. Other than some increased knowledge, a darkened bedroom, some positive emotions (hopefully, mutual), I don't think there have been any (negative) consequences.

Zumba

I took my first Zumba class today. I know I'm many years behind, but I wasn't really planning on ever taking a Zumba class. Because life happens, I got to the gym an hour earlier than I needed to. I thought about going to run some errands before the class that I usually take, or sitting in the common area and getting some work done, but I thought that maybe there was a different class on the schedule that I could try and then just head home earlier instead (never a bad thing).
The only option was Zumba.
I mean, I had always been slightly intrigued, but when people (who take Zumba) describe the class to me, I really can't imagine it being fun. When I watch youtube videos of it, I really can't imagine it being fun. But carpe diem, right? So, I took Zumba.
I'm not really sure how much of a workout it was (we'll see tomorrow if I'm sore or anything). My heart rate might have gone up a little bit? I'm not totally sure. But, it gave me a chance to observe and well, think some thoughts.
First, if someone wants to just try Zumba and decided to walk into a class like I did, I'd be very surprised if they didn't get overwhelmed. I think my background in dance (including some salsa training and rudimentary hip hop) really helped me out. My body awareness, coordination, and ability to pick up movements and patterns, I would assume gave me a leg up from the average person. I did fine throughout, but the class was essentially a series of varied repeated movements that changed from song to song. I'd be a little slower on the first pattern, but then it was pretty easy for me to follow the rest. It seemed like a lot of the people in class were regulars, so I assume they'd repeated the patterns many more times that I had and to the same songs no less (I knew this because some people were singing along). Even still, many people were turning the wrong way, forgetting when patterns ended, what patterns were, etc. I do give the instructor credit though. She was very good at giving cues. It really supported my ability to follow along, but I wonder for someone else who's just thrown into a situation like that for the first time, if they'd even be able to pick up on it.
I mean, when I've taken dance classes with different instructors that use a style of movement that I'm not as familiar with, it takes me a bit to catch on. I don't respond to their cues as easily, and quite frankly, I don't always pick up on them. It's like information overload at that point, where I just zero in on a certain part of their movement to master it, and forget about the rest. You know, like how dance teachers will tell you to forget about the arms (and/or head) and just concentrate on the feet for some more intricate exercises?
Anyway, I wonder how people who don't have the breadth of music/movement-type experiences as I do take in their first (or any) Zumba class?
Well, maybe they're not like me and don't realize that they were a half-count behind, or flexed their foot when it was supposed to be pointed? Maybe they don't get frustrated that they didn't do their rib isolation just so to get that hip hop vibe (me doing hip hop is no bueno).
Everyone in the room (not really moving as one) looked like they were having a grand 'ole time. Literally, there were people high five-ing each other between songs. There were different types of people taking the class as well and that was pretty lovely. Definitely people who, at face value, I wouldn't have expected to take a Zumba class.
I'm sure I was probably one of the more self-conscious people in the room. I was judging every movement that I was making. Critiquing each roll of the hip, shoulder, and wrist. I envy those who were able to let go, be in the moment, and just do their thing (that slightly resembled what the instructor was doing...).
That's not to say that it was a completely horrible experience for me. I enjoyed watching everyone else in the room. Their positive energy warmed my heart. I sort of got my salsa fix (I'd really been thinking about how much I missed taking classes and/or dancing). I moved my body to music, which is always good for the soul.
But will I take another Zumba class in the future? ...I'm not so sure.

Snow stories (addendum)

Awhile back, I wrote about how great Montreal was at cleaning up snow. The city is efficient and organized.

I have two more things to add:

1. "Part 1" of their grand plan (that I referenced in the aforementioned post) might not be logistically possible in other cities. It seems that they use a snowplow that drives on the sidewalk that pushes the snow out onto the road. Since the sidewalks is just beside the curb, this is possible. It would not be if they used the same system in the neighborhood where I grew up where there's a patch of land between the sidewalk and the curb often containing trees.

2. Not only do they put up signs the day prior to notifiy cars not to park on the street before they plow, but earlier in the evening before the plows come a truck drive around sounding a loud siren/honking noise to give warning that the tow truck will be coming around soon to remove vehicles still parked on the street.

Also, I guess the one unfortunate thing is that the plowing/blowing/trucking cavalcade often goes by in the middle of the night. It's sorta loud and contains a lot of flashing lights. (Small price to pay?)

Truth

Definitely.