By Anne Brodie
A radical feminist who changed the wine landscape for all time is celebrated in Thomas Napper’s Widow Clicquot. It’s 1840 in the fertile Champagne region of France. Barbe-Nicole Ponsardin Clicquot, played with authority by Haley Bennett is married to François (Tom Sturridge) who owns a failing Champagne vineyard and suddenly dies leaving her a widow at 27 with a young daughter. She’s immediately beset by local winemakers including neighbor M. Moet who assume she’ll sell the estate as women aren’t allowed to own businesses under Napoleon unless a widow of an owner, but it’s assumed she is female, therefore incapable. Her business partner François, a drug addict made bad business decisions that caused the ruin of the last vintage; cheap glass bottles exploded. Mme Clicquot had always been the heart and soul of the champagne an important “nose”; when in charge made far-ranging strategic changes that restored the vineyard and the chance to come out of financial ruin. It was a long, hard fight – hopeful buyers charged her with running a “criminal enterprise” for shipping cases around Napoleon’s blockade – but she had a savvy friend (Sam Riley) who encouraged her and a young, loyal accountant who admired her instincts. Mme Clicquot dashed old-fashioned business practices for new, effective methods, including encouraging collaboration, and the brand that she elevated lives on today. Given the rolling vineyards of France as a stunning locale, an exciting, Barry Lyndon-esque score, and Bennett’s magnetic presence the TIFF favourite about early, dangerous feminism and the brave soul who abided is unusual and welcome.
Disney Debut’s fact-based feature Young Woman and the Sea introduces us to a heroine who few of us may know. Daisy Ridley plays four-time world champion swimmer Trudy Ederle, the first woman to cross the English Channel. Her story is as dramatic as her accomplishments because this was back in 1905 when women didn’t swim, as sexist New York society found it unsuitable. Haunted by reports of the deaths of 45 women by drowning because they couldn’t swim, Trudy was compelled to conquer the male-only sport; she found a clandestine female swim team under an inspirational coach, and shoveled coal to pay for lessons. Nothing could stop her; after all, she’d beaten the deadly measles pandemic. Her traditional immigrant father was horrified but her mother and sisters urged her on. Trudy set nine world records over her remarkable career and won gold at the 1924 Paris Olympics. But she continued to struggle to overcome patriarchy even under her assigned Channel coach. Trudy made the swim and came home to Manhattan to the biggest-ever ticker tape parade for a woman. What a story; it’s a shame its interpreted in a conventional fashion. It stands on its own but manipulative editing, score, and direction overwhelm it. After all Trudy conquered the many constraints against her at a time when women had little agency, showing the world how it’s done. That’s the story. It stands on its own, without the frills. Ridley’s performance and athleticism are top-notch and it’s good to know about Trudy’s pioneering ways. Streams July 19th.
Luke Gilford’s National Anthem a pastoral queer love story sets us down on a ranch run by a LGBTQ1A2 community, a place they can be free and live their lives in full, with companionship and support from one another. Newcomer Dylan (Charlie Plummer) has a tough home life; his alcoholic, underemployed mother would rather party all night than care for Dylan and his little brother. Dylan administers the boy’s medication, feeds and cares for him full-time while doing back-breaking construction work in glaring sun and heat. Even so, his mother tells him to work harder because they’re running out of money. Dylan finds a new world at the ranch. He’s fascinated by the looks – full drag, 24/7 – and by one worker in particular – Sky (Eve Lindley) a trans woman. Her warmth offers respite from his home life, and he begins to experiment with this new way of life. The pastoral, lyrical framework, sensitive cinematography and direction are gentle, but the film has impact. Its unhurried pace lends realism as Dylan sorts himself out and begins his journey of awakening and acceptance. What seems initially a slight film really lands with power. Select theatres.
It’s not news. Pop stars, actors, and folks with stars in their eyes have stepped into the limelight with promises of wealth and power, and have often been manipulated, robbed, and screwed over by unscrupulous admin. But few and far between were folks like Lou Pearlman, an aviation mogul creator of numerous stellar boy bands and singles, who took everything that was theirs. Thirty years ago, his clients, average age 17, became global sensations under his tutelage – The Backstreet Boys, *NSYNC, O-Town, Innosense (featuring Britney Spears), LFO, US5, Aaron Carter, Jordan Knight, Smilez & Southstar, and C-Note. Pearlman enjoyed being puppet master to teenagers who couldn’t believe how their lives expanded; they liked him and took to his business plan; he was fun and generous. He taught them to sing and create harmonies, to present themselves, one band after another, churning out hitmakers /money-makers. They toured the world and dominated teen culture and in Netflix’ documentary series Dirty Pop: The Boy Band Scam, we learn what became of the multiple millions these kids earned. Now sobered up by reality and rueful, former band members describe their experiences and all the money they never saw. Pearlman paid pittances and used their income to fund his aviation conglomerate and his over-the-top lifestyle. Bespectacled, goofy, and tubby Pearlman was never known to have a girl or boyfriend, but he was likable and fun and knew how to entertain folks in the most extravagant ways. He had influential friends; President George W Bush gave his private plane F-16 escorts on 9/11 to take clients out of NYC. But he was crook, an expert forger and stamp creator, especially useful when the lawsuits began to fly. A litany of his bad deeds emerges, shocking stuff. Fascinating if hair-raising documentary.
noma, the world-renowned Danish restaurant specialising in foraging, fermenting, fishing, and hunting on its own land is about to close, sometime this year and reinvent itself … again. The decision has upset foodies and fans who have faithfully flown in from around the world to experience if for twenty years. My brother Michael, my nephew and his wife Justin and Jui-Ko got there. Justin tells me he ate ants, cod tongue and jowl, and separately, the vegetable menu and buys their online household items.
I haven’t been but am happy to report that Chef René Redzepi is reaching out to the masses with kitchen products, pop-ups, and big plans. He’s produced and presents Omnivore, an eight-part documentary teaching us the most basic and magical secrets of food. Eight episodes, eight foods, Chile, Tuna, Salt, Banana, Pig, Rice, Coffee, and Corn go under the microscope, history, chemical makeup, flavour, usage, and current production and distribution methods. Redzepi opens saying “We are what we eat. I’m a bushel of blackberries in Macedonia”. That whimsy and thirst for knowledge and reflection bring new meaning to the food documentary. Redzepi’s response to sharing Boot Orange Copenhagen chiles, “the hottest thing ever bred”, with his staff and customers is telling. “It is masochism. Embrace the hurt. Wait for the endorphins to kick in”. In Bangkok on the other side of the world, a couple experiences the Prik Kee Noo chili at 100k on the Scoville scale; they report being suddenly happy and keen to have sex. Redzepi dedicates himself to the everyday items that changed the world – think coffee – and the transformative powers of what we eat and drink. Omnivore’s stunning production values, deep thinking, and sharing of ideas as if they were wonderful dishes, are irresistible. Essential viewing for anyone who eats. Apple TV+ July 19
Lady in the Lake also available on the Apple TV+ is based on the NYT bestseller by Laura Lippman is a powerful portrayal of two women of vastly different worlds in 1966 Baltimore. The seven-parter combines elements of noir, thriller, and character study of Cleo and Maddie (Moses Ingram and Natalie Portman) in inventive ways. It feels radical and explosive; reflecting systemic racism in the city. Maddie, a former journalist is trapped in an emotionally abusive marriage and needs more out of life. She leaves and takes an apartment in a dangerous part of town, hoping to revive her career as a reporter. Cleo Sherwood (Ingram) an accountant in a gambling den, department store model and Black activist lives in dangerous circumstances as drugs and guns overtake her community. She has dark secrets to protect . A white woman goes missing and the town’s in an uproar, Maddie, feeling the need to get involved to pay her respects, finds the woman’s body in a lake. Sometime later, Cleo’s body is found in a fountain. Writer-director Alma Har’el has found a fresh and urgent way to tell the story with both psychological and mythical elements, underpinning the harsh reality of Baltimore at the time. Also stars Y’lan Noel, Brett Gelman, Byron Bowers, Noah Jupe, Josiah Cross, Mikey Madison, and Pruitt Taylor Vince.
The Way We Speak’s raw honesty as it unmasks a serious narcissist stymied by his own actions is searingly, painfully real. Patrick Fabian’s knife-edge performance as Simon Harrington, an essayist whose opinion of himself and his work is far higher than reality, is precise, repugnant, and shocking. He can’t bear feeling “less than” and pretends with bluster that he’s cock of the walk; he’s ruthless in his efforts to shore himself up. His wife Claire (Diana Coconubo) is more successful than he is and does her best to protect his ego and soothe his frequent meltdowns. According to him “Everything in life is a competition” and it eats away at him. They attend a thought leader’s conference where he is to debate Sarah (Kailey Rhodes), a best-selling Christian writer on the existence of God. He mocks her, decries her youth and good looks as the reasons she’s famous, and writes her off. But he’s brought to speed fast in the debate and acts out onstage, calling her a hideous name. The debate is ended and he is ordered to apologise or lose the chance to continue the following day. As disgusting as his slur to her was, he can’t sincerely do that. Long-suffering Claire stands by him in a limited fashion and then breaks some bad news. Simon’s extreme fragility, masked by phony confidence is played to perfection; Fabian’s Simon is loathsome and he’s the lead – are we meant to identify or feel empathy for him? Quite the feat for an actor; a stellar, memorable even risky piece of work. Coconubo, Rhodes, and conference organiser Anna (Ayanna Berkshire) make a spectacular ensemble. TVOD on July 23.