Last year, we were lucky enough to profile TIFF’s Short Cuts Canada and Short Cuts International programmes, which compiled a huge amount of short films from seriously talented filmmakers for TIFF audiences. It was a fun feature for us to do, and we knew that, come next year, we’d do the same thing again. Now it’s 2015, and we’ve finished getting a glimpse at some of what TIFF has to offer us this year. Once again, the results are the same: an impressive and diverse group of shorts from around the world, with an especially strong showcase this year from Canadian filmmakers.

And for anyone who might be unsure about buying a ticket to one (or more) of these 11 collections of shorts, it’s worth noting that sometimes you might be one of the first people to catch a glimpse at the launch of a new filmmaker’s career. Last year, Andrew Cividino’s short Sleeping Giant played, and now his feature-length adaptation of that short is having its North American premiere at TIFF. In other words, it’s worth your time to take a look at what’s playing this year in Short Cuts and help support some terrific films. We’ve gone through each of the 11 programmes below and picked 26 of our must-sees. If any of these sound up your alley, don’t hesitate to snag yourself a ticket for the programme it’s in if tickets are still available. You won’t regret it.

The Toronto International Film Festival runs from September 10 to 20. Find out more about the Short Cuts programme and buy tickets, visit TIFF’s official website. And if you can’t make it to TIFF, you can still watch some of their shorts for only $10 through their new Short Cuts Re/mix screening experiment.

But first…

While it’s not playing in Short Cuts, it would be a huge mistake on our part if we didn’t mention Nick DenBoer and Davy Force’s short film The Chickening, which will open this year’s Midnight Madness programme. I’ve been told to stay mum about the many, many twisted surprises in store for viewers once they lay their eyes on The Chickening, and after watching it, I wouldn’t dare speak a word. What I will say is that the above picture of a chickenified Jack Nicholson should let you know that this short is some sort of unholy fusion of poultry and Stanley Kubrick’s classic, but that’s all I will say. I can’t wait for TIFF audiences to lose their minds once they experience The Chickening. [C.J.]

Now, on to the main event…

Short Cuts Programme 1

Mobilize

At less than 3 minutes, Caroline Monnet’s Mobilize covers plenty in its exhilarating montage of Indigenous people adapting to Canada’s ever-changing landscape over the years. From building a boat to travelling the lakes to building cities and navigating the 9 to 5 work week, Monnet keeps things moving at an exciting, hypnotic clip. And the soundtrack, a track by Tanya Taqaq, gives the proceedings a visceral, “adapt and survive” quality. [C.J.]

O Negative

Steven McCarthy’s moody, nearly wordless short starts with a man (McCarthy) driving his ailing girlfriend (Alyx Melone) to a cheap motel before feeding her his own blood. Yes, this is a vampire movie (sort of), but it’s a stylish and effective one that’s not afraid to get bloody (and it gets bloody). Think of this as an unofficial sequel to Let the Right One In, and you’ll start getting an idea of what O Negative is like. [C.J.]

That Dog

Musician Nick Thorburn (from bands like The Unicorns and Islands) makes his directorial debut with That Dog, and he’s assembled quite the cast for this 15 minute short. Following three people staying in the same apartment complex (Andrea Riseborough, Tim Heidecker and Michael Cera), Thorburn’s short seems plotless at first until the complex’s close quarters and awkward situations between tenants cause an unintended chain reaction. This is the sort of story that feels ripe for an expansion to a full-length feature. [C.J.]

Short Cuts Programme 2

Dragstrip

In four short minutes, co-directors Daniel Claridge and Pacho Velez construct a unique sports film that captures everything but the sport.  This is what makes it so fascinating.  With a throaty rumble of drag-car engines ever present in the background, Dragstrip is a patchwork of the faces behind the highlight reel; amateur racers and fans anticipating the next big race, but doing so with a workmanlike calm that belies the explosive excitement they’re about to be a part of.  It’s a behind-the-scenes look in plain view. [Michael]

Wellington Jr.

I didn’t see this thing coming. In her 12-minute stop-motion animated short, director and co-writer Cécile Paysant disarms viewers first with crudely designed characters (in terms of looks and physicality), then with an absence of dialogue (there are guttural sounds throughout, but no discernible language).  The theme, though, is clear: do the old man proud. A father presents his son with a gun for his birthday, and the two participate in a rite-of-passage hunting contest against other father/son teams.  Paysant perfectly captures the different disappointments felt by father and son when the son is not up to the task.  I audibly gasped at the wicked twist at the end. [Michael]

Short Cuts Programme 3

Boxing

After surviving a tragic accident, a woman (Kyra Harper) returns to her boxing class, only to find herself bombarded by one of her classmate’s (Rachel Wilson) selfishly selfless concerns for her well-being. Grayson Moore & Aiden Shipley, who worked on last year’s stunning TIFF short Running Season, return with yet another winner that has some of the best performances in the entire programme. It’s a great character-based short that builds plenty of drama out of seemingly very little, and it all culminates in a brilliant single take finale that takes full advantage of the short’s slow-building tension. [C.J.]

Bacon and God’s Wrath

Employing various media to tell his tale, director Sol Friedman introduces 90-year-old Razie, a woman who, for almost all her life, lived as a devout follower of the Jewish faith, but always wondered what a bacon and tomato sandwich might taste like.  Then “the Google” came along, opening her eyes to more than just recipes.  This 9-minute look at faith, fear, and the pragmatism of modern thinking is as timely as it is entertaining. [Michael]

Short Cuts Programme 4

World Famous Gopher Hole Museum

Sometimes documentary filmmakers hit gold, and that’s the case with Chelsea McMullan and Douglas Naylor’s profile of a gopher museum in the small town of Torrington, Alberta (population 200). The museum is nothing more than dozens of dioramas of taxidermied gophers in various parts of town, whether it’s getting their hair done at the salon or praying in church. McMullan and Naylor take what could have easily been treated as indie quirk (some of these dioramas scream Wes Anderson) and give it a somewhat ominous and somber vibe. Comparisons to Gates of Heaven will be inevitable and for good reason. [C.J.]

Beneath the Spaceship

A unique friendship between the adolescent Julie (Selma Modeer Wiking) and her adult neighbour Paul (Per Lasson) gets tested in Caroline Ingvarsson’s intriguing film. In a short amount of time, Ingvarsson lays out a nuanced relationship between the two, and the complications that abound with Julie starting to enter her teenage years. Operating as more of a slice of life than a closed narrative, Beneath the Spaceship showcases two great performances in a surprisingly complex short. [C.J.]

Portal to Hell!!!

I feel like I have to write a bit more about this short due to the tragic, unexpected loss of its star “Rowdy” Roddy Piper several weeks ago. Director Vivendo Caldinelli and writer Matt Watts have given fans of They Live what they’ve been waiting for since Carpenter’s film came out in the 80s: a chance for Piper kick ass and save the world again. Playing an exhausted superintendent of a crappy apartment building, Piper discovers that two tenants have conjured up a portal to hell in the basement in order to summon the Lovecraftian “Old Ones” (look out for a Cthulhu cameo). Simply put, Portal to Hell!!! is consistently funny, surprisingly nasty and entertaining all the way through, and watching Piper play the role of a half-assed hero is a delight. It’s sad knowing that Piper is no longer around to star in the feature-length expansion (and I have confirmation that one is in the works), but I’m just happy to have a chance to see him take on this kind of role one more time. [C.J.]

Short Cuts Programme 5

She Stoops to Conquer

Julian Richings is one of Canada’s bottomless resources in Canadian film, and a classic definition of a great character actor. So it’s nice to see his distinct look and memorable presence used so well in She Stoops to Conquer, Zack Russell’s strange and beguiling short. A talent show performer (Kayla Lorette) who dresses up as an old man for a comedy set finds her performance isn’t working with audiences, but one night after going to a club in her costume she finds the exact lookalike of her character (Richings). It’s a fun “what if” scenario about meeting one’s own doppelganger, and it’s all helped by Henry Sansom’s striking cinematography. [C.J.]

Remaining Lives

Luiza Cocora takes a hard, intimate look at the transition from life at one him to life at another in Remaining Lives. The short takes the perspective of a young Romanian girl who’s recently moved to Montreal with her mother, and over the course of the film the realization that this change isn’t a temporary one slowly settles in. It’s a subtle short with great direction that highlights the alienation and disconnect its central character feels, and an ending that will make the film linger in viewers minds well after it’s over. [C.J.]

El Adiós

Clara Roquet, the co-writer of our Must See Indie pick 10.000 KM, makes her directorial debut with this excellent look at the societal and class distinctions between a maid and the wealthy family she works for. Jenny Rios plays Rosana, a Bolivian maid preparing the house for the funeral of the family’s matriarch. But as the day goes on, and the relatives of the deceased increasingly show disrespect to Rosana, it becomes apparent that her patience has run thin. The assured direction here is great, but it’s really the fantastic and nuanced performance from Rios that makes El Adiós a highlight in the Short Cuts programme this year. [C.J.]

Short Cuts Programme 6

Nina

Making her directorial debut, Halima Elkhatabi presents a stark and honest snapshot of a teenage mother living on her own, making the choices of someone with far more maturity than she has, while still succumbing to natural teenage urges.  Nina is a girl who cannot shake the habit of making bad decisions, and while the film offers the most obvious of those as narrative bookends, it’s the choices Nina makes in between that are wonderfully subtle.  Elizabeth Tremblay Gagnon gives a strong performance in the title role. [Michael]

Short Cuts Programme 7

Never Happened

Mia Kirshner and Aaron Abrams, two great actors usually seen in supporting roles, get the chance to shine as the leads of Mark Slutsky’s wryly funny comedy. Kirshner and Abrams play co-workers on a business trip who, after a few drinks, wind up cheating on their spouses with each other. Abrams and Kirshner establish a great chemistry in (literal) seconds, and Slutsky’s narrative structure is used to great effect. But it’s in the final minutes of Never Happened where the film takes an interesting turn, one that makes it more in line with Charlie Brooker’s Black Mirror. [C.J.]

(Otto)

The filmmakers behind last year’s TIFF short A Single Life return with a bittersweet and funny story about a little girl, her imaginary friend, and a woman desperate for a child of her own. After seeing the little girl playing hide and seek with her non-existence playmate the woman, who recently found out she can’t have children of her own, steals the friend so she can raise him as her own. It’s an absurd, funny and ultimately melancholy film about finding a connection with someone, and its sincerity should win viewers over. [C.J.]

Rock the Box

This short documentary profiles Rhiannon Rozier, aka DJ Rhiannon, a woman trying to break into the male-dominated world of DJing and dance music. Katherine Monk’s smart, fascinating docu explores Rozier’s decision to ultimately use her looks and sexuality to her advantage, posing in Playboy to help further her career. Rozier, who says she was always seen as a “golden child” with straight As through university, describes her choice as liberating, but is it only helping perpetuate the same standards that hold women back from the boys club that is EDM? Rock the Box lets viewers make up their mind on that issue, but everyone can agree that Rozier is an extremely charismatic subject, a careerist who’s in complete control of what she wants. [C.J.]

Short Cuts Programme 8

The Call

In this 10-minute South African short from writer/director Zamo Mkhwanazi, Sibongiseni (Fana Mokoena) is a stoic, unemotional cab driver who one day finds himself at a multi-layered crossroads in his life.  On the surface, a fare leaves an iPhone in his cab, something he can sell for quick cash, yet he doesn’t.  Below that, there is a funeral for a colleague he isn’t sure he will attend. Deeper still, he has impregnated a prostitute (Kgomotso Matsunyane) and is no longer sure an abortion is the answer.  He is crippled by indecision. [Michael]

Short Cuts Programme 9

The Swimming Lesson

Several childhood fears—from abandonment to peer pressure to drowning—converge in Olivia Boudreau’s wonderful 10-minute directorial debut. Jasmine Lemée plays a young girl whose harried mother unceremoniously drops her off for her first swimming lesson. The child is in a new place with new faces and hoping to learn to survive in a new element, and she is doing it entirely alone. Her imagination gets the best of her in the film’s WOW moment. [Michael]

Latchkey Kids

The incredibly tight bond between two teen siblings is threatened in Elad Goldman’s mesmerizing short about love and fear of abandonment. Gur (Yoav Rotman) and his sister Daniel (Gaia Shalita Katz) move with the unison of two people who have relied on each other for years.  But when Daniel’s boyfriend becomes a regular fixture in their lives (and thus a threat to Gur), the brother feels motivated to take action to protect his sister, his environment, and his happiness.  This 22-minute Israeli short is my favorite of the programme. [Michael]

Short Cuts Programme 10

Quiet Zone

In a perfect mixture of form and content, David Bryant and Karl Lemieux’s transfixing short uses degraded film as a visual supplement for interviews with people suffering from electromagnetic hypersensitivity, a condition where people fall ill when exposed to strong telecommunications signals. These people, unable to live in society due to cell phones, TVs, radios and WiFi, seek refuge in “quiet zones,” rural areas with little to no technology. Watching the film warp, scratch, burn and dissolve adds a tactile element to what’s on-screen, representing the way the short’s subjects can physically feel the effects of something invisible to the naked eye. It’s one of the most remarkable shorts I’ve seen in the line-up this year. [C.J.]

Oslo’s Rose

Sometimes it’s better not to reveal anything about a short before you watch it. This is the case with Oslo’s Rose, a funny and brutally awkward short from Norway. Nader and his friend are sitting down in a bar trying to get out of their writer’s block when Janne, an old friend of theirs, shows up and starts chatting with them while she waits for a friend. What happens over the course of this conversation becomes a great example of cringe humour, to say the least. [C.J.]

Short Cuts Programme 11

Bird Hearts

Written and directed by Halfdan Olav Ullmann Tøndel, this 25-minute Norwegian short stars André Sørum and Stine Sørensen as Benjamin and Maya, a 20-something couple living together in relative happiness.  However, when a small dinner party turns to the subject of past sexual experiences, Maya’s story gets inside Benjamin’s head and his insecurities take a toll on their relationship.  While a little slow out of the gate, once the film reaches Maya’s story, the tension created by the frailty of Benjamin’s ego is unsettlingly palpable. [Michael]

Bam

This Canadian animated short packs as heavy a punch as its protagonist.  Written, directed, and animated by Howie Shia, Bam follows the life of a young man who struggles to control his anger issues.  He eventually turns to the sweet science of boxing to make something positive out of something negative.  Life, however, still exists outside the ring, and he learns its the most delicate of relationships that suffer most from his rage.  In five minutes, Shia captures the essence of anger at a time when too many in the world seem to suffer from too much of it. [Michael]

The Man Who Shot Hollywood

This 12-minute doc from writer/director/narrator Barry Avrich is a jam-packed love letter to the Golden Age of Hollywood, presented as a personal and touching biography of a man who lived it. Jack Pashkovsky was a Russian-Jewish immigrant who eventually headed west to Hollywood with the hopes of being a cameraman. The industry’s nepotism prevented that from happening, and thankfully so. Pashkovsky turned to still photography and captured countless Hollywood legends in hundreds of pictures he took only for himself.  Some of those never-before-seen pictures can finally be seen here and they are glorious. [Michael]

If Robert Downey Sr. were more famous and his progeny less well-known, the “Junior” in Robert Downey Jr. would take on a much greater significance. It would become less a mark that he comes from an interesting family and become more like the “Junior” in Frank Sinatra Junior: a curse delivered at birth to ensure that the son will neither usurp the father professionally nor challenge his esteemed place in the show-business firmament.

I would consider Robert Downey Sr. a great man and a great artist, but he was blessed and cursed to live his professional life in the margins; first, as one of the great innovators of early independent experimental film, and then as an increasingly irrelevant commercial filmmaker—reduced to churning out garbage like The Gong Show Movie for his buddy Chuck Barris.

Recently, Criterion released a box set of Downey Sr.’s early experimental films, as well as Putney Swope, the outrageous ad-world satire that represented Downey Sr.’s creative and commercial breakthrough and semi-famously inspired Louis C.K. to become a filmmaker. The films included in the set are so personal and intimate that they sometimes feel more like home movies than proper films.

In a sense, they are home movies: lively improvised slices of life prominently featuring the filmmaker’s family, particularly his actress wife Susan. These are fascinating sociological documents of how New York looked in the 1960s and how New Yorkers behaved enlivened by an anarchic comic spark that presages the tiny comic revolutions of National Lampoon and Saturday Night Live (where Robert Sr.’s brother James worked and continues to work for decades) and Woody Allen’s golden age.

This is the upside to the world that Robert Downey Jr. was born into: he was a beautiful, androgynous child whose family name might not have meant anything to outsiders, but marked him as countercultural royalty to the right people. He was a little prince raised by bohemian parents who left him a complicated legacy.

Robert Downey Jr. as Charles Spencer Chaplin in Chaplin

Downey Sr. introduced his little prince to both acting and marijuana at a very early age. While the notion of pot as a gateway drug seems increasingly ridiculous, it does not seem coincidental that a child introduced to drugs by his father would go on to become the world’s most famous junkie.

For years, Downey Jr. had the strange misfortune to be our most famous drug addict; a man riddled by demons so intense and so severe that he was as famous for being a drug addict as he was for being one of the most talented and charismatic actors of his generation. So when Robert Downey Jr. famously and, to be brutally honest, factually, told Entertainment Weekly that he wouldn’t make a 500,000 dollar indie movie after a blockbuster, there was a whole lot more at play than the aging Downey Jr.’s concern for the comforts and ease of studio movies.

I have no doubt that Downey Jr. loves his father. He was one of the guests at a tribute to him in LA not too long ago (along with Downey Sr. super-fan Paul Thomas Anderson), but his father left him a violently contradictory legacy. Downey Jr. grew up on independent film sets, or what would be sets if his father didn’t prefer just shooting on the streets without a permit. So for Downey Jr., independent films are more than just an option post-blockbuster. They’re a massive part of a past that contains incredible triumphs but also incredible pain rooted in the drugs that were a bond between a brilliant, troubled son and his brilliant, troubled father.

Press tours have a way of bringing out the worst in actors by subjecting them to the same asinine questions over and over again and making them feel like mercenaries out shilling their wares to whatever outlet is interested. So when Downey Jr. told Entertainment Weekly Radio that he’s reluctant to plunge into the world of independent film again because, in his estimation,
“they’re exhausting and sometimes they suck and then you just go, ‘What was I thinking?” part of me suspects he was channeling the sneering bluntness of Tony Stark.

Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark in Iron Man

That’s what makes Downey Jr’s casting as Tony Stark/Iron Man so inspired. They’re both paradoxically men of almost superhuman resilience and strength who are paradoxically defined by their intense vulnerability. And, if that fifty million dollar paycheck and robot suit can make a man who has been through many a hell of his own devising, feel stronger and less vulnerable, than it’s understandable why he might prefer playing superheroes to the kinds of misfits bumming around the fringes you tend to find at Sundance.

And, to give Downey Jr. credit, a lot of independent films are terrible. The idea that a film’s budget and tone and production paradigm makes it inherently worthwhile and the product of artists is insulting to the great independent films that do overcome tremendous obstacles to become a lasting piece of art. If we pretend that every independent film is a scruffy triumph like Winter’s Bone then we greatly undervalue that particular film’s enormous value.

I’d like to imagine that if another script like A Scanner Darkly were to come to Downey Jr. he would not toss it in the circular file because the set lacked an impressive craft services budget. I do not blame Downey Jr. for not wanting to be James Toback’s alter-ego in a series of self-indulgent indies that seem to exist solely to satisfy Toback’s massive ego.

Robert Downey Jr. as James Barris in A Scanner Darkly

As to Birdman director Alejandro González Iñárritu’s argument that superhero films represent “cultural genocide,” well, I would argue that Iron Man 3 as an achievement towers over Birdman, Academy Award or not. Pop culture isn’t innately trash any more than independent films are innately high art.

It’s safe to say that Downey Jr. has spent more time on independent movie sets than almost any writer who has interviewed him, and knows of their joys and agonies better than just about anyone. These films are not just a world he knows well, they were the spaces that created and distorted him, and where he has honed his idiosyncratic gifts. And, if this man who has survived so much, wants to leave these worlds, at least temporarily, in his past, I, for one, cannot blame him.

Most directors would probably kill to have a career like Robert Altman’s. With a career spanning more than 4 decades, Altman proved himself to be one of the busiest, most creative and versatile directors in American history. He started out in the 50s working as a director for television, until his frustration over a lack of control prompted him to start working on feature films instead. It wasn’t until 1970 when his film career launched, thanks to the success of M*A*S*H. With a dozen features over the next decade, Altman established the traits of his unique style: overlapping dialogue, improvisation, large ensembles and the ability to subvert genre expectations.

Altman used to say he always saw himself as traveling in a straight line, and looking back at his career the statement couldn’t be more true. His output in the 70s only came from Hollywood studios because he was able to do what he wanted. The studios’ preference for blockbusters and bigger budgets at the end of the 70s, combined with the disastrous performance of Popeye, saw Altman turning his back on Hollywood, turning his attention to directing stage shows and filming play adaptations. Altman came back to Hollywood in the 90s in a big way with The Player and Short Cuts, and in 2001 he wowed audiences with Gosford Park, a film many consider to be among his finest works.

With Canadian filmmaker Ron Mann releasing his documentary Altman later this year, the TIFF Bell Lightbox is holding a retrospective on the filmmaker during the month of August. The retrospective kicked off recently with the Canadian premiere of Altman, and over the next 4 weeks the Lightbox will screen 18 films from the director. All of us here at Way Too Indie consider Robert Altman to be one of the true definitions of an independent filmmaker, so we delved into the line-up to give our thoughts. If you’re not familiar with the man’s films, please, do yourself a favour and check them out. The films in this line-up (they don’t even cover half of his output) would be a great place to start.

Company Man: The Films of Robert Altman starts on August 7th and ends August 31st at the TIFF Bell Lightbox. To find out more about the program, along with how to buy tickets, be sure to check out the TIFF Bell Lightbox Website.

M*A*S*H

Screens August 7

Altman’s breakout film is literally a national treasure, being one of three of his films chosen for preservation in the United States National Film Registry. It’s an honor thus far bestowed on less than 1000 movies. Watching this war satire today still feels disjointed, and yet significant. Altman’s use of segmented vignette-style filmmaking, with plenty of overlapping dialogue and a cast so large it is hard to keep track, can be an overwhelming viewer experience. But its effect is pronounced. The contrast between army surgeons in the Korean war, cracking jokes, chasing women, and downing martinis, and their bloody operating room coupled with the somber reality of death in battle, is one of the most effective filmmaking techniques used to depict the mental burden of war. Starring Donald Sutherland, Elliot Gould, Tom Skerritt, Robert Duvall, and a whole host of others supporting, the film is laugh out loud hilarious, with the darkest of humor. It is easily deserving of its 5 Academy Award nominations and a win for Best Adapted Screenplay, as well as its Golden Globe for Best Motion Picture (Musical or Comedy). M*A*S*H had a tumultuous production, with the film’s leads doing their best to get Altman fired and not playing nicely with their detail-oriented director, but Altman’s discerning eye and auteur techniques jumped the hurdles of production, generating an instant classic and catapulting Altman’s film career. [Ananda]

McCabe and Mrs. Miller

Screens August 8 (Note: Cinematographer Vilmos Zsigmond will be in attendance to introduce the film)

Altman’s take on the Western stars Warren Beatty as John McCabe, a gambler opening up a brothel in a small mining town. McCabe, a man with a reputation as a notorious gunman, meets his match with Constance Miller (Julie Christie, fantastic), a madam whom he must team up with to turn his business venture into something truly successful. The success of their brothel soon attracts the attention of corporate interests, and when McCabe refuses to accept their offers to buy the place up, the company sends bounty hunters to kill him instead. Altman’s dedication to realism works wonders here, and the subversion of Western tropes rightfully earned it the title of the “Anti-Western.” McCabe doesn’t fit the usual expectations of the Western hero, and Mrs. Miller constantly outsmarts her business partner without breaking a sweat. It’s these elements, combined with Vilmos Zsigmond’s excellent cinematography and a remarkable final act, that cement McCabe and Mrs. Miller as one of Altman’s best films. [C.J.]

That Cold Day in the Park

Screens August 9

Before Altman made M*A*S*H,he went off to Canada to make this low budget, independent thriller. A lonely woman (Sandy Dennis) living in her deceased mother’s apartment notices a young man (Michael Burns) sitting in the park outside her apartment in the pouring rain. She lets him into her place, giving him a bath and letting him stay the night while his clothes dry. He doesn’t speak a word, but the woman develops a twisted attraction to him, and it doesn’t take long before she makes sure he won’t ever leave her. The film, one of the more obscure ones in Altman’s filmography, definitely earns its reputation as one of his lesser works. It’s a mildly intriguing but ultimately boring film, one that feels more and more pointless as it goes along. Nevertheless, it shows Altman’s skill behind the camera whenever it ventures outside of the woman’s apartment, especially in one sequence when Dennis makes a trip to see her doctor. At the time Altman made That Cold Day in the Park, he was ready to move to Canada out of frustration at the Vietnam War; the only thing that stopped him from leaving Hollywood was an offer to direct M*A*S*H. The rest, as they say, is history. [C.J.]

Brewster McCloud

Screens August 10

After the success of M*A*S*H, Altman took a wild left turn for his next film. Bud Cort stars as Brewster, a young man living underneath the Houston Astrodome building a machine that will give him the ability to fly. A mysterious woman (Sally Kellerman) acts as Brewster’s guardian angel, watching over him and ensuring no one puts a stop to his plans. There’s also a serial killer running around the town, and soon enough the lead detective (Michael Murphy) thinks Brewster is responsible. Altman reportedly despised Doran William Cannon’s screenplay, tossing it out and making things up as they went along, and it shows. Brewster McCloud is a truly baffling film, the kind of movie where trying to figure anything out is a waste of time. It’s also not very good. The ideas are wacky, but they’re rarely funny. It all amounts to a film that isn’t nearly as clever as it thinks it is. Brewster McCloud more or less vanished after it received a confused reaction from critics and audiences upon its release (it finally got a DVD release in 2010), but in recent years Altman fans have championed it as one of the more under appreciated films in his career. Clearly the film’s bizarre sense of humour appeals to some people, but from this writer’s perspective it’s easy to see why Brewster McCloud was shelved for so long. [C.J.]

The Long Goodbye

Screens August 17

Adapted from the Raymond Chandler novel, and featuring the infamous, chain-smoking, wisecracking private eye Philip Marlowe, The Long Goodbye is one of Robert Altman’s greatest directorial achievements. Written by Leigh Brackett (who previously adapted another Chandler novel, The Big Sleep, for Howard Hawkes,) the film is centered on Marlowe’s friend Terry Lenox, who seeks Marlowe’s help to cross the border one night after having a fight with his wife. The next day, Marlowe is brought in for questioning and accused of abetting murder; Lenox’s wife was found dead, right after Terry’s visit to Marlowe. But Marlowe only spends a few nights in jail because Terry commits suicide in Mexico, and the case is closed. Except, of course, it’s not. A security guard impersonating celebrities, a goon assigned to follow Marlowe around, the alcoholic author Roger Wade (Sterling Hayden, in scintillating form), a sociopathic Jewish gangster played by director Mark Rydell, and the classic damsel in distress (Nina van Pallandt) are only a handful of colorful supporting players orbiting around the scraggly Marlowe, brought to life by the impetuous and charismatic Elliot Gould. Produced during Altman’s glorious 70s phase, The Long Goodbye is full of quotable dialogue, a haunting melancholic theme song, and scene composition combusting with vibrancy. Example? The camera panning and following Marlowe as he walks on a busy Mexican street, strikes a match on the ground, and continues on his way only for the camera to momentarily lose interest in him and zoom in on two dogs humping. One of the dogs breaks it off violently and we abruptly cut back to Marlowe. There’s another scene featuring a coke bottle, improvised by Altman himself, which I won’t get into here on account of its power to surprise. Suffice it to say, The Long Goodbye is no standard film noir, but one with Altman’s cinematic acumen stamped all over it, making it a timeless classic of the genre, somewhere up there on its own level. [Nik]

Thieves Like Us

Screens August 19

Thieves Like Us, Altman’s tenth feature film, tells the story of a group of bank robbers and murderers who become stowaways at the home of a Mississippi gas station attendant. The film features many elements of the director’s notable style, including a naturalistic environment and non-conformist themes. Thieves Like Us, though, is perhaps the key example of his overall style not totally clicking. The film has a carefree rambling quality that totally works against the sometimes violent plot, and surprisingly ends up as a slog. Unlike many Altman films, this focuses more on its two leads than a large ensemble. Fresh-faced Keith Carradine and Shelley Duvall both give strong performances as the young lovers. Carradine brings a strong balance of an innocent young man and cold-hearted criminal, making him a man you root for to leave his life of crime, even as he shows no interest in doing so. His scenes with Duvall as their love blossoms are the most enjoyable of the film, quiet and romantic. Perhaps the biggest sin of Thieves Like Us is its similarity to Bonnie and Clyde, which was released seven years earlier. The connections are easy to see with the outlaws-on-the-run plot, liberal sexuality and violence — Thieves Like Us even ends in a heavily stylized slow-mo shootout. You can’t see Thieves Like Us and not think of Arthur Penn’s game changing Hollywood film, a matchup that doesn’t end up favoring Altman. [Aaron]

Images

Screens August 19

Images screened at the Cannes Film Festival in 1972, earning a Best Actress award for Susannah York. Later that year, it screened at the New York Film Festival, and one negative review in the Times convinced the studio to bury the film. It took 30 years before Images resurfaced on DVD, and it’s shocking that such a terrific film was kept hidden for so long. York stars as Cathryn, a children’s book author suffering from schizophrenia. Her husband takes her to the Irish countryside for a vacation, and her hallucinations only seem to get worse. Altman makes two interesting choices here: the film is completely subjective, as everything is seen through Cathryn’s point of view, and it’s completely aware of her illness. Cathryn constantly finds her husband switching bodies with other men, and Altman lets these scenes linger for so long it’s impossible to tell where Cathryn’s hallucinations end and reality begins. It’s an amazing mind-bender of a film, with plenty of gorgeously haunting imagery from cinematographer Vilmos Szigmond, and an unsettling experimental score by John Williams & Stomu Yamashita. Horror fans & Altman devotees who haven’t seen Images need to see it immediately. Hopefully one day it’ll earn its rightful place as one of the best horror films of the 70s. [C.J.]

California Split

Screens August 21

The 70s were awesome for Robert Altman. It seems like he had the reputation of being a difficult director even before the success of his breakout film M*A*S*H in 1970, but, with support from a handful of chief critics like Roger Ebert and Pauline Kael, Altman ushered in a new, energetic, and unique American voice folks wanted to hear. He directed 13 films in this decade alone. Booming right alongside Altman was Steven Spielberg, who was toying with the idea of directing a script by Joseph Walsh called California Split, semi-based on Walsh’s own gambling troubles. After that fell through, the script landed on Altman’s lap and he ate it up. Following the lifestyle of two gamblers, Charlie (Elliot Gould) and Bill (George Segal,) California Split is pure Altman; balletic camera and intimate zooms, naturalized acting to help strengthen the supporting performances, and a story that pulls you in by simply stepping into a particular world, in this case, the world of gambling. The hustle and bustle of hustling and busting out has rarely been as immersive, fun, and quietly devastating as it is here, with Gould – working under Altman’s guidance for the third time already – let off his leash to improvise the perfect degenerate role, and Segal turning out to be a great foil as his Bill becomes less passive about “getting in on the action.” For the tech geeks out there, it’s worthy to note that California Split was the first widescreen film to use the eight-track stereo sound system; which helps when you have a director who absolutely loves to drench his images in sound. Be it background noise, dialogue, or music; the sound adds a vital avenue of immersion into Altman’s cinema, and California Split is no exception. This is a must-see for Altman fans. [Nik]

Nashville

Screens August 22

Robert Altman made one of the best American films of all time with Nashville, and one of the most unique. It’s operates in the world of country music, with a kaleidoscope of 24 characters kicking around Nashville in the days leading up to a political rally. The myriad characters’ stories are interwoven, and while the cast is sprawling, the film is a tight, honest encapsulation of Middle America. Nashville is many things: It’s a musical, a satire, a comedy, and a drama all at once, and yet it’s more cohesive than that cocktail of elements sounds. There is no central character, and yet the narrative complexity never gets in the way of our enjoyment.

We see country musicians from the top to the bottom of the country industry, from veteran old-timers to up-and-coming artists, and through them Altman examines American ambition, politics, and big business. He’s a filmmaker of feeling and characters, and I think that’s what makes the film so easy to digest despite the spiderweb of characters he navigates. We’re always living in the moment, observing the fascinating people right in front of us, because he’s in tune with what makes people interesting. A scene in which Lily Tomlin’s character signs with her deaf son about his swimming test is inimitable.

The musical numbers are amazing (I’m a sucker for straight-up, sing-what-you-mean country), with Keith Carradine, Barbara Harris, and the incredible Ronee Blakley singing their hearts out. Critics heralded Nashville as the best film of 1975, and it’s regarded today as one of Altman’s paramount works. The film’s vibrant energy makes its 159-minute running time feel brisk, and Altman’s masterful storytelling has kept the film alive in critics and cinephiles’ hearts for almost four decades. [Bernard]

Popeye

(Note: Popeye isn’t playing in the retrospective, but it’s such an important and infamous film in Altman’s career we decided to include it. Plus it’s kind of an irresistible choice, no?)

Whether you think 1980’s Popeye is a complete disaster or unbridled masterpiece, you have to admit that it is remarkable it was ever made. To pluck a filmmaker with specific sensibilities that don’t necessarily mesh with a standard Hollywood style and then give him free reign on a beloved children’s character? Extraordinary. And then let him make a two hour kids movie that is impossible to follow with a character who mumbles every word? Who thought this would be a good idea? It’s not surprising that Popeye has a less than stellar reputation, but I would suggest it is worth another look. The film’s style is unabashedly Altman’s, perhaps to the film’s detriment, but it brings a one-of-a-kind quality that simply can’t be ignored. Robin Williams, in his first feature film, is magnetic as the title character. Williams hasn’t always shown himself to be the greatest actor, especially when the role lets him be too goofy, but it somehow works here. His physicality, which is an important part of the character, seems to be inspired by the greatest of silent film actors, and is a worthy tribute. Moreover, the performance finds a perfect balance between a real human being and the cartoon character that inspired it. These are undoubtedly caricatures over characters, but every one in the film is given at least one genuine moment that heightens the film — such as Olive’s strangely beautiful “He Needs Me” segment. Popeye is a cinematic curiosity, but it’s also a pretty good film. It is bold, with many genuinely funny moments and very interesting musical numbers. Thinking about the adaptations we often see today, I would argue that we’d be better off if more of them were like Popeye. [Aaron]

Come Back to the Five and Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean

Screens August 23

During the 1980s, Altman turned away from Hollywood and began focusing on the stage instead. He directed Come Back to the Five and Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean on Broadway with Sandy Dennis, Karen Black, Cher and Kathy Bates in the lead roles, and in 1982 he used the same cast in a film adaptation of the play. The four women play former members of a James Dean fan club, reuniting 20 years after the actor’s death in a small Texas town. None of us at Way Too Indie could check out Come Back to the Five and Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean before the retrospective started, simply because it’s not available to watch. The film never received a home video release, but TIFF will be screening it in a restored 35mm print. This might be the only chance to check the film out at all, let alone on the big screen, so be sure not to miss it. [C.J.]

3 Women

Screens August 23

Shelley Duvall as Millie Lammoreaux in 1977’s 3 Women is perhaps Robert Altman’s most unforgettable on-screen creation. Millie is a pretty, put-together girl, but her friends don’t show up to her dinner parties, and they mock her when they do so choose to tolerate her presence. Duvall’s big, deep eyes are cinematic treasures: They can communicate a world of despair, or fear, or desperate rage, as when Millie takes her frustrations out on her stalker-ish, tag-along younger roommate, Pinky, played by a creepy-as-ever Sissy Spacek.

What’s remarkable about 3 Women is its a darkly surreal mood and abstract narrative. The film sometimes seems sweet, though more often it’s eerie and dramatic, verging on a horror tone in its climactic scenes. Duvall, Spacek, and Janice Rule (who plays the third, enigmatic woman named Willie) are riveting in their roles as three women forming a strange, almost supernatural bond. No one’s sure what the film is actually about, but no matter: Altman’s characters and their surprising personality shifts make for great cinema without the need for a clean-cut plot.

Wading through Altman’s twisted dreamworld of chilling sights and sounds is a haunting experience that doesn’t leave you. The actual events that transpire are almost banal in their most literal form, but through Altman’s eye, we see our deepest fears in spilled cocktail sauce and a quiet swimming pool. 3 Women will burrow into the back of your mind like only the best psychological films do, and it’s through works like these that an intimate relationship is forged between audience and filmmaker. [Bernard]

Secret Honor

Screens August 24

When this retrospective feature was announced, I jumped at the opportunity to watch this odd and atypically introverted Robert Altman flick. If Altman’s filmography ever had a family reunion, Secret Honor would be the distant, outcast cousin talking to himself in the corner. It was born in the 80s, something of a dark decade for Altman; after the turbulence of Popeye set him back, the director found it hard to get any kind of budget, so, during his tenure at the University of Michigan, he adapted this one-man stage play of President Richard Nixon ranting and raving about Watergate, Kissinger, and the American power system into a tape recorder for 90 minutes. It doesn’t have the energy of his busier films and bigger productions, but with Philip Baker Hall’s volcanic performance at the center, you can’t fault it for lacking any energy either. Donald Freed and Arnold M. Stone adapted Secret Honor from their original play into a screenplay that fuels the fire in the picture’s belly, but Altman’s natural cinematic sensibilities still stand out. With his restless camera, dramatic zooms (you almost hear Henry Kissinger’s furious breaths through the paint of his portrait,) and use of score, the mise-en-scène becomes just as crucial to understanding the layers of Nixon’s complex psyche as the monologue. And check this out; Altman had students participate as film crew for course credit, among other more frugal reasons; so not only was he not staying down after taking some blows from the system, he was teaching in the process! It’s a good thing Secret Honor is part of TIFF’s Cinematheque retrospective, because it’ll remind people that Altman wasn’t just great when directing large casts. It’s a fascinating foray into one of America’s most disturbed rulers, that’ll make you laugh during timeouts from marveling at the acting and direction on display. [Nik]

Short Cuts

Screens August 26

It doesn’t get more ambitious than Robert Altman’s Short Cuts, a film boasting a massive cast of 22 characters, all of whom connect to each other in some fashion. Short Cuts broadly connects everyone in the beginning when a fleet of helicopters spray for bugs above the Los Angeles neighborhoods where each set of characters live. As the film progresses, stronger networks form as each storyline begins to intersect with one another. Much of the subject matter involves death and infidelity, but the central theme of the film is accidental luck. For example, a murder is covered up by an earthquake, reinforcing that sometimes life operates in cruel ways. Short Cuts also shows that life always moves on, regardless if luck is good or bad. Altman was known to have large ensembles and Short Cuts is no exception. The film is packed with solid performances from Tim Robbins, Andie MacDowell, Julianne Moore, Robert Downey Jr., Lily Tomlin, Tom Waits, Frances McDormand, Chris Penn, and Jack Lemmon. Here’s hoping The Criterion Collection will finally release a high-def version of this truly wonderful film some day. [Dustin]

Vincent & Theo

Screens August 28

Vincent & Theo was originally a four-hour miniseries for BBC, but Altman cut it down to 2 and a half hours and released it theatrically. If a Film Vs. TV debate was spotlighting this movie, TV would walk away with the win. At 2 ½ hours, it drags without Altman’s usual panache and gets weighed down by Julian Mitchell’s melodramatic screenplay. Tim Roth and Paul Rhys play Vincent and Theo Van Gogh respectively, artist and art dealer siblings in the 19^th century, and the two actors do fantastic work with the roles, occasionally breaking into hysterics to liven up the insipid dialogue. Even so, it’s not enough to propel the film anywhere near Altman’s greatest works, even with traces of his natural cinematic sensibilities scattered throughout. The opening sequence sees a raggedy and impoverished Vincent in dire need of immediate dental care while the overlapped dialogue comes from a future auction selling one of his paintings for 40 million pounds. It’s brilliant filmmaking, but much of the remaining film fails to be as cinematically insightful. Perhaps Altman wasn’t as comfortable doing period pieces, but Vincent & Theo didn’t start off his 90s with a bang – a decade which saw Altman re-emerge as one of America’s most important filmmakers with films like Short Cuts and The Player. My sources are a little contradictory on whether the original four-hour BBC cut still exists, but I can see Vincent & Theo working as a broken up slow-burning biographical miniseries way more than it does as a feature film. [Nik]

The Player

Screens August 28

Anyone who has watched The Player would have a hard time coming away thinking of it as anything but incredibly smart and slick. As a murder mystery set in the inner workings of Hollywood, it manages to be uncommonly self-aware without being overbearing. Tim Robbins is utterly convincing as Griffin Mills, a film studio executive whose life begins to unravel when he receives threatening postcards from an unknown writer whose script he rejected. Along with the stress caused by rumours of being replaced at work, the threats gradually drive Griffin into a state of constant anxiety. Yet Griffin is neither the innocent victim nor the sleazy hotshot who deserves a comeuppance – he’s just a real man. As he navigates his career, his new relationship and the increasingly dangerous threats, we’re forced to stop expecting him to be either hero or villain, while Altman subtly mocks the need for either in cinema. Altman’s sly jabs at Hollywood culture are served fast and always on multiple levels, and perhaps most impressive is how well his critiques fit today’s Hollywood as much as they did in the ‘90s. Packed with celebrities playing themselves and contributing to the satirical nature of the film, and a cast of supporting characters with their own complex lives to navigate, The Player refuses to settle into a pattern that we can understand and thereby predict, preferring to constantly subvert expectations – even the expectation of subversion. The pace is admittedly a bit precarious, but in the end, Altman delivers a creation that pushes beyond the bare basics of filmmaking in order to expose its very roots. [Pavi]

Gosford Park

Screens August 30

Probably the second most renowned of Altman’s films next to M*A*S*H, Gosford Park  is definitely his second most successful at the box office. And it’s really no wonder. Those same dynamics that keep many of us running back to Downton Abbey each season, are the fuel in Gosford Park’s fire. In fact, Julian Fellowes, creator and writer of Downton Abbey, wrote the screenplay for Gosford Park and then used the film’s basic themes of class distinctions in pre-WWII Britain to create Downton Abbey later. It’s a genius creative pairing. Altman’s talents seem to grow the larger his cast is and Gosford Park has so many roles it veritably demands repeat viewings to keep everyone straight, let alone understand how they all connect. Playing on a familiar theme, as Altman likes to do, the film takes the traditional dinner party-murder mystery and turns it on its head with sheer complicated-ness. Forget the silly British police man (Stephen Fry) solving the mystery, it’s up to a clever maid (Kelly Macdonald) to use her observations of both the upstairs and downstairs societies of Gosford Park to come to a final conclusion. Like some of his other films, Altman gets slightly wrapped up in his characters, not even introducing the main plot point of the film, the murder, until well past the halfway point. But with such polished talent — Maggie Smith, Jeremy Northam, Michael Gambon, Clive Owen, Kristin Scott Thomas — giving such ravishing performances, the film is never tiresome. [Ananda]

The Company

Screens August 31

After the success of Gosford Park, Altman surprisingly decided to work on a film he originally didn’t want to do for his next feature. As Roger Ebert notes in his review of The Company, when Altman first read Barbara Turner’s screenplay he said “I don’t know what it is. I’m just the wrong guy for this.” The film was spearheaded by its star Neve Campbell, a former dancer who co-produced and co-authored the film’s story with Turner. In The Company, Altman follows Chicago’s Joffrey Ballet Company for a year, charting the various successes and failures of the company and several of its performers (some of whom are played by real-life dancers in the company). The Company is admirable in the way it forgoes narrative for the most part, with characters like Campbell’s character Ry or Alberto Antonelli (Malcolm McDowell), the company’s artistic director, providing a bare minimum of story. There’s a new, ambitious production being worked on that also provides some sort of narrative, but Altman prefers focusing on the difficult lives the company members lead instead. It’s a scattered, realistic depiction of life in a ballet company, but as a film it can be rather dull. It’s easy to understand Altman’s hesitation towards the material, and for a good amount of the runtime it feels like Altman still didn’t really know what to do with the script. Some of the micro narratives, like a new performer trying to find a place to stay or a dancer snapping their Achilles tendon, succeed in making a compelling portrait of the film’s world. Unfortunately, most of the time The Company plods its way through to the end credits. Altman worked with digital cameras for the first time here, showing how adaptable of a filmmaker he was, even in his later years. [C.J.]

A Prairie Home Companion

Screens August 31
The last film Robert Altman directed is, on the surface, a film about a beloved radio show that exists in real life and is broadcast from the Fitzgerald Theatre in Minnesota. The premise revolves around the theatre being bought by investors looking to tear it down, resulting in the show’s closure. The film is, however, a great deal more than this, with unique and lovable characters that teach us little but enchant us thoroughly, including Garrison Keillor playing a version of himself as show’s host. Altman directed the film knowing he was to shortly die of leukemia, and so this plays a large part in its central themes, especially as it centres around the build up to the show’s last performance. Many aspects of the film are surreal and leave us uncertain of their authenticity, allowing it to transcend the restrictions of belief and truly undertake a more ambitious purpose. The character of the “Axeman” is but one example of this; in literal terms he is simply a man representing the people looking to shut down the show and theatre, but Tommy Lee Jones’ powerful performance makes it impossible to see him as anything but a manifestation of death itself. A Prairie Home Companion is undoubtedly uplifting, and yet it has these touches of darkness that lurk in the corners, meaning every moment of the film comes across as a wonderful attempt to keep beating back those cobwebs and embrace the transience of all things in life – including life itself. [Pavi]

Over the past 28 years the Independent Spirit Awards have recognized and awarded independent films that often get overshadowed during the popularity contest that surrounds most award shows. Many of the previous Spirit Award winners are now household names (Darren Aronofksy, Coen brothers, Robert Altman, Steven Soderbergh, David O. Russell), and furthered their careers from the recognition they received. As we wait to see what films will join the already impressive list of former winners, our staff at Way Too Indie shares their favorite 10 Best Film Spirit Award Winners of All Time.

Fargo

When the Coen brothers gifted their sixth feature film, Fargo, to us in 1996, Roger Ebert called it “one of the best films I’ve ever seen.” It was, and still is, a virtually universal sentiment among movie lovers across the world, and the film stands as a shining star in the Coen’s ever-expanding oeuvre. The Coens represent independent film with Fargo as well as any film from the ’90s, setting their outlandishly funny tale in one of the most offbeat, curiously charming corners of the country, a stroke of genius. Frances McDormand’s Marge Gunderson is a treasure of American cinema, and the “Minnesota nice” accent worn by the cast is now inextricably linked to the film. Aside from the film winning the Independent Spirit award for best picture, the Coens won a BAFTA and Cannes award for direction, an Oscar for Best Screenplay, and McDormand won an Oscar for Best Actress. [Bernard]

Black Swan

After reinventing himself with The Wrestler, Darren Aronofsky merged his new Dardennes-influenced style with psychological horror in Black Swan. As a ballerina slowly going insane as she fights for a lead in Swan Lake, Natalie Portman gave her best performance to date. The film was a smash hit too, earning over $300 million worldwide on a $13 million budget. Aronofsky’s visceral and elegant direction resonated with audiences, and understandably with Indie Spirit as well. With the $100+ million budgeted Noah coming out this year, Aronofsky has become yet another quintessential indie success story. [CJ]

Memento

Famously known for its backwards storytelling, Memento follows the story of Leonard, a man whose short term memory loss means he can’t remember anything since his wife’s brutal death, and his need to avenge her. As with any such thriller that involves the thorough confusion of the audience, plot holes could be found if we looked hard enough. But to do so would defeat the point – the film exists not to tell a story but rather to evoke an experience. Nolan’s film became a well known success not just because he could successfully tell his story in an untraditional manner, but also because this confusion was far more than just an interesting narrative device. The fact that we don’t know what happened 5 minutes prior to the scene we’re watching is incredibly effective in making us empathize with Leonard, who did know, but has forgotten. Paired with an astounding performance from Guy Pearce, it’s no surprise this film is ironically so memorable. [Pavi]

Little Miss Sunshine

Little Miss Sunshine has always been one of those films you either love or hate. I’ve met plenty of people that have said that it’s outrageous awkwardness is a bit of a turn off, but others like my self have found that the inner quality and beauty of Little Miss Sunshine can have a profound effect. It’s a wonderful story focusing on the struggle a middle class family endures whilst traveling across states to get to a child beauty pageant. The family deals with a lot of problems that arise along the way and learn to make room for each others imperfections. [Amy]

Short Cuts

Robert Altman is a pretty huge deal when it comes to the Independent Spirit Awards. For most of his directorial career he was deemed as noncommercial by Hollywood, meaning he was limited in terms of budget and distribution compared to other prominent filmmakers at the time. The notorious director now has an entire award category dedicated to him at the Independent Spirit Awards, and a lot credit for this comes from his 1993 independent hit Short Cuts. Stacked with a bunch of stars (Julianne Moore, Tim Robbins, Andie MacDowell, Robert Downey Jr., and Jack Lemmon), Short Cuts followed numerous strangers living in L.A. whose lives would eventually intersect with one another in various points. Altman’s masterpiece influenced other films with similar interweaving narratives like Paul Thomas Anderson’s Magnolia. Having recently revisited the film, I can confirm Short Cuts still holds up 20 years later. [Dustin]

Silver Linings Playbook

Silver Linings Playbook was also up for quite a few gold men at last year’s Oscars, including Best Picture, but winning Best Feature at the Independent Spirit Awards is a more fitting accolade for this black sheep film about, well, black sheep. The heart of indie filmmaking, while it might  have a lot to do with budget, is all about covering uncommercial topics, and a romantic dramedy involving two certifiably mentally unbalanced adults falls squarely into that category. This film stars Bradley Cooper as Pat, a bipolar and recently released psych hospital patient forced to move back in with his parents while he works toward winning back his estranged wife. When he meets a depressed and aggressive widow, Tiffany, played by Jennifer Lawrence, she promises to help him get his wife back if he agrees to dance as her partner in a competition. Together they develop their own kind of therapy in dealing through their issues, as well as find in each other a sense of sanity that works for them. David O. Russell’s adapted screenplay is hilarious but never makes light of mental illness, and though the cast is decidedly A-list, each of them gives a performance transcendent of genre or label. [Ananda]

Pulp Fiction

Quentin Tarantino’s second film cemented itself into pop culture history when it came out in 1994, and for good reason. Its dialogue, time jumping structure and circular storyline (among many other things) combined to make a wholly unique and wildly entertaining film. Audiences loved the film, and Tarantino’s distinct style made him become one of the most influential filmmakers working today. The Academy Awards handed their Best Picture statue over to the schmaltzy Forrest Gump, but time has shown that the Spirit Awards made the right choice. [CJ]

Juno

Charming, genius, quick-witted, touching, unique: all of these and many more similar adjectives are frequently used to describe Jason Reitman’s tale of a young girl and her journey through pregnancy. In fact, you’d be hard pressed to find someone who doesn’t sing Juno’s praises, and this is with good reason. A beautiful script from Diablo Cody with excellent comedic pacing, a performance from the immensely talented Ellen Page that will genuinely make you fall in love, and a fantastic supporting cast, from Michael Cera to J.K. Simmons – this film has a whole lot going for it. More than anything, though, what really makes it stand out is that in the same instant that it makes you cry with laughter, it will make you cry with emotion. For every smart, snappy joke is an even smarter, thoughtful take on life. Juno, the 16 year old girl who is wise beyond her years, is a paradox; it seems only right that the film is too. [Pavi]

Lost in Translation

In 2004 Sofia Coppola took home spirit awards for Best Director and Best Screenplay in addition to the Best Feature award for her intimate mood piece Lost in Translation. Having already piqued the interest of the film world with her directorial debut The Virgin Suicides four years previously, Lost in Translation proved that she wasn’t just another Coppola, but an artist in her own right. She wrote the script based on her own experiences traveling to Tokyo in her 20’s and had Bill Murray in mind while writing to play Bob Harris, the aging movie star in the midst of a mid-life and mid-career crisis. This perfect tale of Bob and Charlotte, the young American wife left contemplating life as her husband photographs celebrities–played by a young but exemplary Scarlett Johansson–focuses less on love and more on companionship in the midst of life’s periods of question in quite literally a place of complete cultural confusion . Despite being oddly juxtaposed against the anti-indie-film-of-all-films, Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, which also came out in 2003, it speaks to the excellent filmmaking and performances that Lost in Translation held it’s own that year and continues to be a perfect example of the ingenuity the Spirit Awards strive to reward.  [Ananda]

The Wrestler

Darren Aronofsky couldn’t have found a better suited star for his gritty character portrait of a deteriorating man who sacrifices his body and mind for his craft than Mickey Rourke. It’s hard to imagine anyone else in the role of Randy “The Ram” Robinson, a has-been professional wrestler who is a veritable amalgamation of many wrestling superstars from the ’80s (Hulk Hogan, Randy Savage, Terry Funk, and more). Watching Randy’s life fall apart bit by tragic bit is painful, and utterly engrossing; a scene in which Randy holds his hysterically heartbroken daughter (Evan Rachel Wood) in his arms on the floor of her living room is earth-shattering. The film had stiff competition in the 2008 Independent Spirit Awards, running against Kelly Reichhart’s sublime Wendy and Lucy and Lance Hammer’s powerful, contemplative Ballast, which speaks to the idiosyncratic brilliance of Aronofsky and Rourke’s collaboration. [Bernard]