Reviews

The double meaning in this film makes it well-worth seeing. Based on a story by Doris Lessing, it probes the life of Victoria, a French-born woman of African ancestry who gives birth to a daughter by Thomas, a white Frenchman who is the scion of a left-wing but rich Parisian family. Far from being racist, the rich family rejoices in their newly-found grand daughter and showers her with gifts and affection, much to Victoria's discomfort. By inviting us to tease out the reason for Victoria's alienation, director Civeyrac offers an analysis of racial conflicts in modern Europe.

Or does he?

Perhaps there is a different way to look at Victoria's life. There is little overt racism in the film. Victoria's best friend (also black, and the narrator of the film) bounds through college, lands a perfect job as a reader for a publisher and moves easily through the mixed race society of Paris. Watch the film carefully and you might discover more reasons for Victoria's pain than the colour of her skin.

Of the 40 or so films I have seen so far at the Vancouver International Film Festival, this is the best. No. Wait. It is the best film I have ever seen. In the opening scene, Angeliki calmly leaves her eleventh birthday party, steps over the balcony of her family's Athens apartment and drops to her death. The reason for her suicide drives the rest of the film. Of course, your first guess is that she is being sexually abused, probably by her grandfather, the only man in a family consisting of two women, one teenage girl (besides Angeliki), a 10-year-old boy and an eight-year-old girl. But not so fast. The grandfather, brilliantly played by Themis Panou, overcomes his embarrassment over his grand-daughter's death and leads the way in helping social services uncover the dark secrets of his family. And under the skillful direction of Alexandros Avranas, who also co-wrote the script, as the secrets are revealed, so the tension increases. But suspend your suspicions until the last ten minutes -- they may surprise you. Great acting by all the cast. I am reluctant to paste the cliché "riveting' to any film. Except for this one.

Canadians find this WWI Brit propaganda film a real knee-slapper. It encompasses every cartoon of Canada found in both the British and American stereotype canon. That canon holds that Canada is about the size of Maryland (or Lancashire) and populated by Indians, trappers, Eskimos and Mounties. Anyway, here's the plot.

A German submarine hunting in the Gulf of St Lawrence runs low on fuel. So the captain decides to take ship and crew to an outpost on Hudson's Bay. Getta map, Helmut! Canada ain't Switzerland. That's a few thousand nautical miles. It's easier to get to Hamburg from the Gulf than it is to get Hudson's Bay!

Nonetheless, they arrive and send a landing party. The outpost seems to be populated by the entire Chinese population of Vancouver masquerading – furs and all in the middle of summer – as Inuit. But wait. Here's Laurence Olivier as a Quebecois trapper. Un vrai homme. When he finds out that his visitors are Boche he gives them a real tongue lashing. 'My father, 'e was in the first war. Ah, we really gave you guys a licking then, ma foie!'

The landing party, stranded when the sub is sunk by an air patrol, steals a plane and flies to Winnipeg. Winnipeg? Okay. Halifax would have been better, but whatever. Then, hearing that a way of escape lies through the port of Vancouver, they start to walk – yes WALK – from Winnipeg to Vancouver. 'Ere. 'Old on, mate. In't it a bit far for a toddle? Well, yes. About 3000 miles. Eee. Blimey.

After several adventures that reduce their numbers, the Huns arrive in – you might guess this – Banff, Alberta. Which is, of course, crammed with native persons tarted out in feathered head dress. And red-coated Mounties of course. And Trevor Howard, playing an English recluse who lives in – you guessed it – a wigwam. To make things more hilarious, he decorates the inside of his tent with original paintings by Picasso.

Don't stop now. There's more. One German survivor gives up on the Vancouver escape and travels (who knows how?) back to Ontario where he hops a freight train into the United States. In the freight car he meets a drunken Ontario farmer, played by Raymond Massey, who offers him a swig of home produced wine. In the only realistic sequence in the film, the German takes one swallow of Ontario wine and, looking nauseous, hands it back. When I was last in Ontario, I visited a local 'winery' and I have to agree with the Hun. Ontario wines are instant emetic.

The film ends when the German arrives in the U.S. only to find the Americans have (finally!) joined the war.

If you are Canadian, this film is well worth the rental price. In addition to the laughs, there is a short appearance by the drop-dead beautiful Glynis Johns, object of several of my erotic fantasies when I was 13 years old in 1954.