Canadian Film Weekly (Mar 20, 1970)

Page scan 0003 from Canadian Film Weekly

Record Details:

Title:
Canadian Film Weekly
Date:
Mar 20, 1970
Volume:
Canadian Film Weekly (Mar 20, 1970)
Leaf #:
0003
Language:
English
Collection:
Hollywood Studio System, Global Cinema, and Canada
Format:
periodicals
Contributor:
Media History Digital Library, Canadian Media Magazines Project, Paul Moore and Jessica Whitehead
Coordinator:
Media History Digital Library
Description:

Canadian Film Weekly

  • Editor: Hye Bossin (1942-64)
  • Renamed Canadian Film & TV Bi-Weekly (1965-69, editor: Stan Helleur)
  • Renamed Candian Film Weekly(1970, editor: Ed Hocura)

Canadian Film Weekly (1942-70) was edited by Hye Bossin and published by Film Publications of Canada, Ltd., wholly owned by leading exhibitor, Nat Taylor. In the late 1930s, Taylor was head of the Independent Theatre Association and his Toronto-based chain, Twinex-Century (Twentieth Century), was the largest independent circuit in the country. In 1941, however, he negotiated for chain affiliation with upstart Canadian Odeon before leveraging a better deal and greater booking control with nationally-dominant Famous Players Canada, Ltd. No longer independent, he took ownership of the Independent Theatre Association’s semi-monthly magazine, The Canadian Motion Picture Exhibitor (1940-41), installed Hye Bossin as editor, and laid plans to relaunch in January 1942 under a new name, Canadian Film Weekly. This enduring key publication was no longer solely focused on independent exhibitors but instead covered the entire industry on a national scale–exhibition, distribution and production–with some attention given to studio news from New York and Hollywood.

Bossin was a vibrant writer with a canny way with words, admired in the industry in the United States as well as Canada. He was one of a large family who lived above their father’s secondhand shop in the Jewish “ward” downtown in Toronto. His older brother was a bookie with ties to the underground; his younger brother was a famous journalist, protégé of Walter Winchell, and Hollywood screenwriter. In contrast, Hye spent nearly two decades learning the publishing trade in a printers’ shop before trying a stint as a Hollywood publicist, then writing a column for the Toronto Star Weekly before taking Taylor’s offer to edit the Film Weekly. Bossin was central to the creation of the Canadian Film Archive, the Canadian Film Awards, and he wrote some of the first histories of early cinema in Canada, published in the first volumes of the annual Canadian Film Weekly Year Book (1951-70).

In 1957, the Film Weekly had incorporated the rival Canadian Moving Picture Digest (1917-57), and began dating its start to that paper’s earlier start as the Canadian Universal Bulletin (1915-18). Subsequent variants of the Canadian Film Weekly and its yearbooks always claimed their roots all the way back to 1915 and the origins of the film industry trade press in Canada. After Bossin died in 1964, the Weekly’s new editor, Stan Helleur, renamed the magazine Canadian Film & TV Bi-Weekly, scaling back the pace of publishing but adding a purview for television and broadcasting. The annual was renamed similarly, its subtitle amended to “Year Book of the Canadian Entertainment Industry.” An attempted renewal to weekly format in 1970, edited by Ed Hocura, was short-lived and Nat Taylor decided instead to relaunch under an entirely new title, Canadian Film Digest (1971-77) and Canadian Film Digest Yearbook (1971-86).

– Paul Moore, March 2024

Further Reading

  • Bossin, Hye. “Canada and the Film: The Story of the Canadian Motion Picture Industry.” In Canadian Film Weekly Year Book of the Canadian Motion Picture Industry, 21-41. Toronto: Film Publications of Canada, 1951.
  • Moore, Paul. “Chronicling a National History: Hye Bossin’s Canadian Film Weekly and Year Book.” In Eric Hoyt and Kelley Conway, eds., Global Movie Magazines. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2024.

Date Added:
April 11, 2024
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Page 4 CANADIAN FILM WEEKLY MARCH 20, 1970 movie reviews By GARY TOPP MARK FRECHETTE, ROD TAYLOR and DARIA HALPRIN Zabriskie Point (MGM) “My films are in search of themes that are current, specific, burning” wrote Michelangelo Antonioni in 1954. He believes in improvisation in depth, using the inspiration of the actors’ presence and the setting, as well as the active handling of the camera, to help him create the form of the shooting. He remains primarily a screenwriter. His principal films have been variations on a highly personal theme, revealing his response to what he has observed, but not pointing out any moral about it. Zabriskie Point, Antonioni’s twelfth film and his first in America, is a narrative, developing his constant theme of fragile sentiment, the presentation of a boy and a girl who are passing through a key phase in their lives. They live in contemporary America, in the midst of the revolutionary spirit. The boy and girl meet; they talk; they make love; they separate. Everything that takes place before they meet is a prologue. Everything that takes place after they meet is an epilogue. (It is interesting to note that an actual news report dealing with the untimely and pointless death of a young man who was returning a ‘borrowed’ airplane crystallized Antonioni’s story concept.) I’ve already seen Zabriskie Point twice, and I enjoyed it even more the second time than the first. It’s solidly constructed, containing perhaps the most beautiful compositions available for Antonioni’s sort of material. However, I enjoy the film much more than I respect it — it is a delight to the eye but a true disappointment to the mind. There are no pleasing performances (from newcomers Mark Frechette and Daria Helprin, and Rod Taylor), the dialogue is trite and Antonioni’s vision of America, though it does have its truth, has already become cliché and extremely boring. If the director is attempting to state the young militant point of view (“We should distinguish between the two kinds of violence. If someone is violent toward those who seek freedom, that’s bad. But if those who seek freedom use violence to achieve it, _ that’s good.”) he is running into a serious problem — there is no strong back-up to support his valid case. Antonioni’s perception of young America playing an equal role to the landscape of Death Valley is an interesting prospect. It doesn’t require much imagination to see that that part of California, so exquisite yet so alone, shares much in common with the disenfanchised youth — the lunar-like landscape of the valley suggesting the solitude sought by those who are not at ease in their own society. The final segment of Zabriskie Point is brilliant, surely one of the exceptional uses of special effects’ technique in the film medium. The destruction, through revolution, of the guilt-ridden, oh-so-comfortable western civilization is executed in such a resplendent, lazy ballet through the air, that it is frustrating that the previous portion of the movie is so inconsequential. Nevertheless, for all of its deficiencies, Zabriskie Point should not be missed by anyone who takes cinema with the least bit of seriousness. Antonioni is concerned about today’s young people. He is interested, as his film shows, in everything they do — their strength and their awkwardness. I am interested in the same way about Antonioni and HIS observation. KS * My Night At Maud's (Prima Films) All I know about writer/director Erich Rohmer is that he is a prominent French film critic, one of many who has taken to producing his own films. One of his works, My Night At Maud’s is one of this year’s Academy Award nominations for the best foreign film. My Night At Maud’s is a pleasant little picture posing the eternal question as to whether or not a man of great conviction, searching for a wife, has the free will to choose between good and evil. The protagonist is a devout Catholic (Jean-Louis Trintignant, already seen in another award nominee, Z) from provincial France. At Mass, he notices an attractive blonde girl, with whom he immediately falls in love. He attempts to follow her home, but fails. He reads Pascal hoping to uncover his own destiny — he decides that he must marry the unknown blonde. Through a friend, he is introduced to Maud (Fabienne Fabri), a free-thinking, sensual divorcee. They spend the night together discussing the mysterious blonde girl with whom he is in love, and her troubled marriage. The man finally meets the blonde love of his life and the one girl he has decided to marry. She is single and another devout Catholic. The choice between good and evil is made. My Night At Maud’s, number three of Rohmer’s six moral tales: — where are the others? — is an enjoyable little character study and an ironic love story executed without any thrills, with just good old-fashioned talk, and lots of it. “I haven’t talked like this in a long time. It’s done me a lot of good,” replies Maud. FABIENNE FABRI and JEAN/LOUIS TRINTIGNANT Erich Rohmer has made a very well-made film, a very intelligent film and a good introduction to the director himself. It’s just unfortunate that little gems like this are only discovered as a result of a haphazard Hollywood Academy Award nomination. Well anyway, maybe the newly found prestige of My Night At Maud’s will allow us the opportunity to see more works from this very talented director. a Lorna (Cinepix) Russ Meyer has built a solid reputation on being ‘the king of the nudie movies’. His independent, low-budget exploitation films are constantly being involved in lengthy court suits, and have caused many a furor among the serious-minded movie enthusiasts. But at the same time, an equal number of movie-goers have praised Meyer as being a genius at his craft — his craft being the satirization of the ever-existing pornography and violence prelevant in today’s popular mass media. Put me down, and my editor too, as being an admirer of Russ Meyer’s so-called (but not so) erotic movies. Meyer is no amateur film-maker. He is a solid cameraman, and as a screenwriter, he has the fortunate knack of being able to concoct story lines from the most basic of ideas. His plots are totally cliche; his dialogue is totally cliche; his symbolism (?) is totally cliche; his technique is totally cliche; his stars are totally cliche. And as far as I’m concerned, this all makes for quite an enjoyable movie. Lorna is no exception to the rule. It stars one of Meyer’s superstars, the over-busty Lorna Maitland, and tells a story of frustration, | jealousy and unfaithfulness. The acting is atrocious, perfectly directed for the type of material. It never drags (it’s only an hour long) and contains more than one laugh. It’s hard to believe that anyone might take it seriously, and as long as it’s not taken seriously, it makes for great film fun. At a recent tribute to Meyer, at Yale University, the director stated that he would never try to justify the violence and sex in his movies — “T just consider it entertainment”, he remarked. Me too!