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Karim Hussain’s Ascension is a cryptic second feature r % ; (after the filmmaker’s Subconscious Cruelty), about three Che OY g
women ascending what seems to be a never-ending spiral
Staircase. The film is audacious, to say the least, and undoubtedly distributor-defying, but Ascension deserved / é N (, TAce SA M a big-screen debut at an event like the New Film Festival. d y Md OS A ce
Kudos to them for providing Hussain with a forum.
Where festival types did seem a bit out of the loop was in their ultra-proud proclamations about nabbing Martin Scorsese’s The Blues series for PBS. Undoubtedly, this is an important anthology, with movies about blues artists by directors such as Clint Eastwood, Mike Figgis, Wim Wenders and Scorsese himself. But before the films aired at the New Film Festival, they were already being screened on the local PBS station, meaning anyone in Montreal with cable could watch the series from the comfort of their own home. A bizarre claim of a coup for the festival, and probably more than somewhat embarrassing.
Still, given this oversight, Losique’s heavy-on-hot-air charges about Montreal’s New Film Festival are direly unfair. Taken together with FanTasia, the city’s mid-summer
celebration of cult cinema, these events are probably the most crucial in Montreal’s overcrowded film festival landscape. Losique’s pre-emptive diatribe says less about the New Film Festival’s importance and more about the lack of his own.
Matthew Hays is the film critic and associate editor for
Montreal s weekly Mirror.
Women’s Film and Video Festival
(10/15-190/03) By Wyndham Wise
Radio deejays begin the day with “Canada, Newfoundland’s youngest territory.” T-shirts read “Free NFLD” and “Newfoundland Liberation Army.” The only time zone in North America that is marked by the half-hour. Welcome to the parallel universe that is Newfoundland and Labrador.
The St. John’s International Women’s Film and Video Festival—which advertises itself as “Hot Chicks. Hot Flicks. What more could you want?’—is a small gem of a festival that seems retro at first glance but is refreshingly free of politically correct, male-bashing cant.
Barbara Doran's The Man Who Studies Murder
TAKE ONE 47