11 Days of Canadian and International Cinema
TIFF 2024 Volume 1
The 2024 Toronto International Film Festival delivered another unforgettable celebration of cinema, and I was thrilled to be a part of it for my second consecutive year. Over the course of the festival, I immersed myself in 61 films spanning genres, countries, and styles, each adding a unique thread to TIFF’s rich tapestry. Across six volumes, I’m excited to share my reviews, offering snapshots of these cinematic experiences with links to full analyses as they’re published.
As always, TIFF reminded me why I love movies—their power to transport, challenge, and connect us. From hidden gems to high-profile premieres, this year’s lineup didn’t disappoint. I’m grateful for the opportunity to take it all in, for the city of Toronto’s warmth and energy, and for the anticipation of returning in 2025 for TIFF’s 50th Anniversary. Until then, here’s a look at the films that made TIFF 2024 such a memorable journey
THE BEST
Powerful waves of grief threaten a South Asian bodybuilder's confidence.
Ian Bawa’s character study of a South Asian bodybuilder grappling with grief initially suggests depth but quickly devolves into crude caricature.
Attempting to explore masculinity and emotional vulnerability through a funeral setting, THE BEST instead offers the worst; a disappointingly shallow examination that feels more like an awkward personal therapy session than genuine storytelling.
The lead character’s internal monologue, filled with explicit comparisons and reductive observations, fails to provide any meaningful insight, rendering the short film more uncomfortable than enlightening.
PAYING FOR IT
When an introverted cartoonist's girlfriend wants to redefine their relationship, he begins sleeping with sex workers and discovers a new kind of intimacy in the process.
Now this is a film that’ll make you lean in and pay attention.
Sook-Yin Lee’s adaptation of Chester Brown’s graphic novel is a revelation – a sex-positive, utterly frank exploration of relationships that defies every conventional narrative expectation. Based on her own personal history with Brown, PAYING FOR IT transcends typical biographical storytelling to become a nuanced peep into intimacy, consent, and human connection. Daniel Beirne brings an extraordinary openness to Chester, laying bare both physical and emotional vulnerabilities with a performance that’s simultaneously risky and disarmingly matter-of-fact.
When his live-in girlfriend Sonny requests the freedom to explore other partners, the film takes a deeply personal journey into the complexities of modern relationships. Lee doesn’t moralize or judge, instead presenting Chester’s subsequent exploration of paid sexual encounters with remarkable humanity and humor. It’s a Toronto-set narrative that manages to be simultaneously hilarious, uncomfortable, and profoundly thoughtful. The film dismantles preconceptions about sex work, relationship structures, and personal boundaries with a wit and warmth that feels revolutionary.
U ARE THE UNIVERSE
After Earth explodes, Ukrainian space trucker Andriy Melnyk becomes the last person in the universe until he receives a call from Catherine, a French woman on a distant space station. Despite the obstacles, Andriy decides to find her.
Launching another solitary space travel movie into orbit to compete with Gravity, Moon, and, to some extent, The Martian is a bold move. However, Ukrainian Pavlo Ostrikov’s striking film, U ARE THE UNIVERSE, conceived and produced during the ongoing war in Ukraine, is up for the challenge, and audiences coming to TIFF should make sure to seek this one out on the big screen.
It has some striking cinematic effects and takes the time to inject humor along with the pain of loss. While transporting nuclear waste from Earth to Jupiter’s moon, a space grunt (the terrific Volodymyr Kravchuk) is stranded in the stars when his home planet explodes, leaving him with only his onboard computer as his companion. A chance connection with a French woman marooned on her space station brings him back from hopelessness – but can they find one another in the void before their support systems run out?
Highly entertaining, Ostrikov’s film has one of the most beautiful closing moments in any movie I’ve seen at TIFF this year. I honestly gasped because, acxompanied by Mykyta Moiseiev splendid score, it’s a heartbreaking moment of purity.
SAD JOKES
Joseph and Sonya share an intimate friendship and their young son, whom they're raising together. While Joseph, a film director, is doubly preoccupied with a new idea for a film and with the aftermath of a previous relationship, Sonya suffers from depression. When she is hospitalized, Joseph must juggle both his everyday commitments and his artistic ambitions.
For his second feature, German writer-director-actor Fabian Stumm pulls at threads from his own life to make SAD JOKES, which had its world premiere at TIFF.
Stumm’s story revolves around a gay director attempting to get his next film off the ground while co-parenting a son with his best friend, a woman currently in treatment to help her through an ongoing struggle with depression. With more time in parent mode, his work falls by the wayside, as does his love life. Stumm’s character, Joseph, makes valiant attempts to keep it all organized, but a cool head under pressure can only stay chilled for so long.
In real life, Stumm is in a similar situation as a gay parent to a small child with a straight woman he has known for years. How much more of the film is autobiographical? Who can say? However, the scene of Joseph attempting to seal the deal with a hook-up but being interrupted by a crying child feels too real to be complete fiction. Stumm is an engaging actor and considerate director, like when he shares a scene with the wonderful Ulrica Flach as an art teacher who reveals a private side of herself in a dynamite one-take speech that will have you hanging on each and every word.
Short enough to keep from lingering too long, these are characters you wouldn’t mind sticking around with longer or wanting to see another glimpse into the lives of down the line. Also, the film opens with a series of jokes (sad jokes, if you will), some of which were howlingly funny.
SHEPHERDS
A young Montreal advertising executive, converted to a Provençal shepherd, has various misadventures with a civil servant who has cavalierly quit her job.
Sophie Deraspe’s pastoral exploration of a Montreal copywriter turned alpine shepherd is a visually stunning meditation that ultimately feels familiar, yet quietly compelling. This is one I wished I hadn’t screened at home because the cinematography begs to be seen on a big screen, capturing the majestic French Alps in all their rugged, grass flowing in the wind beauty. There’s a kind of poetry in watching a disillusioned city dweller chuck everything to learn a craft he knows absolutely nothing about, and Deraspe mines this premise for both humor and subtle philosophical inquiry. While the narrative hits many predictable beats of the “urban escape” genre, the film finds its strength in the small moments of genuine struggle and unexpected connection.
The landscape in SHEPHERDS becomes a character itself – harsh, unforgiving, yet strangely appealing all the same. Our protagonist’s journey isn’t just about finding himself, but about understanding the profound disconnect between romantic notions of pastoral life and its brutal realities. The cast brings an attentive, almost documentarian quality to their performances, making every moment feel lived-in and authentic. Yet for all its visual splendor and philosophical aspirations, the film never quite breaks free from its well-trodden narrative path, leaving viewers appreciative but not entirely transformed.
DO I KNOW YOU FROM SOMEWHERE?
A couple's life gradually unravels as their shared memories and experiences start disappearing, leaving them questioning the very foundation of their relationship.
What begins as an intriguing metaphysical meditation quickly becomes an exercise in narrative frustration that feels far longer than its actual 79-minute runtime. Arianna Martinez’s film promises a provocative exploration of relationship memory and connection, but instead becomes lost in its own increasingly convoluted concept. The initial premise of DO I KNOW YOU FROM SOMEWHERE? – a couple mysteriously disappearing from each other’s lives – hints at something profoundly interesting, a metaphysical puzzle box that might reveal deep truths about human connection.
However, the execution falls frustratingly short. The twist, which could have been a sharp narrative pivot, instead becomes a prolonged, increasingly tedious explanation that circles back on itself without revealing anything genuinely meaningful. Martinez seems more interested in the intellectual conceit of her concept than in creating a compelling emotional journey. By the time the film reaches its conclusion, viewers are more likely to feel exhausted than enlightened, the initial spark of intrigue completely extinguished by narrative overextension.
SHOOK
After a run-in with his estranged father, aspiring writer Ashish or "Ash" learns a secret that will force him to balance family, love and success while navigating the divide between the exciting city life he wants and his suburban reality.
On the surface, writer/director Amar Wala’s Scarborough-set dramedy SHOOK appears to be another story of a man coming to terms with his cultural identity and sorting out serious father issues in the process. Fine, but, we’ve seen this before, right?
As you go deeper, though, Wala’s film reveals a more practical way of thinking about the story of Ash and the way he navigates through the ups and downs of his relationships. There are fewer of the typical generational problems that are frequently introduced in similar films and more conversation-driven turns that let you further into the lives of these characters.
As Ash, Saamer Usmani balances the frustration his character feels about his personal relationships with his desire for success and blessedly doesn’t make him obnoxious in the process. I also continue to enjoy the splendid Amy Forsyth whenever she appears on screen, showing up here as a barista/love interest/anchor for our often at-sea protagonist.
THE PARTY'S OVER
A wealthy divorcée's life in southern Spain is disrupted when a young Senegalese immigrant seeks shelter in her toolshed, leading to a poignant story that blends humor and vulnerability.
Elena Manrique’s directorial debut emerges as a remarkably angled exploration of privilege, immigration, and human connection that defies simple categorization. Set in southern Spain, the film follows a wealthy divorcée whose life becomes unexpectedly intertwined with a young Senegalese immigrant seeking refuge in her tool shed. It’s a premise that could easily slip into heavy-handed social commentary, but Manrique’s deft touch transforms it into something far more complex and compelling.
Sonia Barba delivers a dynamite performance in THE PARTY’S OVER as the socialite, a woman whose casual privilege oscillates between genuine compassion and almost accidental cruelty. Her character becomes a living, breathing exploration of the thin line between benevolence and self-interest. Edith Martínez’s portrayal of Bilal is equally remarkable – a study in survival that captures the delicate balance between desperation and dignity. The film’s true brilliance lies in its ability to find humor and humanity in a situation fraught with potential for tragedy.
Manrique refuses to flatten her characters into simple archetypes, instead presenting a rich, layered narrative that speaks to broader questions of human connection, social responsibility, and the arbitrary nature of borders. It’s a film that manages to be simultaneously heartbreaking and unexpectedly funny, a delicate balancing act that few directors could pull off with such grace.
THEY WILL BE DUST
Claudia, a woman diagnosed with an incurable disease, decides to end her life in a clinic in Switzerland. Her significant other, Flavio, unable to face life without her, plans to die alongside her. Their daughter, Violeta, becomes an unintended mediator in this emotional journey.
Winner of the 2024 Platform Award, given to films of “high artistic merit that also demonstrate a strong directorial vision,” director Carlos Marqués-Marcet is going to bed $20,000 richer, and I’d suspect audiences who got to experience THE WILL BE DUST at TIFF feel the same way.
Starring the staggeringly good Alfredo Castro & Ángela Molina as a husband and wife who decide to end their lives in Switzerland when the wife is diagnosed with a terminal illness, Marqués-Marcet uses mortality as a way to have a cinematic conversation with his audience like you’ve never experienced before.
With a heavy dose of theatricality, the movie is part musical, part performance art, part dance piece, but all profoundly moving as a portrait of love that cannot be fractured by death, only grief. Instead of waiting around, missing his wife, Castro’s character decides to die with her, a choice the daughter the couple had together (both had a child from previous marriages) struggles to cope with. Not only is she losing her beloved mother, but her rock, her father, as well.
The musical interludes (be it singing, dancing, or both) are used wisely by Marqués-Marcet, having them spring out of emotion rather than be guided by a screenwriter’s whim. The movie is frequently devastating and stupendously sad, yet you won’t leave the film with those feelings. Instead, you’ll realize what a gift this experience was and what talent Marqués-Marcet has brought to the table (his and that of his company) so that we may work through our own fears and come out the other side ready to take on another day.
DAUGHTER'S DAUGHTER
A grieving mother navigates what to do with her deceased daughter's healthy embryo.
Huang Xi’s DAUGHTER’S DAUGHTER promises a profound exploration of grief, legacy, and maternal choice, but ultimately gets lost in its own narrative labyrinth. The core premise is undeniably compelling: a mother confronting the gut-wrenching decision of whether to proceed with her deceased daughter’s embryo. It’s the kind of ethical dilemma that could fuel hours of philosophical debate, a deeply personal choice laden with emotional and moral complexity.
Unfortunately, the film’s execution fails to match the power of its central concept. The narrative becomes an increasingly convoluted journey, jumping through time with a disorienting lack of clarity. Crucial plot developments are handled with such narrative clumsiness that viewers are left struggling to comprehend the basic progression of events. A major revelation late in the film had me rewinding my screener for multiple viewings just to fully understand its basic implications – and not in the intriguing, multilayered way a complex narrative might demand, but in a fundamentally confusing manner.
The presence of screen legend Sylvia Chang offers moments of true complexity, but even her considerable talents cannot entirely salvage a script that seems more interested in narrative gymnastics than genuine emotional exploration. What could have been a deeply moving dissection of grief, choice, and familial legacy instead becomes an exercise in frustration in storytelling technique.
THE COURAGEOUS
In a small town on the edge of wild country, an eccentric and delinquent mother has had enough of the rules.
Jasmin Gordon’s exploration of motherhood in THE COURAGEOUS arrives with the self-importance of a groundbreaking narrative, yet feels remarkably familiar to anyone who’s watched more than a handful of international indie dramas. Ophélia Kolb portrays Jule, a 40-year-old single mother navigating life’s challenges with a resilience that’s meant to feel revolutionary but instead reads like a well-worn character archetype. The Swiss setting promises a unique perspective, but the film ultimately treads ground that’s been extensively mapped in global cinema.
What’s fascinating is how the movie seems to believe it’s uncovering something profound about maternal struggle, when in reality, it’s presenting a narrative that could easily be transplanted to any number of cultural contexts with minimal adjustment. Kolb brings a layered performance that hints at deeper depths, her screen presence reminiscent of Amy Morton – so much so that one can already imagine a Hollywood remake taking shape. The film attempts to paint Jule’s journey as something extraordinary, but ultimately reveals the universal – and often overlooked – heroism of everyday maternal resilience.
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