Toronto, A Year Later

By Richard Corliss Sunday, Sept. 15, 2002
    • The Toronto International Film Festival had a sad intermission last year. The Sept. 11 attacks divided the 10-day event in two: a happy gathering of the cinema spirits, followed by a mournful, distracted coda. This year Toronto was back to being North America's largest, nicest movie convention. Between parties, one film reminded us of what we've learned in a year. Others offered pickings from the banquet of world cinema.

    11'09"01--September 11

    Eleven directors of international repute each made a film intended to be precisely 11 min., 9 sec. and one frame long. Some were poignant (Sean Penn's, on a man living in the shadow of the Towers), some funny (Idrissa Ouedraogo's parable of African boys who spot an Osama bin Laden look-alike and try to cop the $25 million ransom). Several (from England, Bosnia, Egypt and Israel) pointed fingers at the U.S., saying, in effect, other countries have suffered atrocities for decades, so welcome to the club, America. No surprise that the film has opened in Europe, but not yet the U.S.

    8 Mile

    Curtis Hanson (L.A. Confidential) directs the widely heralded acting debut of hip-hopper Eminem. This rappin' Rocky says that the white underclass should be as free as the black to mouth racist, misogynist, gay-bashing jive. The star is as yet no actor; he recedes into sullenness. But Eminem has a face made for movies. He's Tobey Maguire with 'tude.

    Les Diables/The Devils

    Two French orphans search for their faraway home. Doesn't sound like much, but this story of preteen love, devotion and possession was the find of the festival — a work of seamless art and broken heart — and a tonic to movie lovers bummed out by a tragic anniversary.

    Auto Focus

    In this film, Hogan's Heroes star Bob Crane (embodied here with scary blandness by Greg Kinnear) was a sex addict who enjoyed having his erotic acts recorded on video by a technician (Willem Dafoe) who often joined Crane in four-way frolics. As a cut-rate American satyr, Crane was Hugh Hefner without the mansion or the moves. And Paul Schrader's clinical docu-comedy is as grim as an autopsy after an electrocution.

    The Quiet American

    Based on the 1955 Graham Greene novel, Phillip Noyce's intimate epic dramatizes the mundane face of U.S. involvement in Southeast Asia. Its release has been delayed, but Oscar-minded Miramax had better get it out by the end of the year. As an Englishman whose political scruples lead him to abet murder, Michael Caine gives a suave, smartly controlled turn that is guaranteed a nomination.