Le Dep

An ordinary day takes a turn for the worst when a crack smoking youth decides to rob the local dep in Sonia Boileau's Le Dep, a familiar face in possession of both lock and key, applying reason to his misguided plans, attempting to commiserate, while functioning as judge and jury.

Their dialogue takes an historical turn, their dialectic polarizing desperation and stability like trenchant tidal tripwire, a delicate balance required to soothe and mediate, the reality of the crime, harrowingly cautioning the nerve.

Ice cream headache.

Whiplashed fumes.

The film concerns contemporary First Nations issues, Lydia (Eve Ringuette) living the routine work-a-day life, PA (Charles Buckell-Robertson) suffering from issues of alcohol and drug abuse.

Stemming from childhood neglect.

And the legacy of the residential school system.

There's a powerful scene where their dialogue suddenly switches from the moment to the event PA's describing, the leap startling and profound, like the ending of Waltz with Bashir, a shocking heartfelt purge.

I may have just shown the child sitting alone on the ground at the party, confused and alone, for around 2 minutes, and then cut back to the present, although the extended scene provides added depth to the story, and helps Lydia's pacifying seem more maternal.

Both actors hold their own, commanding the bucolic script with parliamentary poise, not too brash, not too sentimental, in your face yet contemplative, disadvantaged youth, struggling to age with dignity.

Lydia stands in the middle of a shootout in the end, facilitating peace, rationalizing and peacekeeping, unafraid to voice alternative options, to find mutually beneficial solutions for two opposing factions.

In the thick of it.

Elle porte une tuque orange.

The Lucky One

Don't really know what to say about The Lucky One.

Lead character Logan (Zac Effron) certainly is lucky.

While fighting in Iraq, he discovers the picture of an enticing woman lying in the wreckage and keeps it close to his heart thereafter. Having safely returned to Colorado, he then decides to find her and sets out on foot, showing her picture to people he meets. He eventually finds her (Taylor Schilling as Beth Clayton) in a small town in Louisiana and she gives him a job working in her kennel.

Against her better judgement.

Her jealous manipulative ex-husband (Jay R. Ferguson as Keith Clayton) is a smug policeperson, the son of a wealthy mayoral candidate, and a secure member of the local petty bourgeoise.

He takes none to kindly to Logan.

But Logan isn't afraid, and boldly refuses to play ball, trusting instead in the power of love and the genuine incorruptibility of his good intentions.

And the fact that lonely Beth starts wanting a piece.

The film would have been stronger had Logan encountered other labourers who had run afoul of Mr. Clayton's coercive tendencies and formed a resistance of sorts to counteract his abusive privilege.

Old Testament justice is thunderously administered, but a different solution, one galvanizing the resolve of mistreated workers, would have provided The Lucky One with a collective edge, thereby intensifying the fluidity of its amour.

Conviction

A brother falsely incarcerated. A sister dedicated to setting him free. Unwavering belief synthesized with focused raw acute determination. An inspiring film modestly elevating the power of hope while proving that it's not just for the naïve or the foolhardy.

Tony Goldwyn's Conviction could have been much more sensational, attempting to sentimentally cater to our manufactured desires for explosions and vindictive polarized constructs. It could have melodramatically situated its plot within a broader context, focusing on life in prison, media dramatizations, or the challenges presented by trying to raise a family, work, and finish law school with hardly any financial or social resources. But it doesn't examine these dimensions, preferring to zero in on an unbreakable bond forged between brother and sister, investigating their relationship primarily in order to provide extended insights into the constructive potential of an enduring commitment.

Betty Anne Waters (Hilary Swank) isn't about boasting or vilifying or emoting, she prefers to achieve her goals objectively and doesn't let anything or anyone stand in her way, most of the time, even though the odds stacked against her seem insurmountable.

Kenny Waters (Sam Rockwell) isn't quite so level headed seeing how he's serving a life sentence for murder, but his sister's prudent, logical, affable recurring presence helps temper his suicidal tendencies.

Swank and Rockwell play their parts well and one of the only things missing from their interactions is an extended scene, one which probes the depths of their characters more thoroughly, without resorting to heartbreaking platitudes.

But such a scene perhaps would have been misplaced in Conviction, since it effectively works within the mainstream to instructively use a generic form to reach a wide audience for whom its message is much more positive than one latently conditioned by cynicism.

The structures preventing Kenny from being exonerated are formidable and entrenched. But they can still be challenged and remodelled.

One day at a time.