TIFF24 Dispatch: “The Wild Robot,” “Relay,” & More
This review was originally posted on Film Obsessive.
The 2024 Toronto International Film Festival is into its second week! Film Obsessive’s News Editor, Tina Kakadelis, is sleep deprived and solely existing on caffeine and the Canadian delicacy known as poutine. In her latest dispatch, she breaks down Do I Know You From Somewhere?, Really Happy Someday, The Wild Robot, Pepe, and Relay.
Do I Know You From Somewhere?
Courtesy of TIFF
As someone who struggles with recognizing people’s faces, the question, “do I know you from somewhere” strikes fear in my heart. In the case of Arianna Martinez‘s directorial debut, Do I Know You From Somewhere?, people are forgetting each other, but it’s not through any fault of their own. Olive (Caroline Bell) and Benny (Ian Ottis Goff) have been in a relationship for seven years. They live together, they’re planning for a future, and they love each other deeply. Yet strange things are happening around the house. A wooden wagon appears out of nowhere with a card addressed to a name that means nothing to them. Even more ominous, numbered magnets keep appearing on their fridge, seemingly counting down to something.
Do I Know You From Somewhere? is a clever means of capitalizing on the trend of multiverse movies, but with a small budget and no special effects. The film essentially shows two paths of Olive. The one she knows, a life with Benny, and the one she doesn’t. What would her life be like if, instead of spending the night with Benny all those years ago, she had instead spent it with Ada (Mallory Amirault)?
The film’s central desire to see both paths of a forked road is one that will likely relate to anyone who has made a seemingly innocuous choice and wondered what would have happened if things had been slightly different. Martinez does a good job of balancing the characters’ confusion while telling a compelling story for the audience – who is aware of what’s going on. The film’s shortcoming is that we never get the sense that Olive is hung up on the choice she made years ago. Her relationship with Benny, as it’s presented, is loving and happy. There’s no indication that Olive is wondering about the color of the grass on the other side. Yet, it’s almost presented as though she’d made a mistake years ago. Nevertheless, Do I Know You From Somewhere? looks to be the beginning of something special for Martinez’s career.
Really Happy Someday
Courtesy of TIFF
What is a person’s voice beyond a means of communication? What does it mean when our voice changes, or doesn’t line up with how we perceive ourselves? How do you find power in a voice that is your own, but doesn’t feel like it is?
These are the questions that plague the main character of Really Happy Someday. Z (Breton Lalama) is a trans man who has dreams of making it to Broadway. Before he transitioned, he was the talk of the Toronto theater scene, but since starting testosterone, his voice hasn’t been the same. After a failed audition, Z begins working with a singing coach (Ali Garrison) in order to regain his confidence and to do the thing he loves again.
Trans stories are still too few and far between, especially ones created by and starring people with direct personal experience that relates to what’s on screen. In the case of Really Happy Someday, Lalama and director J Stevens co-wrote the story inspired by their own experiences. Both love musical theater and Lalama is a performer, but no scene is directly lifted from their lives. Despite that, it feels at times as though the audience is watching a documentary. Really Happy Someday draws inspiration from vérité-style films to give audiences an honest look into an aspect of the trans experience many aren’t familiar with.
The Wild Robot
Courtesy of TIFF
Director Chris Sanders has made a name for himself in his ability to make audiences cry. He’s the man behind Lilo & Stitch and the How To Train Your Dragon series, both of which are beloved, humanistic stories starring small, animated creatures. Now Sanders has adapted Peter Brown’s bestselling children’s books into The Wild Robot. The story follows Rozim 7134 (Lupita Nyong’o), a robot who washes ashore on an island inhabited only by animals. She’s programmed to help, but there are no humans around. Rozim 7134 is having trouble finding a purpose until she discovers a small gosling living all on his own (Kit Connor) and decides to raise him.
There is so much heart in The Wild Robot. From the gorgeous, lush animation to the charming cast of animals (and equally charming human voice actors), even the steeliest in the audience will feel a tear roll down their cheek. The Wild Robot urges its characters to lead with kindness, even if it goes against their programming or animalistic nature. Perhaps the film’s only shortcoming is its own set-up. These animals all live on an island and are each other’s food source. The film doesn’t shy away from that reality, but, as all family flicks do, The Wild Robot anthropomorphizes all of the island creatures. As the movie works toward its thesis of choosing kindness, even if it goes against your nature in the name of survival, maybe only the adults in the audience will begin to ponder what happens when the animals make it through the hardship. They have to return to the predator/prey dynamic, but they also spent the winter months caring for each other. Of course, as the tears are rolling down your cheeks and you’re reminded that kindness and love are really the most essential ways we can guide our lives, you’re willing to overlook some things.
Roz, as Rozim is affectionately called by her animal friends, overrides her programming to become more like these creatures than her fellow robots. “Please,” she mutters at the film’s climax, “I want to keep my memories.” We are the sum of our memories. We grow into the best version of ourselves if we surround ourselves with those who encourage us to grow. Even if we are scared or lonely, we can look back at past experiences and use them as a means of finding the strength to go on. The Wild Robot is gentle and loving, a humorous take on parenthood through the eyes of a robot.
Pepe
Courtesy of TIFF
Pepe tells the story of the life and death of a prized hippo once owned by Pablo Escobar. Whatever sound you’re picturing for the voice of a hippo from beyond the grave, it pales in comparison to the four actors whose voices are distorted to be Pepe (Jhon Narváez, Harmony Ahalwa, Shifafure Faustinus, & Fareed Matjila). The film is an experimental ode to the only hippopotamus killed in the Americas.
For non-experimental film lovers, Pepe is at its best when the disembodied voice of a ghostly hippo turns existential. There’s something oddly endearing about hearing musings on life from a 3,500-pound animal who seemingly knows nothing about the pain of the human existence. At other points, Pepe turns into a travelogue of sorts, detailing the places in Colombia that Pepe and his fellow hippos roamed. As someone who sometimes struggles to connect with experimental films, there is a lot to love in Pepe, although that may be because of a fondness for the creature.
At the end of the day, Pepe fits perfectly into director Nelson Carlo de los Santos Arias’ usual blending of a variety of film styles together. It’s a pastiche of sorts with audio snippets, archival footage, and some really beautiful nature cinematography. Sometimes, it takes your eyes a second to process what’s on the screen. What looks like an extreme close-up of fruit seeds is actually an extreme long shot of hippos floating in a river. While Pepe still has quite the hurdle for the non-experimental film fans, it also stands out as one of the most imaginative works of the festival so far.
Relay
Courtesy of TIFF
David Mackenzie’s Hell or High Water has become something of an off-the-beaten-path favorite. His latest film, Relay, addresses themes similar to those in Hell or High Water. Riz Ahmed stars as Ash, a “fixer” who is an intermediary between companies and whistleblowers. People who steal company secrets and decide they no longer want to expose the truth (likely because of the intimidation) seek out Ash. Lily James’ Sarah is one of those would-be whistleblowers who was cc’d on an email at a bio-tech company about the adverse effects of a new crop. What starts as a regular case turns into something more personal as the duo begins to connect.
Relay is a cat-and-mouse chase film that has more than its fair share of misdirections. Until the film’s final twist, the dodges and weaves are a genuine thrill. Just when there seems to be a firm footing, Relay rips the rug out from under the audience. Justin Piasecki‘s construction of the set pieces is quite well-done, but the final twist leaves something to be desired.
Ahmed is his usual steely, quiet self, but to a bit of an extreme. His character doesn’t speak until near the mid-point of the film. This leaves the bulk of the dialogue in the hands of James, and it can be quite difficult acting against silence or purposefully monotone characters. At its core, Relay is a throwback to the paranoid thrillers of the ’90s. The ending is a little nonsensical, but it’s still a ride to be enjoyed.
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