They say that comedians are often the saddest souls around. It might follow then, that the toughest guys are also the most vulnerable. But if Mike Tyson is an indication of what lurks beneath a bad-ass, vulnerability is only the beginning.

“Iron” Mike grew up on the meanest streets of Brooklyn, a place where the entire cast of The Hills would be eaten alive. The crime life called out at an early age, and by the time Tyson was 13, he was already arrested 38 times. 38 times!

It all started with an altercation on the street that had him running for his life. He was just a kid when he had his first personal encounter with the incomprehensible malice humans can inflict on each other. That moment instilled a deep sense of fear in young Mike and he resolved to never be in that emotional state again.

The film goes on to chronicle his relationship with mentor and trainer Cus D’Amato, the man responsible for lighting the spark of Tyson’s blazing championships. The psychological strength he gains is awe-inspiring. He learns to defeat his opponents before the matches even start.

At times I question whether the documentary was made by his allies or his enemies. There are allegations he gets to lash at (the infamous rape accusation that would land him three years in the slammer), but there are instances, like a racially-charged, homophobic rant that do more to harm his image than restore it. And his cringe-worthy candidness of his sexual pursuits. Of course, it all underscores the goal of illuminating the mystery surrounding this controversial figure. And the things he reveal, are quite astounding.

The most compelling moments in the film come out of Tyson’s emotional telling of his tortured youth, his harrowing accounts of prison life and his own riveting admissions of the deep-seated fear that propelled his animal drive to win. The eyes of the beast are cold and menacing, but the seat of his soul is rife with grief and regret.

Tyson is a complex figure, easily dismissable on account of his wild, inexplicable actions and his flagrant fall from grace. But the documentary invites waves of compassion and even sympathy as we realize that a life once reduced to mere spectacle is actually just a product of the human condition.

Watching “Where the Wild Things Are” felt like one giant acid trip. Not that I’ve ever experienced such a thing. In fact, no one’s ever even said to me “Hey man, why you trippin?” But I imagine, that if I were to ever find myself sliding down that slippery slope, it would involve cuddly, ferocious, over-sized friends who want to eat me up one minute and make me their king the next.

The classic children’s tale written by Maurice Sendak is of course an ode to the childhood imagination and the possibilities found within the pure, untainted and unbridled mind of a child. But the film version was directed by Spike Jonze, the visionary behind such films as “Being John Malkovich”, and award-winning music videos like FatBoy Slim’s “Praise You”, an unusual work that could only arise out of a left of center mind, an imagination that defies boring conventions. So when I heard that Jonze would be directing Wild Things, I knew it wouldn’t be targeted to standard soccer moms and their toy-toting tots. I knew it would be special. And special is the right word.

Anyone expecting a Pixar/Disney morality tale will surely be disappointed. Anyone watching it while high on the natural spices of life, will probably have a rumble-tumble good time. And anyone like me who finds pure pleasure in seeing cuteness magnified and oversized, will be delighted.

The hand-held camera action takes us up close into the world of the wild things – larger than life muppets packed with personality and a frightening unpredictability that suggests we shouldn’t get too comfortable in their presence. It’s really no place for a kid. But our hero, nine-year old Max, who escapes into this strange place after a real-world altercation with his mother, confidently, yet innocently navigates his surroundings as he explores the mysterious land where characters clash and emotions flare up like a mammoth-sized match. In this world Max encounters and tries to understand the sources of his own behavioral outbursts as he stares into the eyes of the beasts and witnesses their inherent humanity.

I was in love with the concept, with the idea of this movie. And in the end, I found myself wanting to like the film much more than I actually did. I was enthralled by the trailer’s phenomenal pairing of moving images with Arcade Fire’s anthemic and uplifting “Wake Up”, an ode to the innocence of childhood and the wilderness of the real world, where bizarre fixtures are the norm and sentimental hearts are torn, where hopes and tears collide like blazing particles of raging sunlight. I was hoping the film would deliver something as emotionally-impacting, something more life-affirming and soul-stirring. I guess my colossal expectations were far too much for a movie spawned from a 10-sentence book.

And that is the movie’s main shortcoming – there was very little source material to work with and one can only eke out so much plot. At times you find yourself wondering what the point really is. You’re bewildered by the peculiar interactions and dispositions of the Wild Things. They act like children but sound like adults. They’re more like a band of lost hippies, isolated in a bizarre evolutionary warp with very little to do; at times it feels more like the side-effect of hallucinogens rather than pure imagination, and that inescapable tripped-out feeling is not always engaging, but it’s mostly entertaining.

What really saves the film, is the attachment one forms to those Wild Things – the tumultuous, reckless and humurous collective that make the experience worthwhile. They are what we’re here to see. When Max has to go back home, you don’t really want him to leave. There’s more to see and discover and there’s possibly more they can teach. For Max, the parting is bittersweet. And while the adventure doesn’t transport us to all the places we want to go, the off-beat experience still makes this a trip worth taking.

This movie is not for the Katherine Heigl, Jennifer Aniston or Kate Hudson camp. You can add Matthew McConaughey to that list, because this isn’t your standard romantic comedy. In fact, it’s not even a love story, according to the narrator, “It’s a story about love” – a witty, fresh, funny and insightful look into something most of us can actually relate to.

The film triumphs on many levels, the first of which is casting, specifically, Joseph Gordon Levitt. I’m kind of shocked. After all, I’ve only really known him as that guy in “Third Rock From the Sun”. And despite being somewhat of an indie-king, he’s remained under the radar for quite some time. Well, not anymore. Thanks to the success of the sensitive, nice-guy role, he’s going to be fighting off hoardes of hormonal females. (Note to my male readers: girls DO like nice guys!)

He plays Tom, an insanely likeable would-be architect who spends his work days in an office writing greeting cards. Zooey Deschanel is Summer, the charming free spirit who tests his faith in love and fate after getting a job in the same workplace. This character-driven film centers on the formation and progression of a 500 day love affair that finds them dipping in and out of a tangy, bittersweet love jar, replete with Beatles banter, Ikea-escapades and rainy-night apologies. Gordon-Levitt keeps it all together with a puppy-dog sincerity and bashful insecurity, as he attempts to eke out a real relationship from their romance; Summer doesn’t believe in true love, nor does she like the idea of being “anybody’s anything.”

Why does the movie succeed? Because it takes viewers away from the usual chick-flick angle that assumes love is easy once the attraction is formed – that all anyone really needs is the right song and the right moment of breathless desperation to realize they are “meant to be”.

500 Days has nothing of that nature. It’s smart and it’s real. It’s a straight-shooter without any excess sugar (although it is sweet), taking traditional gender roles and spinning it like a vinyl record. It’s the boy who experiences the falling in love, the chasing, the waiting and the heartbreak. And it finds the girl, with her hipster sensibilities approaching the relationship with an airy detachment and a cool nonchalance that insists on being happily uncommitted.

But why does this feel like a revelation? Is regular Hollywood unaware that not every female is a clinging vine? Don’t they know that sensitive new-age guys are increasing in numbers and dudes can be hopeless romantics too? I happen to know a handful of such men and it’s nice to finally see a movie reflect this not-so-uncommon reality.

And it doesn’t get any realer than the pursuit of a love that inherently holds no guarantees. How can anyone be sure?

Soul-stirring songs scaffold the pivotal moments where truth obscures love and hope becomes heartbreak, turning doubt into confusion and anger into tears. A song that’s sure to win the iTunes sales game and multiple Youtube views is “Us” by Regina Spektor, (the one you hear in the trailer) for it will forcefully feed you scenes from the movie long after you’ve seen it. That’s a good thing. This is the power of a film that strikes out in defiance of aged customs and used clichés. It takes us by the waist and waltzes us into split screen “reality vs. ideal” scenarios, non-linear time-lines, a hilarious, celebratory dance number and drunken karaoke (ok, so some clichés remain).

I didn’t really like the ending (as clever as it was) because here’s where it dives into standard Hollywood “destiny” fare, pretty much losing the credibility it built up until that point. It’s charming yes, but it’s all too convenient. I suppose it serves as a reminder that this is just a movie after all – albeit one that, like life itself, is funny, sweet and utterly unpredictable.

Overall, it’s one of the best films I’ve seen in the last 60 days of summer.

Earlier this summer I attended the Montreal premiere of Paper Heart, starring Charlyne Yi (who incidentally was on hand to present the film – more on that later) and if you’ve seen the trailer, then the movie is pretty much everything you expect it to be: cute, clever, quirky, funny and original.

The topic itself wasn’t anything novel (it’s about “true love”), but the approach used to broach the subject was pretty unique – the combination of real life interviews with real people and the fictitious storyline of her own blossoming romance with the uber-swoonworthy Michael Cera (armored with his usual awkward charm). “Is Michael like that in real life?” an audience member asked after the screening. According to Charlyne he’s not – he’s actually much more confident and likes to sing Barenaked Ladies songs – good to know!

Honestly, I can’t really trust online resources anymore, because I’ve read everywhere that they were actually dating in real life. See, in the movie she unwittingly ensnares Michael’s interest and they embark on a bond. Then, in the trails of true cinematic fashion they encounter a conflict, which is foreshadowed by Charlyne’s visit to a psychic. I won’t spoil the ending, but after the movie a curious audience member asked “Are you guys still dating?” to which Charlyne replied “No, because we were never dating (in real life).” Huh? But Wikipedia said…  Well, there goes my faith in the Almighty Wiki.

Anyways, onscreen there was some really fun chemistry between the two of them with Michael easily setting hearts aflutter everywhere. He doesn’t induce a Robert Pattinson-type mania, but his appeal seems rooted in something more real – he’s perfected that guy-next-door schtick to a tee and that familiarity does indeed breed liking, if not all-out obssessing.

Airy and uninundated by heavy concepts, this light docu-comedy looks at love through question-marked glasses, inviting both humourous and absurd answers.  Charlyne’s query leads her to several states, from Oklahoma, to Georgia where she talks to highschool seniors about to tie the knot, bikers, divorcees, young kids on a playground, and some of her own friends, like Seth Rogen who ends his sentence with that contagious trademark teddy-bear laugh, which scores points from the crowd.

What I appreciated most about the movie was the genuine humour that arose out of subtle incidents – facial expressions, reactions, Charlyne’s personal oddities – the comedic moments don’t rely on the Sasha Baron Cohen brand of overly-outrageous gags, instead, they are crisp, clever and a tad self-conscious – which is very fitting for someone like Charlyne. Her presence at the screening really illuminated the human side of film stars; she was nervous the whole time but funny all the same, she’s also a bit strange which makes her cool in her own way. This personality quirk smoothly permeates the entire film, creating a charmingly offbeat experience for everyone involved, viewers included.

Below are some pics of my film buddy Jeff with Charlene. She admitted to being nervous about the film’s reception, unsure if anyone would like it. Jeff assured her it was awesome. Good job Jeff!

Special thanks to my pal Walter for the following post on his meeting with the surprisingly hot, Eli Roth.

Is it wrong to liken a Jewish guy to the first pope?
by W.J. Lyng

The first time I saw Reservoir Dogs was a major moment in my life. The film not only introduced me to Quentin Tarantino, it also opened the door to the myriad of pop culture which had inspired the auteur, exposing me to a world of awesome I’m not quite sure would have been otherwise as easily accessible. Obviously, since then, I’ve been an insane QT devotee, taking as gospel not only his own directorial efforts, but the films of his well known entourage as well. If Quentin liked Robert Rodriguez so much, then I probably would too. This turned out to be absolutely true. Later, when his non-sexual man crush turned towards the young cocky horror director / geek Eli Roth, I followed along and have come to develop an admiration for him too. Of course, it helped that I’m kind of a big horror guy and that Roth had seemingly chosen to devote the entirety of his career to bringing us fantastically executed splatter fests.

Try then, just try for the briefest of moments, to imagine my excitement as I sat in Concordia university’s hall theatre at a quarter to ten on the closing night of the Fantasia film festival, awaiting not only a three week early preview screening of Quentin Tarantino’s latest oeuvre Inglorious Basterds, but also an appearance by none other than Eli Roth himself, one of the film’s stars.

At the risk of sounding sacrilegious, it was like getting an audience with the apostle Peter instead of seeing J.C. himself. This right here was THE MAN’S right hand man. My head was gonna pop.

I sat as close as possible to the screen without my eyes getting wet. As they went through the boring motions of naming the winners of the various categories from the festival, I could see Roth standing a few rows behind me against the wall, flanked by some studio heavies. Finally, Roth was called to the stage. I’m pretty sure I came close to restraining-order levels of cheering. At the very least, I’m relatively confident that I was the first to stand up and give the guy a standing O.

Roth proceeded to gush about his overwhelmingly positive relationship with Fantasia over the years, talking about the terrific sensation he felt when a then unknown Cabin Fever screened at the festival back in the day to an amazing crowd reaction. He explained, that Quentin himself had forced the studio’s hand to arrange this special screening, ensuring that Montreal’s fantasia crowd would be the first audience in Canada to see Inglorious Basterds. (Suck it Toronto).
It was almost like my whole life had been leading up this one moment …

The movie came and went in a Nazi-riddled frenzy of blood, guts and snappy dialogue. Just to talk a little about the film itself ( a novel concept), Basterds simultaneously delivers everything you expected out of the film based on the trailers, plus a whole hell of a lot more. It’s ‘guys on a mission’ combined with revenge combined with revisionist history. It’s also a movie about movies and not in the referential way that all of Tarantino’s movies are but in more of a tangible way that film, war and history buffs will likely appreciate. It’s over the top at moments and subdued by QT standards at other moments. It’s pretty freakin’s awesome, all in all.

Then the movie was over and it was Eli time again. He came back on, almost just as psyched as the audience. They opened it up to Q&A and you can bet your ass that I got a question in. Admittedly not a very original question, I got to ask if Eli was the only one considered for his role as the bat wielding “Bear Jew.” Although uninspired, the question drew good anecdotes from Roth about working with Tarantino and the revelation that both Adam Sandler and Seth Rogen had been considered for the role. I was in geek heaven … and then it got better.

The Q&A finished and Eli was quickly ushered out of the theatre. Damn, I thought. So much goes my chance for an autograph … of course I just happened to have copies of Hostel 1 and 2 on me … I exited the theatre and THERE HE WAS! Just standing around!!! I got the autographs first and then quickly went to retrieve my camera and cell phone from security, with whom we’d had to check the items for concerns of piracy.

I went back into the swarm of fans (ok, not THAT big a swarm) and asked Eli, whom I now considered to be a close personal friend, if a picture would be too much to ask for. Of course he obliged. And now I have Facebook profile picture that shall never be changed.

It was just the pinnacle of awesome.