By Dave McCoy
MSN Movies

Sept. 5, 2008

Welcome, dear readers, to the 2008 edition of the Toronto Film Festival, that gloriously crazed, 10-day event where Hollywood rolls out its winter slate of movies (many considered Oscar hopefuls), we get a glimpse at the best cinema the world has to offer and ... everybody would rather be talking about politics.

Yep, it's Day 1 of the festival, and yet, since I've arrived, there has been little-to-no discussion of movies. Instead, talk to a fellow journalist or a waiter or a festival volunteer or some random guy you meet in a bar and it's all about the upcoming election in the U.S., and, specifically, the two conventions. It's quite amazing to see reality dominating a place where fiction and art are usually dissected for two weeks.

But, really, let's be fair: Can Hollywood create something hysterically funnier than the Sarah Palin Chronicles, or a horrific fantasy as rich and scary as the Republican National Convention? And apologies to Brad and George and the rest, but Barack and Michelle are bigger celebs right now than any that will walk TIFF red carpets.

OK, sorry. My elite media bias is showing. Let's go to the movies ...

TIFF in 'Bloom'

People like to talk about sophomore slumps, the hangover that usually accompanies a second work by a filmmaker or novelist or band/musician. I was praying this wouldn't befall Rian Johnson, the writer/director who left me picking my jaw up off the floor with his smart, rapid-fire, heartbreaking 2005 debut, "Brick." The film, simply put, is one of the best of the decade; Johnson had the balls to take noir dialogue -- plus his own flourishes and vocab creations -- and tone and style (not to mention a ton of homage to the Coens' "Miller's Crossing") and stuff it into a contemporary high school setting. You either loved the film and understood what Johnson was accomplishing or you hated it and dismissed it with statements like, "Kids don't talk that way!" Uhhh ...

Anyway, so let's just say I've anticipated Johnson's follow-up, "The Brothers Bloom," for three long years and it was THE film on my list to see at TIFF. And, lucky me: It was the first film on my schedule.

I'm happy to report that "Bloom" didn't disappoint. Yes, it's messier and not as perfect as "Brick," but in many ways it's more ambitious and the risks are greater here. And yet, while he expands his tale over layers of time and a travel guide of worldly locations, Johnson's touch remains thoroughly his own, original and exciting, and his simultaneously poignant and hilarious character studies are still the core of his art.

The film opens with a background tale of two young orphaned brothers, Bloom and Stephen (aged 10 and 13, respectively), who at a very early age learned the art of the con. In this dizzying prologue, Johnson dresses his kids as grifters from a long-dead era, forces hipster words into their mouths and quickly establishes two thoroughly unique protagonists: Stephen the master schemer, the creator of the con, and moody Bloom, his pawn, forced to live an artificial existence made completely of the payoff. The 15-minute-or-so segment crackles with more life and energy and humor and visual artistry than 90 percent of most movies can muster. And, truth be told, the rest of the film never rises to its level, but a) it's impossible to sustain that momentum, and b) what follows is pretty damn fine on its own.

Jump ahead 25 years (to a Berlin that looks like it's 1920 ... but more on that in a bit) and nothing, except their success and notorious reputation, has changed for Stephen (Mark Ruffalo, perfectly, hysterically cast; the man does more with a grin ...) and Bloom (Adrien Brody). Stephen is still creating life, moving the brothers from con to con. And Bloom is depressed, suicidal and simply looking for an "unwritten life." After Bloom quits, Stephen convinces him to do one last con. Their mark? An eccentric, lonely New Jersey heiress, Penelope (Rachel Weisz, never better), who has one of the funniest film entrances I can remember. What follows is a worldwide scam, crossing oceans in decadent ships, traveling Europe in a train that looks lifted from the '50s, and a Byzantine con that keeps eating its own tail, only to barf it back up and devour it again. Meanwhile, time and place is constantly fluid ... as mentioned, you could be in contemporary times or stuck in a world long dead. For example, a walk next to a castle with two characters dressed like they are in a screwball comedy from the '30s is accompanied by a Dylan tune from "Nashville Skyline." Nothing is quite real, but is any of what we experience really real, or just a construction of our own imaginations?

At the film's center are men and women creating their own movies. And while that's exciting and fine for a while, the outcome is predetermined (Johnson marks plot points with Stephen's laid-out plan). Life becomes a façade, people are relegated to narrative prisons, and so when Bloom begins to fall for Penelope, the script gets messy. "I fell in love," he confusedly admits ... but is that just another con, perhaps the biggest of all?

I've made this sound so serious, so let me just note how absolutely insane and hysterical and laugh-out-loud funny the film is. The jokes range from quirky verbal one-offs to oddball visual gags and surreal tracking shots that reveal the smallest and funniest of jokes if you're paying attention. It's loose and free at times (sometimes a bit too much so). All of which means that I can't wait to see this thing again.

At one point Penelope shows up at a dock, where the brothers are about to embark on their big adventure. "Hey, where is that boat goin'?" she asks, hopefully. This film is that boat: Either jump aboard and let it wash over you. Or just jump ship ... and miss one hell of a ride.

'Town' Clown

Ricky Gervais ... Hollywood romantic lead? Yes, that Gervais, the slightly chunky, fang-toothed British genius behind the cringe-inducing protagonists from "The Office" and "Extras" has found himself a lead role in a by-the-numbers, big-studio rom-com ... and damn if the man doesn't save it. Actually, he just doesn't save "Ghost Town" -- he owns it. His performance will delight all his fans: He's understated, cynical and uncomfortable, tossing out droll one-liners and subdued insults while quietly suffering on the inside. Most of it must've been improvved (his romantic lead, Tea Leoni -- also great -- bursts into laughter at so many of his lines that you can feel the actress responding to the spontaneity). In fact, while David Koepp (the dullard who wrote the latest "Indiana Jones" movie and directed classics like "Stir of Echoes") may be listed as writer/director, you can almost picture Gervais sitting in the editing room and trying to massage this into something palatable, rather than what he signed on to make.

And what is that? Well ... Gervais plays a reclusive, cranky, people-loathing dentist (great job to have with this temperament: Just stick gauze in folk's mouths and they shut up). But after he goes in for simple surgery, something happens. When he leaves the hospital, he can suddenly see all of the ghosts populating New York. And they know he can see them and all have unfinished business keeping them stuck on Earth. Not a good spot for an isolationist. One man, a once-philandering lawyer (Greg Kinnear) bugs the dentist into resolving one issue: Make sure his ex-wife (Leoni), a person he cheated on and mistreated, doesn't remarry. This, naturally, forces our protagonist to actually interact with a human, but suddenly he finds himself feeling these long-repressed emotions and ... well you know the rest, right?

Outside of the brilliantly bizarre idea of casting Gervais in a romantic comedy, the movie smells of pure stale formula. The premise is an embarrassingly fantastical take on "Cyrano de Bergerac." It's full of sentimental clichés about second chances and living life for others, and you know exactly where it's headed from the moment you meet the characters. When Gervais or Leoni aren't improvising, the dialogue is excruciatingly wooden. And yet, there I was, laughing my ass off for most of it and, as it ended, bawling like a 5-year-old kid who'd lost his blanket (long, personal story ... probably too personal). The actors -- especially Gervais -- save the film in spite of itself, proving that sometimes a filmmaker's best move is to loosen the controls and ride the actors' talent as far as they'll take you. And give Koepp credit: In addition to Gervais and Leoni, he hired a very funny, unconventional cast, including Kristen Wiig and Aasif Mandvi (of "SNL" and "The Daily Show," respectively) and gave them room to do what they do best: Make us giggle.

I may hate myself in the morning, but right now? I'm happy.

Short Cuts

It isn't a film festival until you've seen something shocking on a big screen, something you'd only find at an event like this, rather than, say, your local multiplex. That 2008 honor belongs to "Dernier Maquis," a French look at Islamic blue-collar workers. Toward the beginning, a new convert is convinced he won't be a true Muslim until he is circumcised. So ... he does it himself. With scissors. On-screen. Welcome!

Dave McCoy is MSN Movies Lead Editor

Dave's next dispatch drops on Monday, Sept. 8. Also, catch Kathleen Murphy's In Fringe series, looking at the smaller indie and foreign films playing this year, starting Tuesday, Sept. 9.

Will you see "The Brothers Bloom" or "Ghost Town"? Write us at heymsn@microsoft.com