Ren (Adeline Lo) is an aspiring teenage actor with a dream of attending the Studio Northwest acting programme and saved cash to accompany it.
Ren’s mother (Olivia Cheng) reads the acceptance letter from Studio Northwest and the family is ecstatic. Life throws a wrench as Ren’s mother suddenly dies.
The family lives in decibel wise quasi-Blues Brother Chicago style lodgings with a subway rocketing below shaking the entire home. Funeral expenses of any substantial amount are not in the family’s budget as they soon determine after attending a funeral services provider DYING: Eternity Starts Here. Corporate smoothness and upsells echo about the corporate offices more a Shinto temple than a place of business.
Ren has the funds for a burial suitable for her mother but that means she will not attend her dream acting programme. What is her decision?
A poignant family drama intertwined with a gentle but cutting satire of the “funeral business”.
Vancouver is a world class hub for innovative and creative shorts as I have witnessed repeatedly with its Crazy8’s event. Just add on “Sorry for Your Costs” as world class short.
It will debut at the 48th Asian American International Film Festival on 3August2025 at the Regal Union Square Cinema.
“We were cold and frightened, and we were hungry, but, except for our father, we were not in despair. Our mother was holding on-grim silent and watchful, but not cheerless; she was determined to bring us to the daylight. But she had a lot to watch, a lot to carry. She was watching our father, praying that the daylight would come before he was forever broken; she was watching Caleb, praying that the daylight would come before his hope, which was his youth, should be forever destroyed and she was watching me, wondering what I was learning. The daylight may always come, but it does not come for everybody and it does not come on time.”
James Baldwin, “Tell Me When the Train’s Been Gone”, 1968.
Moving along from the Russian documentary “Russia at War”, “2000 Meters to Andriivka” presents a “reality show” featuring a battle in the Ukrainian Russian war. And we are serious about a “reality show” here as the viewer is presented with a gritty and horrific slice of raw reality where reality is the name of the game. Russian and Ukrainian soldiers dying and wounded before your eyes. Explosives all about, gunfire and Ukrainian soldiers ferreting out Russian soldiers from trenches either killing them or offering life by willingness to accept their surrender.
A small team of Ukrainian journalists, camera in hand, follows The 3rd Assault Brigade during a 2023 Ukrainian counteroffensive to retake the town of Andriivka from Russian troops. The Brigade must traverse a killing narrow swath of forest 2,000 meters ahead to retake the town. Ukrainian HQ directs the charge using drone technology to pinpoint enemy positions. Technology permits real time observation so precise individual soldiers may be pinpointed and “eliminated” by drones dropping explosives on them or directing Ukrainian troops where to position themselves. As in “Russia at War” this battle on the land is one driven by deadly technology.
Nestled in between combat footage are discussions with the main journalist (and director) and the Ukrainian soldiers, many of whom he notes died subsequently in other battles. The desperate nature of battle punctuated by pockets of relaxed humanity explaining what they did before entering the conflict and their views of why they are fighting. Unlike the Russian soldiers in “Russia at War” the Ukrainian soldiers have a clear purpose of liberating their country. One Russian soldier from a Russian satellite state, Abdul, is captured and asked by his Ukrainian captors why he is in the Ukraine he clearly has no idea.
At a very high cost the Ukrainians capture Andriivka but aside from rubble and rotting bodies Andriivka exists only in name. In a “Hamburger Hill” mode the Russians retake Andriivka in 2025.
Of course, you may be thinking about the futility of war sparked by watching this documentary but during war for many soldiers there is no luxury of time to muse about this maxim.
“Stelios” is yet another example of why widely ignored Greek cinema should be no longer ignored by filmgoers.
It is an epic film marking the rise of legendary Greek singer Stelios Kazantzidis (Christos Mastoras) from abject poverty in an Athenian refugee camp into Greece’s most beloved singer.
“Big Stelios”, affectionately referred to in his native Greece, fled the Pontian region of Greece to Athens with his mother and infant brother in 1945 after his father, a suspected Communist, was bludgeoned to death by Monarchist fighters in front of Stelios and his mother.
Stelios was discovered by a passing musician walking on the street in Athens hearing his voice drifting from an open window. Initially he performed in a small taberna in Athens and progressed to larger bouzoukias and subsequently to a stellar recording career. His lamentations on the difficult life and the tortures of Greek romantic relationships captured the soul of Greeks both in Greece and the Greek diaspora throughout the world.
Having been to Greece many times and attended many Greek community events in North America I know the voice well. It is inescapable in Greece. It is magnetic and deeply soulful. Perhaps I might make a comparison of Big Stelios to B.B. King, Leona Boyd, Jimmy Hendrix and Frank Sinatra the latter being an admirer of Kazantzidis stating if he was singing in America, he would be more popular than me!
This film has all the elements of an epic; history, romance, a nasty and domineering mother-in-law “Fonissa” style, gangsters, manipulative music moguls and even absurdity a la Lanthimos!
That scene with the two gangsters crashing the bouzoukia with guns and grenades with one of them dancing revolver in hand is a priceless scene of terror and absurdity one might expect in a Lanthimos film! Surely this scene will be known as a classic Greek cinema moment.
The dancing gangster!
Kazantzidis’ existential struggle, a central theme of the film, is between Stelios as a man and Kazantzidis as a legend. It examines the exploitation of Greek musicians by Columbia Records and Minos Records and Kazantzidis’ struggle to strike a fairer deal for musicians in Greece.
The film also points to the temper, selfishness, Oedipal complex and moral cruelty of Kazantzidis. The man was no saint.
The film has had theatrical releases in 15 countries and at a yet to be determined date in August will be released on VOD.
For Canadians the film can be viewed at the upcoming Greek International Film Festival Tour Canada screening in 11 Canadian cities 26September-5October2025. Check out their website for further details at https://gift.ca
“And then, abruptly one is at the Italian frontier. They seem extremely surprised, but, on the whole, delighted that you decided to drop by. Between extravagant offers of extravagant dinners, and impassioned questions as to what drove you from your part of the world, they are perfectly willing to glance at your passport and stamp it on a random page. They swear eternal brotherhood, and so you pass out of their offices and out of their lives.”
James Baldwin, “Tell Me When the Train’s Gone”, 1968.
“Within seconds, the time it takes to cross a small backyard (French customs), one has left this outpost, the last witness to this indisputably dour and extraordinarily interesting people and one is facing the apple faced Swiss. Their quarters are impeccable, as are their uniforms. The Swiss do not smoke their cigarettes but leave them quietly burning in one of their millions of ashtrays. Their uniforms are ironed every morning and laundered every night; and the man within the uniform would find himself in something worse than purgatory if he were not laundered and ironed too. He examines everything very carefully, passport, luggage, voyager; causes one to think of the dirty socks and shorts in one’s baggage, one’s filthy armpits and abruptly active intestines; is unspeakably polite. As patient as a ferret, as distrustful as a thief; and when one has escaped the Swiss correctness, one feels that one is being pursued-they are hoping to delude you into leading them to your accomplice.”
James Baldwin, “Tell Me How Long the Train’s Been Gone”, 1968.
I had the pleasure of visiting Magnum wines in Portugal a few years ago. A very commercial winery in comparison to most of the other Dão wineries I visited. I remember well the commercial Christmas cases and displays. So nontraditional for most of Portugal at the time. Good quality wines at different price points corresponding to a few “brands”.
This wine is a blend of Touriga Nacional (40%), Alfrochiero (30%) and Tinta Roriz (30%).
Aroma: Blackberry, black cherry, blueberry with an overlay of smoked meat and dark chocolate.
Palate: Brusque, scratchy, rough and tumble but not coarse. Full mouthfeel and some friction on the after palate you’d expect more from a white Dão Encruzado. Granitic soils at work. Medium finish.
Personality: No nonsense down to business. Plays all its cards on the table now. Honest as aged in stainless steel but it reminds one just a bit more of concrete perhaps attributable to the granitic soils of the area imparting some steeliness to the wine. Apparent and in your face.
Food Match: For a French bistro wine this is your wine. Move over Côtes du Rhône! Rabbit at my favourite traditional Portuguese “bistro” in Porto Abadia do Porto or perhaps Tripas à Modu do Porto in which case the wine should be served chilled.
Tripas!
Cellarbility: Drink by 2026-year end.
Price: $17 CDN.
RKS 2025 Wine Rating: 89/100.
(Cota 700 2022, Dåo D.O.C., Magnum Wines, Carregal do Sal, Portugal, 750 ml, 13%).
Being certified in mindfulness from both the University of Toronto and the University of Leiden I might venture to say I have both a North American and European perspective of mindfulness. Being frank there are some flaky elements to mindfulness but some concepts should (or could) be applied to your hernia adventure.
There is more than your pain to focus on and excessive focus on that may lead to an unhealthy obsession.
Express some self compassion. You have been through diagnosis and surgery and despite some commentary noting the “minor nature” of hernia surgery you prepped in perhaps less than a modest nature, are anesthetized in several possible ways some of which are highly stressful and then are left in pain. BUT YOU MADE IT! Congratulate yourself. If you are suffering it is therapeutic to show yourself some compassion which is a notch over sympathy. Yes you may be in pain and suffering but lamenting your “sorrowful state” may do little more than augment your suffering. Take some pride in yourself and understand there is nothing ashamed to feel pain and discomfort. Give yourself a break.
Mindfulness has an in the moment focus and if you meditate, you’ll understand that. You think this type of meditation comes easy? Think again. It took me months to learn the technique. Being in the present moment is an art and for all its faults and hyped benefits what it might accomplish for you is the ability to focus on the present and avoid rumination on the past. What matters is not so much your past suffering but what is happening to you now. The happenings of the past are over. You are in the present and recuperating from hernia surgery which may be an unpleasant road to travel but you are further along the road today at this moment than you were yesterday, tritely said think better days are ahead and jettison the past sufferings.
“The man at the frontier has cigarette ashes all up and down his uniform, and a cigarette is established between his lips. He has not the remotest interest in the voyager, or his passport. Sometimes he forces himself to squint at both. Sometimes he looks at the baggage, sometimes not. Sometimes he stamps the passport; sometimes one has to ask him to stamp it. His office, were it not in France, would remind one of nothing so much as a cell in purgatory; and he and his confreres seem to feel that they are serving a sentence which they probably, after all, deserve.”
James Baldwin, “Tell Me When the Train’s Leaving”, 1968.
“I never knew her to dress in any other way. She must have had hundreds of black dresses and scarves-though-in fact, a black and impetuous toque sometimes did duty for the scarf, This, however, was mainly on opening nights. She impressed me-she impresses me still-as one of the most curious, most loving, devious, ruthless, and single-minded people I have met in all my life. She was brilliantly and brutally manufactured: she had not grown into her present shape but had been hammered into it, or perhaps, as in some unspeakable vat, been lowered. Her hands were white and pudgy and soft. Yet, they were not without power, and the fingers were elegant. One felt that the pudginess of the hands was no more inevitable than the rings they bore-rather awful rings; that trapped within Lola San-Marquand, was a beautiful dying girl. But alas, fatally, overwhelmingly at last, one became aware of the odor of that corruption.”
James Baldwin, “Tell Me How Long the Train’s Been Gone”, 1968.