I join CTV NewsChannel anchor Marcia MacMillan to talk about the Golden Globes, and how my top[ pick, “Marty Supreme” may face an uiphill battle as we get closer to the Oscars.
Watch the whole thing HERE!
To paraphrase James Baldwin, “The most dangerous creation of any society is the woman who has nothing to lose.” “In the Fade” (“Aus dem Nichts”), the new thriller from German director Fatih Akin, brings this truism to life.
When we first meet Katja (Diane Kruger in her first German language film) she has a normal life. Living in Germany, married to Turkish immigrant accountant Nuri (Numan Acar), she has a young son named Rocco and a large extended family. Her well ordered life is disrupted, forever changed, when Nuri and Rocco are killed in a Neo-Nazi nail bomb attack. Her life in shards she attempts suicide, endures a drawn out court trial—“Imagine if they had gotten me and Rocco and Nuri had lived. He wouldn’t have stood for all this chit chat,” she says of the court case.—and finally, a showdown between her and the people responsible for tearing her life apart.
“In the Fade’s” story of terrorism and violence against immigrants is a timely one. Footage like the bombed out storefront where Nuri did business have become commonplace on the nightly news. What is less commonplace, on the news anyway, is the revenge aspect. Her need for vengeance, no matter the cost, drives the final third of the film.
Broken into three distinct segments, “The Family,” “Justice” and “The Sea,” the film almost feels like three separate shorts bound together by one character. Kruger is the glue that makes the movie as compelling as it is. A churning vessel of rage, hurt and despair, she is a very human presence at the centre of a bleak story.
“In the Fade” closes with a title card detailing the violence against immigrants in Germany each year. It is a powerful statement made in a movie that drives the point home by honing the horror of widespread violence down to one, very personal story.
Overrated is the last word I would use to describe Meryl Streep as an actress or interview subject. Like everybody else I’ve admired her work from the early fresh-faced roles in films like Manhattan to the emotional catharsis of Kramer vs. Kramer, through her accent phase and beyond.
I’ve also interviewed her several times. In our conversations, as in her controversial speech at the Golden Globes, she’s always been forthright, fearless and nothing less than gracious.
Our first chat was eleven years ago at the A Prairie Home Companion television junket in Minnesota. I’ve done dozens, probably hundreds of these things and the only thing they have in common is the amount of time wasted sitting in hotel hallways, cooling heels until the stars are ready to speak. Experience taught me to always bring a book, the thicker the better, to pass the time.
I read until it was time to talk with Streep. With a list of questions and my book I sat opposite her under hot TV lights and the unblinking gaze of the cameras, familiar but formal territory. Then she did remarkable. Before my first question she asked me one.
“What book are you reading?” No actor had ever asked me about my ever-present book. She then asked me what I liked about it. As we chatted amiably I realized I was being seduced by the Streep charm.
She was working her magic, doing what she does in her work; taking our time beyond the professional and into the personal. She took a moment to make a connection with me before we got down to the task at hand. That bond to her audience and her characters is what makes her great, not just as an actress or speechmaker but also as a person.
Overrated? I think not.
