I join “CTV News Toronto at Five” with anchor Zuraidah Alman to talk about new movies in theatres including the music doc “Nash the Slash Rises Again!,” the audio horror of “undertone” and the romantic melodrama of “Reminders of Him.”
Fast reviews for busy people! Watch as I review three movies in less time than it takes to tune a violin. Have a look as I race against the clock to tell you about the music doc “Nash the Slash Rises Again!,” the audio horror of “undertone” and the romantic melodrama of “Reminders of Him.”
SYNOPSIS: “Nash the Slash Rises Again!,” a new documentary now playing at Hot Docs, unwraps the story of an enigmatic musical pioneer who borrowed his name from a Laurel and Hardy silent film and hid his face but not his talent behind surgical bandages.
CAST: Jeff Plewman, Iggy Pop, Gary Numan, Youth, Gary Topp, Owen Pallett, Paul Myers, Valerie Buhagiar, Don McKellar, Danielle Dax, Steve Hillage, Nathanael Chadwick, Jaymz Bee, Jeanne Beker, Marilyn Burns, Corpusse, Michael Dent, Rodrigo Gudiño, Gunnar Hansen, Oliver Hardy, Cameron Hawkins, Randy Johnston, Stan Laurel, Tony Malone, Ron Mann, David Marsden, Paul A. Partain, Tom Plewman, Stephen Pollard. Directed by Tim Kowalski.
REVIEW: Nash the Slash, a.k.a. Jeff Plewman, is one of the most singular musical acts to ever emerge from Toronto, or anywhere. A multi-instrumentalist with a focus on electric violin and electric mandolin, he wrapped his face in surgical bandages, à la The Invisible Man, wore dark glasses, and a tuxedo finished off by a top hat.
His theatrical music, usually performed solo when he wasn’t touring with the band FM, was an unholy blend of prog rock, new wave, experimental electronic influenced by everything from Beethoven and Krautrock to Hawkwind and old horror movies. His music, often augmented by synths, drum machines, harmonica, glockenspiel and other sounds, was unclassifiable, groundbreaking and destined for cult status.
A new documentary, “Nash the Slash Rises Again!,” fondly remembers the man behind the mystery, the musician Iggy Pop called “unusual and brilliant.”
Director Tim Kowalski understands that to get to know Nash, you first must understand where he came from. He paints a picture of Toronto, circa 1970s and 80s, as an outwardly staid city, unfriendly to outsiders, particularly the LGBTQ+ community, but with a vibrant underground art scene.
It was from this incubator of rebellion that Nash emerged, a product of classical training, rock ‘n roll and an artistic temperament. Through archival footage, interviews with the man himself and exciting performance footage, Kowalski places Nash in context as a musician who walked his own path, strove for fame but never at the cost of his artistic integrity.
It’s a loving portrait that doesn’t shy away from the darker details, like Nash’s bad temper and an arrest for domestic incident, but it succeeds best as a nostalgic celebration of a trailblazer who didn’t get his due during his lifetime.
For twenty-three years, between 1927 and 1950, Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy worked non-stop. According to The Sons of the Desert, their official international fraternal organization, they appeared in 106 films together, including feature films, featurettes, short subjects and cameo appearances. This year we can add one more to the list, sort of. It’s not a recently uncovered long lost reel of film or a documentary. This time around the comedic duo get into “another nice mess” in “Stan & Ollie,” a new biopic starring Steve Coogan and John C. Reilly that lovingly looks back on the double act’s 1953 farewell tour.
The action begins with the pair’s best days behind them. Their heyday a memory, the ageing duo reteam after a betrayal that blew apart their friendship. “We’re getting to know one another again,” says Stan. “It’s complicated.” Booked on a variety hall tour of post-war Britain the pair trot out some of their best known routines to small audiences. “We’re getting older,” says Ollie, “but we’re not dead yet.”
A slow start gives way to bigger and bigger crowds as audiences rediscover the pair’s wit and charm. Behind the scenes, however, tensions arise. Stan felt betrayed when Ollie didn’t back him up in a power play with producer Hal Roach years before, effectively ending their professional relationship. “The only reason we were in this situation,” scolds Stan, “is because you didn’t have the guts to ask Hal Roach for the money we deserved.” In a stinging rebuke Ollie says, “You love Laurel and Hardy but you didn’t love me.”
Those frictions, a hectic schedule and Hardy’s failing health complicate things but with the help of their strong-willed wives, Lucille (Shirley Henderson) and Ida (Nina Arianda), the comedy legends rekindle their love of performing and one another.
Never before has Laurel and Hardy’s signature “Dance of the Cuckoos” been more poignant. The story is a show biz tale but at its heart it’s the story of two very different men, thrown together on a film set, who formed an unbreakable bond.
The film begins with a long tracking shot as the men walk from their dressing room to the set. It tells us everything we need to know about Stan and Ollie in one five-minute tour de force shot. Stan is the funny one, considered in his approach with a head for business. Ollie is impulsive, going broke and many times married. They are an odd couple with unmistakable chemistry. It’s a lovely way to familiarize the audience with these almost-forgotten characters and showcase the easy chemistry between the leads, Coogan and Reilly.
By the time the end credits roll it’s that chemistry and the just-as-entertaining double act of Henderson and Arianda that elevates this story of friendship and loyalty.