Solo Speaks: A One-On-One with Annie Clark

By: Addison Wylie

After being featured at Toronto After Dark, the indie Canadian thriller named Solo is making a more public appearance with a theatrical run at Toronto’s Carlton Cinema.

Carlton Cinema is a very appropriate venue seeing as the theatre and the film both share a level of independence.  Carlton Cinema is a quaint theatre that feels as if you step into another world of movie watching, and Solo’s lead is left in her own world to try surviving camp initiation.

Solo serves as a debut for writer/director Isaac Cravit, marking the flick as his first feature length film.  The spooky movie is also actress Annie Clark’s first foray into theatrical films.  It’s a big move for Clark who is often on screen by herself and having to support the eeriness Cravit has materialized.

I wasn’t too hot on Solo as a whole.  It started off strong, and progressively meandered its way into a final product that lacks punch or chills.  However, Clark does a commendable job at holding her own.  She turns in a promising performance that makes the audience eager to see what else she’ll do with her budding career.

Wylie Writes correspondant Sky Wylie sat down one-on-one with Clark to talk shop about Solo.  The two also discuss Clark’s departure from Degrassi: The Next Generation, how a real life camp experience inspired her hopes of becoming an actress, and whether she sees a future for Isaac Cravit directing tense fare.

Listen to the free-form interview here:

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Solo is now playing at Toronto’s Carlton Cinema. Click here for showtimes!

Read my review here!

Do You Tweet? Follow These Tweeple:

Solo: @SoloTheMovie
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Solo

By: Addison Wylie

Solo starts out on an “A” game, but ends up finishing with a generous “C” grade.

Isaac Cravit’s independent thriller is a straight-up campfire story – and, the filmmaker knows it.  Gillian (played by former Degrassi: The Next Generation co-star Annie Clark) needs to prove herself to be a capable camp counsellor in order to obtain a summer job.  The newbie needs to pull a “solo”, a two-night experience on a secluded island that will test her survival skills.

Cravit, directing and writing his first feature film, is having a lot of fun playing with the conventions of a campfire horror.  The filmmaker even has fellow councillors telling Gillian rumours of haunted activity that took place on the island before she embarks on her trip.

These moments don’t feel like Cravit is pushing too hard for the audience to recognize what the film is trying to be and he sticks his landing well with these scenes of eerie dialogue.

When Gillian arrives at the island and is forced to investigate mysteries in the woods at night, Cravit nails the creepiness.  As the camera slowly moves around a freaked out Clark, we can’t help but get sweaty palms as we feel ourselves growing more anxious.  What’s better is that there aren’t too many of these moments, making these quiet pressure cookers enunciate strongly when they happen.

Cravit is also having a ball throwing red herrings at his audience, including possible antagonists that may have more to do with the island’s history than we realize.

Solo reveals more, including what’s overlooking Gillian.  The routes the film travels on is all a matter of subjectivity.  I watched Solo with my wife, who enjoyed where Cravit took his scary movie.  I, on the other hand, thought these decisions made the film less effectively stimulating and increasingly mundane.

Without spoiling the main course, Cravit’s screenplay makes the right choice to make delirium the main evil in Solo.  The problem is – for me, at least – he chooses the wrong type of crazy.  Solo would’ve been better off as something more psychological than being so literal.

Solo is typical enough to get by.  Some gory effects towards the end are appreciated and certainly help matters tonal wise.  But, part of the joy of watching these smaller scale horrors/thrillers is finding steady specialties that make movie goers gush to others about the film – resulting in consecutive views.  I just didn’t get that with Solo.

An Apocalypse at Toronto Youth Shorts’ T24

By: Addison Wylie

The T24 project – a challenge in association with the Toronto Youth Shorts Film Festival – asks filmmakers to create, produce, edit, and hand in a short film within 24 hours.  Teams are given a lengthy essay question about the chosen theme, and are then sent off into the city.

I remember the days of attending T24 screenings and feeling excited to tell others about the great shorts that screened.  With prior screenings, teams have shown supreme amounts of creativity while impressing movie goers with their filmmaking techniques.

This time, I sat in the University of Toronto’s Innis Town Hall watching the disappointing collection of shorts and I felt disheartened.  There’s something that’s been lost in translation between past teams and this new class of corner cutters.

The filmmaking wasn’t lazy.  The audience could see these teams went the distance to find excellent locations and stay consistent to their atmospheres.  Also, the shorts that really focused on the more technical side of their production impressed with special effects and funky lighting.  This was evident with Adrienne Knott’s Hinterland and Maikol Pinto’s Futurity Lost.  There were some really gorgeous shots in these two.

When it came to the overall finished product though, each short reeked of easy filmmaking – too easy.

The theme this year was “the end”, which meant lots of teams took advantage of shooting at night on the desolate streets of Toronto.  This choice did make for a fairly effective post-apocalyptic mood and it also helped that on this particular day, there was a drizzle of ominous snow.

However, the shorts didn’t go any deeper than that regarding the doomed, end-of-the-world essence.  For the most part, it felt as if I was watching lots of people shuffle around emptiness with “poetic” narration accompanying them.

The aforementioned Hinterland and Futurity Lost may have looked good, but the shorts were the equivalent of that hippity-dippity guy who brings his acoustic guitar to house parties.  There was a level of self-proclaimed significance.

The filmmaker who executed the “walking around a silent purgatory” approach correctly was Greg Fox with his short Peaches.  Fox was the only one who was able to bring development to his characters and to his narrative.  It’s a bit too anti-climactic when everything quickly wraps up, but Hannah Gordon’s performance anchors each scene well.

Two other filmmakers that tried to bring emotion to their work but ended up slipping up were Anne Phitsanoukanh and Jacky Vuong.

Phitsanoukanh’s Stiffilis took on a fictitious pandemic causing people to freeze on all fours.  It brought insight as to how social media would look at a situation like this, which was an interesting idea.  However, these instances didn’t necessarily go anywhere other than being brief references to pop culture.  And, was it Phitsanoukanh’s intention to make the overall message about this post-apocalyptic society sarcastic and cynical?

I like Vuong’s The Drought, but I wanted to love it.  I think the mumblecore approach served the short and its actors well, but this film severely needed an editor or a multi-camera setup.  As characters try and figure out a widespread libido disappearance, the scenes roll on with no end in sight; which triggers the scrambling performers to start talking like no person would.  Hourmazd Farhadi made me giggle sporadically, but there’s no way anyone would talk to bedroom partners like he does.

Jamie McMillan, a T24 regular, returned with yet another strange short that’s a bit hard to fathom or embrace.  With Gag, McMillan showed he still has skills regarding his shooting style and he certainly isn’t afraid to make the audience deliberately uncomfortable.  I just wasn’t too hot on the script that was lacking a purpose, and the leading scientist character was too awkward to muster.  It was also another short that left the audience with a cynical, off-putting aftertaste.

An example of a short film that suffered from way too much melodrama was Ryan Liu’s All We’ve Got.  I thought some of the camera angles were well composed – including everyone in the lens without making the shot look crammed.  However, Liu has his actors overacting and beating every hint of fear into the ground.  I would like to see how leading man Paul Dods performs with different material and sensible direction.  He’s got the goods!

I’ve left my least favourite short – Chelsea Chen’s Apocalypse Now? – for last because I don’t want to spend too much time on it.  I’m pretty sure after juror Bern Euler’s public dismemberment of the film’s questionable title, Chen knows her short wasn’t exactly a winner.

To give the filmmaker the broad strokes of my criticisms: Apocalypse Now? was a silent film with title cards that needed more screen time, and the audience could never jive with the humour since the film never opened itself up to the notion of others finding it funny, other than to those involved with the project.  As a filmmaker, Chen needs to apply more thought towards her audience.  Maybe then she’ll find a way for her work to, well, work.

I’m being rough with the latest T24 challenge because I know what this project is capable of.  It bothers me to see others pitch away an opportunity loaded with possible career growth and produce something that hardly qualifies.

Another thing that bugs me is when people use the 24 hour deadline as a crutch.  I can understand if some of the continuity is choppy because of rushed scheduling, but it doesn’t take long for a filmmaker to add variety to their shot list or give an actor a bit more motivation.  If these filmmakers realize how to think on their feet and nimbly expand their creative horizons, they’ll eventually see progress.

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Visit the official Toronto Youth Shorts Film Festival website here!

Check out the Toronto Youth Shorts Film Festival blog here!

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Toronto Youth Shorts Film Festival: @TorYouthShorts
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The Selfish Giant

By: Addison Wylie

The Selfish Giant gives off an aroma of a film that will be remembered for a very long time.  The staying power of its troubled characters as well as the painfully realistic portrayal of a down-and-out community in Northern England are quite remarkable.

This directorial feature debut from British director Clio Barnard trails the life of two young troublemakers trying to make sense of their early teens.  Both boys always yearn to help either their struggling family or friends.  The loudest of the duo Arbor (played by Conner Chapman) hates to see his pal Swifty picked on.  In fact, it’s Arbor’s adamant roughness that gets himself and Swifty (played by Shaun Thomas) suspended from school.

Swifty, who is only asked to leave for 10 days, is Arbor’s rock.  Rather than enabling Arbor’s rowdiness, he’s usually helping the foul-mouthed rebel soothe down after adults treat the twosome with brash language and constant discipline.

It’s stupefying how natural Chapman and Thomas are in front of the camera.  Each line and pause all feel habitually motivated.  A large portion of the film feels as if we’re infringing on their hang outs.

The youngsters also decline any chance to beg movie goers for sentimentality or easy reactions.  These are two actors who understand that the story and reacting to those subtle beats are essential parts to making this viscerally moving film succeed.  These are old souls who are showing rather quickly that they have the hang of acting.

Some – if not all – of The Selfish Giant is tough going to watch.  Whenever families are the prime focus, there’s always chaos.  There’s always a collection of disarray happening in small spaces with blue language being whipped around.  It all looks and feels just as invasive as watching the leading boys by themselves.

Barnard hasn’t overdone the purity within these moments, which is a great sign of what’s to come with her filmmaking career.  We don’t find too many details about the different adults other than hearing local gabbing on the school yard and seeing visual cues that give us just enough to draw conclusions.  These scenes come at full force one after another during the first act – undoubtably disarming.  But, once we are sucked into these stressful environments, it’s hard to veer our interests away from the candid calamities.

As we watch Arbor and Swifty slowly enter a working man’s world as they earn money for collecting scrap metal, the lack of a concrete narrative never feels like a problem.  Arbor and Swifty dig through heaps and keep their eyes open for available wires to steal and sell.  Those illegal activities are what drive the film forward, adding extra nervousness while elaborating onto and reinforcing Chapman and Thomas’ characters.  Observing how Swifty becomes more outgoing and how Arbor develops jealousy towards him is a forceful dynamic.

For Arbor, the scrapyard is just the life for him that fits his hyperactive interests.  Swifty, on the other hand, finds his calling when he’s allowed to tame and tend to the horses around the scrapyard.  In a lot of ways, this free pace around unique symbols resembles Cilo Barnard’s film to Harmony Korine’s audacious directorial debut, Gummo.  What separates the two films, however, is that The Selfish Giant has more of a filmmaker’s professionalism to it.  It also has more of a direct focus on portraying youthfulness and less inclinations to shock the audience.

When an earth-shattering climactic event drops, the audience feels the impact from every possible direction in a matter of seconds.  It’s hard to take in.  Mostly because we don’t want to accept that it’s real.  Barnard handles the consequences that carry out in all the correct ways.  Her direction, along with her screenplay, is instinctive with the audience’s perceptions.  Just as the actors have shown, this filmmaker has shown – yet again – how strong she is at her craft.

As the end of the first month of 2014 grows near, I feel happy to know the bar is being set high for phenomenal indies.  The Selfish Giant has me excited to tell people about this accomplished work, and has me eager to see what Clio Barnard, Conner Chapman, and Shaun Thomas will do next.

Does It Float?: Don Jon

Upon the invention of this series, I was hoping Does It Float? would successfully show how a movie can be conceived in different ways.  It doesn’t always have to be a positive experience turning into a negative one or vice versa, however.  Maybe a movie could still be a solid watch on separate occasions for different reasons.  Who would’ve guessed Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s feature length directorial debut Don Jon would be that film to prove this?

Don Jon was the first TIFF film I saw in a theatre when my festival coverage was kicking off; and, what a great movie to start the moviegoing.  I thought Don Jon was a sharp take on old fashioned Hollywood romance being set in a modern day social scene inspired by pop culture hits like MTV’s Jersey Shore.

Gordon-Levitt makes these lively environments into a watering hole for pining young men in search of an alluring one-night-stand.  The ambitious director/writer/actor doesn’t paint males or females in a way that’s discriminating, but rather gives the typical stereotype a persistent voice and mind.

My cringing reaction to Don Jon’s crassness is still in tact even moreso now.  I remember reading other reviews once mine went live, and the number of people who warned their readers about the vague clips from actual pornography was very high.  These cutaways didn’t bother me so much the first time around because I was too busy reacting to how blunt and graphic Jon describes sex.  But, on a second viewing, I had more of a realization as to how often these snippets would roll out at full force.

This leads me into my re-watch of Don Jon.  A lot of my original admirations and criticisms are still relevant, but because I was more aware of the film’s unique characteristics, I couldn’t help but feel the film taking on a more abrasive role with a more intimate home viewing experience.  However, Gordon-Levitt’s flick may have served me a new hand of cards, but I came up with results that surprised me.

Go on and watch the sixth webisode of Does It Float?.

Read my original capsule review here!

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@AddisonWylie

André Gregory: Before and After Dinner

By: Addison Wylie

Regrettably, I haven’t seen 1981’s My Dinner with André.  I believe there’s an unwritten law that states that this is a cinematic crime being in the film critic position that I’m in.

This also meant that I wasn’t in tune with the work of the classic’s star and co-writer André Gregory.  Gregory is his own renaissance man having taken on duties as a theatre director, an artist, and an actor.  You may have caught a more mainstream André Gregory in 1993’s Demolition Man, where he squared off with a hammy Wesley Snipes.  Cindy Kleine’s doc makes great use of one of his more campier Demolition Man scenes, as well as a funny behind-the-scenes story told by Gregory himself.

I was quite smitten with Kleine’s passion project André Gregory: Before and After Dinner.  If there’s one more movie that’s been released this year that’s been made with true love besides Before Midnight, it’s this heartfelt film.

Kleine, who is also André’s wife, documents the artist’s life through interviews and personal one-on-one’s with Gregory.  The documentarian has also gotten honest sit downs from friends, family, and cast members André once directed.

In no way does Before and After Dinner feel biased or bogus.  Kleine doesn’t have to cook up anything to make her husband look like a good man because his kind actions and his humble personality are always front and centre.

The benefit of having Gregory’s wife interview him is that there isn’t any falseness to any of his explanations.  André opens himself up like a book in the first place, but if Kleine triggers a memory or an inkling, Gregory doesn’t feel the need to hold back anything.  A tearing scene featuring André showing how upset he is upon hearing of his Father’s possible past assisting one of history’s nefarious leaders is the proof in the pudding.

Kleine, of course, respects her subject and never overexposes any spontaneous emotions.  She recognizes the little things that quietly express her focused husband.  When observing scenes in a play he’s directing, the camera takes note of André’s excited mannerisms and the orchestration he’s silently carrying out with his fingers.

The doc also does a splendid job at portraying Gregory’s friendship with long-time collaborator Wallace Shawn.  We’ve all seen Shawn lend his amiable likeliness to live action and animated roles.  However, not only does Before and After Dinner show just how important an aged friendship is and how Gregory’s creativity is inspired when he’s corresponding with Shawn, but Kleine’s doc shows Shawn’s acting range in an advanced light that many of us haven’t seen before.

The documentary has infectious affection.  It often fills us up with that feeling of hearing someone laugh only to be triggered by the happiness ourselves.  André Gregory: Before and After Dinner is a bit rough around the edges on a technical level as it uses lower end graphics and shooting techniques, but this doc is chock full of warmth and is waiting for audiences to embrace it.

The Pervert’s Guide to Ideology

By: Addison Wylie

The conceptual idea of a philosopher (in this case, Slavoj Žižek) walking audiences through beloved and forgotten films and giving their outlook on the film’s ideological take has potential.  The documentary, however, has to have competent direction and a confident mind at the forefront in order for the project to work.  The Pervert’s Guide to Ideology has neither.

Sophie Fiennes’ doc is hitting home runs with most movie goers (it currently holds an impressive 90% on Rotten Tomatoe’s Tomatometer) and it’ll more than likely wet the whistle for those who caught Žižek and Fiennes prior collaboration The Pervert’s Guide to Cinema.

If you haven’t caught their predecessor, you can still take in The Pervert’s Guide to Ideology as a stand alone film.  To my understanding, the films only share Žižek’s appearance and Fiennes’ jumpy narrative.  That said, you may also finding yourself – as I was – using all your will to stay tuned in to this hyperactive headache-inducing collaboration of humdrum proportions.

Slavoj Žižek bumbles his way through theory after theory while Fiennes tries to keep up with all the transporting into different movies.  Žižek has been integrated nicely into movies like They Live, Taxi Driver, and A Clockwork Orange, but he speeds through explanations with slight confidence in his rambling.

It’s easy to see that this eccentric personality cares for what he’s talking about, but he always appears to look disheveled and anxious.  If he had papers in his hand, you bet he’d be shuffling through them constantly.  As a viewer, I need to know that the main speaker I should be believing in can have the ability to educate me.  I couldn’t take Slavoj Žižek seriously at all.  If that’s part of the joke, Fiennes hasn’t done a good enough of a job to emphasize that.

Watching The Pervert’s Guide to Ideology was really trying.  It was kind of like being trapped in an elevator with a distant, slightly inebriated uncle who has found out cinema is a fascination of mine.  In order for him to vent but also make a connection with me, he uses this newfound information to a supposed advantage.  Instead, the reactions I have are exhaustion and irritation and they get only worse over the two-hour runtime.

The Pervert’s Guide to Ideology is for a specific crowd.  Mainly those who are devoted followers of Žižek’s.  I’ll take this unpleasant experience as a sign that I’m not part of this audience.

Bridegroom

By: Addison Wylie

Bridegroom is an expansion of a YouTube video titled It Could Happen To You.  The story documented in It Could Happen To You is powerful with how uplifting it is as well as to how unfair it all becomes.

Anyone who saw Shane Bitney Crone and Thomas Lee Bridegroom laughing together, holding hands, or embracing each other had proof that true love existed.  It gave people confidence that two levelheaded people could meet at random and hit things off phenomenally.  With pieces falling into place, Crone and Bridegroom soon became very serious during their six-year relationship.  They were absolutely perfect for each other.

Suddenly and shockingly, Bridegroom unintentionally had a fatal accident that sent Shane into shambles.  Tom’s family – who were never true supporters of their same sex partnership – reacted in a way emotionless androids would.  While abiding to their personal beliefs, the family’s actions against Shane were unspeakably disappointing and preposterous.

Just as Shane does in his highly popular YouTube video, his remarks and opinions towards Tom’s family and their decisions are never portrayed in a mean-spirited way.  Bridegroom isn’t a vehicle to unleash a ball of hate onto this unyielding family.  Shane instead takes the high road and uses both the video and this tender documentary to show how homophobia still lingers.  He has nothing else to do but displeasingly shake his head in shame and wish for a hopeful future.

Bridegroom offers a bit more information about Shane and Tom’s backstory that didn’t make it in It Could Happen To You.  A particular upsetting detail about Shane’s youthhood is his self-realization after watching scenes from Philadelphia.  Because he was different, he was convinced he was dying of AIDS.

Once It Could Happen To You found its stride through social networking and was gathering attention amongst media outlets, television writer Linda Bloodworth-Thomason took to Kickstarter to raise money in order to develop this real life story of romance and heartbreak into a feature length doc.  By July 19, 2012, the production had reached its goal plus an additional $84, 000.

While watching this worthwhile documentary, I often found myself wondering where the Kickstarter money had been put towards to.  They may have had to rent equipment and cover the costs to clear some of the song selections.  Otherwise, it’s a fairly straightforward documentary with a bland presentation.  It doesn’t break outside the mould of an average slideshow presentation and the interviews – moderately lit and shot against a draping black sheet – look like a film student’s project who hasn’t yet perfected backlighting.  The YouTube video packs more of a visual punch than Bridegroom does.

What matters most, however, is how the story and the emotion translate to a longer duration.  Filmmaker Linda Bloodworth-Thomason has done a good job keeping the resonation in this retelling.  The new interviews from friends and family give movie goers a concise viewpoint from everyone who ever knew these two lovebirds.  And, Crone’s recounting still feels fresh and vulnerable.

If you haven’t seen It Could Happen To You, I highly suggest you do so.  It does everything this documentary does in an eighth of its time in more of an engaging way.

But, if you wish to hear Crone and Bridegroom’s history in one clean go with every detail provided, watching Bloodworth-Thomason’s Bridegroom would still be a wise move.  It’s commendably controlled in new hands and the filmmaker is courteous towards its subjects as well as its emotional story.

With this chronicling being available through VOD outlets and an upcoming DVD release, it’ll be sure to open eyes even wider.  Especially to those who were previously unaware of Crone and Bridegroom’s wonders and woes.

On The Film Army Front: June ’13 Edition

For those who may be unaware, I also write on a more Canadian-savvy site called Film Army. At Film Army, contributors wish to bring filmmakers – ranging from students to up-and-comers to tenured artists – together and provide resources, news, and other relevant information in order to keep these dedicated readers in the loop regarding the film and television industry.

Contributors have some sort of tv/film experience under our belts. Some have been working behind-the-scenes on a number of sets while others are currently in school for their specified craft or choosing if film school would be the best bet for their budding careers.

As for myself, I have an education in television and video production, but found I had a lot more fun and more of a fuelled passion to write about what I love about movies and what I think other movie goers would appreciate about modern movies. Which is why I’m Film Army’s resident film critic.

I’ve been writing for Film Army for three years. I’ve reviewed feature-length movies and short films, interviewed filmmakers, provided event coverage, been a guest on Base Camp (Film Army’s exclusive podcast), and have had a ball gaining experience and watching a collection of different works.

At the beginning of every month (excluding this late entry), I’m going to provide Film Army links to my Wylie Writes readers. Just like Film Army keeps industry folk involved with television and film, I want to keep you guys in the loop with my other work.

FILM ARMY GOES CUCKOO FOR 360 SCREENINGS’ FIFTH EVENT

JOHNNY LAROCQUE’S FILM FESTIVAL HAS LEFT A MOVIEGOING IMPRINT

PLACEBO WEAVES THROUGH MOVIEGOERS

SCI-FI SIMU: ONE-ON-ONE WITH OMEGA’S SIMU LIU

MOVIEGOING HALFTIME: THE BEST AND WORST OF 2013… SO FAR

SHIPSHAPE SHORTS AT TORONTO YOUTH SHORTS FILM FESTIVAL

PELLETIER’S PRESENT FUTURE: ONE-ON-ONE WITH OMEGA’S JARED PELLETIER

CANADIAN COHEN: ONE-ON-ONE WITH BEING CANADIAN’S ROBERT COHEN

Let’s close out this first ‘On The Film Army Front’ with a pretty cool milestone. Earlier this year, I reviewed an inspiring documentary called Fame High, directed by Academy Award nominee Scott Hamilton Kennedy. It played at this year’s TIFF Kids as well as TIFF Next Wave Film Festival.

The film ended up using one of my quotes for their web poster. I’m the third quote – just above the title. Check it out! And, read my review here!

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Film Army: @FilmArmy
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Revolution

By: Addison Wylie

Revolution could very well be one of this year’s most important watches, but by the end of the documentary, you’ll be wondering what’s more of a threat: carbon dioxide poisoning in our atmosphere or filmmaker Rob Stewart’s constant need to be on camera.  I can’t ignore it.  No one can.  Stewart just loves to star in his own passion project.

I hesitate to continue with this criticism about the director/producer/writer/cinematographer for fear I get sidetracked, but it’s Stewart’s self-congratulations that almost clouds the facts in Revolution, an otherwise informative yet occasionally stuffy documentary.

Rob Stewart is very proud of himself.  He should be.  His documentary Sharkwater helped uncover truths about the critical danger sharks are in.  But, when a semi-cynical and skeptical question asked at a post-Sharkwater Q&A challenges Stewart to think about what the point of saving a species set to diminish in 2048 would be, Stewart was taken back and driven to make Revolution.

We see Stewart interacting with classes as he teaches young students more about relevant issues and how we can help change this grim outcome.  He’s even captured moving and devoted protests in his doc, showing how co-operation and team work can help make a change leading to results rather than pipe dreams.

But, as a documentary filmmaker, there’s a line that is drawn between teaching an audience how they can help and showing an audience how you helped leading to how awesome you are.  Stewart is a sharp guy and is dedicated to his topic, which is why it’s even more unfortunate when we see his doc slowly feature him prominently as he shows moviegoers just how much he’s involved with the change as he displays his best “blue steel”.

But while he loves screen time, I don’t believe he’s intentionally going out of his way to make this a glamour project.  Rob Stewart cares about fixing these environmental malfunctions.  When he’s talking to moviegoers about dangers such as how much carbon dioxide is being pumped into our atmosphere which then affects eco-life within the water, his facts are eye-opening.

Stewart walks us through just how everything is connected.  For instance, by unleashing this pollution, it takes its toll on coral, which then leads to shorter lifespans for critters who depend on it for basic necessities.

Stewart and his team of cinematographers have captured all their footage phenomenally.  As we see schools of plankton swirl around as they light up the depths of the sea like fireworks, it’s hard to consider and fathom that all of this hidden beauty may not exist towards the peak of our lifetime.

The facts are inspiring, but what’s even more uplifting is Revolution’s attitude towards skeptics.  If all nature documentaries have a message that says, “if we all stick together and fight, we can make a difference”, Revolution has a message that says, “No, really. You CAN make a difference”.

While graphic footage of bloodied bodies and de-finning may be a lot to handle near the beginning of Revolution (especially with its G-rating), the footage of protests and activists banding together isn’t overbearing, gimmicky, or ham-fisted.  It fills us with confidence that hard-driven teamwork is still used to make a statement.  Even though security may eventually escort non-violent spectacles off the property, these brave people have the determination to link arms and push in a non-aggressive manner hoping to enlighten even one person.

Towards the end of Revolution, we see past interviewees and a charismatic class of grade school students give inspiring words of wisdom.  The class is the icing on this cake because we see just how thoughtful and inspiring actions can trickle down to younger generations and help ignite ideas.

These final words from the interviewees, of course, is followed by Rob Stewart lying down on the shore in shorty-shorts looking seriously into the water right before Mr. July jumps into the water to swim with sharks.  Ladies?  Activists?  Anyone…?