Halifax is oddly sweltering at 9am. I run into a friend descending the Citadel steps while dragging my suitcase to the airport bus stop. “"Walking across the Commons was like crossing the Rubicon,” he said. In Toronto the weather is totally fine. Every year is a crapshoot—sometimes it’s 38, one year I had to buy a coat, another I got a cold—and this wouldn’t matter except weather completely dictates my mood and energy levels.
My first movie of the festival is Clouds of Sils Maria
, a very beautiful-looking, odd drama from Olivier Assayas
starring Juliette Fucking Binoche
as an actor struggling with her decision to star in the remake of the movie that made her a star, this time in the older role. Her assistant is played by Kristen Stewart
and they’re staying in the home of the late director of the movie, alone together in the Alps. It’s not exactly a psychosexual thriller, but there are a lot of portentous crying scenes, fadeouts, yelling and a confusing ending. My watching friend, in her early 40s, has lots of angry things to say about the aging aspects of the film. I’m not sure how to feel. "What if Kristen Stewart was never there all along?" I muse online, instantly getting 23 retweets from Stewart fanbots.