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Toronto International Film Festival report: Fewer movies but still front-loaded with Oscar bait

'The Florida Project' and 'Ex Libris: The New York Public Library' were highlights at the 42nd edition of the festival in Toronto.

The black limo pulled up in front of the Princess of Wales Theatre as throngs of screaming fans positioned themselves for the big moment. The passenger door opened and out stepped 鈥� Judi Dench. The 42nd annual Toronto International Film Festival, which screened 255 feature-length movies in 11 days, hosted many celebrities 鈥� George Clooney! Angelina Jolie! 鈥� but I found it oddly comforting that Dench, indomitable in her 80s and appearing here as Queen Victoria in 鈥淰ictoria and Abdul,鈥� should also rate the selfie treatment.

This year鈥檚 festival, it was announced beforehand, had 20 percent fewer films than last year. Apparently distributors and the press had been complaining that too many movies were getting lost in the shuffle. Not that I noticed much difference. The glut is, as usual, exhilaratingly overwhelming, the lines just as long. I saw close to 20 films, often three a day. More so than in previous years, it seems, the festival is front-loaded with Oscar bait. Increasingly Toronto has become the equivalent of the fall fashion line for Academy Award contenders, some of which already have distributors and release dates.

At least three such films 鈥� Darren Aronofsky鈥檚 鈥渕other!,鈥� a gruesomely effective horror thriller starring Jennifer Lawrence; Stephen Frears鈥檚 charmingly pokey 鈥淰ictoria and Abdul鈥�; and Jolie鈥檚 powerful 鈥淔irst They Killed My Father鈥濃�� 聽actually opened in theaters while the festival was still running. Their appearance here served little other purpose than to provide Oscar cred.

The opening night movie was 鈥淏org McEnroe,鈥� or, as many festivalgoers dubbed it, 鈥渢he other tennis movie鈥� 鈥� the other one being 鈥淏attle of the Sexes,鈥� starring Emma Stone as Billie Jean King and Steve Carell as Bobby Riggs. (To add to the pileup, the US Open was being televised during the festival.) The Bj枚rn Borg in 鈥淏org McEnroe鈥� is played by a Swedish actor, Sverrir Gudnason, whose long locks are on full display. Shia LaBeouf, who was on his best behavior in Toronto, with no public tantrums, is bad boy upstart John McEnroe. It鈥檚 a serioso sports movie. Watching it, you鈥檇 think winning Wimbledon was tantamount to suiting up for D-Day. 鈥淏attle of the Sexes鈥� is peachier but also preachier.

The big-ticket movies 鈥� the international film festival prizewinners, or those aiming for the Oscars 鈥� crowded the lineup early on. A few 聽of these films had already been unleashed and reviewed at the recently concluded Telluride Film Festival, or in Venice, the end of which overlaps the beginning of Toronto. As I ticked off one highly-touted movie after another, I felt flummoxed in more than a few instances. The 鈥渂uzz鈥� at Toronto is a mixture of hype and holler and often bears little relation to the actual quality of the films. Guillermo del Toro鈥檚 鈥淭he Shape of Water,鈥� which won the top prize in Venice, is a cold-war fantasia about a mousy mute, played charmingly by Sally Hawkins, who romances a water creature (think the Creature from the Black Lagoon, but artier) being held captive in a military facility. As more than a few of my colleagues kidded, 鈥淚t鈥檚 鈥楨.T.鈥� with sex.鈥�

Ruben 脰stlund鈥檚 鈥淭he Square,鈥� which won the Palme d鈥橭r at Cannes in May, was another head-scratcher. 脰stlund previously made the terrific 鈥淔orce Majeure,鈥� and sections of his new film, which is about the bizarre travails of the director of a tony Swedish art museum, are first-rate. But this is also an otherwise realistic movie in which a character, with no explanation given, is seen co-habiting with a gorilla. Call me literal-minded, but might we know the reason why?

Alexander Payne鈥檚 鈥淒ownsizing鈥� has a great premise and begins promisingly. In order to rescue the environment, Norwegian scientists have devised a way to shrink humans to about five inches in height. A suburban couple from Omaha, played by Matt Damon and Kristen Wiig, decide to take the plunge and join the expanding corps of the miniaturized living out their dreams in the comforts of a little-people community called Leisureland. But about halfway through, Payne shifts gears and the film turns into an eco-apocalyptic tract. He downsizes the film鈥檚 best possibilities.

Two filmmakers made their solo directorial debuts: Greta Gerwig鈥檚 鈥淟ady Bird,鈥� in which she does not appear, is about a high school upstart, self-nicknamed Lady Bird and played with antic energy by Saoirse Ronan, who aches to flee her stultifying life in 鈥� horrors 鈥� suburban Sacramento, Calif. It鈥檚 an audience favorite that is rather too adept at punching all the right buttons. George Clooney鈥檚 鈥淪uburbicon,鈥� about a black family that moves into an all-white suburban neigborhood, has a script co-written by Joel and Ethan Coen and stars the everpresent Matt Damon. It鈥檚 a bewildering mash-up of Coens-style film noir nastiness and a tract on racism in 1950s America. Aaron Sorkin鈥檚 鈥淢olly鈥檚 Game鈥� is about the real-life Molly Bloom, a Colorado cocktail waitress and former skier played by Jessica Chastain in her best ice queen mode, who becomes the empress of illegal high-stakes poker games in New York and Los Angeles. Few screenwriters are as adept at scenes in which characters vehemently tell each other off, but the wall-to-wall gabble proves exhausting after a while.

So what did I love at Toronto? Frederick Wiseman鈥檚 almost-3-1/2-hour documentary 鈥淓x Libris: New York Public Library,鈥� is yet another in this astonishing director鈥檚 roster of great movies about social institutions. But to characterize his film in that way is like saying 鈥淐itizen Kane鈥� is a movie about politics. 鈥淓x Libris鈥� gets inside the workings of a great American resource and the many people whose lives are touched by it. It鈥檚 not only an ode to the New York Public Library and its many branches. It鈥檚 an ode to New York itself. It even comes with a message of sorts, never more timely, when a library director declares that 鈥渁ccess to information is the fundamental solution to inequality in our times.鈥�

Best by far of the narrative films I saw was Sean Baker鈥檚 鈥淭he Florida Project,鈥� a lyrically discursive movie about a run-down motel and its run-down inhabitants near Disney World. Willem Dafoe plays, with great grace, the motel manager, but the remainder of the cast members are almost all nonactors. Baker, you may recall, once shot an entire feature, 鈥淭angerine,鈥� on iPhones. (Even more remarkably, it was terrific.) The movie features a remarkable roster of child actors, headed by the 7-year-old Brooklynn Prince, who gives one of the best performances I鈥檝e ever seen from one so young. At his best, Baker rivals Fran莽ois Truffaut in his ability to get inside a child鈥檚 perceptions.

Florida, of course, was on many people鈥檚 minds in Toronto, even more so because the festival is a crucial gathering place for Miami鈥檚 film industry. The real world has a sneaky way of intruding on the hoopla. Real-world horrors are the basis for Angelina Jolie鈥檚 鈥淔irst They Killed My Father,鈥� based on the bestselling memoir by Cambodian refugee Loung Ung, who was 5 when, in 1975, the Khmer Rouge overthrew Lon Nol鈥檚 military rule and turned Cambodia into a killing field. She lost both her parents and two of her seven siblings. Jolie read the book and befriended Ung, who served as a co-producer on the film and who appeared onstage after the gala screening, seeming impossibly, inspiringly happy. I spoke afterward with Jolie, who told me that 鈥渙ne of the first things the Khmer Rouge did was kill the artists, and this is a testament to the power of artists.鈥� She went on, 鈥淲e had to show the horrors, but the film is not about horror. I made it for Cambodia, as a kind of thank you, a love letter.鈥�

Oh, and what of Judi Dench? I met her, too. Sorry I didn鈥檛 get her to pose for a selfie with me, but, you know, she鈥檚 Judi Dench. Plus she鈥檚 playing Queen Victoria. I asked her what that was like, to play the queen for a second time. (The first was in 鈥淢rs Brown.鈥�) 鈥淲ell,鈥� she said, with her usual directness, 鈥渟he鈥檚 just a human being, isn鈥檛 she?鈥�