Barfi!: Film Review

Chances are, someones already told you to run out and see Barfi!, Anurag Basus tender romantic comedy starring Ranbir Kapoor as a deaf man. The film has opened strong in India, and word of mouth among Indian and diaspora audiences is bound to elevate Barfi!s fortunes still more with repeat viewings. Auds new to Hindi films may find much to like here, as well.

The film -- told mostly without dialogue -- is a refreshingly non-commercial exercise, with Kapoor in a Chaplin-inspired performance; Telugu actress Ileana DCruz adding elegant solemnity as an upper-class woman who falls for the spontaneous Barfi against her parents wishes; and most spectacularly former Miss World Priyanka Chopra, sans makeup, as an autistic girl.

Actors playing differently-abled characters often walk a fine line (cue Robert Downey Jr. in Tropic Thunder), and Hindi films are not known for their subtlety as a rule, but here Basu has guided Kapoor and especially Chopra to turn in exceptionally restrained, organic performances.

Barfi was named Murphy by his parents, who spotted the name on an old British radio. Unable to pronounce his own name, he says barfi (ice cream), and the nickname sticks. Barfi and his parents are poor but happy, living in a ramshackle cottage on a hillside in remote Darjeeling, when he meets Shruti (DCruz), who is visiting family there. Immediately smitten by her beauty, Barfi attempts to woo Shruti, and although she is already engaged to a successful businessman, slowly her defenses come down.

At the same time, Barfi befriends Jhilmil (Chopra), the autistic daughter of a wealthy Darjeeling family.

When the helpless Jhilmil disappears, her family turns to the local police inspector (Saurabh Shukla, stellar as a hilariously put-upon small town cop), who pronounces her dead and is tempted to pin the crime on Barfi to placate the family and ensure his own job security. A caper ensues, finding Jhilmil and Barfi on the run to Kolkata, where their shared experiences draw them inexorably closer.

Basu handles the growing attraction between Jhilmil and Barfi with a deceptively light touch, letting it draw viewers in as their relationship gets more serious; and beautifully depicts Shrutis ambivalence about whether to fight for Barfi or watch as he and Jhilmil live out their own story -- as unusual as it may seem on the surface.

In a way, Basus approach to presenting Barfi is not unlike the way the character himself gets by in the world, with a mix of mischief, cleverness and sweetness (Basu even throws in a dash of the bittersweet whimsy of French filmmaker Jean-Pierre Jeunet).

The dreamy landscapes around Darjeeling, a city in eastern India, deserve a special mention. Production designer Rajat Poddar evokes the 1970s with myriad simple details, and the gorgeousness of Darjeelings tea plantations, quaint narrow-gauge trains and mist-shrouded hills is captured in some lavish visuals by cinematographer Ravi Varman (who no doubt has been inspired by Santosh Sivan). The films soundtrack (Pritam), enriched by accordion and strings, adds depth as well. Indian VFX house Pixion does seamless work, while costume designers Aki Narula and Shefalina capture the colors of Bengali tradition in Shrutis silk saris and Barfis homespun sweaters and suits.

Anurag Basu, in a welcome change from the typical Bollywood saga, has given us a singular love story and an unforgettable character in Barfi.

Opened: Sept. 14, 2012

Cast: Ranbir Kapoor, Ileana DCruz, Priyanka Chopra, Saurabh Shukla

Director: Anuraj Basu

Screenwriters: Anurag Basu, Sanjeev Datta

Producers: Ronnie Screwvala, Siddharth Roy Kapur

Director of photography: Ravi Varman

Costume designers: Aki Narula and Shefalina

VFX: Pixion

Sound designer: Shajith Koyeri

Editor: Akiv Ali

Music: Pritam Chakraborty

Not rated, 120 minutes

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The Manzanar Fishing Club: Film Review

The shameful internment of Japanese-Americans during World War II has received scant cinematic examination, which makes The Manzanar Fishing Club something of a puzzler. As it title would indicate, this documentary concentrates mainly on the fact that a large number of the internees at the Manzanar War Relocation Center in California were dedicated fishermen who through various means were able to temporarily escape their confines to enjoy trout fishing in the waters of the Eastern Sierra. Its a nice little human interest story, but hardly seems worthy of this full-length treatment.

Thats especially true since this film directed by Cory Shiozaki seems more wonkishly interested in the intricacies of angling than in the larger social and moral themes that might have been more richly explored in the extensive interviews with the now elderly survivors. As subject after subject describes in great detail the sorts of rods, reels and bait they used, its hard not to bemoan the lack of greater thematic depth.

The filmmaker also uses archival footage, occasional recreations and interviews with historians, children of survivors and a former guard to relate the tale. But he allows too many of his subjects to ramble on in digressive fashion, blunting the impact of what they have to say.

Some of the accounts of how the inmates managed to forge rudimentary fishing tools and escape the camps confines with the help of sympathetic guards are undeniably moving. But theres a much larger story that has yet to be fully told, and this minimalistic effort seems like a woeful missed opportunity.

Opened: Friday, Sept. 14 (Barbed Wire to Barbed Hooks LLC)
Director: Cory Shiozaki
Screenwriter: Richard Imamura
Producers: Cory Shiozaki, Richard Imamura, Lester Chung, John Gengi
Executive producer: Alan Sutton
Photography: Talk Story Media
Editor: Lester Chung
Music: Bill Ungerman, James Achor, George Abe, Harold Payne, Dave Iwataki
Not rated, 74 min.

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Resident Evil Retribution: Film Review

Its easy by now for film critics to identify with Alice (Milla Jovovich), the badass heroine of the extremely lucrative Resident Evil film franchise. Shes constantly being besieged by a seemingly never-ending series of monsters, and we -- at least every couple of years or so -- are forced to sit through yet another installment of the mind-numbing series.

The film opened without press screenings, which seems an entirely reasonable tactic since only the most video-game obsessed viewers will appreciate the endless battle sequences that do an admittedly terrific job of replicating the games' artificial visuals with live humans and a prodigious amount of CGI effects.

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For those keeping track, this installment ends precisely where the previous one ended, with a titanic battle sequence aboard a ship where Alice is fighting the multitudinous forces of the evil Umbrella Corporation which is intent on transforming the earths population into flesh-eating zombies.

The action then inexplicably shifts to a placid suburban neighborhood, where Alice is now a blonde housewife who wakes up to a loving husband (Oded Fehr) and an adorable hearing-impaired young daughter (Aryana Engineer). But it isnt long before reality rushes back, in the form of legions of undead who swarm their home.

It all naturally turns out to be a dream sequence, with Alice then reawakening in the corporations confines clad in -- much to the delight of the teenage boy fan base -- some barely concealing towels. But it doesnt take long for her to don her trademark skintight black latex suit and automatic weaponry to once again take battle against a variety of monsters. These include a pair of menacing giants waving what look like meat tenderizers and numerous creatures with enough tentacles bursting out of their mouths to spur hungry theatergoers into craving fried calamari.

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Thats pretty much it for the plot in this particularly action-heavy fifth edition that helpfully includes an introductory narration by Jovovich to bring viewers up to speed. Other story elements are provided by explanatory computer graphics that help clue us in to who exactly is fighting who.

Featuring brief appearances by enough veterans of previous installments to please rabid fans if confuse the uninitiated, the film features man sequences in simulated versions of such cities as Moscow, Tokyo and New York, all of which, not surprisingly, emerge the worse for wear.

Its all pretty much an excuse for the lithe Jovovich to engage in a constant series of gravity-defying fight scenes in a futuristic universe apparently devoid of carbohydrates and most laws of physics. Shes accompanied for much of these violent exercises by a new sidekick, Ada Wong (Li Bingbing), whose dress cut up to the waist makes it convenient for her to access the firepower strapped to her upper thigh.

Director Paul W.S. Anderson stages these sequences with his usual flair, using a variety of elaborate effects that include x-ray visuals in which we get to see the bloody effects of the carnage on bones and organs from an inner as well as outer perspective.

The blas reactions to the violent mayhem from an opening day crowd demonstrated that even the series longtime fans may be reaching their saturation point, although a climactic scene in which one of the characters declares that this is the beginning of the end indicates that at least one more apocalyptic installment will be hitting multiplexes before too long.

Opened Sept. 14 (Screen Gems).

Production: Constantin Films, Davis Films/Impact Pictures.

CAST: Milla Jovovich, Michelle Rodriguez, Kevin Durand, Sienna Guillory, Shwan Roberts, Aryana Engineer, Colin Salmon, Johann Urb, Boris Kodjoe, Li Bingbing.

Director/screenwriter: Paul W.S. Anderson.

Producers: Jeremy Bolt, Paul W.S. Anderson, Samuel Hadida, Don Carmody, Robert Kulzer.

Executive producer: Martin Moszkowicz.

Director of photography: Glen MacPherson.

Editor: Niven Howie.

Production designer: Kevin Phipps.

Costume designer: Wendy Partidge.

Music: Tomandandy.

Rated R, 95 min.

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In the House: Toronto Review

TORONTO In Francois Ozon's Swimming Pool, a parched crime writers creativity is reinvigorated by her proximity to a sexually uninhibited younger woman. A less carnal male twist on that dynamic sparks the director's seductive new film, In the House (Dans la maison), which is perhaps his strongest work since the 2003 drama. This time the older figure is a joyless schoolteacher and failed novelist whose vicarious involvement in a gifted students reality-based fiction reawakens his senses until the scenario gets out of hand.

Freely adapted by Ozon from Spanish playwright Juan Mayorgas The Boy in the Last Row, this is a delicious, teasing reflection on mentoring, the creative process and the very nature of fiction, with its ability to conjure alternate lives and more fulfilling identities for both author and reader. It may be a touch too muted and ambiguous in its payoff for some audiences, but its charged with the same flavorful air of dangerous sensuality and subversive humor that first put its French writer-director on the map.

A literature teacher at the pointedly named Gustave Flaubert Lyceum, Germain (Fabrice Luchini) is beyond despair over his grammatically impeded students refusal to engage. So when, as a written assignment, Claude (Ernst Umhauer) turns in a meticulously detailed account of his weekend thats as psychologically intriguing as it is ethically troubling, Germain is hooked.

It's the first of many such essays, and each of Claudes installments ends with the phrase to be continued. Initially reserved in his encouragement, Germain begins prodding the student in more daring directions, urging the youth to love his characters.

Claudes serialized soap opera actually revolves around the normal middle-class family of his fellow student Rapha (Bastien Ughetto), a source of envy and desire. With the symbolic weight of their home underlined in the films title, production designer Arnaud de Moleron has given the family a tidy two-story cottage fit for a suburban fairy tale. Nestled on a patch of perfect green lawn, its shot by Jerome Almeras with caressing elegance. This imagery becomes even more significant when, late in the film, a glimpse of Claudes contrasting domestic situation is finally revealed.

As is often the case with Ozon, hints of homoeroticism ripple through the scenes between the young writer and both Germain and Rapha, a dim bulb being tutored in math by Claude. When Rapha reads an essay in class ruminating on whether Claude has overtaken his jolly father, Rapha Sr. (Denis Menochet), as his best friend, the kids self-exposure is agonizing.

Claude played by Umhauer with an ingratiating openness that could be calculated or innocent works his charms on everyone as he infiltrates the family. But the real object he covets is Raphas exquisitely bored mother Esther (Emmanuelle Seigner, gorgeous), who floats through the house wearing pretty floral-print dresses, the quintessential Euro-MILF. When the story acquires darker, more sexual overtones, Germain raises his eyebrows and asks, What is this, Pasolini? Even without the question, however, the echoes of Teorema are clear.

As we watch each new episode unfold, Germain shares the chapters with his frustrated wife Jeanne (Kristin Scott Thomas, in fine acerbic form). The manager-curator of an art gallery whose job is in jeopardy, she becomes an equally avid reader. Some of the visual jokes concerning Jeannes questionable taste in contemporary art are heavy-handed, but they serve to underline the gulf dividing her from classicist Germain, which Claude also picks up on and exploits.

A puzzle-like element infuses the film as both teacher and student exert their influence on the narrative taking shape, with Germain physically intruding on the fiction to comment at key points. While the line between imagination and reality is continually blurred, its clear in the cruel final developments that ultimate control always rests with the writer. But Ozon refuses to make Claude irredeemable or to negate the mutual rewards of their exchange.

Philippe Rombis lush orchestral score sometimes indicates otherwise, but relatively little of any great dramatic substance happens at least not in the definitively real version of the story. The pleasure of the film is the ways in which Ozon finds tension in Claudes interaction with the family and with Germain, who makes some reckless choices. The very ordinariness of the familys existence is rendered exotic through Claudes eyes, fueling a sustained sense of mystery as to where things are headed.

Doing a complete switch from his more comic roles and his obnoxious character in Ozons Potiche, Luchini plays a richly contradictory figure here. Part poignant sad sack, part uptight prig and part exploitative predator, his participation in Claudes story becoming almost maniacally voyeuristic. Under the directors firm hand, the entire cast does incisive work.

Venue: Toronto Film Festival (Special Presentation; Cohen Media Group)

Production companies: Mandarin Cinema, FOZ, France 2 Cinema, Mars Films

Cast: Fabrice Luchini, Kristin Scott Thomas, Emmanuelle Seigner, Denis Menochet, Ernst Umhauer, Bastien Ughetto, Jean-Francois Balmer, Yolande Moreau, Catherine Davenier

Director-screenwriter: Francois Ozon, freely adapted from the play The Boy in the Last Row, by Juan Mayorga

Producers: Eric Altmayer, Nicolas Altmayer

Director of photography: Jerome Almeras

Production designer: Arnaud de Moleron

Music: Philippe Rombi

Costume designer: Pascaline Chavanne

Editor: Laure Gardette

Sales: Wild Bunch

No rating, 105 minutes

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In the House: Toronto Review

TORONTO In Francois Ozon's Swimming Pool, a parched crime writers creativity is reinvigorated by her proximity to a sexually uninhibited younger woman. A less carnal male twist on that dynamic sparks the director's seductive new film, In the House (Dans la maison), which is perhaps his strongest work since the 2003 drama. This time the older figure is a joyless schoolteacher and failed novelist whose vicarious involvement in a gifted students reality-based fiction reawakens his senses until the scenario gets out of hand.

Freely adapted by Ozon from Spanish playwright Juan Mayorgas The Boy in the Last Row, this is a delicious, teasing reflection on mentoring, the creative process and the very nature of fiction, with its ability to conjure alternate lives and more fulfilling identities for both author and reader. It may be a touch too muted and ambiguous in its payoff for some audiences, but its charged with the same flavorful air of dangerous sensuality and subversive humor that first put its French writer-director on the map.

A literature teacher at the pointedly named Gustave Flaubert Lyceum, Germain (Fabrice Luchini) is beyond despair over his grammatically impeded students refusal to engage. So when, as a written assignment, Claude (Ernst Umhauer) turns in a meticulously detailed account of his weekend thats as psychologically intriguing as it is ethically troubling, Germain is hooked.

It's the first of many such essays, and each of Claudes installments ends with the phrase to be continued. Initially reserved in his encouragement, Germain begins prodding the student in more daring directions, urging the youth to love his characters.

Claudes serialized soap opera actually revolves around the normal middle-class family of his fellow student Rapha (Bastien Ughetto), a source of envy and desire. With the symbolic weight of their home underlined in the films title, production designer Arnaud de Moleron has given the family a tidy two-story cottage fit for a suburban fairy tale. Nestled on a patch of perfect green lawn, its shot by Jerome Almeras with caressing elegance. This imagery becomes even more significant when, late in the film, a glimpse of Claudes contrasting domestic situation is finally revealed.

As is often the case with Ozon, hints of homoeroticism ripple through the scenes between the young writer and both Germain and Rapha, a dim bulb being tutored in math by Claude. When Rapha reads an essay in class ruminating on whether Claude has overtaken his jolly father, Rapha Sr. (Denis Menochet), as his best friend, the kids self-exposure is agonizing.

Claude played by Umhauer with an ingratiating openness that could be calculated or innocent works his charms on everyone as he infiltrates the family. But the real object he covets is Raphas exquisitely bored mother Esther (Emmanuelle Seigner, gorgeous), who floats through the house wearing pretty floral-print dresses, the quintessential Euro-MILF. When the story acquires darker, more sexual overtones, Germain raises his eyebrows and asks, What is this, Pasolini? Even without the question, however, the echoes of Teorema are clear.

As we watch each new episode unfold, Germain shares the chapters with his frustrated wife Jeanne (Kristin Scott Thomas, in fine acerbic form). The manager-curator of an art gallery whose job is in jeopardy, she becomes an equally avid reader. Some of the visual jokes concerning Jeannes questionable taste in contemporary art are heavy-handed, but they serve to underline the gulf dividing her from classicist Germain, which Claude also picks up on and exploits.

A puzzle-like element infuses the film as both teacher and student exert their influence on the narrative taking shape, with Germain physically intruding on the fiction to comment at key points. While the line between imagination and reality is continually blurred, its clear in the cruel final developments that ultimate control always rests with the writer. But Ozon refuses to make Claude irredeemable or to negate the mutual rewards of their exchange.

Philippe Rombis lush orchestral score sometimes indicates otherwise, but relatively little of any great dramatic substance happens at least not in the definitively real version of the story. The pleasure of the film is the ways in which Ozon finds tension in Claudes interaction with the family and with Germain, who makes some reckless choices. The very ordinariness of the familys existence is rendered exotic through Claudes eyes, fueling a sustained sense of mystery as to where things are headed.

Doing a complete switch from his more comic roles and his obnoxious character in Ozons Potiche, Luchini plays a richly contradictory figure here. Part poignant sad sack, part uptight prig and part exploitative predator, his participation in Claudes story becoming almost maniacally voyeuristic. Under the directors firm hand, the entire cast does incisive work.

Venue: Toronto Film Festival (Special Presentation; Cohen Media Group)

Production companies: Mandarin Cinema, FOZ, France 2 Cinema, Mars Films

Cast: Fabrice Luchini, Kristin Scott Thomas, Emmanuelle Seigner, Denis Menochet, Ernst Umhauer, Bastien Ughetto, Jean-Francois Balmer, Yolande Moreau, Catherine Davenier

Director-screenwriter: Francois Ozon, freely adapted from the play The Boy in the Last Row, by Juan Mayorga

Producers: Eric Altmayer, Nicolas Altmayer

Director of photography: Jerome Almeras

Production designer: Arnaud de Moleron

Music: Philippe Rombi

Costume designer: Pascaline Chavanne

Editor: Laure Gardette

Sales: Wild Bunch

No rating, 105 minutes

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Inch'Allah: Toronto Review

Among the growing number of films coming out of Palestine, one can see the divide opening up between locally made, no-budget documentaries like Emad Burnat and Guy Davidis stirring 5 Broken Cameras and well-financed Western coprods like Denis Villeneuves Oscar nominee Incendies. Squarely in the latter category, the Canadian-French InchAllah has all the right credentials, including writer-director Anais Barbeau-Lavalettes (If I Had a Hat, The Fight) passionate feeling for the region, but lacks the originality to catch fire, or to go beyond an outsiders p.o.v. In the end, it illuminates Western preconceptions more than the motivation behind terrorism. Tackling such a sensitive and controversial topic in a highly obvious way, the drama will have some trouble slipping past the festival wall into commercial arenas, though following its Toronto bow, it will be released in Quebec by Les Films Christal at the end of the month.

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The action opens with a powerful explosion in an Israeli outdoor caf, which will be explained at the end of the film. The whole story unfolds through the unblinking, doe-like eyes of Chloe (Evelyne Brochu), a young Canadian obstetrician who is working in a clinic for pregnant women in a refugee camp in Ramallah, Palestine. Every night she passes through border control on her way back to her Jerusalem apartment. She spends evenings on the town with her drinking buddy Ava (Sivan Levy), an Israeli conscript her own age whose much more expressive eyes convey the horror and despair she feels over her work as an armed border guard.

In the clinic, Chloe becomes close to the pregnant Rand (Sabrina Ouazani) and her militant big brother Faysal (Yousef Sweid.) The poorest of the poor, Rand and her little brother, the autistic Safi, scavenge in a garbage dump along the wall separating the camp from a settlement of Israeli colonists. There are skirmishes. When one character is deliberately crushed under an Israeli army tank, and another is sentenced to 25 years in prison, and another is cruelly denied access to the hospital that would save her baby, the stage is set and the fuse is lit.

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Barbeau-Lavalettes screenplay is too by-the-numbers to convince an audience that reality is this simple. Its portrait of endless misery is unleavened by the joking camaraderie and family warmth that local filmmakers normally inject to lighten the load (Elia Suleiman springs readily to mind.) More importantly, her Canadian protag seems too inert to have ever landed up where she did, making her an untrustworthy witness to all these tragedies.

If Brochu seems permanently depressed and distanced in the lead role, the lively, outspoken Ouazani makes Rand intense and appealing, if unpredictable. Sivan Levy (Polytechnique, Caf de Flore) brings a pleasing psychological complexity to the Israeli character Ava that helps balance the story a little bit.

Tech work is good throughout, while Levon Minassians somber, dirge-like music track underlines the tragedy of the war.

Venue: Toronto Film Festival, Sept. 12, 2012.

Production companies: micro-scope (Canada), ID Unlimited (France) in association with July August Productions (Israel)

Cast: Evelyne Brochu, Sabrina Ouazani, Sivan Levy, Yousef Sweid, Carlo Brandt, Marie-Therese Fortin
Director: Anais Barbeau-Lavalette

Screenwriter: Anais Barbeau-Lavalette
Producer: Luc Dery, Kim McCraw

Coproducer: Isabelle Dubar

Associate producers: Eilon Ratzovsky, Yochanan Kredo
Director of photography: Philippe Lavalette

Production designer: Andre-Line Beauparlant

Costumes: Sophie Lefebvre

Editor: Sophie Leblond

Music: Levon Minassian

Sales Agent: eOne Entertainment

No rating, 101 minutes.

Read More

Inch'Allah: Toronto Review

Among the growing number of films coming out of Palestine, one can see the divide opening up between locally made, no-budget documentaries like Emad Burnat and Guy Davidis stirring 5 Broken Cameras and well-financed Western coprods like Denis Villeneuves Oscar nominee Incendies. Squarely in the latter category, the Canadian-French InchAllah has all the right credentials, including writer-director Anais Barbeau-Lavalettes (If I Had a Hat, The Fight) passionate feeling for the region, but lacks the originality to catch fire, or to go beyond an outsiders p.o.v. In the end, it illuminates Western preconceptions more than the motivation behind terrorism. Tackling such a sensitive and controversial topic in a highly obvious way, the drama will have some trouble slipping past the festival wall into commercial arenas, though following its Toronto bow, it will be released in Quebec by Les Films Christal at the end of the month.

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The action opens with a powerful explosion in an Israeli outdoor caf, which will be explained at the end of the film. The whole story unfolds through the unblinking, doe-like eyes of Chloe (Evelyne Brochu), a young Canadian obstetrician who is working in a clinic for pregnant women in a refugee camp in Ramallah, Palestine. Every night she passes through border control on her way back to her Jerusalem apartment. She spends evenings on the town with her drinking buddy Ava (Sivan Levy), an Israeli conscript her own age whose much more expressive eyes convey the horror and despair she feels over her work as an armed border guard.

In the clinic, Chloe becomes close to the pregnant Rand (Sabrina Ouazani) and her militant big brother Faysal (Yousef Sweid.) The poorest of the poor, Rand and her little brother, the autistic Safi, scavenge in a garbage dump along the wall separating the camp from a settlement of Israeli colonists. There are skirmishes. When one character is deliberately crushed under an Israeli army tank, and another is sentenced to 25 years in prison, and another is cruelly denied access to the hospital that would save her baby, the stage is set and the fuse is lit.

PHOTOS: Toronto 2012: Inside THR's Video Diary Featuring the Festival's Leading Talent

Barbeau-Lavalettes screenplay is too by-the-numbers to convince an audience that reality is this simple. Its portrait of endless misery is unleavened by the joking camaraderie and family warmth that local filmmakers normally inject to lighten the load (Elia Suleiman springs readily to mind.) More importantly, her Canadian protag seems too inert to have ever landed up where she did, making her an untrustworthy witness to all these tragedies.

If Brochu seems permanently depressed and distanced in the lead role, the lively, outspoken Ouazani makes Rand intense and appealing, if unpredictable. Sivan Levy (Polytechnique, Caf de Flore) brings a pleasing psychological complexity to the Israeli character Ava that helps balance the story a little bit.

Tech work is good throughout, while Levon Minassians somber, dirge-like music track underlines the tragedy of the war.

Venue: Toronto Film Festival, Sept. 12, 2012.

Production companies: micro-scope (Canada), ID Unlimited (France) in association with July August Productions (Israel)

Cast: Evelyne Brochu, Sabrina Ouazani, Sivan Levy, Yousef Sweid, Carlo Brandt, Marie-Therese Fortin
Director: Anais Barbeau-Lavalette

Screenwriter: Anais Barbeau-Lavalette
Producer: Luc Dery, Kim McCraw

Coproducer: Isabelle Dubar

Associate producers: Eilon Ratzovsky, Yochanan Kredo
Director of photography: Philippe Lavalette

Production designer: Andre-Line Beauparlant

Costumes: Sophie Lefebvre

Editor: Sophie Leblond

Music: Levon Minassian

Sales Agent: eOne Entertainment

No rating, 101 minutes.

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