The Hudson's Bay almost killed me.
A beautifully realized film about identity and malaise. Zach's control of the camera is mystifying — his decision to hold these long, long takes and then suddenly move at the exact right time to maximize emotional impact is like a sixth sense.
There's a bedroom scene here that was so piercingly real, it felt like I had spoken the exact words one of the character says in real life. In the Q&A Zach later called it "some bullshit" which was a nice bit of levity.
No disrespect to the many talented artists who painstakingly worked on this, but woof. Reductive, dull, and repellent.
At no point does it feel like this particular story needs to be told in this particular way. It really doesn’t feel like the story needs to be told at all really! An exercise in form for form’s sake.
There is a strain of exciting, insane, wildly independent filmmaking going on in Toronto right now and this is the absolute pinnacle of it. Unbeholden to any greater power structures with the goal of simply making great, weird, personal art. The city might be hellbent on snuffing out the independent arts but shit like this gives me faith they will never be extinguished.
Seeing people get shit dumped on them never stopped being funny. Not once.
