We raced from yum cha on Harborfront on Bixie bikes up York St and along Wellington St to get to TIFF Bell Lightbox for the 13:00 screening of Une Nouvelle Amie, our first TIFF 2014 film. We’re seeing something every night this week; Tuesday will be a regular cinema screening of Boyhood, before it goes off.
Rocking up 5 minutes before screen start time was a good technique; last year we spent ages queueing around the block, with umbrellas, to squeeze into packed cinemas like sardines. When you arrive almost late, just like at the airport, you’re suddenly special. You go right through. The staff outside the cinema direct you to where the spare seats are; there’s no wondering if you’ll get a good seat (you already know you won’t) and it was so much more enjoyable an experience.
I liked the film. I’m not sure if it’s a French cultural thing but I thought there was a difference between transvestite (e.g. the comedian, Izzard, who occasionally wears clothing usually attributed to the opposite gender) and a transsexual or transgender person (a person who’s gender phenotype differs from how they identify, and they go about some process of change, which may or may not be reversible). I had terse words with a referrer from ED a few weeks ago about this distinction (I could not see how giving me “transvestite” in the clinical history was at all clinically relevant to my interpretation of the CT scan – what clothes people wear is irrelevant when you’re looking at their insides unless it’s a too-tight corset, yet if he’d meant “transgender” then obviously the dual gender phenotypes I was observing on the CT were expected findings). The director and lead actors answered Q&A afterward and seemed to completely mash up trans terminologies, and confuse sexuality with gender identity. I cringed quietly in the balcony. The director, answering a question about the open-to-interpretation ending, assumed that the audience would be divided in opinion according to our sexualities: “gay” and “straight” – except the film was about gender identity. I’d give it 3.5/5 stars.
We walked through The Bay and the Eaton Centre on our way home – now that we’ve signed up for Dîner en Blanc we have to buy friggen white clothes to wear and can I find white pants or jeans that aren’t super skinny and impossible to get over my massive quads!?
Pete just dropped by with a galaktoboureko from Serano Bakery, as they had dinner on Danforth and we couldn’t go, but I had absolutely no shame in asking them to pick me up dessert. Kind of defeats the purpose of dragging Julian and Daniel downstairs earlier tonight to do 20 minutes of cardio in the exercise room. 7 weeks until the wedding. Must fit into my tux.