While a commercially-driven story about the GameStop fiasco and a meditative documentary about the beauty of Mother Earth might seem like world’s apart, films like this also illustrate just how diverse a Toronto International Film Festival lineup can be. For the festival’s 2023 edition, my first report will cover Craig Gillespie‘s Dumb Money and Margreth Olin‘s Songs of Earth.
Dumb Money (Craig Gillespie)
While the ‘GamesStop Revolution’ feels like something that just happened yesterday, Hollywood has been quick to the game in adapting this true-to-life Robin Hood story. Dumb Money, from Craig Gillespie, is a surprisingly touching piece of dramatic storytelling infused with just the right amount of comedic elements. Paul Dano shines in what is yet another tame and masterful performance, anchoring an ensemble that shines in a truly enjoyable film.
Capturing events that we all just lived through, the film focuses on Keith Gill (Dano) – known on the internet as Roaring Kitty or DeepFuckingValue – a financial analyst with a strong presence on YouTube and Reddit, who’s barely able to keep food on the table for his wife (Shailene Woodley) and baby. When he grows wary of major hedge funds shorting the GameStop stock, he rallies his growing number of online followers in what ended up becoming a surprising battle between the people and Wall Street amidst a global pandemic. The cast also features Seth Rogen, America Ferrera, Nick Offerman, Vincent D’Onofrio, Sebastian Stan, Talia Ryder, Myha’la Herrold and Pete Davidson.
Much like the movement itself, Dumb Money is lifted by a vibrant kinetic energy that seems to grow organically as the story progresses. Without ever overplaying its comedic moments – even with the always hilarious Davidson as a supporting player – Lauren Schuker Blum and Rebecca Angelo’s screenplay really does replicate the sense of urgency surrounding the events. The movement didn’t necessarily happen overnight, but when things started to pick up, it felt unstoppable. The pacing of the film certainly mirrors this sense of reactionary momentum, creating a sense of riveting excitement as the story plays out.
Having Keith (Dano’s character) serve as both the moral and overall narrative anchor for the film not only humanizes the film, but really captures the outsider/grassroots identity of the movement. By surrounding him with other ‘regular’ Americans hoping to turn the corporate world on its head, the story curves away from being a simple David versus Goliath story. Rather, the overall messaging of Dumb Money has a strong emotional core and feels genuinely inclusive.
Despite having a final act that does seem to tie things up in a fairly traditional manner, it doesn’t exaggerate its relevance as a true story. What happened was important, but also just a brief (and fairly recent) moment in time, and the film appropriately leave the impact of its aftermath up in the air. On the surface, Dumb Money feels like an easily digestible commercial film that seems to lean on its crowd-pleasing sensibilities. Unlike The Social Network or Moneyball, which approached its true stories with a far more technical and perhaps morally ambiguous lens, Gillespie has chosen to create something that’s intentionally accessible to audiences. And for a film that’s all about a movement of financial inclusion and equality, this was truly a smart decision.
Songs of Earth (Margreth Olin)
For a documentary that can at times feel like a refined National Geographic exposé on the beauties of nature, Songs of Earth is truly an enthralling portrait of nature and mortality. Using her parents as subjects in the foreground, Margreth Olin pieces together breathtaking shots of natural landscapes with intimate conversations about human existence within these vast and scenic environments. It’s a surprisingly contemplative film that speaks volume to how insignificant humankind is in comparison to the grand allure of our lovely planet.
For much of the film, we see Olin’s father traverse the often harsh natural terrains of Norway, establishing the film’s central perspective on the true scale of mother nature. Seeing an aging man in comparison to the scenic landscapes surrounding him, the stage is set for what becomes a contemplative discourse on legacy. Specifically, after we leave this Earth, what actually remains of us? Detailing a tree that was planted generations ago, along with mountains that stand still for hundreds of years, the film really does outline the limitations of human mortality.
Even the concept of love – which is explored through the parents’ relationship – doesn’t seem to outlive the everlasting presence of nature, and the film really hits its emotional strides during these scenes. Superimposing these intimate and humanistic moments with the eternity of nature’s landscapes creates a certain perspective on life that really makes use of the cinematic artform. The film’s lush cinematography (which is helmed by Lars Erlend Tubaas Øymo, Herman Lersveen, Torbjørn Martinsen and Dag Asle Mykløen) plays a big role, but so does Olin’s intuition as an emotional storyteller.
For a documentary, Songs of Earth is an intensely atmospheric exercise in filmmaking. Olin has a keen sense of grandeur and is somehow able to embed a unique sense of emotional fortitude into non-fiction storytelling, which is rare. I dare say that there are even hints of Terrence Malick’s Tree of Life at times, which speaks to the film’s overly contemplative tonal focus and beautiful execution. This will certainly be one of the most inventive documentaries of the year.
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