Face to Face – 7.5

 A dream cast of diverse individuals, who came alive in turn with each rationalizing monologue. Although se in an alternate resolution proceeding, rather than a jury room, the program’s description of “an Australian 12 Angry Men” rang true. Our perception of the characters developed and changed as we learned more about them, and the act of senseless violence that brought them all together became both more comprehensible and less important as the story wore on. The one drawback: each character’s role was so neatly developed and coherently explained, and things dovetailed so well in only 90 minutes that the movie’s origin in a stage play was a bit transparent; and while a live performance causes us to suspend disbelief, a movie requires rather more realism to be convincing. Still, there were very funny moments, producing the most laughs of the week for me.

Just Between Us – 7.8

A five-person roundelay of marital infidelity, Zagreb-style. The plainness, and in one case plumpness, of the actors augmented the realism, even if the lead’s pickup line – “I’d like to cum on your tits” – didn’t. I’m not sure if the story had a moral – eyes will rove but with compromise and understanding, marriage can endure – but neither does the typical Woody Allen movie. Instead, it is the pleasure of present company and the recognition of common human foibles and frustrations that carry us along.

Pure – 7.9

A Swedish Black Swan, with a Natalie Portmanesque performance by a young woman who reminded me of Emily Primps. There were other echoes of Carey Mulligan in An Education, a girl emerging from the teenage world into an adult milieu that simultaneously matures and devastates her. The other characters were stock, but fine; they, however, were mainly the canvas on which Lisa Langveth’s heroine painted her portrait. [In my census of movies with smokers, which includes almost everything I’ve seen in the last year, this one vaults near the top.]

The Double Hour – 8.4

A cleverly plottd, Christopher-Nolan-like romantic thriller, this rare Italian entry also featured two of the most appealing actors of the SBIFFestival. I knew NAME TK must be a major star when she was shown having explicit sex with her bra on, but I was not prepared for the haunting quality of her face, which, post-festival, is the lingering image in my mind’s eye. One wondered how someone so attractive, even an immigrant from Serbia, could be a hotel chambermaid, but by the movie’s final twist all was explained. And unlike Inception, say, the flights of cinematic fancy seemed to make sense. (Other echoes: the male lead was a soft-edged Javier Bardem, and the mood conjured The American.)