Tales of loss that find a purpose

Loss is there in the title, the original, long-gone Mohawk word for Toronto. It continues in the central stories of two urban natives whose sense of loss is both real and metaphysical. It resurfaces in an ending where love loses out to prior emotional commitments. If there was a contest to determine who is psychically “The Biggest Loser,” our two leads would win hands-down.
Yet, even with this much loss trailing every frame of Tkaronto, Belcourt finds ways to connect stories, explore issues and – just maybe – restore purpose and direction to the many lost souls in Toronto (where the movie was shot in 17 days with a crew of six). What it lacks in budget and visual finesse – Belcourt is also the director of photography – it makes up for it in intellectual ambition, a moody score from Jordan O'Connor and a moving love story between two roaming artists.
Ray (Duane Murray) is a Métis writer visiting Toronto from Vancouver to pitch his graphic novel to TV producers. Jolene (Melanie McLaren) is an Anishnabe painter based in Los Angles who is in Toronto to do an interview with Max, a native elder (Lorne Cardinal). As Ray is expecting a child with his girlfriend, the pressure is on to sell his vision to a bunch of ignorant, tax-credit-chasing TV executives. Jolene's world is shattered when Max gives her an eagle feather, a symbolic honour, only to realize she has no idea what to do with it. Both Ray and Jolene are urban natives who are outsiders to their own cultures as well as the white, mainstream one they inhabit.
Yes, we've been hearing torn-between-two-worlds stories over and over again since the heyday of identity politics in the eighties. While Belcourt's film helps itself to similar language, it lingers more on the spiritual and emotional cost of cultural alienation. It also does this exploration on gender-neutral terms: Boys and girls shed equal amount of tears, hurt as much and are as likely to get lost.
They can also split into jerks just as democratically. As Ray finds out, men and women in the TV industry are more than happy to exploit his native status as well as his stories. Belcourt makes his point even if the tone of buffoonery in such scenes seems out of place with the wry humour that dominates elsewhere. There are many other specific references to the travesties natives face in the big city, but Tkaronto has enough angst to spare to any demographic group that has ever felt isolated or misunderstood. I mean that as a compliment.
Likely, none of this would have worked as well had it not been for Belcourt's fine cast. Murray and McLaren, who make for a handsome screen couple, bring whimsy and gravitas to their roles. Murray's understanding of his character's self-deprecation is used to enhance his outsider status, while McLaren's self-flagellation over her cultural inadequacy rarely feels forced. Cardinal, now mainly seen on TV as the cop in Corner Gas, gives a touching performance as the elder. I wish Belcourt has written more scenes for him.
There is still a jarring episodic feel to the film, but it allows Belcourt to at least stop and create brilliant little vignettes. The incident where Ray and Jolene visit a tarot card reader (beautifully performed by Rae Ellen Bodie) is one of my favourite scenes, even if it feels looped in from another feature.
I suspect that with a rushed shooting schedule, some scenes came out the way Belcourt wanted, while others didn't. They are the chances you take in guerrilla filmmaking. What remains is a smart debut movie that makes as much sense emotionally as it does socially. p