Paul Schrader’s Oh, Canada Is the Confession of a Man Who’s Faced Death

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As a cinephile who’s traversed through the labyrinth of film history, I must confess that Paul Schrader’s latest masterpiece, “Oh, Canada,” has left me utterly spellbound. It’s not every day that one encounters a filmmaker who can so deftly weave together the threads of life, art, and mortality, all while maintaining an air of unyielding elegance.

Originally shared during the Cannes Film Festival on May 18, 2024, we’re re-sharing this review today in anticipation of the movie’s release in Canadian theaters.

If Paul Schrader’s recent films have become famous for depicting a solitary man writing in an empty room, his latest work takes this concept and turns it upside down. It may seem odd to some that these stark films, particularly the “Man in a Room” trilogy consisting of “First Reformed” (2017), “The Card Counter” (2021), and “Master Gardener” (2022), have resonated with younger audiences. However, consider his troubled protagonists as figures to aspire to, as individuals who learn to align their deepest thoughts with their actions. In this perspective, these films strike a chord with an audience that grew up during times of both constant solitude and constant communal scrutiny.

In this adaptation of Russell Bank’s novel “Foregone,” titled “Oh, Canada” by Schrader, we encounter a dying man, portrayed by Richard Gere as Leonard Fife, who laments the perceived disparity between his private self and his public persona. As he reflects, “When there’s no future left, all that remains is the past.” He continues, “If your past is false, then you fade away.” This isn’t a solitary figure in a barren room; instead, Fife is on camera, amidst lights and microphones, despite his evident illness. He agrees to this final interview as an opportunity for honesty, and he requests the presence of his wife Emma (Uma Thurman), making the encounter feel like a confessional session that’s truly authentic to him.

As a cinephile, I find myself captivated by the intriguing tale of Fife, whose politically charged films have earned him acclaim in Canada. Escaping the U.S. draft in his twenties, he has left an indelible mark on cinema. The movie weaves between the reflections of this ailing documentarian and fragments from his past, creating a labyrinthine effect akin to Bernardo Bertolucci’s masterpiece, “The Conformist.” Memories cascade into one another, with flashbacks interrupting the present. Jacob Elordi portrays the younger Fife, yet in scenes where time blurs, Richard Gere himself occasionally emerges in his character’s recollections. Thurman reappears as another figure from his past, echoing Dominique Sanda’s complex and symbolic roles in “The Conformist.

In my perspective, I’d rather share tales of my personal life over discussing my career, as it includes my wife and young son back in Virginia, as well as other poignant moments that have marked my journey. I’ve established a career based on principles and ideological battles, yet my past, with its ruins, continues to linger in my thoughts. Throughout the narrative, I subtly hint at darker secrets – secrets I claim Emma remains unaware of. The film maintains these enigmas until close to the end. When the long-awaited disclosures surface, they might seem underwhelming. This movie isn’t about a single instance of betrayal or deceit, but rather it delves into the universal theme that our lives are haunted by shame and shortcomings, secrets we keep hidden due to convenience and fear.

It’s understandable why Schrader might have found this material appealing. Not only does aging often bring forth thoughts of mortality, but Schrader himself experienced a health scare a couple of years ago and openly discussed it at the time. Additionally, Banks, a friend of Schrader’s and author of the novel upon which he based one of his most beloved films, “Affliction,” passed away in early 2023. All these factors likely contributed to the idea of making a film about a dying filmmaker’s testament. However, despite the narrative bleakness of “Oh, Canada,” the film is stylistically light and agile, almost ethereal. The frequent transitions between timelines give the 91-minute movie a smooth flow, while songs by Matthew Houck (also known as Phosphorescent) add a poetic quality to Fife’s wanderings, much like the Michael Been songs used in Schrader’s 1992 film “Light Sleeper.” Although “Oh, Canada” may have been born from a dark period of soul-searching, it moves towards hope and potential. Whether this brightness symbolizes Canada or what we call the afterlife is open to interpretation. Nonetheless, it seems as though a great burden has been lifted from both its protagonist’s and its creator’s shoulders.

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2024-12-04 22:53