Having lived in Toronto for 12 years, I feel like I'm in a good position to review Toronto Stories, four interconnected stories told in the same vein as Paris je t'aime and New York Stories. But I can't find my darn sheet with the review restrictions, so I'll keep my opinion to myself for now. Even though it's bugging me SO badly.The problem with Toronto (how many times has that phrase been uttered) is that the city lacks the mythology of those other cities, or even Montreal and Vancouver. Really, if you think of fiction, there are only a handful of contemporary novels (Margaret Atwood's The Robber Bride, Michael Redhill's Consolation and Dionne Brand's What We All Long For come to mind) that are deliberately set in Toronto too. Hogtown usually stands in as other cities for Hollywood features, so maybe that makes it difficult to determine when it's done right. The only thing I'll say is that it was nice to see my old neighbourhoods again, and I really miss cycling through the Bloor Valley trails in the fall. And that director/actor Sook-Yin Lee has no nudity issues, but she totally gets hipster malaise. Oh, and Polkaroo makes a surprise appearance.At the last minute, I decided to bow out of the Atlantic Shorts ||--I really wanted to see Daun Windover's Dirty Laundry and Sarah Byne's Ugly Girl but I was kinda grumpy coming out of Toronto Stories, which is funny because that's how the city makes me feel. I realized I really needed to get out of the public realm when I was in the washroom. A teenager came out of a stall, holding a pregnancy stick, shrugged her shoulders at me and said something about dropping tissue in the toilet. No, actually, she peed all over seat, dumped half of the pregnancy test packaging on the floor and half in the can. So much for being discreet. I hope it works out for ya sweetie, this is one doodle that can't be un-did, homeskillet.
Dinner: trail mix, pumpkin seeds, harboiled egg. Dinner of champions.