TIFF 2018 – Day 2: Les Salopes, Ever After

Les Salopes or the Naturally Wanton Pleasure of Skin.

Les Salopes or the Naturally Wanton Pleasure of Skin (Canada, 2018): Instead of making yet another coming-of-age-in-cottage-country movie (or, uh, Little Italy), the Quebecois film industry is exploring far more interesting territory, in this case, desire in women after 40. The lead of Les Salopes, Marie Claire (Brigitte Poupart, Les Affames), is a married-with-children dermatologist with a series of lovers on the side. Her capacity to separate emotions and sex is remarkable, until it all comes crashing down as those around her are not as “evolved” as her.

For most of its length, Les Salopes progresses unapologetically… to fold in the last twenty minutes. There is a lot to like about the film: Bold ideas about monogamy, a protagonist whose capacity to compartmentalize and sexual drive combine into some kind of pathos, and the use of regular bodies (as opposed to airbrushed supermodels) to depict intercourse. Yet the karmic denouement rings false. Solid effort though. Three and a half prairie dogs. Distribution: In QC, for sure. In SK, fingers crossed.

Ever After (Germany, 2018): Even though we have long reached the point of saturation, zombie movies keep on coming. Ever After is not particularly gory, but the character development is above average and the setting is original if not fully developed.

You know the drill: Virus turns most of mankind into flesh-eating maniacs. The few survivors not only battle zombies, but must fight to preserve their humanity, the usual. In Germany, only two cities stand: Weimar -which kills the undead on-sight- and Jena, which is looking for a cure. The only contact between the two towns is an unmanned train. Two women, a Linda Hamilton-type and one with flagrant PTSD, attempt to ride it all the way to Jena. Suffice to say, the trip doesn’t go to plan.

While short on scares, Ever After is more affecting than the standard zombie romp, and not only because we get to meet the two leads. Two-thirds in, the film takes a turn into allegoric territory, one in which Mother Nature is more than a figure of speech. The move is ballsy, not entirely successful, but doesn’t feel out of place either. Two and a half prairie dogs. Distribution: TBD, although I would be surprised if it doesn’t make it to one of the streaming services.

Author: Jorge Ignacio Castillo

Journalist, film critic, documentary filmmaker, and sometimes nice guy. Member of the Vancouver Film Critics Circle. Like horror flicks, long walks on the beach and candlelight dinners. Allergic to cats.