Where is the line between a film’s self-indulgence, and camp?
I wanted to like this film. I tried to like this film. As a cinema studies student, I was primed to enjoy this film’s premise: a director sharing his life through an on-camera interview, as the complications of his character begin to unfold. Yet, I cannot say this film works beyond an exercise in what is or isn’t camp.
Oh, Canada centers on the life story of fictional documentarian Leo Fife (played by Richard Gere in the present day, and Jacob Elordie in the past) as he sits down for a tell-all interview about his life. With his wife by his side (played by Uma Thurman), Fife begins to reveal elements of his life previously left hidden. The film is based on the novel Foregone by Russell Banks, and was adapted and directed by Paul Schrader.
In Susan Sontag’s notable essay regarding the subject, she differentiates between naïve and deliberate camp. The former encompasses films which naturally embody the spirit of camp while trying to project seriousness. The latter refers to films which actively seek out the designation of “camp” and, as Sontag puts it, are usually less satisfying. I do not believe that Oh, Canada was necessarily attempting to reach deliberate camp. However, while watching the film I tried to see if it could gain more enjoyment when examined through the lens of naïve camp. There are moments of over-dramatics sprinkled throughout the runtime as if aspiring for a mode of outlandishness, yet the film as a whole does not feel as if it is seeking a state of extravagance. There are lines of dialogue which overtly try to establish the film’s own seriousness, yet even when that fails, it does not do so from the heights of exaggeration and passion. As such, based on Sontag’s Notes on Camp, the film Oh, Canada fails to reach the pinnacles of good, naïve camp.
All of the cast does a good job bringing gravity to their respective roles. Gere and Thurman in particular showcase their expertise by slowly uncovering emotional layers for each of their characters. While this is neither of their best work, it continues to cement them as reliable performers who can help elevate a film. Jacob Elordie’s performance is strong, providing him with opportunities to explore his range more than in some of his previous works. He commits fully to the film, and while his believability falters in moments when he is asked to play notably older or younger than his age, he stabilizes in later portions of the film. Overall, fans of his will enjoy seeing him in a different sort of environment, but it feels as if he can excel and challenge himself in a different role.
The shots of this film themselves are composed in almost dizzying jumps from square to widescreen ratios, full colour to black-and-white. Many films have used these techniques before as a tool for designating a difference in time or to help communicate story beats. Unfortunately, in Oh, Canada, these changes can feel unmotivated, distracting, and an attempt to showcase the abilities of the film’s cinematography. The sound design excels, providing crisp folly work to bring the world alive. Balancing the mix of booming grand wooden doors in contrast to the rattle of Gere’s metal wheelchair parallels the conflicts with the film’s central character’s legacy. The dialogue also switches sources between spoken in the room and into the documentary microphones, taking the audience through mediums in pursuit of truth.
In regards to the script, while the core themes are themselves strong, the dialogue feels severely over-written and self-indulgent. Characters will flip from more traditional speaking patterns to wax poetic about how a young intern “smells like desire itself” with such speed that it almost feels like an attempt at camp. I wish the film gave in to the melodramatic tendencies more, which would facilitate a sense of self-awareness and critique of the protagonist. The script, like much of the film itself, feels like an attempt to showcase the ability to tell a ‘serious’ story. By having multiple monologues draw importance to themselves alongside meta-analysis of film, the audience begins to feel in between a movie and a university lecture. This story could have been told more naturally and effectively with lighter and simpler dialogue rather than trying to showcase all abilities at the same time.
There are strong themes and core aspects of the story which I found intriguing. Explorations of artifice, myth, and legacy are brilliant for the medium of film. The film’s own process of editing, deciding which takes, which scenes make the final cut is itself creating a story. Oh, Canada is strongest when leveraging that self-awareness in careful consideration. Leo Fife’s legacy is built upon the films he made, and how he used the medium to craft narrative. Yet that image itself is a product of artifice. He agrees to the filmed interview as a way to document the realities of his life. He makes it clear many times that he would be unable to share his truths without the camera rolling. He is a documentarian through and through. He also feels the need for his wife to bear witness. He laments on the ways he has wronged her and the lack of acknowledgement for her hidden contributions to his career. Fife’s final moments are secretly recorded, taken to be used by others now in crafting his legacy, bringing those themes to the forefront of the film.
I was particularly intrigued by the connections of these themes with the nation and history of Canada itself. The image of Canada has been scrubbed clean, much like the film’s protagonist. The history of oppressed peoples who have been exploited for the construction of Canada (such as Chinese labourers with the Canadian Pacific Railway) has been forgotten for a contemporary image of inclusion and acceptance. Oh, Canada specifically makes reference to the history of the residential school system through quick clips. Criticisms of the Canadian myth and legacy tie in well to the process of filmmaking. But in balancing these themes through the idea of Canada as a nation, the process of filmmaking, and the life of the film’s central character, the messaging is diluted.
In order to summarize my thoughts on Oh, Canada, I feel it would be best to discuss the ending of the film. Do beware of this spoiler ahead of watching the film yourself, as I found great joy in the surprise of this moment (though I feel not in any intended manner). After he was able to avoid the Vietnam war draft, Elordie travelled to the Canadian border. Through parallel editing, the audience sees Gere slowly die. As the past and present cut back-and-forth a metallic rock version of the Canadian national anthem begins to play. Eventually, as Elordie steps into the Canadian fields, and Gere takes his final breath, they both almost moan out the words “Oh, Canada!”
I wish I was making that up.
