SBIFF Day 7 | Of Truffles and Producers

Truffle Trouble in Paradise

Trifole qualifies as one of the feel-good (or mostly good) taste treats of this year’s festival roster, a deeply satisfying and yet also surprising adventure in cinematic storytelling. In director and co-writer Gabriele Fabbro’s glowing ode to nature, myth and truffle folklore, we’re initially seduced by the splendor and lucid light of the rural Italian landscape. Three principal characters on the screen —  the elderly truffle hunter Igor (Umberto Orsini) who is losing his memory and mental grip, his granddaughter Dalia (Ydalie Turk) in the process of “figuring it out” in life, and the faithful pooch Birba, the most centered of the three characters.

In what seems like a patient and luminous slice-of-life study takes a left turn in the wilderness during Dalia’s trek to find a magical truffle. Fairytale-like qualities segue into a chaotic and circus-y Fellini-esque passage in the big city of Alba, but with a humble resolution in store. All in all, Trifole strikes a tone, or suite of tones, perfectly complimented by the classic theme from Borodin’s opera Prince Igor (later used in Kismet). Awe of nature and the stuff of myth win out here.

Not surprisingly, in the post screening Q&A, Fabbro explained that the root source of the script idea, written by himself and actress Turk, came from discussions with native Italians in the Langhe region, home to the Alba White truffle.

“It’s a fable in terms of outcomes,” Fabbro commented, “but a lot of the dialogue is from the people there. This whole movie came about from us being sponges.”

He talked about the luminous visuals and slow pacing of the countryside scenes, in which “most of the shots are static long shots. Because truffle-hunting is so humble, we wanted to use equipment everybody can have access to, and used these lenses you can buy for $50 on eBay. And because of a technical defect in this lens, a hot spot or highlight becomes softer.”

As part of the film’s essential statement, once the action movies to the city, the film approach grows kinetic and confusing, and “there’s so much camera movement it almost makes you sick. Modernity is not precise and doesn’t know what to do.”

Fabbro asserted that one of the takeaway messages of his film is to promote “making space in life for nature. The more we are in contact with technology, the more we lose touch with nature. We come from nature and are not in charge of it.”

Giving the Producers Some

In the programming scheme of SBIFF, as at any film festivals with a similarly high stakes slate of film professionals in the houses, the fate of a “Producer’s Panel” might seem like an also-ran event. Crowds are naturally drawn to the celebrity actor tributes (such as the crazed feeding frenzy of Sunday night’s “Virtuosos Award” night, with Arianna Grande, Selena Gomez and others), and filmmaking hopefuls and nerds are always drawn to the Writer’s Panel and the Directors panel. It’s time to give the producers some of their due.

Last night, the producer panel at the Arlington Theatre proved to be a fascinating and insightful glimpse into the inner works of what makes a film work, and find its often thorny path to the screen. Whereas the other film insider spotlights, whether actors, directors, or writers, dwell on artists in specific roles in the complex process of what makes film the collaborative medium it is, producers are more the overseers, facilitators and mediators with the studio suits and money sources. They make movies happen, on the ground level.

As usual at SBIFF, yesterday’s panel was a star-studded bunch — which is to say Oscar nomination-studded. As the loose-fit charismatic producer Cale Boyter (Dune franchise) summed up the producer role, “I love finding directors and writers with a vision so strong that I say ‘holy crap, I can’t wait to dive into that with you.’ It’s a one-plus-one equals three equation when things click.” He later added, “when you have precision and passion, it doesn’t matter what the budget is, that’s what makes it work. Beautiful things can happen.”

Making beautiful things happen, within a tight, just-past-indie film level was the running theme with certain producers onstage, including The Brutalist’s Brian Young, Alex Heineman of the potent Sean Baker-directed Anora, and the anomaly on the panel, triple threat producer-director-writer Coralie Fargeat, the creative force behind the audacious message film with gore attached, plus Demi Moore, The Substance.

Fargeat, who freely and imaginatively blended horror elements into a statement film about ageism and sexism in Hollywood, spoke about her early conversations with Moore. She had been convinced the actress would be the right choice for the role after reading her 2019 memoir Inside Out, illustrating that she was a courageous artist making “risky choices in a male-dominated industry.”

Fargeat, who alerted Moore to the importance of nudity and wild prosthetics in the film, said “she knew we were going to take her outside-the-box, but she knew it would be important.”

Despite the appearance of a hefty budget befitting the dazzling three-plus-hour epic The Brutalist, Brady was working with what turned out to be a $10 million budget for a 3.5 hour movie shot in 33 days. There oughtta’ be an Oscar for such resourceful art-making in film. He fought to respect the integrity of the project written by Bradley Corbert and Mona Fastvold, to protect what was on the page. Brady noted, “producing is problem-solving, on a daily basis. Working tightly is key, and “nothing was wasted.”

Closing out the panel, Boyter spoke of his optimism for the future of film in this precarious cultural moment, contingent on the support of young, fresh voices guiding the evolution. As a last, laugh-triggering line, he quipped “a lot of the people on this stage are going to be responsible, so don’t mess it up!”

Short Takes

To Kill a Wolf is a dark-horse American indie film cross-stitching the stories of two disparate characters — a mountain-dwelling loner eager to save wolves and other living things — and an adolescent girl adrift in the Oregon woods. Both have closeted skeletons in their past, slowly unveiled in the film’s crafty, multi-chapter character study structure. Emotional connections and mutual support build in an engaging subtle narrative.

One of the popular feelgood films this year, Rocco & Sjuul, takes an honest and humor-lined look at seventysomething love, rekindled from a formerly un-stoked youthful flame. It’s complicated, by marital situations and disapproving children and social norms, but — spoiler alert — love wins out, even at a certain age.