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Maddin’s disdain mars ‘Winnipeg’

Director Guy Maddin’s My Winnipeg is an autobiographical film about a man who yearns to move away from his hometown, but lacks the impetus to do so. Though he hates Winnipeg, he doesn’t hate it enough to leave – many Houstonians can relate.

"I must leave it. I must leave it now," narrates Maddin while riding on a train at the beginning of the film, "but how to escape one’s city?" My Winnipeg attempts to answer this question, but makes little progress. It’s never quite clear whether the train Maddin is on travels away from Winnipeg or through his psyche, as My Winnipeg is a film that thoroughly obscures reality.

Maddin can’t leave until he confronts the ghosts of his past, so he decides to "film" his way out of the city by reenacting painful scenes from his childhood and exploring Winnipeg’s arcane history. In a wistful walk down memory lane, we learn about what afflicts Maddin-an overbearing mother, a "dead dead" dog, a hockey team sold to Phoenix, and so on.

We also learn a number of things about the city itself, most of which sound like urban legend or downright lies. Was the Arlington Street Bridge really originally designed for the Nile River? Was there really a television show produced in Winnipeg about a man who threatened suicide on a daily basis? Is the only hill in Winnipeg really made out of garbage? These are questions moviegoers will leave the theater asking themselves.

With all the historical topics and Maddin’s personal anecdotes, My Winnipeg vaguely resembles a documentary. It’s made up of newsreels, old photographs, home movies from the 1960s and other forms of aged media, yet the bulk of the film is comprised of newly shot footage that was rendered in postproduction to look like it came from the silent era. The effect makes it difficult to distinguish new footage from archival footage, further blurring the nebulous line between fact and fiction that Maddin is reluctant to define.

Like his preceding movie, The Saddest Music in the World, My Winnipeg employs a dreamlike aesthetic that sets Maddin apart from other contemporary directors, but after a while his cinematic voice grows tiresome and too campy. Maddin is more a stylist than a storyteller, and at times his visual techniques hinder what would otherwise be poignant moments. For a film that aims to be an introspective journey through the past, My Winnipeg isn’t all that moving.

There’s no doubt that Maddin is a visionary, but his vision isn’t for everyone. Some will feel as much disdain for this film as Maddin feels for Winnipeg. Still, in the cracks of memory, Maddin found reasons to admire his flawed hometown, and moviegoers can do the same for this film. The experience will be bittersweet.

My Winnipeg opens this weekend at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston.

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