One of the biggest cinephile pleasures of living in Toronto these past ten years was to follow the oeuvre of local filmmaker Rebeccah Love. From Drawing Duncan Palmer (2016) all of the way through Acres (2017), A Woman’s Block (2018), Ripe (2019), Parlour Palm (2020), Eve Parade (2022) and now Fortescue (2024), Love is proving to not only be one of the most interesting Toronto filmmakers but the most interesting one, I think.
Sometimes described as the Emily Dickinson of Rosedale, Love’s work, which has resisted institutionalization, seems to be at the margins of the city’s film scene’s preoccupation as it deals with the intimate and the autobiographical, the intersection of art practices and mental illness.
All the while never staid or didactic, Love’s work, which seems instinctual through her work with actors and sensuous when it comes to cinematography, benefits from cultural influences that extend far beyond cinema, whether it is literature, painting and theatre.
(Love’s great blog Toronto Arts Report shows that she’s adept in following these developments too).
I forget what philosopher it was that brought up the distinction between the fragment and the draft or sketch, but Love’s work leans more towards the fragment. In a body of work up to now filled with six official short-films and a feature-length film, and many other more confidential films, along with more confessional writing and unrealized screenplays, photography and illustration, there is almost the quality of a sparkling jewel to everything that Love does. As if these fragments were shards of a diamond broken off a greater one – rough and brilliant –, all of the while containing a sense of wholeness and poetry that stands alone in their more modest smaller form.
(Notably in opposition to a lot of more “finished” work in the local film scene that feel more incomplete and unsubstantial which, for whatever reason, still gets so many acolytes).
On Thursday, October 24th Fortescue finally had its world premiere at the Forest City Film Festival in London, Ontario. It’s to the great honour of this festival that they rightly saw in Fortescue the merits that it holds and programmed it so well – I’ve never been to a nicer red carpet or reception for a film – and also a shame to all other national film festivals for not doing the same.
There was also something of the experience of travelling to London – almost two hours from Hamilton on a FlixBus and across a beautiful autumnal countryside – and of being in this beautiful smaller city in southwestern Ontario that contributed to appreciating Fortescue.
Love’s work always had its own temporality to it, especially in contrast to other Toronto filmmakers (that tend to emphasize the ambition of male protagonists and the business of the downtown core), as it retreats northwards and out-of-town, emphasizing experiences of stillness and contemplation, anxiety and depression.
Fortescue is set in the Haliburton cottage country and by Lake Fortescue (where it gets its name, and also from an old English idiom “Fort-Escu” meaning strong shield).
Fortescue begins with two women in their twenties, Lea (Kelsey Falconer) and Gabby (Chelsea Preston), enjoying each other and nature in this idyllic setting. One’s a playwright and the other one her friend and actress. They’re smiling, enjoying each other’s company, wearing bright clothes, happy.
And then Lea’s boyfriend and actor Kevin (Tyson Coady) arrives, though seemingly nice, a certain brashness emerges, which disrupts the harmonious relationship at the heart of this house.
A sexual tension arises, conversations start to be more confrontational (discussing privilege and past traumas), Lea starts to experience episodes of psychosis, and another visiting friend Noah (Nickolas Franco) noticing this then decides to leave. The’re all getting ready for Lea’s upcoming production of Rapunzel (that stars Gabby and Kevin), which they’ll put on for their modest community in Haliburton, that includes Ms. Banks (Jacqueline Greer Graham) from the Stratford Theatre Festival that the’re trying to impress.
There’s something about Fortescue that seems new, especially in Love’s cinema, and it’s captivating to see Love bring her themes and craft from her shorts to a full-length feature.
There’s a naturalness and troubling quality to Kelsey Falconer’s performance of a young women experiencing a mental health crisis, which is either on par or equally as interesting as Sarah Swire did in Love’s earlier shorts (and same thing for Kelsey Falconer in her representation of it).
The drama and naturalistic style, sophisticated dialogue and inner anguish of Fortescue made me think of Noah Baumbach’s films (The Squid and the Whale, Margot at the Wedding) or even, and maybe closer to us, Erik Anderson’s My Thesis Film (2018).
Two new qualities in Love’s work that I noticed was its emphasis on women sexuality and putting the perspective of the director in the film watching their own play (anxiously as it couldn’t be rehearsed).
Perhaps one of the most meaningful reflections that I had about Fortescue is that it brought to mind a quote from one of Ezra Pound’s Cantos (LXXXI), “What thou lovest well remains, the rest is dross. What thou lov’st well shall not be reft from thee. What thou lov’st well is thy true heritage.”
Fortescue is bookended by female sorority. Lea’s mental health crisis seems almost instigated by Kevin’s arrival. The utopia that exists between Lea and Gabby is interrupted with his arrival and a positive experience of mental health can only recommence once he departs.
Aside from a critique of a toxic masculinity (which I think is more nuanced and thought-provoking then it is clear-cut, and encourages engagement and conversation), what I took from Kevin and his presence is that he incarnates an external social pressure in artistic production.
Per Ezra Pound, “What thou lovest well remains, the rest is dross.”
What Lea lovest the most, well, is her friendship with Gabby, it’s where we see her the happiest, the rest is dross, Kevin.
For Love, who values and is outspoken for the need of safe spaces on productions and a healthy work environment, what is the most important are the working conditions on her productions, the friends and people there, and the relationship she has with all of these people (that extend beyond the production schedule). Per Pound, “What thou lov’st well is thy true heritage.”
(When I asked Love about making Fortescue she said it was one of the best experience of her life).
And Kevin, these external pressures, it’s a healthy attitude to reject them and not to be determined by this external validation. It only brings stress and anxiety.
Life is confusing and Love is able to shed light onto darkness when it is especially hard therefore even more necessary.
We owe it to Love to express this so beautifully.