Film review: Oh, Canada

Self-reflection is almost always on the cards for veteran writer and director Paul Schrader, who has returned with his first feature since his thematically linked ‘Man in a Room’ trilogy; a trio of tales which boldly explored redemption through lost souls living in solitude. In his latest drama Oh, Canada, the room is crowded and the man is Leonard Fife (Richard Gere), a dying documentary filmmaker turned professor who has agreed to sit for an interview about his illustrious life and career. Based on the 2021 novel Foregone by Russell Banks, the plot sees the acclaimed creative revisit his checkered past as his wife Emma (Uma Thurman) and former students Malcolm (Michael Imperioli) and Diana (Victoria Hill) watch on.

In the beginning, scenes are cast in a hue of warm oranges and rich brown shades as our protagonist is led by wheelchair to his mark. This glow rings true for a decorated and beloved individual who arrived in Canada after dodging the military draft in the US ahead of the Vietnam War. In flashbacks, a much younger and more charismatic Leonard, or ‘Leo’ as he is known, is portrayed by Jacob Elordi. These sequences have a very different aesthetic, sometimes shot in black and white, and as unflattering truths come to light about Leo’s actions, the tones shift again. Schrader plays with memories through the film’s visual style to illustrate the evolving perception of Leo – this approach is effective in places, but also makes for quite a muddled narrative. The reliability of the narrator himself is unclear – in one particularly surreal moment Gere switches with Elordi to share the screen with his twenty-something first wife – these questionable storytelling decisions bring an uncertainty which somewhat strips away the authenticity of his confessional.

Having worked together on American Gigolo back in 1980, this collaboration marks a long-awaited reunion between director Schrader and his leading actor Richard Gere. His nuanced and quietly compelling performance makes the experience worthwhile, conjuring deep feelings of guilt and regret which builds a cloud of melancholy that hangs over this morbid picture. Despite Oh, Canada being an adaptation of another man’s work which tells another man’s story, it feels as if Schrader is exorcising personal demons from behind the lens, deep into the winter of his own career.