TIFF Review: Mile End Kicks Tracks a Canadian Music Critic's Journey of Self-Discovery

      There’s a reason why Alanis Morissette’s Jagged Little Pill resonates with Grace Pine (Barbie Ferreira). It’s the same reason her pitch charms a publisher into granting her an advance and a contract to write a 33 1/3 book on the topic: the feminist anger; the raw honesty; and the fact that society was willing to pay millions to hear a woman reveal her innermost feelings. It holds a therapeutic quality and offers inspiration. So what’s stopping Grace from achieving that same level of success as a budding music critic in Toronto with her authentic voice and exceptional taste? The exhilarating rush answers: “Nothing!” But the harsh return to reality brings the sobering truth: herself.

      This isn’t to say that the patriarchy doesn’t play a role, represented by an indifferent boss (Jay Baruchel’s Jeff), pedantic colleagues, and a self-important new wave of rock musicians who flee as soon as she brings up her book’s subject. Writer-director Chandler Levack keeps them accountable by placing obstacles in Grace's path to her coming-of-age revelation. She doesn't let her main character off the hook either. There is an appeal to the situations that Grace gets caught up in. To live the trendy lifestyle of a rock star? To have men genuinely consider her expertise and achieve success? But at what price?

      Mile End Kicks offers Grace an opportunity to pursue her dream by packing her bags and moving to Montreal without a safety net. This city serves as the center of Canadian music—the very heartbeat of everything fresh, underground, and worth exploring. It’s the ideal setting for her to delve into Morissette’s psyche and, by extension, her own, to reflect on the personal impact of that album. However, what Grace doesn’t foresee is that transitioning from her parents' home and circles of bearded men debating trivial bands to “the scene” presents a steep learning curve. The distractions heading her way are designed to sidetrack even the most dedicated of artists.

      It all begins with an invitation. Grace’s summer flatmate Madeleine (Juliette Gariépy) and her boyfriend Hugo (Robert Naylor) are set to perform at a loft party that evening. She’ll be DJing between acts, and his band Bone Party is the headliner. Grace declines the invite—her deadline is approaching fast, and she “doesn’t, like, do drugs”—but a mix of procrastination and fear of missing out gets the better of her, even as she dreads discovering that the music might be too awful to face them with the truth. To her surprise, they turn out to be quite good, despite their tendency to reject familiar influences in favor of an aloof style.

      And it works. At least for lead singer Chevy (Stanley Simons). He exudes an irresistible sex appeal that Grace finds herself unable to resist, even though Madeleine warns her that he’s the worst person in Montreal. She’s ready to tick off #4 on her summer to-do list (have real sex) the moment he begins to sing. She’s not averse to getting involved with lead guitarist Archie (Devon Bostick) either. She’s drawn to his honesty and sense of humor—he may not hold a candle to Chevy’s allure, but he’s a suitable option who could become a loyal friend. That leaves their bassist Jesse (I Like Movies star Isaiah Lehtinen) to haul everything back to the van alone.

      Herein lies the dilemma: is Bone Party genuinely that good, or is Grace’s attraction to two of its members clouding her usually sound judgment? Unfortunately, the reality soon reveals that the distinction is irrelevant—she plans to leverage their potential legitimacy to get closer to Chevy and the chance of a romantic encounter, all while undermining her own ambitions in the process. We know it’s a terrible idea—he’s an incredibly self-serving conman who thinks only of himself—but we begin to wonder if Grace might not share some of those traits. After all, she’s taking advantage of Madeleine’s kindness and Archie’s interest to pursue Chevy.

      The narrative nearly halts as Grace falls into the same trap she encountered with Jeff, giving her talent away for free to men who don’t merit it. She became his workhorse for a year, accepting every assignment he sent her regardless of its relevance to music, and has yet to process her invoice (not to mention other egregious behavior still to be revealed). Now, she’s volunteering to be Bone Party’s unofficial publicist by arranging interviews with reputable magazines, creating their marketing content, and even putting up posters. Grace aims to unleash her inner badass but ends up supporting another ungrateful man.

      The progression is skillfully scripted: Levack creatively lets the character believe she’s acting on her own accord while ensuring the audience is aware of Chevy’s manipulations. (The sex scenes are so painfully awkward with Chevy’s narcissism distracting him mid