Bringing Brazil to Toronto: An interview with the writer-director and star of Toll

Carolina Marcowicz shines at TIFF once again. Now in her sixth run in the festival, the up-and-coming Brazilian director premieres her second feature film, Toll. 

By: Mariana Schuetze

In Carolina Markowicz's latest feature film, Toll ('Pedágio'), audiences take a peak into the life of a toll booth worker in Cubatão, an industrial city near São Paulo, Brazil. Suellen (Maeve Jenkins) raises her son, Tiquinho (Kauan Alvarenga), alone and finds herself in a complicated situation as she tries to deal with the fact that her son is gay. 

Both Jenkins and Alvarenga have worked with Markowicz before. Jenkins in her debut feature, Charcoal ('Carvão'), which premiered at TIFF in 2022, and Alvarenga in one of her shorts, The Orphan ('O Órfão') (2018). 

The pair playing mother and son give award-worthy performances in Toll, doing justice to the stories of many in similar situations. Their performances assist in Markowicz's brilliant telling of the story of a mother who loves her son so much and yet doesn't understand his experience. In the film, she goes to previously unthinkable lengths to protect him in the best way she can, even if it hurts him. 

Toll, at times flirting with the absurd and satirical, brings to the big screen the lived experience of many in conservative countries such as Brazil. At one point in the story, and without giving too much away, Tiquinho is sent to conversation therapy. In those scenes, Toll establishes itself as a dramedy, with moments that will make you laugh at just how absurd it is but at the same time may disturb you to the core. 

Markowicz and the entire Toll cast and crew masterfully weave together this beautiful, yet at times, comical story without losing sight of where it's set. Brazil is an incredibly unequal country, and this absurdity is not too far away from reality. CanCulture had the opportunity to interview writer and director Carolina Markowicz and leading star Maeve Jenkins. In the interview, they discuss how the rhetoric of Brazil's last president, Jair Bolsonaro, against the queer community influenced Suellen and Tiquinho's story. 

“ I think the film’s message is one of acceptance and tolerance without romanticization. It’s showing who these people are and that they won’t change and that everyone will have to live together and understand each other.”

— Carolina Marcowicz

Our Editor-in-Chief, Mariana Schuetze, is Brazilian and conducted the interview in Brazilian Portuguese and translated it into English for the CanCulture audience. You can read the Portuguese transcription here. 

Mariana Schuetze: And how is it going? This is your second time here at TIFF, right?

Maeve Jenkins: Second time at TIFF, yeah. We had our first time here with Charcoal last year. And now with Toll.

Mariana: How cool. I was thrilled to be able to talk to you. It's really cool to see Brazil out there, putting on a show. You may have already answered this several times, but as a Brazilian, I have to ask: what is it like to be here again, bringing Brazil to Toronto and the world once again?

Carolina Marcowicz: Well, I love it here. I love this festival. This festival is incredible; besides being a festival of great importance, it also has an incredible audience. That it is wonderful, that reacts, that accompanies us. So, the Toronto festival, it's amazing here… in every way. Sometimes it's just in a professional sense, there's the importance of the festival's prestige and things like that. But beyond that, also having this [response] from the people who are watching the film here, it is very incredible. Just yesterday, at the premiere, in the Q&A, there were people asking about Charcoal. They had come to see the film last year! So this is very interesting, the force of the Canadian audience here in Toronto.

I'm here for the sixth time, I've already been here a few times. I love it here, the festival has always supported me a lot. Starting with my second short film, which was shown here. I was doing an interview for TIFF just now, and I said that was the first year they opened for International Shorts, in 2014, which was the year my animated short was shown here. After that year, I had two more short films, Long Distance Relationship (2017) and The Orphan (2018), and then Charcoal and Toll. And I was a part of the Filmmakers' Lab in 2015. So, I've been here a few times, and each time has been very incredible. 

Mariana: That's amazing! I think that for us Brazilians, this interacting audience makes all the difference. It must be really incredible.

Maeve: I feel like the festival has this audience-building thing too. Many years of the festival, and I imagine that the volunteers and the integration of audiovisual students and young directors are forming a generation of cinephiles. And you feel it in the audience, in those who attend the films, in how they respond to film, how they follow the directors, the actors. There is a passion for cinema that you can feel at the festival. It's really cool.

Mariana: What is it like bringing this specific story here? I feel like a lot of times when we talk about queer stories in cinema, most of what we see is North American. So, for me, it's really very special to see and hear these stories in Brazil and in Portuguese. What was it like for you to tell this story? What do you hope people here, in particular, take away from the film? Is it different from what you hope audiences in Brazil will take away from the film?

Carolina: What I would like people to take away from the film converges everywhere. But [in] Brazil, being a more conservative country, I think it's important for people to see this. Perhaps it portrays a more Brazilian reality. But here, in this case, it is supposed to be a window into that reality. Without wanting to spoil anything, but what happens in the [conversion therapy] program may seem absurd, there is this dramatic part of the film, which is, well, bizarre and at times comical and seems surreal. But it is not. In Brazil, it is not. But here, being a much less conservative country, with politicians who speak much less nonsense than we hear there, it might be more absurd. There are two sides to this, showing what happens there [in Brazil], portraying these people and making them see themselves in this satirical criticism that we see in the film. But I think the film's message is one of acceptance and tolerance without romanticization. It's showing who these people are and that they won't change and that everyone will have to live together and understand each other.

Maeve: I think that this degree of approximation of the absurd is different for Brazil and Canada, considering the reality of the countries. Canada has a more progressive tradition in this sense, right? But at the end of the day, I think prejudice exists to different degrees all over the world, including here. Yesterday, at the end of the film, a couple of Canadian psychoanalysts, who looked to be in their 70s, came over very excited to greet us and said: "I have to say that I found the approach and development of these characters super intelligent and realistic." Look, we're talking about a language that flirts with the absurd but he said, "Super intelligent and realistic." The woman, it was a couple, and they were both psychoanalysts, she said: "This mother and this son are constantly in my office." They were very emotional. It was really incredible talking to them.

What I mean by all of this is that, to different degrees, this conflict exists worldwide. Unfortunately, it is worldwide. But in Brazil, it is evident. I'm very excited to show it in Brazil. Well, we filmed Toll during the Bolsonaro government, a guy who said he would rather have a dead son than a gay son, among various other offences and violence. Even today, in Brazil, this conflict is very present. Right now, last week, they are trying to foot a bill to annul same-sex marriage. So, we are still under attack. The super-conservative government was defeated at the polls, but we still live the echo of that ultra-conversational period. This is very alive. So obviously, this makes me very excited to share this story with the audience. And about expectations, I confess that whenever I make a film, I internalize themes, like we're talking about this, this and this. But many layers, this intuition, will only appear; you can only take ownership of it when you watch it collectively. When you discuss the film. When you debate the film. This only happens when the film is born, when it comes into conflict with the audience. And that's completely out of our control and that fascinates me. There are things, layers, that we will only discover by putting the film out into the world.

Kauan Alvarenga plays Tiquinho in Toll, directed by Carolina Marcowicz. (Courtesy of TIFF)

“ I think the important thing is that you treat your characters with respect and without exoticizing them. And without placing yourself in a place above, or in short, on the far side. As if you weren’t part of it in that way. It’s not about wanting to show it as if it were a case study. There has to be that care. It’s a question of respect, a question of principle. It’s a question of the film itself.”

— Carolina Marcowicz

Mariana: And in relation to showing this film to different audiences, what care is needed to make a film like this? Did you take a certain amount of care when creating this film and wanting to show it to a foreign audience? As a Brazilian who lives here, I know the idea that people tend to have about Brazil, so I wanted to know if there is any idea behind the image that your film can give of our country when watched abroad.

Carolina: I think we don't want to stereotype or romanticize. There's a rawness to the film that I think is important to show. The important thing is to show things without exoticizing them. Without making people see this as if it were something from afar, as if there was some judgment here. The people are there, they live there. They live in this city, they have this financial situation. Some better, some worse. They figure things out. They live in a totally unequal society, which is Brazil. And you can't pretend that it isn't, and this generates a thousand other forms of violence. So, I think the important thing is that you treat your characters with respect and without exoticizing them. And without placing yourself in a place above, or in short, on the far side. As if you weren't part of it in that way. It's not about wanting to show it as if it were a case study. There has to be that care. It's a question of respect, a question of principle. It's a question of the film itself.

Maeve: Perfect. I agree with every word of what Carol said. And as an actress, what I try, which is always very risky, is to try to have a genuine interest in those people. In the worst and best of them. But having a genuine interest in understanding that and putting yourself in that place.

Mariana: Thank you so much for taking the time to talk to me. I don't want to keep you much longer. I was really very happy to have talked to you. I absolutely enjoyed the film, and I'm super excited to watch it again tonight in the audience.

Maeve: We'll be there tonight too! There will be a Q&A after the session!

Mariana: Oh! That's cool, I'm even more excited now. I've already invited my friend [John, one of CanCulture's Managing Editor]. I saw the film last night and told him he had to come with me again today to watch the film.

Caroline: Amazing!

Mariana: Well, thank you very much, and I hope you two have a great day!

Maeve: Thank you and see you later!

Carolina: Thank you!

CanCulture had a great time talking to Carolina Marcowicz and Maeve Jenkins about their experiences at TIFF and the creation of Toll. As a Brazilian, I can't wait for the film to come out in theatres so I can show it to my family there. 

The soundtrack of a story: Composing for film and television

Canadian film composer Tom Third speaks to CanCulture about the melodically magical nuances of being a composer 

By: Mariana Schuetze

A movie's soundtrack, whether we're actively looking out for it or subconsciously consuming it as it wallpapers the media, has the power to take us exactly where we should be. Behind almost every musical sound in a scene, there has been a discussion of where the audience should be taken by it. Should we be happy here? Sad? Is there more of the story coming? Building this roadmap and creating the pieces that move us is one of the jobs of a film and television composer. 

Tom Third is an award-winning Canadian composer. Working mostly on documentary and television scores, Third’s most recent works include BLK: An Origin Story and the fourth season of the series Coroner, both of which have earned him positive reviews, nominations and awards.

Third has always been invested in music, but his career didn’t start exactly in film scoring. He studied film and new media at The Ontario College of Art and Design, and after graduating, he was making electronic music. To make ends meet, Third started doing music for television commercials, blazing a path for himself into the industry. He moved on to working on short films and, later, longer features and television series, where he’s been since. 

Behind-the-scenes of composing

The role of a film or television composer is as dynamic as any, but the intricacies of the vocation too often go unventured.  Like any other freelance job in this industry, the work usually starts with a phone call or an email. "First thing you do is, you'll say, 'Yes, I'll do it,' then you hang up the phone, and you panic and go, 'can I really do this?'" said Third.

After that initial moment of panic, the planning and creation starts. Third says he usually has a meeting with the project's director and producers, and other creative heads, where they’ll discuss the idea for the film or show. Almost always, when a composer gets on board, there is something to look at, Third says. The next step in the process is usually watching some of the material together and beginning the idea-generation process.

"We take really specific notes about where the music's gonna go, and what it's gonna sound like. We might talk about the kinds of instruments, but we try and build kind of a roadmap of the whole thing, like a list of all the pieces of music that will be in it, which triggers a whole bunch of stuff, organizationally." 

Part of Third's job as a composer, creating original tracks for movies and television shows, is assembling a team when needed. After those initial meetings and coming up with the plan, Third will think about every piece they need to create and if they need to hire any other musicians to do it. "[We] will break it down and figure out what's going to be shot where and how do we combine things together to maximize our resources."

Third’s work also involves a back-and-forth between him and the project's creative leaders. He says that first, they'll let him go loose and "be really adventurous." That's when he'll try "a whole bunch of things," and starts figuring out what might sound best. Then, they'll put it against the moving pictures and talk about it. 

Although sometimes Third might be brought on earlier to the production, especially for films, composing usually comes in at the end. "It's a middle-to-end-ish kind of thing."

Sometimes it's even the last part of the process. "The actual mix, where they put the sound and the movie together and make it all sound great, that's very close to the last day of the film," Third tells. "When you go see Avatar at Christmas at the movie theatres, they probably did the sound mix two days before that. It's always right up to the deadline."

However stressful this tight deadline may be, there is a reason for it. Sound in movies and television is closely integrated with the picture and much of the dialogue. The timings are really precise, Third says. That’s why they usually have to wait until the end after all the reshoots and re-edits to finally add the magical touch of music and sound. 

The power of music! "Where do we want it to hit?"

Music is essential to tell a story in film and television. It's basically the heart of it, Third says. 

"Music has the magical powers, in my view, of somehow just really tapping into your brainstem and just bringing out all those emotions." 

In the end, Third's job is finely picking out which specific sound will bring out that emotion needed at every seemingly imperceptible point in a scene. 

"When I work on films, I'm given images to work with, not images in real life, but idealized images of what people experience, like the beautiful version of what that first date was like, or the best sunset I've ever seen… Then I think those idealized images, combined with music… and it just ups the ante and really makes [emotions] start to blow up," Third says. 

It's all about the feeling they want to unleash in the audience. And that's what Third's scoring will do in a project and why it's so intricately connected to the storytelling. That's where the discussion with the director and producers come in. "We talk about, like, "We want them to cry on this shot. Hey Tom, make it hit here.' and I'm like, 'Okay, let's try that.'" 

BLK: An Origin Story and Coroner

Working as a composer on an established television series versus a documentary can be slightly different. Third does both. 

For a documentary like BLK, Third says his work is more on the backseat, especially in terms of how the music integrates with the image. In this case, particularly because the production was done during COVID-19, the scheduling was a bit more complicated.  

BLK: An Origin Story is a four-part documentary series that explores untold stories of Black Canadians from the 1600s to the present. Rather than being the star, the soundtrack allows the stories to speak for themselves—and Third's work functions as a frame for the narrative.   

On the other hand, CBC's original series Coroner is a project Third has been involved with for years, so the process runs a bit more smoothly. In dramas like this show, music sometimes takes on a bigger role. 

Coroner is a procedural drama based on the best-selling series of books by M.R. Hall by the same name. The series follows a recently widowed coroner who investigates suspicious deaths in Toronto. In this series, Third's work really helps build the anticipation that comes with a mystery story and adds to the drama of the show. 

Unlike documentaries, where there usually is a lot of exposition, a drama can be conceived with music in mind, and less talking, making it all stand out.  "Sometimes, it feels like it's a little bit more poetic, in the way music can be used," Third says. 

Perks of the job

For both BLK and Coroner, Third earned nominations for this year's Canadian Screen Awards. BLK won all five awards it was nominated for, including Best Original Music, for Third's work. 

"Well, it feels it feels great. It really does. I'm not blase about it," Third says about his nominations and win. "It's a really fun honour. It's your peers. So it really does mean something."

This wasn't Third's first nomination, and he's also served on the jury of some awards too, and that's an exciting part of the job for him. "It's your friends' work, you know, that you're going to put forward. So we really take it seriously. So when you win it, the sense is that two people thought about it. It actually does mean something," he said. 

In fact, working with as many people as he has in this business is one of the reasons why Third keeps doing it. "Aside from all the music part of it, that's one of the best parts about it. And the longer I've done this, it's kind of [become] my favourite part." 

In this business, Third has found that working with compassionate and seasoned artists has been a gratifying experience. The experimenting and the constant challenging moments Third goes through while working on a project are also what keeps him motivated.  

"Why do I keep doing this job? It’s that loving relationship you have with your creative partners, where everybody is very forgiving of everyone else's missteps or experiments that didn't seem to work. And that's one of the things I think that makes it so intimate and so much fun." 

Constantly working with other creatives has another perk for Third: it allows him to grow creatively. "When I'm working on film or television projects, and there's a producer, and there's the network and all these other people involved, they're all pushing me further and further, creatively, like outside of my wheelhouse and into sort of new territory." 

It's always a new challenge, Third says. It makes the job "endlessly exciting." And as far as jobs go, making music for a living is Third’s dream. "You would do it for free, right? It's a passion project. I love to write music, I love playing music. So it's very easy to have a job where you get paid to do that."

And as for the future, Third says there are a bunch of new projects rolling in. Besides a top-secret film, which he can't really talk about, Third is also working on another documentary. "It's this pretty fantastic kind of social justice-style documentary, which is the kind I like to do best."

These jobs are going to keep Third busy well into the summer. And after that, new projects should be coming in as new opportunities for Third to stretch his creative muscles. 

"It's very fun. It's addictive. And every film is so different. Even if they're similar. They're so different. Every relationship is different. And none of the music I've written for any other film can get reused in the films I'm going to do next. Because they just do not fit."

Dreaming through music: An exclusive interview with the founder of Peach Luffe

Peach Luffe provides fans with an escape from reality through their dreamy music. CanCulture sat down with their founder to delve into their sound, dreams and experiences.

By: Teresa Valenton

Peach Luffe at CBC Music (Courtesy of Jong Lee)

What began as a solo act has now evolved into a quartet that has created a distinct sound, quickly resonating with fans everywhere.

Peach Luffe is a Toronto-based project founded by Jong Lee. Taking inspiration from genres such as city-pop, jazz, rock, classical and neo-soul, Peach Luffe transports listeners to a dreamlike space. 

Releasing two EPs to date; Shimmer in July 2020 and Bloom in November 2020, they continue to produce glistening works of art. Much of their music covers relatable themes of longing, love, and nostalgia. Soft guitar riffs and instrumentals auditorily narrate their dreamy soundscape.

Their newest single “Sunflower,” released on Nov. 19, 2021, is reminiscent of artists like Coldplay and Mac DeMarco. Lyrics relay the words “Just tell me that we’re alright,” which sums up the values Peach Luffe seek to spread through their music. 

With a classically trained violinist, metal band drummer and rock shredder, Peach Luffe blend their members’ unique experiences under one name. Though all four members come from different musical backgrounds, they all share a collective love for music. 

In an interview with CanCulture, Lee speaks on the project, musical inspirations, storytelling, and more.

CanCulture: What is the meaning behind the name Peach Luffe?

Jong Lee: It’s pronounced “Luffy,” similar to a character from “One Piece.” It’s a manga from Japan, and one of my favourites. He just has so many characteristics that I aspire to have. His dream is to become the Pirate King, and what this means for him is to be the freest person in the whole sea. That’s what I want to be, I want to be free without being tied down to certain things. A lot of the things he does show resilience and I strive to be like him. 

How did this project evolve from a solo to a quartet?

Before I was just playing music by myself, like solo music. But along the way, when I moved to Toronto four and a half years ago, people started working with me. They helped me write some songs and with mixing, producing and mastering my works. So it’s bigger than me. They came along the way and I’m just as honoured to have fun. I met one of them at an open mic the first week I was here, and the other one at Seneca College. It’s been a couple of years now, the Peach Luffe project has been around for only two [years.]

Since all the members come from different musical backgrounds, how did that impact your sound as a whole?

It wasn’t really hard at all — it was actually quite easy. Even though they’re a big part of it, they have their other things in life. Just like we all have different dreams, but at the same time, we’re in this project together.

How have your experiences moving from South Korea impacted your musical endeavours?

There’s a lot of things in Korean music that I implement in my music too. I think especially K-indie music. There are elements like jazz chords that make it sound prettier. I love that stuff, and I know Western music is a bit different. I would say how they produce, and the chords are a little bit rougher. But the Korean and Asian sounds are a little bit, I won’t say smoother, but a bit more pretty, and I like that.

Because you’ve lived in the United States, Korea, and Canada, how have those experiences shaped your music?

When I lived in the States when I was younger, I learned the violin so I was into classical music until the sixth or seventh grade. Then I discovered a rock band called Green Day on the radio. I really loved it, so I started to play the electric guitar and rock genres. Now I’m playing very soft music, I guess technically adult contemporary is the genre. Throughout my childhood, I wouldn’t say a place really shaped my playing of music, I would just say my experiences as a whole. I experience music from everywhere.

Which artists have you drawn the most inspiration from?

I really got into indie pop from Mac DeMarco, he’s this guy from B.C. I heard the song called “Salad Days,” and as soon as I heard that, I was like, “I’ve never heard anything like this.” That’s one thing that has really shaped my playing as well; the way he plays. Thanks to him, but also to [the genre of] city pop. Though I can’t [name] the city pop artists I’m listening to, I am loving the funkiness and grooviness of the genre.

What draws you to that dreamlike sound?

Dreaming is something I’ve been thinking about since I was younger. I’m always daydreaming, I’m always in my head and sometimes I don’t like to be in reality. So I like how it feels like I’m always dreaming a little bit. A little bit lucid, without the drugs, of course. My music has a lot of reverb, which is like an echo sound. That kind of sound, I think, amplifies the dreaminess of my music. I just like to escape in my own world. That’s basically it.

Where do you wish to go from here musically?

If you make every album the same sound, it just sounds boring to me. For me, I needed something different that was a little bit more intimate, acoustic and evergreen, like my EP that was inspired by me buying a $100 classical guitar from somewhere on Kijiji. I recorded everything with it, and it gave it a softer sound so that transpired.

Do you choose your instrumentals based on the themes you wish to convey?

No, I don’t try to curate it [like that]. I just go with whatever sounds I want to go for. It doesn’t have to be only acoustic or classical guitar. Whatever happens, happens, and I’m learning that feeling is more important than the technical stuff.

What stories do you most want to tell?

I’ve been researching storytelling, that’s actually something I’m very interested in now, how to tell them properly. My personal life, I feel like for me, it goes like roller-coasters. There’s always ups and downs. Whatever happens, great things will happen and in the next couple of days, I’ll go back down. But it’s a common story that I want to tell. It’s usual that you can have a life that is not linear. You can’t always grow, you’ll always fall back, fall down, and fall into your growth, and I think people need to remind themselves to be nice and not be so hard on their experiences.

Do you have anything else to say to fans about the Peach Luffe project?

I’m going to release an EP called Beyond next, in a month and a half. I went to San Jose a couple of weeks ago after I got dumped. I met someone I didn’t know and we ended up finishing an EP, music videos, and visuals. Life is very fun when it’s unexpected, I think.