At the far-flung edge of Canada’s boreal forest, outside the tiny sub-Arctic town of Dawson City, Yukon, a handful of unlikely farmers are growing everything from snow-covered Brussels sprouts to apples.
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One of the most powerful films I’ve ever seen is Donald Brittain’s Fields of Sacrifice, a documentary he made in 1963 about the Canadian soldiers who were killed during the two world wars.
Angelina McLeod returns to the Shoal Lake 40 First Nation to participate in a momentous collective action.
The Procession is the first collaboration between illustrator and graphic novel writer Pascal Blanchet and animator and filmmaker Rodolphe Saint-Gelais.
ImagineNATIVE is turning 20 this year and the NFB, a long-time friend of the festival, is heading to the anniversary edition with nine projects — a slate that includes four world premieres.
Margot Kidder's first film, The Best Damn Fiddler From Calabogie to Kaladar, a one-hour drama, was made at the National Film Board of Canada.
When asked about her creative process, Alanis Obomsawin, the renowned Abenaki filmmaker, always says that first she listens—without a camera in the room—to people share their stories
The Gesher Multicultural Film Fund, the Makor Foundation for Israeli Films, the Haifa International Film Festival, the Canada Media Fund, the National Film Board of Canada, Hub Montréal and Xn Québec are proud to introduce the twelve candidates who will participate in New Identities, a series of workshops designed to foster conversations about identity and push the limits of new forms of narration.
On June 24, 1964, filmmaker Gilles Groulx was in a recording studio in New Jersey with John Coltrane, recording the music for The Cat in the Bag.
Here’s a look back at one of Quebec cinema’s cult films, Gilles Groulx’s Le chat dans le sac (The Cat in the Bag), just in time for the release of previously unissued recordings by John Coltrane that appear on the film’s soundtrack.
In a world overwhelmed with stimuli and fast-paced entertainment, what could a short black-and-white documentary from the 1960s on skateboarding possibly have to offer? Everything.
In some ways, The Physics of Sorrow is a culmination of Theodore Ushev’s work to date. It’s an epic, pained and deeply personal musing on the wounds of a generation of people in exile—not from their homeland but from themselves.