When I saw the advertised premise of this book—that many world leaders are actually psychopaths—I went “Yeah! Politicians suck! Rich CEOs suck!” It would be a book for the 99-percenter in all of us.

(I was reminded of a speech that the CEO gave in the office at a previous job. Bizarrely, the employees were crammed into the elevator lobby because we had no meeting rooms large enough to hold us all. The CEO was giving his inspirational forecast for the company:

“In five years, we’ll be the market leader. And our competitors… they’ll be working at Dunkin’ Donuts! BWAHAHAHA!!”

A handful of high-ranking execs managed some forced laughter, but most of us had no response except to look around at each other in shock. I thought to myself, “Yeah, this guy’s a psychopath.”)

When I started reading the book, I was expecting a direct, focussed attack on the rich and powerful, which by the end would have me marching into my CEO’s office, with an outraged mob rallying behind me.

To my surprise, Ronson pretty much abandons his thesis halfway, after interviewing Al Dunlap, a disgraced CEO. The evidence wasn’t strong enough to declare Dunlap a psychopath. At this point, I could see that Ronson was struggling to keep his book on track. The point that he was trying to make had basically fallen apart.

To his credit, Ronson manages to recover. He changes gears, and looks into how our culture is fascinated by madness. A reality show producer that he interviews says that there’s a certain type of crazy that we enjoy watching, because it makes us feel happy to be normal. (If only there was a word to express the feeling of taking pleasure in someone else’s misfortune…)

I think some readers will call this a cop-out, but I liked how he rebounds from his failed quest by questioning his motives for undertaking the quest in the first place. The fact that he wanted to uncover hidden psychopaths means that he’s part of the madness industry.

Entertainment, such as reality shows and books about psychopathic world leaders, is one side of the madness industry, but Ronson also covers a more serious side: overdiagnosis of mental illness and overprescription of drugs.

By ending on that note, I think Ronson is making a profound point: that the true madness in the world is seeing madness where it doesn’t exist.

Joshua Foer writes a compelling account of his experiences in memory competition. The memory techniques that he describes are so simple that “anyone can do it,” but it takes a certain type of personality to commit that much effort and time to practicing those techniques. And indeed, the other competitors that he meets along the way are a little bit eccentric.

I enjoyed the variety of topics that Foer weaves into his story. It felt like reading a mashup of non-fiction genres: science, history, psychology, biography. Particularly interesting to me was the chapter on how the modern education system has shunned memorization. The common opinion is that rote memorization as a learning method is rigid and soul-sucking and that broader understanding is more important that knowing the facts themselves. Foer introduces an inner-city teacher who does teach his students to memorize facts, because in his view, understanding can’t occur without knowing the facts in the first place. I always enjoy opinions that are counter to the norm, so this was a high point of the book for me.

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I’ve spent most of my life at the intersection of Eastern and Western cultures. When I stumbled upon this book, it made me wonder where I stood. Would my way of thinking match up with one side or the other?

One of the book’s main points is that Eastern cultures value interdependence over independence; that is, people are seen as part of a group. Western cultures, on the other hand, are more individualistic; success is measured by personal achievement.

Coincidentally, not long after I finished the book, I had a conversation with my grandma that perfectly illustrates this point. We were talking about work, and I mentioned how my company might be moving offices soon. My Cantonese language skills aren’t the best, so sometimes there’s miscommunication when I speak to my grandma; she thought I had said that I was changing jobs. When I cleared up the misunderstanding, she seemed relieved.

She said that it’s not right to change jobs, because you’ve formed attachments to the people there and it would be hard to leave. This is not something that I’m used to hearing; often, I get advice that changing jobs will help you get ahead and will be good for your career. I might have been confused by my grandma’s words, but seen in the light of what I had just read in the book, it made perfect sense.

For her, work is about being part of a group, one that is not easy to separate yourself from. According to Nisbett, this is classic Eastern philosophy. The opposing viewpoint—that changing jobs is a positive move—is more in line with Western thought because it encourages individual growth.

I wasn’t aware that this was a cultural difference, but I know that whenever I imagine myself changing jobs, I always feel conflicted about the idea. On the one hand, there is a sense of guilt that I would be abandoning my team and letting them down. On the other hand, I tell myself that it’s a case of misplaced loyalty: it’s not personal, it’s just business.

I think these two parts of my thought process directly correspond to East and West. Having been exposed to both sides for most of my life, I’m not always aware of where that line is. Now that I’ve read this book, I think I’ll be better able to understand where my instincts come from, and be better able to choose from the best of both worlds.

Before reading this book, I had been aware of the ideas of cognitive dissonance and self-justification, having encountered them in some day-to-day personal interactions, mostly related to money. (“X is good, and I want it, but I don’t want to spend so much money on X… therefore, X is no good and I don’t want it!”)

This book studies dissonance in larger real-world situations where the stakes are much higher. Through examples about corrupt politicians, false memories, police interrogations, and others, we see how powerful a force cognitive dissonance can be. The more wrong you are about something, the harder you’ll try to convince yourself that you’re not wrong. This leads to decisions that can harm many people.

This was an enlightening read, but disturbing at the same time. I came away from it with a hopeless feeling. There don’t seem to be any solutions for the problem other than people realizing and admitting to their mistakes, but if self-justification is so ingrained in our minds, how would this actually happen? I don’t know.

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15. Ten Year

It had some good laughs and an impressive cast, but the story is quite predictable, and it really strains believability that so many attractive people would be in the same high school class. Especially in a small town. No offense to people who live in small towns.

14. Trishna

The improvised dialogue was a little awkward at times. Also, the title character is too passive; she goes through most of the movie just saying “OK,” and “Yes, sir.” The director said that her passivity was intentional; be that as it may, it’s frustrating to watch. The cinematography is beautiful, and shows India in a very realistic way.

13. I’m Carolyn Parker: The Good, the Mad, and the Beautiful

This documentary really makes you feel the effects of Hurricane Katrina, not just in the immediate aftermath, but for several years afterwards, all the way up to now. It might have made for a depressing film, but Carolyn Parker has a big personality and it’s just fun to watch and listen to her talk.

12. The Sword Identity

The key to enjoying this martial arts movie is suspension of disbelief. In this world, people can easily knocked unconscious by a single blow, and it’s possible to fight off waves of attackers by hiding behind a curtain. It’s not your typical kung fu movie in that it doesn’t focus on the fights and the choreography. The fight scenes are over in a flash and some of them even happen off-screen. It’s really about what the fights mean to the characters; all of them have strong ideals about honour and justice, and that’s what lifts the film above the ridiculousness of the action.

11. Machine Gun Preacher

As a non-religious person, I had a bit of trouble getting excited about the main character’s initial transformation from ex-con to preacher. I can’t fault the film for that if it’s true to the real-life story; it’s just not something I can identify with. It’s not a problem once he starts fighting for African orphans because religion is pretty much out of the picture in those situations. Gerard “Tonight We Dine in Hell” Butler gives an intense performance, but I wish he had done it all in his native Scottish accent, authenticity be damned.

TIFF is over and I’m only now starting to process all the films I saw. Over the next week or so, I’ll count down the movies that I saw, and give a short review of each one.

So, let’s start at the bottom of the list. Except for the two worst entries, even this lowest stratum of films held my interest and gave me something to think about. I’m just open-minded that way.

-. The Story of Film: An Odyssey

I’m not including this in the ranking because I didn’t see the whole thing, and it’s not really a movie. It’s a 15-hour documentary, more like a miniseries than a feature. They were showing it in segments, and it was free, so I decided to pop in on the last day. It’s not hard to describe: imagine watching short scenes from many films, while a guy with a cool Irish accent describes what’s interesting about each one, and why it’s significant in the history of cinema. I got so hooked that I skipped another film, and stayed until the end of this one. I might watch the rest of it on DVD one day.

19. The Moth Diaries

Just because the word “Diaries” is in the title, doesn’t mean you can constantly rely on diary voiceovers to advance the plot. At one point, the main character writes in her diary, “That girl is weird, she must be a vampire!” and we’re supposed to go along with it completely. It would have been far more effective to leave some doubt for the audience, and drop some hints along the way instead of telling us outright what the main character is thinking.

18. Mr. Tree

My biggest problem with this film is that the title character’s quirky stupidity is inconsistent. In some moments, he seems to be mentally disabled, and in others, he’s writing extremely poetic text messages. On top of that, the main conflict of the story doesn’t really kick in until 15-20 minutes before the end, so it really drags on in the middle.

17. Among Us

I think this is a film that tries to replace drama with structure. It shows the story three times from the perspective of different characters, and it keeps you guessing because each viewpoint is incomplete. However, while watching it, my mind started to mentally re-edit the film in chronological order. If seen in that order, I think it would be clear that nothing really compelling actually happens.

16. The Loneliest Planet

I liked the idea behind this film, which is basically about how one event can change a relationship. The event occurs near the half-way point, which divides the movie into “before” and “after” halves. The crucial moment is depicted really well. However, the film is two hours long; I think a 90-minute runtime have sufficed to tell the story. Also, Gael Garcia Bernal (man crush?) doesn’t get to do much except for walking and looking sad.

Girlfriend

The story follows a man with Down’s syndrome living in a small town. The actor had good screen presence and was quite funny in many of the scenes; it’s not often you see a developmentally challenged person in a lead role in a film, so I appreciated his efforts. Because I’m not used to seeing a character like this, it kept the movie interesting in what would otherwise be a somewhat standard soap opera plot. The ending was controversial because of the actions of the titular girlfriend that our protagonist is romantically pursuing. I know it was controversial because it prompted perhaps the silliest audience question I’ve ever heard in a director Q&A session: “Why did it end like that?“

3 out of 5

Fire of Conscience

Hong Kong action movie in the vein of John Woo’s classics. While not as over the top as Woo’s films, it still had some decent shoot-out scenes and an engaging detective story. The highlight was a totally random childbirth sequence in the midst of explosions and fire. The experience was also made more entertaining by the man sitting in our row who would bust out in raucous laughter whenever grenades appeared on screen. Apparently an aficionado of grenade-related humour.

2.5 out of 5

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And that’s it until next year.