TIFF ’02: The Sweatbox

**/****
directed by John-Paul Davidson & Trudie Styler

by Bill Chambers The makers of The Sweatbox–Trudie Styler (Mrs. Sting) and documentarian John-Paul Davidson–were granted unprecedented access behind the Iron Curtain of Walt Disney during the production of The Emperor's New Groove because Styler's husband was the studio's pop-star composer du jour. The results may embarrass Disney by catching them free of spin a time or two, but the movie doesn't seem to want to demythologize the Mouse House as a matter of course. (When it was over, audience members at my press screening could be heard to ask if the film had been sanctioned by Disney; British indie Xingu Films is the real culprit.) Originally hired to write and perform a song score for an Incan tale spun from "The Prince and the Pauper" called Kingdom of the Sun, Sting miraculously doesn't jump ship when the picture undergoes a conceptual overhaul so severe it drives The Lion King's Roger Allers out of the director's chair (and likely onto a therapist's couch). The titular "sweatbox" is the nickname for Disney's private screening room, which is more pressure-cooker than movie theatre, since that's where rough cuts are shown to executives looking to justify their salaries; Sting doesn't actually step foot inside the sweatbox himself, and that sort of sums up the proceedings: It never really has anything to lose. The film is sufficiently interesting when Sting, a serious artist at the mercy of commercial whim, becomes disillusioned with the production as it changes hands and genres, but he adapts, and The Sweatbox reveals that its true aim is to celebrate a certain can-do spirit. All told, it's not much more controversial or edifying than your average DVD featurette, though don't be surprised if Disney suppresses it anyway. PROGRAM: REAL TO REEL