Most of Guy Maddin’s films have been at least modestly self-referential. But Maddin never tipped quite so far in the direction of autobiography as with My Winnipeg, and the effect is unexpectedly charming. Finally, a movie that’s actually about the inside of Guy Maddin’s perverse little brain!
My Winnipeg is framed by the narrator—named Guy (Darcy Fehr), naturally—as a recitation of the history of a city, a sort of emotional exorcism conducted before leaving the place behind. But this history is so idiosyncratic and personal that you're soon convinced that Guy can never leave his hometown—assuming such a place even exists outside his head. The civic and personal milestones Guy recounts are colorful, bizarre, and often dubious. The facts are as embellished as Maddin’s style is hyperventilated, and it works brilliantly.