A Vampire Librarian, Singing Crooks, and Sigourney Weaver as a Lovable Alcoholic at The Toronto International Film Festival

In Justine Bateman’s directorial debut, the eponymous Violet (Olivia Munn) has all of inner thoughts written out on the screen in script. Can anyone read script any more?

“We have a tendency to judge others according to ourselves,” Jean Cocteau noted in The Art of Cinema. And accordingly, films fare no better.

But after viewing a smattering of the 132 features showcased at the 46th Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF), I found I was often judging myself as the end credits rolled.

Offerings such as Justine Bateman’s fascinating directorial debut, Violet, packs the power of five years of therapy into its 92 minutes. Believe me! After being exposed to Olivia Munn’s raw performance as a fear-based decision-making Hollywood exec, you, too, will never again listen to the naysaying voices in your head telling you you’re a mess, especially if they’re vexingly voiced by Justin Theroux. (Just get past the first half hour.)

Clearly, this, the 46th edition of one of the more prestigious film festivals on the annual circuit, has once again defended its reputation mightily, at least with the many of 17 films I screened.

Roman Griffin Davis of “Jojo Rabbit” fame is being battered by life once again, this time in Camille Griffin’s “Silent Night,” which boasts one of the best endings of the year.