Serville Poblete’s Sunburn was the most visually stunning Canadian film that I saw at TIFF ’26. Sweaty, colourful and bursting with life, it captures Toronto in a way Canadian cinema rarely does: not simply as a location, but as a place with its own personality, rhythm and culture.
Set during a power outage on one unbearably hot day in St. James Town, Sunburn barely needs a conventional plot. Poblete instead lets us hang out with these young people as they wander through parks, rooftops and concrete corridors, talking about crushes, friendships, leaving home and the terrifying realization that childhood doesn’t last forever.
It is also hilarious. Joshua Obra and Dashawn Blackwood are fantastic as Shay and Vince, possessing the effortless chemistry of two friends who have spent years learning exactly how to annoy each other. The entire young ensemble feels remarkably natural, giving the film the spontaneity of overheard conversations rather than scripted dialogue.
But visually, Sunburn is something special. Poblete transforms St. James Town’s imposing concrete towers into something dreamy and almost romantic. The saturated colours, shimmering heat and playful camerawork capture the strange magic of a summer day when you are young and have nowhere particularly important to be. Combined with Aaron Paris’ sweeping score and a terrific soundtrack, ordinary moments- water fights, fireworks, riding bikes, sitting around talking – suddenly feel enormous.
That is ultimately the beauty of Sunburn. Beneath its breezy hangout-movie exterior is a moving story about community, belonging and that fleeting moment when adolescence begins slipping away.
Sunburn feels like Toronto. More importantly, it feels like somebody loves Toronto.
