I Love You Daddy, TIFF review: Louis CK's 'secret' film is a meandering standout

Dir: Louis C.K., 120 mins, starring Louis C.K., Chloë Grace Moretz, Charlie Day, Edie Falco

So fervent is social media these days that it’s virtually impossible to watch a film without knowing anything about it, the flurry of every new trailer - laden with spoilers - unwittingly diminishing its surprises. Only last year did two ‘secret’ films wave its fingers in the face of an obstinate Hollywood by essentially appearing out of nowhere (10 Cloverfield Lane and Blair Witch) and now another such film has manifested; not a money-making horror sequel, however, but I Love You, Daddy - a black-and-white 35mm ode to parenthood from revered comedian Louis C.K..

Made on a shoestring budget amassed from the money you gave him buying web series Horace and Pete, one-man bandwagon C.K. serves as I Love You, Daddy’s writer, director, star, editor and producer. He plays Glen Topher, a successful TV writer under pressure to pen another hit from his weary production manager (Edie Falco), a small worry next to the burgeoning friendship between his 17-year-old daughter China (Chloë Grace Moretz) and John Malkovich’s elder film director with a self-confessed interest in young girls. Other characters flitting into Glen's life are his foul-mouthed ex-wife (Helen Hunt) and girlfriend (Pamela Adlon) as well as ebullient best pal Ralph (It’s Always Sunny’s Charlie Day swapping Philadelphia for New York).

As ever, C.K. here draws upon what he knows most about - insecurity in his artistry, pissing off every woman he comes into contact with - and as a starting point, it works. The embellishment of these situations is when the film flies with C.K’s wry concern shining no more than in the scenes opposite his scantily-clad daughter who spends her days holed up in his penthouse. “I love you, daddy,” she coos after requesting to borrow his private jet to go to Florida for the weekend. A teenage daughter telling her father she loves him? He must be doing something wrong, Adlon's ex-girlfriend tells him with C.K. deploying dejected bewilderment - his unofficial trademark - in several standout scenes (boy, are there many).

C.K. is a figure whose personal life has been scrutinised no more than by himself on stage at his own comedy shows and he hasn’t stopped with I Love You, Daddy. One particular scene sees Glen reproaching a pregnant Hollywood actress (Rose Byrne) he’s considering for a lead role in his forthcoming new series about nurses (“What the hell do you know about nurses?” Falco barks incredulously in an early scene which could be its greatest). She brings up his past as an adulterer, a tortured Glen arguing about her failing to know the facts - a potential nod to the allegations C.K. himself has faced in the past. That the same scene sees him making similar judgements about Malkovich’s character thankfully keeps the film from slipping into self-knowing reproach.

I Love You, Daddy isn’t designed to turn non-committal folk into C.K. fans but his unstructured, often meandering artistry - an honest riff on Woody Allen - is a present breath of fresh air.