Month: January 2019

Sergeant York (1941)

Sergeant York (1941)

(On Cable TV, January 2019) Not having seen all of Howard Hawks’ filmography, I’m not entirely qualified to say that he’s never made a bad movie, but Sergeant York is a powerful argument that he’s made at least one average one. This is from a contemporary perspective, of course: Back in 1941, Sergeant York was the perfect combination of a veteran director, a superstar actor and the story of a famous WW1 hero. The titular Alvin York was (and remains) a legend in American military history—a rural God-fearing boy who became a soldier reluctantly, but ended the war with an impressive marksmanship record and the Medal of Honor. The film does dive into the duality of York’s character as being both very religious and a terrifying marksman, but does end up chalking it up to divine intervention. That played by gangbusters back in 1941, but from a contemporary perspective this is squarely a propaganda film: the values espoused here happen to be the perfect values to convince a generation of boys to enlist in the looming WW2—humility, obedience, marksmanship and as few moral qualms about killing as many enemies as possible even if you have to go through impressive rationalizations to keep both your bible and your rifle. Gary Cooper is up to his usual all-American bland self: solid without taking up much of the spotlight, an ideal model for the impressionable audience. There are many, many intriguing points of comparison between Sergeant York and the 2014 American Sniper if anyone cares to look. It doesn’t help the film’s blunt-edged persuasive intent that it feels very long, especially—surprisingly!—toward the end when everything should be wrapping up. It’s easy to see why the film was a smash hit upon release, but it has aged far less gracefully than many of its contemporaries, especially for non-American audiences. If Sergeant York still works today, it’s largely because of Hawks’ skills and Cooper’s charisma.

Insidious: The Last Key (2018)

Insidious: The Last Key (2018)

(On Cable TV, January 2019) There’s something almost endearing in the way that the Insidious horror franchise has doubled upon itself to focus on a character played by an elderly woman. Once again in Insidious: The Last Key, Lin Shaye truly stars in as a psychic medium in this prequel instalment showing us a previous big case, one with very personal implications in the grand tradition of horror series making sure that every single detail of its mythology has been cross-referenced against their character’s biography. By the end, it all leads straight back to the first film of the series like clockwork, because these are movies rather than TV show episodes, right? If you sense dripping sarcasm, it’s largely because this Insidious feels like the series has grown content to simply going over the same familiar landmarks once more. We’re filling smaller and smaller holes in a backstory that didn’t need any backfilling, and it’s become more claustrophobic than entertaining. Under director Adam Robitel, the scares are strictly routine, and the story’s few highlights aren’t enough to push back the impression of encroaching deja vu. Shaye remains a highlight, and there are some good moments in the interactions that she has with her two sidekicks … but the point of the movie is having another hit of what worked so well in the first film of the series no matter if it becomes steadily less impressive. Let the series go, producers. It’s run its course.

King of New York (1990)

King of New York (1990)

(On Cable TV, January 2019) Anyone wondering if there’s a movie with 1990-vintage Christopher Walken as a kingpin in nighttime New York City can rest easy, because King of New York exists. It may even be a good movie: under the stylish glare of director Abel Ferrara, this is a film chiefly concerned about style over substance, going through familiar plot points with some messy energy. Walken is reliably terrific here, playing a crime lord fresh out of prison with ambitions that may not survive long in the city he’s coming back to. Almost immediately, rival criminals and the police have him in their sight, and it can be difficult to distinguish the illegal tactics between both sides of the law. The protagonist here is painted in a tragic light, a victim of circumstances who “never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it”, seeking redemption yet too noble (or something) to survive in the harsher Manhattan that evolved while he was behind bars. The mythologization of the character living large and indulging in hedonistic excesses may account for much of King of New York’s enduring popularity as a crime classic of its era, but a bit of perspective shows the limits of Ferrara’s approach. The film isn’t as profound as it seems to be, for instance, and the ending drags on far too long after an intermittently interesting plot progression. There’s a lot of posing here and while that may help build the film’s pretension, it falls apart more readily the moment you don’t believe in the style without the substance. Walken has the benefit of being supported by a cast that includes early appearances by many name actors not yet having fully defined personas, including Laurence Fishburne, David Caruso, Steve Buscemi and Wesley Snipes. King of New York is not unpleasant to watch on a pure style and attitude level, but it’s certainly uneven, and can become annoying if you don’t buy into the whole gangsters-as-heroes nonsense.

Plein Soleil [Purple Noon] (1960)

Plein Soleil [Purple Noon] (1960)

(In French, On TV, January 2019) I don’t have a lot to say about Plein Soleil, largely because what it does was re-done much better in the 1999 film The Talented M. Ripley. Indeed, this is the first, lesser-known adaptation of the Patricia Highsmith character, featuring none other than Alain Delon as a serial impersonator/murderer motivated by nothing much more than personal gain and a complete absence of moral principles. There aren’t that many surprises here for fans of the 1999 film … in fact, it may even be a bit boring, in addition to being much technically rougher around the edges. In keeping with its Mediterranean setting, though, it’s clearly not meant to be a fast-paced thriller nor comfort to those who expect the villain to be punished. This being said, Plein Soleil does have the advantages of its production date—the 1960s atmosphere has become a great period piece today, especially given how much of the film takes place outdoors with scenery far more difficult to re-create today. It may not be a surprise, but anyone going back to this first incarnation may find that the result has some charm of its own.

Working Girl (1988)

Working Girl (1988)

(On Cable TV, January 2019) Now there’s a strong contender for the title of the most 1980s movie ever. Working Girl came at a time when Hollywood seemingly couldn’t get enough of Manhattan’s Wall Street ambience, in between Wall Street and The Secret of my Success and Baby Boom and many others released in barely a three-year span. Unlike many of those, however, Work Girl clearly has (from its title onward) a clear idea that it wants to talk about class issues in the United States, especially when the Manhattan office environment can be used to put the very poor right alongside the very rich. Director Mike Nichols approaches the topic with two ideal actresses at each pole of the story: Melanie Griffith as the heroic low-class girl whose smarts exceed those around her, and Sigourney Weaver as her high-class, low-morals opposite. The opponents having been defined, the rest is up for grabs: the job, the prestige, even the boy-toy (Harrison Ford, good but not ideal—the role is funnier than he is) will be given to the winner. Good performances abound, with some surprising names (Joan Cusack! Alec Baldwin? Oliver Platt!! Kevin Spacey as a lecherous pervert?!) along the way. Still, this is Griffith and Weaver’s show. Only one of them shows up in lingerie, though. Now, Working Girl is not a perfect film—it does use a few shortcuts on the way to a sappy romantic conclusion, and it bothered me more than it should that the characters would assign so much importance to the idea as having value—in the real world, execution is far more important, but it doesn’t dramatize so well. Still, that doesn’t take much away from Working Girl as class conflict playing out in late-1980s Manhattan. It’s not a complicated film, but it is very well crafted. (One more thing: Weaver’s character’s name had me thinking of evil Katharine Hepburn, which led me to think about how the two women looked like each other, which had me thinking about how they could have switched many roles, which had me thinking about Katharine Hepburn as Ripley in Aliens. Hollywood, if you’re listening, I know you have the CGI and lack of morals to make this happen.)

Much Ado about Nothing (1993)

Much Ado about Nothing (1993)

(In French, On TV, January 2019) As I’ve mentioned before, I do have one significant failing as a reviewer for some movies: As a Francophone, Shakespearian English (especially when heard rather than read) breaks my brain. Short bursts of it are fine, but I usually can’t maintain my focus very long on classical English, and it eventually exhausts me. This is why you’re unlikely to find very detailed or meaningful reviews of Shakespearian adaptations unless they update the language or offer a strong visual element to go with the dialogue. Or so I thought before doing something very unusual and watching a French-dubbed version of Kenneth Branagh’s adaptation of Much Ado about Nothing. (When it comes to dubs, I’m an original-version purist.) Suddenly, the language is simply delicious to listen to; the lines are funnier, and I can enjoy it to the end. Of course, it helps that the play, and its filmed adaptation, ranks among the frothiest and funniest of the Bard’s plays. It takes place in a gorgeous Italian estate, where Emma Thompson is cute, a young Kate Beckinsale is cute—in fact, everyone is cute. It’s amusing to see actors such as Michael Keaton, Denzel Washington and Keanu Reeves go for classical comedy, and that makes it even funnier in turn. The cinematography is good, the directing is clearly focused on the actors, and the soliloquies—even in dubbed French—are very well done. I’m not enough of a scholar to determine if the French dialogues are original to this adaptation or rely on an older canonical translation (and this is not the kind of information easily obtained), but I suspect that they are original to this dub and they sound good. If I sound unusually enthusiastic about Much Ado about Nothing, it’s largely because it challenges my presumption that Shakespeare is hermetic. I had a good time watching it, and that exceeded all of my expectations.

The Nun’s Story (1959)

The Nun’s Story (1959)

(On Cable TV, January 2019) The premise of The Nun’s Story doesn’t sound like a good mix: Audrey Hepburn playing a noviciate nun? Her better-known screen roles aren’t anywhere near that type of character, and yet she successfully delivered an intense dramatic performance here, solidifying her ingénue superstar status with several accolades for her acting talent. Coming almost exactly in the middle of her film career, some have called the movie Hepburn’s finest dramatic performance, and that sounds about right even if you think that comic performances are often more challenging. At first, The Nun’s Story does feel like a wandering procedural about the life of a noviciate, going through the somewhat dull process of the apprenticeship required for a young woman to take her vows. For a rather long time, the film navigates a fine line between being boring and interesting, as it doesn’t hurry through its protagonist’s apprenticeship even after taking her vows. But The Nun’s Story does become far more interesting—and relevant to Hepburn’s life—once the last act rolls around and suddenly the Nazis invade the movie. That’s the point when we can understand Hepburn’s interest for the role (after all, she did serve in the Dutch Resistance as a teenager), and the film becomes far more interesting in opposing obedience versus the moral imperative to resist the occupation. The conclusion feels very appropriate to the character. The direction and cinematography could have been a bit stronger, but even in their current state they do carry the film to a satisfying conclusion. Anyone who feels restless during the first half of The Nun’s Story should stick around—it’s laying down the groundwork for later moral choices, and the film sharply improves in time for its conclusion just as Hepburn herself comes back to the fore.

Hairspray (1988)

Hairspray (1988)

(In French, On Cable TV, January 2019) I haven’t seen as many John Waters movies as I’d like yet, but I like what I’ve seen so far, and Hairspray seems to package his iconoclastic outlook in a very audience-friendly package. Set in early-1960s Baltimore, it focuses on a curvy teenager (play by the very cute Rikki Lake) who comes to compete against more conventionally beautiful girls in a dance pageant and break down the city’s racial segregation. The square targets are broad and easy, but the film does have an exaggerated fun factor clearly crossing over in camp aesthetics. Breaking from his most transgressive fare, Waters here offers a slightly subversive look at an earlier generation in the form of a musical comedy. The music is quite good, and the white perspective means that Hairspray is accessible to a very wide audience that can laugh at the heavy-handed racism. (It does remain aimed at a white audience, though—fine for the 1980s, maybe a bit limited in the 2010s.) It’s simply a lot of fun, and the good music means that it’s got replay value as well.

Brexit: The Uncivil War (2019)

Brexit: The Uncivil War (2019)

(On Cable TV, January 2019) The Brexit mess has clearly shown the limits of British collective intelligence for almost three years now. You may say that it’s too early to have a look back at the referendum, but considering that the mess shows no signs of abating [January 2020: It actually got wilder in 2019!], now is no worse than last or next year for an incisive take on the events of 2015–2016. Made-for-TV film (originally for Channel 4, brought to North America by HBO) Brexit: The Uncivil War proves to be significantly better than expected not only at presenting the referendum, but explaining how sophisticated modern persuasion techniques have become. This remarkably entertaining look at the Brexit campaign is based on real facts and features real people, but doesn’t settle for a naturalistic style. In the best tradition of British political satire, Brexit: The Uncivil War takes flights of fancy, breaks down complex issues in an accessible way and throws its hands up in the air while wondering how so many people can be so stupid. It certainly helps that Benedict Cumberbatch headlines the cast by playing balding political strategist Dominic Cummings as a Sherlock-level genius with an ideological bent toward anarchism. The secret sauce in the film, reflecting real-life events, is the use of targeted advertisements delivered very precisely through web sites—there’s a brilliant five-minute segment in the heart of Brexit that connects the dots on how people can be analyzed and manipulated through algorithms that rival Black Mirror in sheer technological horror. It’s executed with a great deal of cinematic flair, and clever writing certainly helps the film’s narrative move forward. It may focus on a disgusted (possibly remorseful) Leave strategist, but the film seems aimed as Remainers—I certainly found it clever and witty, and I couldn’t be more closely aligned with the Remain side despite being, obviously, just a colonial. Brexit: The Uncivil War is funny yet bitter (the sequences featuring American influences, Robert Mercer and Steve Bannon, are portents of much darker forces) and it has things to say that apply well beyond the border of the increasingly not-so-Great Britain.

Pollock (2000)

Pollock (2000)

(In French, On TV, January 2019) I’m often intrigued by the choices that well-known actors make when they become directors. Often, their chance to direct a film is also a chance to express something we may not have guessed from their screen persona. So it is that when Ed Harris chose a project to direct, he went for the life of American painter Jackson Pollock. Given that he also plays Pollock (including the painting sequences) in addition to directing and that the project was ten years in the making after Harris read Pollock’s biography, this is unquestionably his movie. The result is quite interesting, although it does exist in the lineage of the “complicated white man” tradition, where creative genius sometimes excuses a host of personal failings such as alcoholism and anger. Perhaps the most interesting aspect of the film is its look at the creative process, something that a director without an acting background may not have handled the same way. Harris may direct in a straightforward style (something later seen in his Appaloosa follow-up) but the painting scenes alone are quite good, belying the old crack about watching paint dry. Harris is quite good in the title role, but Marcia Gay Hayden is even better as his long-suffering wife. The slide-of-life look at the American 1940s–1950s art world is intriguing. Ultimately, the film does not shy away from Pollock’s tragic arc, and does make a certain statement about the artist. While Pollock could have benefited from a more explicit look inside the painter’s mind, the result is satisfying enough for Harris, both as a performer and a director. Better yet, it’s not the movie you may have expected from seeing Harris-the-Actor.

The Bounty (1984)

The Bounty (1984)

(On Cable TV, January 2019) If I recall correctly, The Bounty is the third version of The Bounty Mutiny story that I’ve seen in slightly more than a year. Fortunately, it may be the best—perhaps not as impressive as the 1935 version for its time, but certainly the one with the better actors and the most nuanced take on the story. Defying the older fictionalized portrait of Captain Blight, modern histories of the event seldom think that the opposition between Blight and Christian Fletcher was a clear case of one being right and the other being wrong. This 1984 version comes to reflect much of that ambiguity, with Blight not necessarily cast as a villain or Christian as a hero, but as a tragedy in which the two men come to fight over different opinions. The ending is a bit glum, reflecting the record although not all of it. Aside from a stronger (but not perfect) historical accuracy, The Bounty relies on none other than Anthony Hopkins and Mel Gibson in the lead roles, with some improbable appearance by notables such as Laurence Oliver, Daniel Day-Lewis and Liam Neeson in smaller roles. Roger Donaldson directs in a fashion that allows both the grandeur and the adventure of the story to come through, featuring a surprising amount of (historically accurate!) nudity, but also the hard choices that come to dominate the second half of the film. Partially designed for people who have seen earlier version of the same story, The Bounty remains an incredible story, leading to improbable survival at sea.

Cocoon (1985)

Cocoon (1985)

(Second Viewing, On Cable TV, January 2019) I remember seeing Cocoon as a kid, but considering the film’s themes of aging it’s very different to see it as a middle-aged adult. (There’s one shot in the film, in which “human skins” are discarded and thrown to the floor by the alien characters, that seriously freaked me out when I was younger.) Efficiently directed by Ron Howard, this is a clever blend of SF, romance and comedy as retirement-aged characters discover alien eggs and the rejuvenating effects of the pool in which they’re stored. Of course, the aliens are there for a reason and their minders have good reason to be concerned. The script cleanly moves between one mode to the other, gradually making its way to a sentimental action-driven finale. There’s a tremendous amount of irony and foreshadowing in Cocoon’s early lines, showing the craft in the script. This probably remains the best film in which Steve Gutenberg ever starred, although his acting simply can’t reassure up to the impressive elderly ensemble cast assembled in between Don Ameche, Wilford Brimley, Hume Cronyn, Jessica Tandy and others. Now that the baby boomers are taking over retirement homes, I expect the film to undergo a modest rediscovery as its themes of eternal youth directly addresses them. For younger viewers, Cocoon can occasionally be a meditation on growing old (and what people would do if there was an alternative), although it doesn’t forget to leaven the meditation with genre elements and comedy.

Ocean’s Eight (2018)

Ocean’s Eight (2018)

(On Cable TV, January 2019) Like many, I’m not overly happy with the recent tradition of relaunching franchises with gender-flipped casts—it smacks of opportunism, and a cheap way to revive franchises that have otherwise run their courses. But even grouchy me had a hard time resisting the charm of Ocean’s Eight, which resurrects the modern Ocean’s comedic heist franchise with a mostly female cast. Headlined by Anne Hathaway (going back to a sympathetic character after a too-long detour playing out-of-persona unlikable characters), the ensemble cast tears into the usual heist plot mechanics with gusto, with everybody getting a choice moment or two. Plot-wise, this isn’t anything we haven’t seen before, although it should be noted that rather than head for banks or casinos like their male colleagues, the women of Ocean’s Eight head for jewelry at a high-end fashion event … because why not. This enjoyable follow-up has a snappy rhythm thanks to director Gary Ross, and even the post-heist material doesn’t drag on too much despite wallowing in useless complications. (But it wouldn’t be a heist movie if they went for a simple approach.) The ensemble cast is at the top of their game, what with Sandra Bullock going head-to-head with Cate Blanchett, Helena Bonham-Carter throwing in a bawdy French dialogue wordplay that is not adequately translated in the subtitles, as well as younger actresses such as Mindy Kaling, Rihanna and Awkwafina having good moments. It’s not meant to be profound or sophisticated beyond surface appearance, but Ocean’s Eight is a fun heist movie, and I quite liked it.

The Mighty Ducks (1992)

The Mighty Ducks (1992)

(In French, On TV, January 2019) Sports movie are often intensely formulaic, and The Mighty Ducks is even more formulaic than most. It being a hockey movie is almost irrelevant to the hackneyed underdogs plot that it follows without deviation, assembling a team of misfits to take on much better teams. Emilio Estevez slums it up by taking on the usual coach role of those movies, overcoming some personal trauma by working with troubled kids. It’s a bog-standard sports movie and perhaps that helps explain its enduring popularity. Estevez is not bad, the tone of the film is carefully pitched to impressionable young teenagers (who are guaranteed to remember it fondly as adults) and hockey helps the action move faster than baseball. You can compare and contrast the beige amiability of The Mighty Ducks to spikier fare such as The Bad News Bears for an instruction on how bland corporate products are extruded. It almost inevitably led to the naming of Disney’s own hockey team, furthering cementing the film’s legacy right before the two sequels and animated TV series. For adults, though, The Mighty Ducks is an umpteenth take on an overly familiar formula. It’s watchable, but almost immediately forgettable.

Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018)

Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018)

(Netflix Streaming, January 2019) I watched Solo: A Star Wars Story very reluctantly. The shameless exploitation of the Star Wars universe by Disney has a clear endpoint of diminishing return, and the way the standalone movies have been calculated for mercenary impact is enough to leave a bad taste in everyone’s mouth. To put it bluntly, Solo is a useless, unneeded movie. Nobody was really asking for a young Han Solo film. Nobody needed another attempt to explain the most minute corners of the Star Wars universe in even-duller detail. Frankly, the result does rankle. It’s filled with huge coincidences, an annoying tendency to overexplain, the irritating urge to tie up everything and the introduction of new leitmotifs that smack of modern screenwriter handbooks more than organic storytelling. But of course, organic storytelling is the last thing that Disney wants, and much of the chatter prior to the film’s release had to do with the way the original team of directors—iconoclasts Chris Miller and Phil Lord—was fired and replaced by Ron Howard, who reportedly reshot Solo using a more conventional approach. It would be fascinating to see that first cut of the film (I’m not holding my breath), but the result does work as a straight-up adventure. The plot is serviceable, the actors in the main roles are generally fine (I may even come to like Emilia Clarke at some point in the future) and the secondary characters usually steal the show—with a special mention for gone-too-soon Thandie Newton’s character, Donald Glover as a perfect Lando Carlissian, Phoebe Waller-Bridge as the voice of L3-37 and Erin Kellyman as Enfys Nest. While Solo isn’t devoid of links to the rest of the Star Wars Universe, those are more interesting when they cover smaller touches (such as the embedding of L3-37 within the Falcon, or the dawn of the Rebellion) than providing an entire backstory to Han Solo. The film is far more interesting when it strikes out on its own away from the established Star Wars mythos than when it rehashes the same old thing. Han Solo often ends up being the least interesting thing about the movie dedicated to him, not helped along by Alden Ehrenreich’s bland take on the character. If there’s one good thing to come out of Solo’s relative lack of commercial success (considering expectations and a $275M budget, “merely” grossing $400M is not enough), it’s that The Mouse has finally understood the point of diminishing returns on its Star Wars cash grab and may start being more discriminate about future projects.