Month: September 2021

  • Double Happiness (1994)

    Double Happiness (1994)

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) As someone who’s had a movie crush on Ottawa-homegirl Sandra Oh for a while, it naturally took about half a second for me to record Double Happiness on the DVR, considering that it’s one of the few films in which she holds the leading role, and if often considered her breakthrough performance. Here she plays a Chinese-Canadian young woman (never mind that Oh is of Korean ethnicity) torn between her traditional upbringing and more western cultural values, trying to please her parents and find her own way. This isn’t groundbreaking material — although it was considerably more novel back in 1994—but the affectionate execution makes it all worthwhile. Writer-director Mina Shum clearly knows what she’s going for, and manages to deliver a film that still feels reasonably fresh even decades and many similar movies later. Oh herself is the film’s biggest asset, delivering a great performance that asks a lot in presenting a double life. If you’re one of her fans, this ranks as one of her essential performances — fairly early in her career, and yet already self-assured.

  • Vox Lux (2018)

    Vox Lux (2018)

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) All right, Vox Lux: You have all the rights in the world to be as unpleasant as possible from the get-go (that is: graphic footage of a likable teacher getting gunned down in a school shooting during the film’s opening scene) and then being all mysterious and incoherent until the end… but that doesn’t force me to like you. Writer-director Brady Corbet certainly aims high enough to be considered pretentious, with a two-act structure that seemingly leaves much of the story in the backstory. Part one, beginning in 2000, has to do with a school shooting survivor becoming a national sensation for a song penned in the aftermath of the attack and then becoming a star. The second act picks up sixteen years later as our protagonist (now played by Natalie Portman), in her full-blown egomaniac mode, prepares for a concert and goes lunching with her daughter. It ends at a concert with the possibly-supernatural revelation that our protagonist made a deal with the devil for survival in exchange for perverting the world. Now that’s a premise… too bad it’s a tossed-off line after what feels like an hour of prologue and forty-five minutes of tangents. There are many fascinating things in Vox Lux, from the slightly alternate reality it plays with, to William Defoe voicing an unsettling narrator, to some visual ideas and directorial panache in setting up single-shot sequences. Too bad that it’s so incredibly scattered — thematically, narratively, visually, the film goes everywhere and nowhere at once, not quite understanding the power of focus… or even in following up with the ideas it has. Want to do a film about a deal-with-the-devil singer ruining the twenty-first century? I’m so there. But gallivanting in small-scale fame-building (albeit with Jude Law!), describing a European trip that turns out to be meaningless, glancing off September 11 as a personal tragedy, skipping over much of the dramatic meat of a decaying sororal relationship, playing with the idea of terrorism being inspired by her work, stopping to take a look at diva-like behaviour… Vox Lux is so undisciplined that it begs the question as to what purpose the film intended for itself. It’s just messy, overlong, underwritten, and afraid to poke at its own demons. It’s unconventional all right, but that means that the safety zone for a successful landing is practically non-existent.

  • Next Day Air (2009)

    Next Day Air (2009)

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) I have some fondness for those small low-budget comic thrillers with mostly black casts — they’re often a lot of fun to watch even if they’re hardly essential, and it’s that category that I’d place Next Day Air, alongside such titles as All About the Benjamins, Bait, Blue Streak and a few others. The plot is more convoluted than complex, but it deals with an important package being delivered to the wrong address and the efforts of various groups to find it again. A few moderately known names (Donald Faison, Mike Epps, Mos Def) anchor the cast, but much of the film lives on the script rather than the performances. Director Benny Boom apparently has some fun managing the proceedings, although he seems hesitant to either go big on the comedy or the action. There are still a few good moments (including a crime-speak translation) and an eye-catching performance from Yasmin Deliz. Moving briskly at less than 90 minutes, Next Day Air works fast and works well as long as your expectations don’t run particularly high.

  • Doll Graveyard (2005)

    Doll Graveyard (2005)

    (In French, On Cable TV, September 2021) As I’ve mentioned before, I’m steadily going through horror writer-director Charles Band’s filmography, and I’m at the point where I’m recognizing various motifs. The creepy-doll thing, for instance, is so prevalent as to qualify as an obsession in his work, showing up in at least seven of his movies. In Doll Graveyard (and no one will be blamed if we’re confusing them), a family is besieged by a supernatural menace from beyond the grave, possessing four dolls (or action figures) that kill people in a variety of creative ways. If you’re familiar with Band’s Full Moon catalogue, you know the drill: premise better than the execution, but still with a kernel of interest. The mood is not overly sombre considering the subject matter, although few will be tempted to call it a comedy. Doll Graveyard is mildly entertaining (perhaps best as background viewing) without being all that good which, in the horror genre, qualifies it as more of a success than you’d guess.

  • Guns Akimbo (2019)

    Guns Akimbo (2019)

    (Prime Streaming, September 2021) I quite liked writer-director Jason Lei Howden’s debut feature Deathgasm, so my expectations ran high for his follow-up Guns Akimbo. It does not disappoint too much. Set in the same irreverent, gory, raunchy and fast-paced style as the previous film, Guns Akimbo focuses on a young video-game developer (Daniel Radcliffe, not bad at all) who, after going troll-hunting on the comment section of a popular deadly livestream series, wakes up to find two guns bolted to his hands and a featured role in the next instalment of the series. Pitted against an extraordinarily competent assassin, he quickly realizes that there’s no one else to turn to. It’s probably useless to complain (even as a formality) that the result is far too violent for its own good. Still, the breakneck pacing of the rest of the film helps in making up for it. Howden gets to the action quickly and lets his camera fly to keep us involved: it’s all frantic in trying to keep up with the convoluted plotting, but the approach will make videogame fans feel right at home. There’s a valid criticism that the film is a lot of flash and not much substance, but then again — Guns Akimbo is more comfortable on a shelf next to Crank and Hardcore Henry than anything else more respectable.

  • Meet the Browns (2008)

    Meet the Browns (2008)

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) As is customary for early Tyler Perry movies, there are a lot of familiar elements at play in Meet the Browns: A single mother struggling to keep her kids out of trouble; a suddenly deceased father; a return from Chicago to the south in order to reunite with a family she didn’t know; a tall-dark-handsome romantic prospect with a troubled past; an ex that just won’t stay in his place; street gang drug dealing; and Madea for not much more than a cameo. In execution, it all feels slap-dash: the tone jumps from comedy to drama to romance, the film fails to capitalize on many of its assets (the house renovation, which could have been a powerful thematic device in other hands, is here completely glossed over) and the dialogue can be dryly ordinary. But that’s not necessarily the case throughout: For instance, a sequence in which the patriarch enumerates all of the deceased father’s “hoes” is their scandalous diversity in front of his surviving family is a delightful comic highlight. Angela Basset looks amazing and gives life to her role as the lead; and the morals of the film are in the right place. Sofia Vergara also shows up in a pre-stardom role. I did like the ensemble of characters quickly sketched in straightforward scenes, and the romance is crudely effective in its own way. It makes for likable if imperfect viewing, the kind of thing that works best in a series (as in: “Tyler Perry movies”) than by itself, where it feels slightly too small and incomplete. Case in point: The Madea cameo feels gratuitous and disconnected by itself, but is meant as a lead-in to the next film in the series. On to the next one, then…

  • Lucky Grandma (2019)

    Lucky Grandma (2019)

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) One of the best compliments I can make about a film is praising the way it immerses us in another way of living, rarely shown on screen — maybe a historical period, maybe another country, maybe a marginalized group. This praise is usually understood to be an accessory to a sustained narrative: that it complements the story. Lucky Grandma chooses to invert the proportions: It’s primarily a character study, and then only accessorily (and disappointingly) a story. Our protagonist is an unusual figure in American cinema: an elderly woman of Chinese ethnicity, living in New York City’s Chinatown. She speaks English but prefers Cantonese, lives by herself despite her progeny’s concerns, and gets her thrills by going on group outings to Atlantic City casinos. In keeping with writer-director Sasie Sealy’s desire to keep the camera on its protagonist (Tsai Chin, in a remarkable performance) as long as possible, the plot gets going fairly late, as she comes into possession of a duffel bag filled with mob money after an unsuccessful gambling run. She gets involved in a bit of a mob dispute and it ends more realistically than you’d expect. Still, the point here is an American film set in NYC and featuring a majority of Chinese dialogue, in which the English-speaking characters are usually portrayed as intrusions. It’s an unusual mixture — By most standards, it feels slack, slow, and not as much fun as expected. But Lucky Grandma wasn’t designed to be either fast, tight or fun. It does get the atmosphere right, though.

  • Nell (1994)

    Nell (1994)

    (In French, On Cable TV, September 2021) There are a lot of Hollywood dramatics in Nell, the story of two researchers investigating what could be a feral child following the death of her mother. Liam Neeson and Natasha Richardson play the slowly-falling-in-love researchers in likable performances (as far as I can determine, the shooting of the film roughly coincided with their real-life wedding), but Jodie Foster hogs all attention as the not-so-feral-child around which the rest of the film revolves. It’s a ferocious, daring performance, especially given how much of it is in a quasi-invented language. The rest of Nell is very much aligned with the usual tropes of outsiders being taken in by so-called normal characters. There are many plot contrivances along the way, but it ends like it should with everyone being reasonably happy. It’s generally interesting throughout, and there’s more nudity from Foster than anyone would expect (it’s not a scene meant to make anyone feel good). Neeson is very solid in a role that expects him to be an anchoring presence. Much of the film takes place in well-photographed nature, making it even more alien when the film briefly retreats to a courtroom in time for a trial. Familiar but executed reasonably well, Nell isn’t meant for surprises.

  • Atanarjuat [Atanarjuat: The Fast Runner] (2001)

    Atanarjuat [Atanarjuat: The Fast Runner] (2001)

    (With French Subtitles, On TV, September 2021) In the pantheon of Canadian movies, Atanarjuat comes with exceptional acclaim. It was a global sensation upon its release, won Cannes’ Golden Camera award, ranked high at the Canadian box-office, heralded First-Nation filmmaking and regularly turns up on various Canadian best-of lists since then. There’s some substance behind its enduring popularity: As the first Inuktitut-language film, entirely shot in Nunavut, it represented a new branch of cinema even a century into the art form. It’s definitely something fresh to watch even today: taking us back thousands of years and into the arctic circle, it has immense documentary value in showing the traditional Inuit lifestyle — from building igloos to icing sleds to preparing food, director Zacharias Kunuk takes pain to bring viewers somewhere else entirely. Some magnificent arctic imagery also shows something new, not merely ice floes but the land in the brief arctic summer, and other unusual vistas as well. In recounting an ancient legend, it also presents something quite unlike anything else. So far so good — but Atanarjuat can also suffer from its own hype. When the film was crowned “Greatest Canadian film of all time” by the Toronto Film Festival in 2015 (most likely a methodology artifact — every critic polled will have different opinions about the greatest Canadian movies, but many will include Atanarjuat somewhere in their top-10 list), it also exposed itself to some contrarian opinions. It’s not as if the film is perfect, or has aged as well as you’d think. Shot at the dawn of digital cameras as a viable filmmaking tool, Atanarjuat now looks uglier than ever on high-definition screens. The low resolution and blown-out picture are now actively irritating in that it places an obstacle between what’s being shot and how it’s shown to viewers. The muddy, indistinct shapes of the image are disappointing, and the quality of the camera movement breaks immersion. This is not helped by a directing style that is better intentioned than fluid: strange and inappropriate choices in close-ups, medium shots and long shots frustrate more than they charm, and the film seldom flows well from one image to another. But it’s the narrative quality of the film that frustrates more than anything else: coming from a different storytelling tradition, the narrative feels jumbled and frankly interminable at more than two hours and a half. The acting is tough to gauge — except when moments of it feel intensely annoying. There are still some great moments, though: Lead actor Natar Ungalaaq deservedly earns our respect for being willing to run for extended periods of time barefooted, bare-naked (with plenty of frontal nudity) on wet ice in the film’s action climax. There’s a lot more sex and violence to Atanarjuat than you’d guess, and it’s hard to put into words the wonder of watching something so alien on-screen. But at the end of it (bruised and battered from the extended running time and the film’s shaky narrative drive), I found myself more disappointed than exhilarated from it all. Landmark film? Absolutely. Great film? Let’s talk.

  • 21 Bridges (2019)

    21 Bridges (2019)

    (Amazon Streaming, September 2021) As much as standalone thrillers have gone out of favour compared to superhero movies or fantasy films, there will always be an audience for them, and 21 Bridges is a decently entertaining example of the form. (Considering that the film was produced by Marvel directors Joe and Anthony Russo, this line from superhero films to this thriller isn’t as tendentious as you’d think.)  The titular idea has The New York Police Department shutting down the 21 bridges connecting Manhattan to the rest of the world to contain and catch two suspects who have been involved in a deadly firefight with a group of police officers. NYPD is rabid about cop-killers, and our lead character is a cop with a history of shooting suspects — that makes him a trusted man to complete the assignment. The clock is ticking (the bridges can’t stay closed once the morning commute starts) and the suspects are moving, but there’s just one detail that doesn’t add up: Why would two small-time criminals stumble upon 300 pounds of cocaine at the same time as a group of heavily armed police officers? The answer to that propels the last and most interesting act of the film. Headlined by one of Chadwick Boseman’s final performances, 21 Bridges isn’t quite a perfect film: After a strong opening, it meanders for a while before coming back in focus in time for a good third act. J. K. Simmons also turns in a reliably good performance, although it’s just a bit too easy to guess much about where the film is going to end based on a flashy scene early in the narrative — why would someone of Simmon’s stature be there for a walk-on role? The subject matter of the film isn’t anything we haven’t seen in other corrupt-cop thriller, but it has its moments. What doesn’t quite work as intended, though, is the decision to make the protagonist a habitual suspect-killer: Attitudes toward abusive cops have thankfully changed in the past two years, and there’s a cloud of ambiguity over the story that probably wasn’t meant to be quite as pronounced upon release. Still, director Brian Kirk can bring things to a boil when it counts, and fans of corrupt police thrillers are likely to appreciate the result.

  • Coolie No. 1 (2020)

    Coolie No. 1 (2020)

    (Amazon Streaming, September 2021) Profoundly silly but often very entertaining, Coolie No. 1 is a comedy that takes us to an Indian train station, where our protagonist works as a porter — but not just any porter: the best one, the number one. His life suddenly becomes more complicated when he gets a glimpse at a local beauty whose rich father is trying to marry — and there’s a disgruntled marriage broker ready to engineer events for maximum chaos. Varun Dhawan is quite good in the lead role, able to reach the romantic, comedic and even the action requirements of the role. The script quickly gets down to classic dual-identity shenanigans, with the lead character pretending to be his richer twin brother, and characters either being fooled or not at all. Meanwhile, Sara Ali Khan makes for an excellent love interest (although I did like Shikha Talsania more as the female lead’s sister) and other characters provide the comic chaos required by the script. A handful of colourful musical numbers enliven things considerably, my favourite being the poppy “Mirchi Lagi Toh” set against a bright pastel square. Coolie No. 1 is not great or witty cinema: it mugs for the audience too often, relies on familiar material and falters with a climax that just goes slightly over the top. But it’s funny, likable, bouncy and colourful. That can be hit or miss, but it was a definite hit after a streak of watching so many serious films.

  • The Newspaperman: The Life and Times of Ben Bradlee (2017)

    The Newspaperman: The Life and Times of Ben Bradlee (2017)

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) It’s impossible not to know about Watergate without knowing about Ben Bradlee (1921–2014), the famous editor of The Washington Post who helped the paper navigate the tumultuous events that led from a low-rent criminal investigation to the end of the Nixon presidency. Extra points are given for knowing about his role in the Watergate prequel The Pentagon Papers, in which the Post went to the courts in order to secure journalistic freedom. But there’s a lot more to learn about Bradlee’s life and tenure. He was best friends with John F. Kennedy and Jacqueline Onassis, prior and during his presidency (thus paving his access to the Washington political class). Then there’s the Janet Cooke scandal, a 1981 incident that resulted in The Post returning a Pulitzer Prize (still a unique event!) when the winning article was revealed to be a fabrication by an overambitious young reporter. And that’s just the headlines — As The Newspaperman: The Life and Times of Ben Bradlee goes on, we learn about his tumultuous personal history (three marriages, the latter two stemming from affairs that broke up the previous marriages), a healthy ego fed by Jason Robart’s Award-winning performance playing him All the President’s Men, his childhood bout with polio, and his views as one of the most recognized news editors of the late twentieth century. Much of the film benefits from Bradlee’s narration, as his reading of his autobiography gives him a voice three years after his death. In these voiceovers and archive footage, Bradlee does come across as a highly charismatic presence, a passionate advocate for truth and a charming rogue when it comes to women. While complimentary of his subject, director John Maggio goes beyond the bloodless portrayal of a two-fisted editor or semi-political figure — the truthfulness of his personal history, as he skips from one wife to another, can be surprising. (Significantly, late-life archival footage of him asked about regrets focuses on the anguish he caused to his first two wives.)  The Newspaperman, as the title indicates, will largely be of interest to political junkies and news buffs who already know just enough to be interested by Bradlee but not enough to know the full story. It’s quite entertaining and progressively illuminating about the evolution of American journalism under his lifetime.

  • The Shadow (1994)

    The Shadow (1994)

    (In French, On Cable TV, September 2021) I’m not going to pretend that The Shadow is a particularly good movie — it doesn’t do justice to its film noir potential, it’s a superhero film crippled by mid-1990s special effects and there’s something slightly off in its take on pulp adventure theatrics. But I’m still sorry I’ve missed it until now. Director Russell Mulcahy does manage to animate the film with enough energy to get it off the ground, especially once it truly starts taking advantage of its noirish pulp atmosphere. But having all of these things at the film’s disposable doesn’t necessarily translate into fulfilling that potential, and so The Shadow repeatedly sparks but seldom ignites. Alec Baldwin has some unrealized potential as a playboy who moonlights as a crime fighter (yes, this should be familiar) and “knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men.”  Penelope Ann Miller tries her best as a pulpy blonde, and other names such as Peter Boyle, Ian McKellen and Tim Curry further enliven the cast. Some moments work and some parts don’t: generally speaking, the better ones don’t rely on exotic orientalism that didn’t play very well back in 1994 and plays even worse today. The awkward special effects certainly limit what the film could do — I’m not saying we need a remake, but this is the kind of film that would be very different if made with today’s technology. Still, I do have some fondness for the result — part of it due to some attachment to 1990s films, and part of it due to The Shadow’s willingness to play with noir archetypes that I like a lot. I can’t even specifically highlight its deficiencies as being specifically surprising: many attempts at reviving pulp heroes have run aground on similar shoals. You can certainly include it in a filmography of proto-superhero movies and see what other later examples (I’m thinking Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, but also The Spirit and Batman Begins) would do with similar tone or plot elements).

  • The Gorgeous Hussey (1936)

    The Gorgeous Hussey (1936)

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) Maybe it’s my still-evolving understanding of English vocabulary, but I’m still grinning at the moxie required to name a movie The Gorgeous Hussey. It does fit, though: As a very fictionalized retelling of the life of a humble woman who became an unlikely power broker thanks to her friendship with American politicians such as Andrew Jackson, it’s meant to be a clash of sensibilities between beauty and politics within a character definitely meant to illustrate more contemporary values. In the surprisingly large filmography about American politics, this film stands out by being more about saucy romance and backroom dealings than policy or memorable speeches. Of course, the project was crippled from the get-go — made in the early aggressive early days of the Hays Code, The Gorgeous Hussey got away with its title, but could not do justice to the affairs, bawdy actions and ostracism of the Petticoat Affair it describes. As a result, it feels neutered — especially when you look up the historical record of the events that the film is meant to explore. It’s not a complete loss, though: visually, the film makes the most out of its period settings with great costumes and sets. Acting-wise, the good news is that the cast has a number of very familiar names, from Joan Crawford in the lead, James Stewart and Franchot Tone as supporting players, and Lionel Barrymore playing Jackson with panache. Unfortunately, that casting is now a double-edged sword: Crawford’s persona is too modern to play a historical figure without reminding audiences of her other films, and a similar problem also affects Stewart — magnified by the thinness of his part. All of these issues make The Gorgeous Hussey more a curio than a satisfying film in its own right. It’s worth a look to see how a Hays-Code-era film tried to portray a subject matter too salacious for its own good, but it’s not really much of a success on its own.

  • Standing in the Shadows of Motown (2002)

    Standing in the Shadows of Motown (2002)

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) The influence of The Funk Brothers as the uncredited house band heard on many of Motown’s iconic hits has long been appreciated by music buffs, but documentaries such as Standing in the Shadows of Motown did much to capture their contribution, interview them before they passed away, and offer a glimpse behind the Detroit-based hits-making machine. By the time later documentaries such as 2019’s Hitsville rolled around, they could mention The Funk Brothers knowing that viewers knew what they were talking about. But going back to 2002 ends up being an invaluable time capsule, as the documentary is able to interview many elderly Funk Brothers about their experiences working with Motown to create that signature sound. Some of the film’s most emotional moments involve members of the group going back to Motown’s “Studio A” and reflecting on what happened in that room during their many years backing up the studio stars. (The film ends as they walk out of the studio for a final time and shut off the light.)  In parallel, Standing in the Shadows of Motown follows the days leading to a reunion concert in which surviving members of the band were highlighted for their contributions. This leads to a rather good moment with Joan Osborne spontaneously going acapella on a Motown song and doing a very good job at it. As one would expect from the subject matter, the soundtrack of the film is nothing short of terrific, with a mixture of classic recordings and newer covers with more contemporary artists. With Standing in the Shadows of Motown, director Paul Justman gave himself the explicit mission to shine a light on a little-known facet of music history and apparently succeeded — the film is a reference in most discussions of The Funk Brothers I’ve consulted, and it’s clearly still educating viewers to this day. Pair it with Hitsville for a near-perfect Motown double-feature with an embarrassment of great music.