Author: Christian Sauvé

  • … E tu vivrai nel terrore! L’aldilà [The Beyond] (1981)

    … E tu vivrai nel terrore! L’aldilà [The Beyond] (1981)

    (In French, On Cable TV, June 2020) While American horror movies of the early 1980s were too often stuck with knife-wielding psycho slashers, you could look at Europe and often Italy for variety—for better or for worse! Often set in the United States, Italian horror movies went crazy in ways that could be disgusting or entertaining, often in the same movie. In The Beyond’s case, writer-director Lucio Fulci goes to New Orleans in order to deliver a haunted house story that easily bubbles in all directions to include ghouls, a cursed book, sacrifices to a painting, and a portal to hell. Narratively, it’s a mess—a wild mishmash of nightmarish set-pieces loosely strung together along a haunted-hotel premise. It’s not a tight movie nor a very good one (spiders don’t work that way!), but it’s far more interesting than the psycho slasher movies or the era. More care has been spent on the gore effects (including a surprising number of people melting) than the plot, but even with the hooey that doesn’t fit together, The Beyond does create an interesting surprise-bag atmosphere where anything and everything can happen next. Despite a few strong female characters, don’t get attached to any of them—they’re not well developed, and the unusually haunting ending does them no favours. Normally, I wouldn’t like something like The Beyond—too scattered, too gory, too focused on visual shocks than narration. But I happened to see it after too many identical early-1980s American slashers, and it certainly feels more imaginative than other films of the time without quite falling into the nihilistic meanness of some other Italian horror films of the period (specifically the zombie films)—it’s not much, but it’s better.

  • Secret Beyond the Door… (1947)

    Secret Beyond the Door… (1947)

    (On Cable TV, June 2020) Fritz Lang directed many thrillers during his Hollywood career, and while there are better ones than Secret Beyond the Door…, it’s a film that mashes together some very interesting influences. The link between the Bluebeard legend and the domestic thrillers of the 1940s seemed inevitable, considering the peril that a new husband may represent for his new wife. The result is far more melodramatic than many of Lang’s more straightforward thrillers, what with the overdramatic narration, strong musical cues and an undisguised subject matter. Stylistically, it tries to blend together the soft touch of domestic thrillers of earlier years (Suspicion, Rebecca) while going to noirish stylistic elements. It does get almost ridiculously intense, as the woman (and the audience!) is absolutely completely resolutely certain that the husband is out to kill his new wife like his previous ones. But calm down—it’s not going to go there, not really. The ending provides the thrills and the romantic resolution, wrapping up a movie that may be just a touch too strident along the way, but still manages a rather good impression.

  • Three Coins in a Fountain (1954)

    Three Coins in a Fountain (1954)

    (On Cable TV, June 2020) From roughly 1951 to 1965, the American movie industry frequently headed to Rome as part of “Hollywood on the Tiber” era—motivated by financial incentives and the presence of a decent studio complex, Hollywood churned out a bunch of sword-and-sandal historical epics… and a few contemporary movies set in Rome as well. Three Coins in a Fountain isn’t the first or most famous of those (Roman Holiday got there a year earlier and remains better known) but it does offer an entertaining look at the love life of a trio of expatriate Americans in Rome, as fate -or the Trévi fountain- has very different plans from what they have in mind. This is a romantic comedy, so you have to go along with the overwrought complications and contrivances of the form. Fortunately, the gorgeous colourful atmosphere of early-1950s Rome—especially set against romance—is well worth a look beyond the plot: thanks to director Jean Negulesco, there’s an atmosphere quite unlike any other here, and it’s like taking a trip back in time and place to drink it all in. The treatment of the expatriate life remains credible and not always all that common. It’s all rather charming, even if calling it a “comedy” has more to do with the upbeat ending than any kinds of jokes and laughs along the way.

  • Can you Keep a Secret? (2019)

    Can you Keep a Secret? (2019)

    (On Cable TV, May 2020) For an in-demand actress like Alexandra Daddario, it’s not a bad idea to star in a high-concept romantic comedy—especially if it’s the kind of romantic lead that allows her to show comic chops. But the film has to work in order to best showcase her, and Can you Keep a Secret? does wobble hard on its way to a conclusion. The high-concept here is that the lead character spills all sorts of embarrassing secrets to a stranger who is later revealed to be her new boss. Oops. But while that’s not a bad premise, the development doesn’t go anywhere interesting after that—the comedy becomes a humourless romance the longer it focuses on the two lead characters. For Daddario, it’s not much of a role—sure, she’s in nearly every scene, but it’s a generic “young professional woman” part that anyone her age could have played without much distinction. This is not unusual for romantic comedies, except that her friends (played by Kimiko Glenn and the wonderful Sunita Mani) run circles around her not only in terms of comedy (as is usually the case with rom-com friends) but also turn in far more distinctive performances. It doesn’t help that Can you Keep a Secret? has a bizarre mixture of dumb only-in-movies characters acting like idiots, with occasional moments of reality and curious compassion. The idiot-plotting gets tiresome, especially as the film occasionally wants to be taken seriously as a commentary on honesty in relationships. In the end, Can you Keep a Secret? may please romantic comedy fans and Daddario aficionados, but it’s certainly not good enough to be a breakout hit fit to make new converts.

  • Roadgames (1981)

    Roadgames (1981)

    (In French, On Cable TV, May 2020) As far as atmospheric concepts go, Roadgames scores an impressive success in setting much of its narrative on Australia’s south-eastern highway—a place of near-endless distances and nowhere to go as it crosses a vast desert. On this unusual backdrop, writer-director Richard Franklin sets a serial-killer thriller in which a truck driver works with a hitchhiker to unmask a serial killer who, they suspect, is travelling in the same direction as they are. It’s ludicrous and yet it sort-of-works in an ozsploitation kind of way. Having Stacy Keach as the hero-trucker protagonist is fine, but having Jamie Lee Curtis as the sidekick does work very well. Roadgames is dirty and grimy and doesn’t quite always live up to its own premises (the budget doesn’t help) but the concept is interesting and the execution is halfway decent. Even those not usually interested by serial-killer movies may be charmed by the film’s ever-moving setting and the impact this kinetic backdrop has on the narrative.

  • Gisaengchung [Parasite] (2019)

    Gisaengchung [Parasite] (2019)

    (On Cable TV, May 2020) What makes an instant cinema classic? What is the difference between an ordinary film and a great film? Those are the types of questions we ask in seeing Parasite—a spectacular blend of plot, character, cinematography, directing, themes and other virtues any great film can have. It certainly takes a gifted filmmaker—in this case writer-director Bong Joon-ho cashing in a reputation forged with an already long list of notable films with one that tops them all. It takes a premise simple enough to hook—in this case, a lower-class family progressively taking over the services for an oblivious upper-class family. It takes a great set and atmosphere—in this case a hypermodern house that’s practically a character in its own right. It takes a thick overlay of thematic interpretations to accompany the narrative—here, among other things, a critique of class exploitation and capitalism. It also takes narrative twists and turns—but telling too much of those would rob viewers of the film’s specific pleasures. Suffice to say that Parasite is exhilarating filmmaking, and it brings something new to the cinephile’s table with its collision of tropes, deep irony, unusual story and class satire. It’s slightly more slow-paced than I would have liked at first, but it steadily gains steam as it goes along. I don’t quite agree with its Best Picture Academy award for a trivial reason (The Oscars aren’t about cinema, they’re about Hollywood) but that shouldn’t take away from the conviction that Parasite is one of the films that people will remember from the 2010s.

  • Ana Maria in Novela Land (2015)

    Ana Maria in Novela Land (2015)

    (In French, On TV, May 2020) I suppose that the high-concept was so irresistible that it had to be done at some point: Why not a cute romantic comedy in which an obsessed telenovela fan switches places with the star of her favourite series? In the hands of writer-director Georgina Garcia Riedel, Ana Maria in Novela Land does tap into some of the insanity and stylistic excesses of the stereotypical telenovelas. It does help that it stars Edy Ganem, a preposterously attractive and likable lead actress who looks completely at home in the hyper-sexy nature of telenovelas. While it may not completely deliver on the premise, it’s pleasant enough to watch and is even (like its inspiration) occasionally racy within the confines of the rating. There are a few very interesting casting choices in supporting roles—Elizabeth Peña’s last role, Luis Guzman as the heavy and Sung Kang as a Korean soap opera star. A few quirks and moments don’t quite make cohesive sense—bathroom, zombies, musical segments and Korean soap—which reinforces the feeling that while this is not bad, it’s also a bit scattered and unfocused in how it approaches its premise. A measure of Ana Maria in Novela Land’s imperfect success is to be found in the film’s length feeling overlong even at barely 89 minutes. Still, it’s watchable enough.

  • Kiss of Death (1995)

    Kiss of Death (1995)

    (In French, On Cable TV, May 2020) The first thing anyone will notice about Kiss of Death is—holy moly, what a good cast of actors: David Caruso (back when he thought TV stardom led to a cinema career), Samuel L. Jackson (looking young!), Nicolas Cage (as a crime lord!), Helen Hunt, Stanley Tucci (with some hair!), Michael Rapaport, Ving Rhames… I mean, that’s interesting. The second thing one notices after the credits is—wow, this was a completely unremarkable crime thriller. Directed in solid but unspectacular fashion by Barbet Schroeder, it’s an update to the 1947 film noir classic that transposes the story in the 1990s, but doesn’t really do anything all that exceptional with it all. It’s not uninteresting—at the very least, you can say that it’s watchable without trouble. But it’s not anything more: moments where the film is overwrought (thank you, Nicolas Cage) almost give a glimpse into what this Kiss of Death could have been with more verve from everyone. In its current state, though, it’s having a really hard time distinguishing itself from the middle of the pack of 1990s crime thrillers: admittedly a good decade for those, but not an excuse for a film that doesn’t quite reach its objectives.

    (Second Viewing, In French, On Cable TV, July 2021) I know, I know – it makes absolutely no sense that I would see Kiss of Death for a second time in a year when there are far, far better movies that I have either not seen or seen only once. But as seasoned reviewers will tell you: no movies are as hard to review as the indifferent ones. You can be eloquent about the great or good movies; you can be acerbic about the bad or the terrible ones, but those movies firmly in the middle? Good luck even remembering them. So it is that I decided to have a second go at the 1995 version Kiss of Death, largely because I’d just seen the original 1947 one, and there was the remake playing again right now. Alas, I don’t have much to report – the remake is just as featureless and forgettable as the first time. The casting remains interesting, what with David Caruso, Samuel L. Jackson, Nicolas Cage, Helen Hunt, Ving Rhames, and Stanley Tucci (in the awkward balding phase of his career). And while the cast slightly elevates the material (with particular mention to Nicholas Cage, who’s given the unenviable task of measuring up to Richard Widmark’s iconic performance in the original film) it’s really not enough to distinguish what remains a somewhat humdrum mid-1990s thriller. I can understand the desire to strike a mark away from the original noir classic, but in setting out to do its own thing and update the material, this remake forgoes the psychotic vileness of the antagonist, the strong atmospheric cinematography and the impending feeling of doom for the protagonist. (The happy-ish ending is not a surprise like it was in the original, but par for the course of such thrillers.) What we’re left is largely undistinguishable from so many other thrillers of the time, executed with mere competence but no real flair. I’m reasonably confident that I’m going to forget nearly everything about this remake within days, so you may get a third viewing in the next few months.

  • The 9th Life of Louis Drax (2016)

    The 9th Life of Louis Drax (2016)

    (On Cable TV, May 2020) Any viewer with a fondness for genre-busting will have a great time in watching The 9th Life of Louis Drax, which never completely settles for one genre when several will do the trick. At first a medical mystery (as a doctor cares for a boy in a coma), then a romance (as the doctor begins a relationship with the mother), then a murder mystery (as a body is found), then maybe horror (as a creature makes its way into the hospital), then again maybe just pretentious literary devices (as the boy in a coma narrates everything and the film is adapted from a novel). Considering that it’s directed by Alexandre Aja, whose best-known films are all in the horror genre, The 9th Life of Louis Drax is a glossy, off-kilter, visually stylish blend of very different things. The casting won’t make it any easier, as we see actors known for a variety of genres all have small and big roles, from Jamie Dornan, Oliver Platt (in a serious role), Molly Parker (as a police officer), Barbara Hershey, to Aaron Paul. If the point is to keep viewers guessing, then great—but the continuous hesitation in picking one of several genres may test other viewers’ patience. It’s also an ambiguity that places far more emphasis than usual on the ending to solve the nature of the story itself, more so than a film that delivers on its premise throughout. Is this magical realism? Is it psychological thrills? The 9th Life of Louis Drax ends up more perplexing than anything else—maybe a realistic tale but one told with so much storytelling style that it feels supernatural.

  • Night of the Creeps (1986)

    Night of the Creeps (1986)

    (On Cable TV, May 2020) While Night of the Creeps may not quite be among the very best 1980s blends of horror and comedy, it’s certainly in the top tier. It begins with an homage prologue to 1950s horror films before moving to “present day” 1980s and a sorority/fraternity party that turns ugly when parasitic alien slug-like creatures show up to transform everyone into zombies that then explode to birth more slugs. Whew. Everyone in this production, but none more than writer-director Fred Dekker and veteran character Tom Atkins, are treating this with the mixture of genre reverence and self-aware humour that the material deserves. The result is quite entertaining—sometimes funny, sometimes gross, but never too gross to erase the fun nor too comic to trivialize the horror. Clichés abound and many characters die, but the entire thing remains good fun all the way to the end. Night of the Creeps is more than worth a look if you’re going through 1980s horror and have already watched the big hitters of the decade.

  • Darken (2017)

    Darken (2017)

    (On Cable TV, May 2020) The dumbest movie trend of the 2010s, following the runaway success of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, was this single-minded determination to start massive interconnected projects without having the substance to back it up. But what’s hilarious when big studios do it (as with the multiple reboots of the Universal Monsters franchise) gets downright pathetic when it’s tried by filmmakers who have neither the means nor the skills to do it justice. Darken, a Canadian movie made in Canada with a Canadian cast and crew for Canadian audiences watching Canadian cable channels in their home in Canada (I’m Canadian, I can poke fun at CanCon) is about as low-budget as those attempts can be—a mysterious setup, miserable sets, a complete lack of conclusion and a promise that everything will continue in another follow-up (which, as of three years later, does not exist and most likely won’t ever) It almost gets at something in a plot that is both vague and obvious—obvious in having a hero overthrow a murderous cult, vague in a fantastic setting that is almost interestingly justified, but then dropped in the middle of a trite science-fiction coda that’s not intended to provide a resolution. (Followed by a post-credit sequence that’s more likely to make anyone groan than to intrigue.) Darken may be slightly more ambitious than your usual cheap SF film, but that only ends up creating more frustration when it doesn’t explore its own premise. Of the actors, only Olunike Adeliyi is good enough to keep her dignity. I seldom try to convince readers not to watch a film, but do yourself a favour and skip Darken—it’s bad enough by itself, and becomes pitiable because it thought it was good enough to lead to follow-ups.

  • Die Sehnsucht der Veronika Voss [Veronika Voss] (1982)

    Die Sehnsucht der Veronika Voss [Veronika Voss] (1982)

    (On Cable TV, May 2020) I had to make my way to Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s filmography at one point or another, despite my misgivings about engaging with a filmmaker often described as dour and depressing. At least I’m getting representative work with Veronika Voss, as it tracks the downfall of a former actress with a Nazi past against the backdrop of 1955 Berlin. Add a sports journalist as confidante and lover, as well as a devious neurologist as antagonist and, in theory, you have the ingredients of a good thriller. Alas, this should have been quite a bit better. The pacing is deathly dull and there’s little propulsive narrative drive to it all. This being said, there are a few touches of directing that I liked—unusual screen transitions, and a striking use of black-and-white aesthetics: in a few scenes, our protagonist is the only dark shape in mostly-white environments, clearly highlighting how out of place he is. Still, I found Veronika Voss unnecessarily long, even at less than two hours, and making little use out of promising plot elements.

  • A Guy Named Joe (1943)

    A Guy Named Joe (1943)

    (On Cable TV, May 2020) There’s an unusual blend of elements at work in A Guy Named Joe—a mixture of wartime propaganda, supernatural events, romantic triangle and interesting performers. If you’re coming at this film from first having seen its 1989 remake Always, they it’s going to be pretty much the same things, flaws and qualities included. What’s good about it is the same, and what’s annoying (a reluctance to really lean on the supernatural possibilities of its premise) is the same as well. The indirect actions by the ghostly character on the living are both charming and frustrating in equal measure. At least Spencer Tracy (in full aw-shuck everyman yet skilled professional), Irene Dunne and Van Johnson (in a hard-fought role) are all quite good as the points of the triangle. To its credit, A Guy Named Joe is more than your usual wartime propaganda film, and Dalton Trumbo’s script is finely crafted. Some good special effects (for the time) help round up the picture. I don’t particularly love it, but maybe I would have said otherwise had I seen this first, and Always second.

  • Thief (1981)

    Thief (1981)

    (In French, On TV, May 2020) You can take a look at Thief and not immediately get how many things had to come together in exactly the right way for it to succeed. First up, you have writer-director Michael Mann in his feature-film debut, taking a few years of experience doing TV and applying a meticulous eye for detail at this drama featuring a master thief trying to get out of the business. There’s also the cinematography proper to an early Bruckheimer production, making splendid use of darkness and light to heighten what could have been handled as just another thriller. You’ve got James Caan, also precise in the way he plays a professional safecracker with an almost abstract idea of what he would do once away from the outlaw lifestyle. It features an able performance from Willie Nelson, as well as the big-screen debut of James Belushi and Dennis Farina. You have exact technical details, a strong sense of place for Chicago, some strong neo-noir style, plenty of elements anticipating Mann’s later movies (Heat, notably), and enough sordid details that not everything is settled by the film’s end. Thief is a strong debut for Mann, an intense role for Caan, and a great throwback watch for twenty-first century viewers.

  • McLintock! (1963)

    McLintock! (1963)

    (On Cable TV, May 2020) Considering how little I like John Wayne either as an actor or as a personality, my less-than-impressed reaction to McLintock! is entirely predictable. Wayne isn’t good enough of an actor to play comedy, especially slapstick comedy, and finding that he had much to do in imposing the film’s more retrograde aspects (which includes spanking the heroine for her independence and also for the audience’s laughter) certainly did me no favours. Wayne (whose company produced the film) finds himself irresistible as a fanny-spanking straight-talk anti-government mildly-idiotic protagonist, and thinks that the height of humour is pushing people down a muddy slide. Sure, there’s Maureen O’Hara as a Technicolor redhead that’s worth watching… but overlong McLintock! gets worse every moment that Wayne is on-screen. I’m sure that your enjoyment of the film will be higher if you actually like racist misogynistic Wayne… but why?