Author: Christian Sauvé

  • Godzilla: King of the Monsters (2019)

    Godzilla: King of the Monsters (2019)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2020) That new Monsterverse series is really going in all directions. I was lukewarm on the Godzilla reboot, more enthusiastic about Kong Island, and am back to tepid positivity about Godzilla: King of the Monsters. This sequel goes for volume rather than quantity, leaving viewers exhausted by the end of it. Holding little back from the kaiju bestiary, it also multiplies the characters (most of them played by known actors) and goes for several set-pieces from the beginning of the film onward. It’s big-budget blockbuster filmmaking all right, but there’s an argument that it’s too much, goes on for too long and features too much stuff. It’s as if we skipped a movie between Godzilla and this—although you can argue that Godzilla: King of the Monsters is merely a step up to the Kong versus Godzilla film that the coda sets up. It’s not too clear where things are going otherwise—as much as I enjoy bits and pieces of the “Monarch” mythology being set up here in an attempt to make kaijus credible to twenty-first century audiences, it’s also clear that a lot of stuff is being made up as the films accumulate—it looks as if we’re going to explore the hollow earth next, which may or may not work. Acting-wise, the highlight is Bradley Whitford’s character, while Vera Farmiga as a mad scientist is not something I was expecting. On a happier note, Boston is the city that gets trashed this time around (including the John Hancock building): while I do like Boston a lot, it’s one of the few cities that could be improved by wiping it clean and redoing the street plan. That happy thought aside, Godzilla: King of the Monsters may end up being made stronger or weaker on the basis of its follow-up: a good development of the ideas here may rehabilitate it somewhat, while a bad one could make the film seem even less significant. And so it goes with those new franchises desperately downplaying the individual film aspect—you never know what you’re going to get, except in those cases where they get so bad that audiences stop flocking to them.

  • The Stuff (1985)

    The Stuff (1985)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, January 2020) If you’re familiar with writer-director Larry Cohen’s 1970s–1980s filmography, then The Stuff makes complete sense. Everyone else, though… be ready for a wild ride. Avowedly more satirical than horrifying, the movie revolves around a creamy-white substance oozing from the ground that is quickly marketed as America’s latest dessert sensation… until it turns people into mindless zombies. The commentary on consumerism may be a bit too obvious by now, but the B-movies goodness of seeing people consume and being consumed by the white stuff still remains a lot of fun. The Stuff squarely goes for the rich and still-untapped vein of what can be called social horror—in which everyone is doing things that are harmful to everyone. It also goes in places seldom seen in horror, such as industrial settings and possible complicity in the upper echelons of business. All good stuff, if you’ll pardon the expression. But even if The Stuff can remain a cult favourite, it’s still a bit too messy to be as effective as it could be. Even discounting the satirical intention, the plotting is messy and doesn’t sustain a lot of scrutiny. The zigzagging plot could have used some rigour, and the ending doesn’t quite knock it out of the park. Still, it’s memorable for more or less the right reasons: being dissatisfied with the narrative should not stop anyone from seeing The Stuff it its madcap glory.

  • Winchester ’73 (1950)

    Winchester ’73 (1950)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, January 2020) There’s something interesting in that the film credited with jump-starting James Stewart’s run of 1950s Westerns is one that thematically delves into one of the central symbols of the western: the gun. Titled for the gun, revolving around the gun, propelled by the gun, almost entirely focused on the gun, Winchester ’73 both plays on the attraction of the gun and comments on how crazy it is that such an object could lead to murderous passion. This tension serves the film well, especially since it also applies to the redefinition of James Stewart into a rougher, more disillusioned persona—perhaps reflecting the lasting echoes of a war that left no one innocent, perhaps simply acknowledging one of the phase transitions that actors with long careers must face. This ended up being the first of eight collaborations between director Anthony Mann and James Stewart, many of them westerns that started asking questions about the mythology of the west. The film may star Stewart, but the plot favours the gun—the protagonist wins it in a shooting contest early on, then spends the rest of the film trying to get it back from a thief and everyone else who wants the gun for themselves. It’s rich thematic material even if the film doesn’t quite have the sophistication (or the guts) to fully explore what it means. Still, what Winchester ’73 does for its time is quite remarkable. There’s a near-mystical quality given to the titular gun and to all guns in general, even the Native American characters lusting after them as much as the white characters. All of this is accomplished with a big budget and good production values, meaning that the film remains interesting even if you’re not interested in digging into its meaning. Stewart is also remarkable, taking on a darker role with relish. Opinions are split as to whether this or later movies are the best of the Mann/Stewart era, but even as a first effort Winchester ’73 is worth a look.

  • Society (1989)

    Society (1989)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, January 2020) When a crazy body-horror comedy takes on a title like Society, it’s a fair bet that we’re in for a much wilder ride than a simple late-1980s slasher. Conflating society-at-large with a specific secret society of nameless horrors in Los Angeles’ upper class, this is a film that follows the growing horror of a young disaffected man who comes to suspect that there’s something far more sinister than anyone would expect behind closed doors. Director Brian Yuzna takes sheer delight is messing with his audience early and often, playing the uncanny discomfort along with the gaslighting, the uncertainly about what is really happening and the disquieting soundtrack. Society, among other problems, arguably overplay sits hand early on, leading to frayed nerves and disbelief well before the first hour is through. By the time our misfit-with-issues protagonist (a fitting character for a teenager who doesn’t even feel he’s part of his own family) sees impossible things through a shower door, or a hand that should not be where a hand should be, it’s easy to doubt everything in the film. But Society does redeem itself with one of the craziest ending sequences of its decade (which is saying a lot)—a nightmare of pulsating flesh, ultra-dark humour, surrealism, social criticism, terrifying makeup effects, and existential invitations to annihilation into the whole. It’s a lot, and perhaps the worst about Society is also the best: This is a lot to take in and the execution of the film isn’t slick enough to do it all justice. Yuzna’s first-time direction is a bit of a mess with disorienting transitions and I’m not sure that the much-discussed ending actually sticks the landing in carrying the film’s themes to completion. Despite its faults, though, I am fascinated, seduced and amused by Society. It’s certainly kinky and sexy—although keep in mind that, having come of age in the late-1980s, I will always be partial to the kinds of hairstyles and clothing shown here—There are some nice bikini bunnies here, and Devin Devasquez is nothing short of whew. (I really would not have minded if the Big Secret was just some kind of weird sex cult without the body horror, but I guess that’s just me.) The other thing I really like about Society is that it seldom forgets to be funny. The final sequence is disgusting but not repulsive due to some well-placed touches of off-beat humour, and the film is very much aware of just how transgressive it’s trying to be. The ending is unexpectedly happy for the protagonist and his friends, which works in one way while not working in others. Anyway— I suspect I’m going to revisit Society within a few years, because there’s a lot to unpack here and I feel as if I’m just done with the essentials.

  • Sex and the Single Girl (1964)

    Sex and the Single Girl (1964)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2020) The sex comedy subgenre of the early-to-mid-1960s has not aged well at all, and yet it remains curiously irresistible. I could watch several of those films one after the other—the only thing stopping me is that I would run out of them too quickly. So it is that Sex and the Single Girl has both a prime-era Tony Curtis and a spectacular stockings-clad Natalie Wood battling it out romantically against the dual backgrounds of psychiatry and Manhattan magazine publishing. (I strongly suspect that this was one of the main sources of inspiration for 2003’s pastiche Down with Love.) Having Henry Fonda and a gorgeous Lauren Bacall in supporting roles really doesn’t hurt either, even if their roles are underwritten. While the film itself does miss several comic opportunities and could have been more sharply written, there’s a lot of fun to be had simply plunging into the film’s atmosphere, rediscovering relics from another time (gags from coin-operated devices?) and enjoying the naughty-but-not-vulgar style of that era’s guiltless sex comedies. Pure wholesome fun is the special glue holding these films together despite their specific weaknesses. Wood’s Audrey-Hepburnesque qualities are in full display here, and Curtis is at his most Curtisesque all the way to a reference to Some Like it Hot. While the film could have been written more carefully, there’s a deliberate approach to its idiot-plot structure, with misunderstandings and misdirection between characters growing bigger and wilder every minute, climaxing with a consciously self-aware highway climax that’s a pack-and-a-half of logistics to juggle. By the time the characters are all chomping down on pretzels, it’s all non-stop joy that ends remarkably well. I could certainly go for another film much like Sex and the Single Girl right now. A shame they’re not making them like this any more, even with the disappointing writing.

  • The Last Dragonslayer (2016)

    The Last Dragonslayer (2016)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2020) It’s always a treat to see a movie adaptation of a favourite author’s novels—even if you haven’t read that specific novel. I should explain that while I read nearly all of Jasper Fforde’s pre-2010 output, my reading regimen fell off a cliff after that date, and I haven’t necessarily placed Fforde’s Young-Adult output on my priority reading list since then. Still—Fforde’s wild imagination deserves more attention, and even a low-budget TV movie is a way to experience his trademark style in a different way. Let’s get the obvious out of the way—as a modestly budgeted TV show tackling a fantasy story set in a world where the modern flirts with the magical, The Last Dragonslayer is not without technical issues, dodgy special effects (although roughly on par with 1996’s Dragonheart, so there’s that), awkward cost-cutting cinematography and less-than-stellar technical credentials. But even in that framework, the film punches above its weight. The Fforde-infused imagination certainly helps, as part of the film’s fun is plunging into an alternate reality that accommodates the Internet and dragons at once. Ellise Chappell is quite appealing as the titular dragonslayer who’s not all that keen on escaping a modest upbringing to be asked to go kill a dragon she has no quarrels with. The film’s takes on familiar fantasy tropes in a world that blends modern tropes with the traditional ones is a lot of fun, and it comes with a healthy dose of satire that harkens back to Jasper’s earlier adult novels. There are links here with The Boy Who Would be King—both would make an excellent double feature. I’m not sure someone will ever dare consider tackling Fforde’s other novels to the big screen, but The Last Dragonslayer is quite nice for what it is.

  • The Symbol of the Unconquered (1920)

    The Symbol of the Unconquered (1920)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2020) It’s easy to become fascinated by the few surviving movies of Oscar Michaux, the first black film mogul. He was making, as early as the 1910s, movies by and for black audiences, with an uncompromising point of view. Most astonishing of all is how tenuously his movies are still with us today—The Symbol of the Unconquered, for instance, has survived a hundred years thanks to a single copy found in Europe, in another language. It’s rough, of course, but the restored and back-translated film holds fascination as much for what it represents than what it is. Justly conceived as an answer to the massively-seen (and just as massively-racist) film The Birth of a Nation, it’s a film that squarely aims at the newly-resurgent KKK and features an appealing black couple fighting back against the racist whites. (Well, they’re not a couple at the time—among other issues tackled by the dense 54-minute film are considerations of self-image when passing white.)  It’s always satisfying to see racists get their comeuppance as worthy targets of scorn, but there’s an added resonance in seeing such a thing in a 1920 movie. The film is not, to be said, that good by itself—there are weird tangents, rough technical issues, and they weren’t able to rescue the entire film from that single European copy—the climactic defeat of the KKK isn’t shown, for instance. Still, the passion is there, Iris Hall looks wonderful, and the film actually stands for something. Countless digital copies of The Symbol of the Unconquered now exist (even from the film’s Wikipedia page) and hopefully we’ll never get close again to the possibility of losing this film.

  • A Letter to Three Wives (1949)

    A Letter to Three Wives (1949)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2020) The best and truest thing anyone can still say about A Letter to Three Wives is that it’s really clever—it’s a straight-up domestic drama, but it’s structured in such an irresistible way (a letter is sent by a woman of ill repute to three wives, telling them that she’s run off with one of their husbands… and then the flashbacks and suspense begin) that it feels a great deal more dramatic than had it been more classically structured. It’s all from writer-director Joseph L. Mankiewicz, which made me think—have I ever seen anything from him that wasn’t interesting? (Good, not necessarily, but uninteresting?) The distinctive premise is a great hook, but once you add the unusual structure, the sharply-written characters, the exceptional bon mots and the beautiful rendition of the late-1940s, it’s a spectacular movie. There’s some sex appeal too—Linda Darnelle looks amazing in that glowing Classic Hollywood studio sheen, and a young Kirk Douglas gets a few good moments as a fed-up schoolteacher. You can even use the film as a prism to look at the fractures in the American institution of marriage in the immediate postwar era. But we always go back to the writing, the strong mystery at the heart of the story—Who is that Addie Ross woman, so perfect and beloved by all three husbands? Unexpectedly enough given its world-weary nature, the film even delivers a happy ending of sorts. It’s all wrapped up in terrific narration, even is it steps out of the film’s strict realism. A Letter to Three Wives is remarkably good even for those who don’t care too much for mainstream dramas—a testament to the power of great writing. [August 2021: Wait, The Simpsons lifted an entire episode’s premise off this film? It’s a TV show that has always had surprising depth to its movie references, but even for them, that’s a deep cut.]

  • Father’s Little Dividend (1951)

    Father’s Little Dividend (1951)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, January 2020) If you’re still annoyed at how Steve Martin (or rather Nancy Meyers) screwed up 1995’s Father of the Bride Part II, I’ve got mixed news for you. For one thing, Martin and Meyer weren’t completely making it up by themselves—the sequel was also a remake of 1951’s Father’s Little Divided, with the main plot (the father of the bride becomes a grandfather; angst ensues) inevitably making up the main arc of the follow-up. The good news is that the 1951 film wisely stopped there—there wasn’t a ludicrous subplot about the wife of the father of the bride becoming pregnant at 49, and that’s for the better. Focusing on the original does highlight how much the remake mishandled fundamental elements. Here, the essence of the film remains a universal experience—how do men go through the perception shift of thinking of themselves as grandfathers? Once again, Spencer Tracy makes for the perfect everyman going through a universally relatable scenario. Meanwhile, Elizabeth Taylor is cute but slightly wasted in the role of a young expectant mother—the focus, unfortunately, is squarely on her father without much interest in what she’s going through. While generally likable and still resonant, the film doesn’t equal its predecessor and highlights how values have shifted in the decades since then—the last set-piece of the film before its happy ending (grandpa losing a baby due to inattentiveness) is now nothing short of hair-raising, and that may stop some viewers from embracing the result entirely. (Still, that scene is notable for one interesting constant—Grandpa doesn’t become grandpa at his grandson’s birth, but later on once his self-image catches up to the events.) Still, the film survives this plotting bump thanks to Tracy’s always-sympathetic performance and some warm direction from Vincente Minelli. It may not be enough to smooth over the 1950s attitudes so prevalent here—there’s a lot of “well, accounting for the times…” required to get to the universality of the film. Still, my bold theory is that the 1951 film is still more relatable than the frantic 1995 remake that didn’t trust itself to tell a simple story without making it a frantic two-ring circus. If you’re going to make a film about a rite of passage for older men, why not focus on that? One final piece of trivia that may escape modern viewers: Father’s Little Dividend was released less than a year after Father of the Bride: a breakneck production pace that may explain why this sequel doesn’t quite rise to the level of the first film despite a good attempt.

  • Titanic (1953)

    Titanic (1953)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, January 2020) Most movies are released, seen, discussed and then slowly fade away from memory. A few have the arguably worse fate of permanently being overshadowed by a sequel or remake. While the 1953 version of Titanic wasn’t necessarily remade by the blockbusting 1997 version, there’s only so many ways you can tell the same story, and so both movies will remain forever linked. It’s certainly not the only “earlier version” of the Titanic story (Wikipedia helpfully lists at least three more of those films made prior to 1953), but it’s the one with the most star power, what with Barbara Stanwyck and a very young Robert Wagner in the cast. It’s also one with the bigger budgets, although that money did not stretch to cover historical accuracy—there are significant issues here in terms of factual history, which is highlighted by some generic subplots running through the film in typical Hollywood fashion. The drama is staid, but it does have its moments. Special effects are fair for the time, which may not pass muster today. Considering the film’s context, unflattering comparisons with the 1997 version may not wrong, but they may be misguided—this was blockbuster filmmaking in the early 1950s, and you can almost feel the wheels turning toward the kind of wide-scale spectacle that would be popular toward the end of the decade. A better comparison is with the near-contemporary but superior 1958 film A Night to Remember.

  • Qimen Dunjia [The Thousand Faces of Dunjia] (2017)

    Qimen Dunjia [The Thousand Faces of Dunjia] (2017)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, January 2020) I hadn’t seen a wuxia fantasy film in a while, and that probably explains why I enjoyed The Thousand Faces of Dunjia so much despite it being difficult to follow and overwhelmed by bad CGI rather than practical action. It certainly has good credentials from the get-go, what with writer-director Tsui Hark and director Yuen Woo-ping—and a potentially rich formula in hand in building a fantasy action film. If it works, it’s on energy and speed more than on wit and finesse: the story about an adventurer fighting magical monsters is simple enough to follow, but (maybe because of subtitles) the moment-to-moment continuity of the plot can be challenging at times. More troublesome are the film’s tonal issues oscillating between very serious fantasy drama and much goofier comedy gags. When it comes to the visual effects, it’s a bit of a mixed bag as well: while there’s something interesting in seeing opening credits and chapter titles integrated in the environment inhabited by the characters, most of the film’s CGI is bad to the point of looking like pre-visualization attempts rather than polished special effects. This being said, there is a lot of such CGI exuberance, and it does lend some energy to the result. The pacing of the film is uneven, but the wild imagination is there and so there’s something to see every five minutes, guaranteed. Plus, there’s Dongyu Zhou as Circle and Ni Ni as Dragonfly to keep things interesting. It’s regrettable that The Thousand Faces of Dunjia is not that good a martial arts film given the amount of CGI and monsters, but there are fights enough to fill the two hours of the movie. It may not be the best of that subgenre, but it’s entertaining enough to be satisfying.

  • Missing (1982)

    Missing (1982)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, January 2020) To anyone used to Jack Lemmon’s comic body of work, it can be jarring to see him at work in Missing, a film about as humourless as any can be. Here, Lemmon plays an American businessman travelling to Chile an unnamed country after a coup to investigate his son’s disappearance. He teams up with his son’s wife, but their relationship does not start harmoniously and it’s further tested as their investigations either produce no results, or lead them to darker and darker certainties. Eventually, writer-director Costa-Gavras, working from real events, accuses the US government of complicity in the coup and the numerous deaths that ensued. Missing is absolutely not a happy movie: the atmosphere of a post-coup authoritarian country is utterly nightmarish, and the central mystery at the heart of the film has a merciless resolution. Lemmon, as one could expect, is quite good in a much darker role than usual, channelling righteous anger as he portrays a father looking for his only child. Alongside him, Sissy Spacek is also quite good in a more difficult role designed to clash with the older man. (Both of them earnest Academy Awards nominations for their roles) Where Missing stumbles is in not focusing tightly on the story it wants to tell—Costa-Gravas is a bit too self-satisfied and goes on numerous tangents (the opening twenty minutes, for starters) that don’t necessarily improve the result. Still, Missing is a film with weight, anger, and a thick atmosphere you’ll yearn to escape.

  • Pulse (2006)

    Pulse (2006)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, January 2020) I like a lot of what Pulse attempts to do—namely, blend the technological with the supernatural and poke around at some of the fears of the information age. The dead possessing the living using technology—that’s still a great premise: someone should make a movie about it. Alas, Pulse aims for the lowest common horror movie denominator, and by that, I mean a teenage audience, with a by-the-numbers execution that barely scratches the potential of its premise. The good ideas (and a few good visuals) don’t last long, as the college-age characters run around screaming. Christina Milan does look great—but she’s only in the movie for a moment. Otherwise, Pulse is so conventional that it becomes boring considering the random scares: there’s no discipline to director Jim Sonzero’s approach. The mid-2000s patina of the film is obvious not only in the technology being used, but also the constant bathing of everything in blue light. Sure, Pulse can be worth a chuckle or two at the way it completely drowns the potential of its premise into generic horror clichés… but there are other better movies that should be watched before this one.

  • Village of the Damned (1995)

    Village of the Damned (1995)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On DVD, January 2020) If you’re a horror fan, the 1995 remake of Village of the Damned should be somewhere on your long list of things to see—if only to see how famed director John Carpenter would take on the task of modernizing the classic 1960 film. Predictably, the result is decent… while remaining quite a bit less than the original. Still, let’s recognize that Carpenter at least has the chops to make the film slightly more accessible than the sometimes-cold original, and that, from a distance of 25 years, the mid-1990s setting is fast becoming a period piece in its own right. The result can boast of an intriguing cast—Kirstie Alley is fine as a hard-driven scientist, and it’s fun to see both Christopher Reeves and Mark Hamill in roles away from the best-known characters. (As it happened, this was the last film that Reeves completed before the horse accident that left him paraplegic.) Carpenter fans will recognize this as middle-tier work from someone who had mastered horror directing at this point in his career—it’s suspenseful and atmospheric, but also slightly ridiculous and at times too gory (but not always). The rescue subplot at the very end is troublesome, considering that it messes with something that should not be messed with. Still, while it may not reach the heights of Carpenter’s best work, Village of the Damned is still a serviceable little chiller that can be watched easily—and it’s probably more interesting now than it was upon release.

  • Janghwa, Hongryeon [A Tale of Two Sisters] (2003)

    Janghwa, Hongryeon [A Tale of Two Sisters] (2003)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, January 2020) Arguably the breakthrough feature for South Korean writer-director Kim Jee-woon, A Tale of Two Sisters is a psychological thriller that feels completely at ease alongside much of the work from Jee-woon’s contemporaries. (Compare and contrast with Stoker and The Handmaiden, for instance.) It’s delicate, gruesome, violent, ambiguous, meditative and twisted. It takes place in a peaceful rural setting, but features spectacularly warped characters and an intricate backstory that is slowly teased then revealed throughout the third act. It’s a bit of gotcha-cinema (although made at a time when such things weren’t as much of clichés as they are now) and it seldom holds back for shock value, heralding some of the far more violent movies in Jee-woon’s later filmography. As a psychological thriller, it faithfully holds dear to the notion that there should be long stretches of silence in its first half, and plenty of screaming in the second—plus hallucinations and supernatural phenomena just to make things even more complicated. A Tale of Two Sisters is really not a bad movie, but viewers may have a hard time getting and staying interested—especially if you’re not a big fan of twisty psychological thrillers or, on the flip side, have seen too many of them already.