Author: Christian Sauvé

  • Hero (1992)

    Hero (1992)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) What I like best about Hero is the way it engages with a question that most would rather avoid—the nature of heroism. Especially in movies, where heroism is the kind of pillar value of spectacular entertainment. Movies are not where regular people live—it’s where we get to indulge in idealized characters doing things that go beyond the ordinary. Accordingly, it’s refreshing to see the film focus around a small-scale criminal who suddenly finds himself in a position to perform an act of undeniable heroism—even as he uses the situation to his advantage. The ethical questions that follow are fascinating and rarely explored—weighing public perception versus private intentions, feelings of shame and further complications. It’s fertile material, even if Hero doesn’t quite manage to execute its material in better-than-average fashion. There’s a lack of focus to the film that eventually makes it feel longer than it should (even at 112 minutes), with its philosophical questioning more diffuse than it would have been in a more concise format. There’s a lot to like in Dustin Hoffman’s lead performance, though—under Stephen Frears’ direction, he’s able to take on a thankless role with a great deal of panache—I wonder how many A-list actors without Hoffman’s dramatic background would have been willing to take on such an inglorious role. There’s a decent depth to the supporting casting, all the way to numerous uncredited cameos. Hero’s not a perfect film, but it does ask unusual questions and manages an honest result despite a number of missed opportunities.

  • The Mule (2018)

    The Mule (2018)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) There’s something in the air about older movie stars not quite wanting to face down retirement. So, we get The Old Man and the Gun, and The Mule, about older men turning to crime. The similarities are uncanny, with both films (inspired by true stories) showing legendary movie stars playing old guys using their charm to get away with things that old people really shouldn’t be doing, and featuring the criminals unknowingly interacting with their police pursuers. But while Robert Redford may push it to charmingly flirt with bank tellers in The Old Man and the Gun, Eastwood here can’t help but cast himself cavorting with women young enough to be his granddaughters (usually two of them at once). Ah well—what’s the use of being a Hollywood celebrity director if you can’t engineer yourself a threesome? Even though The Mule follows the usual formula, it does invite scrutiny: Eastwood, notoriously conservative, tries to have it both ways by showing how one can personally benefit from crime until it becomes dangerous, while also tut-tutting younger generations wasting their lives in a cycle of crime and violence. (This is called “hypocrisy,” and it is indeed a central feature of modern American conservatism.)  There are a few sops here to Eastwood’s old-guy crankiness, from “There’s something wrong with you, kids” to motorcyclists who won’t take his advice and so on. It does occur to me that we’re in sore need for a further subcategorization of what it means to be “old”—Sixty may be the new fifty, but when you have Eastwood pushing ninety, that’s an entirely different ball game. Every film of his may be the last, and The Mule at least has the distinction of being quite a bit better (and enjoyable) than the much maligned The 3:17 p.m. to Paris. [April 2022: Peeking from the future, I also note a similarity between The Mule and Cry Macho, which will probably keep going for as long as Eastwood casts himself in tough-guy roles.]  Even despite the issues and flaws and contrivances, I did still like The Mule—it’s a fun crime caper that features an unusual character, and I have a hunch that despite my having some issues with Eastwood-the-man, I’m going to miss him when he’s gone. But I have a feeling he’s going to die with his boots on, on a movie set.

  • The Corporate Coup d’État (2019)

    The Corporate Coup d’État (2019)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) There’s some precious irony in having some of the best documentaries about the sorry state of (North-) American society being financed by Canadian tax dollars. But after All Governments Lie and now The Corporate Coup d’État, Fred Peabody is clearly establishing himself as a clear-eyed chronicler of the many forces making things worse in today’s world. The central thesis of the film, as per its title, is in describing how politics are increasingly subordinate to corporate interests in setting policy, especially with laws that demonstrably benefit no one but a few corporations. But it’s impossible to present such a thesis without plenty of tangential topics to support the main argument, and that’s how we find ourselves discussing the opioid epidemic as evidence of generalized despair, excessive imprisonment used as social control mechanism more than individual punishment (let alone rehabilitation), and state violence not being used except overseas and in the inner city, as per police brutality riots. Much of the film’s thesis is not new nor all that revolutionary—Canadians will note that it, and the film’s title, comes from a 1995 book by John Ralston Saul, whose achievement since then include being the husband of the country’s Governor General. Much of the film uses a mixture of on-screen titles, news footage (sometimes used ironically—The CBC comes in for a few shots), on-the-ground reporting (not as intellectually heady but viscerally illustrative of the thesis—the foreclosure sequence is particularly poignant) and interviews with notables such as Ralston Saul, Cornel West, Matt Taibbi and quite a bit of Chris Hedges. Much of the film is quite convincing, showing that the 1995 thesis has been fully realized and illustrated by the past twenty-five years. Still, I can’t help but poke at a few moments of the film. One idea worth exploring would have been the centralization of wealth in the Internet age, for instance. I also wanted to hear more about the idea that Obama’s election caused an increase in corporate messaging to undermine his political support. Perhaps more crucially, I’m really not all that happy about the “both sides” rhetoric that finds its way in the text: it’s demonstrably not true, and it feeds into hopelessness rather than activism. (As that other noted Canadian intellectual Rick Mercer once ranted, choosing the lesser evil is really important.)  Still, it’s quite an interesting documentary: It guns for big ideas, and finds plenty of material to illustrate its argument. It’s also far more entertaining than you’d expect: Perhaps the biggest treat in The Corporate Coup d’État is seeing West and Ralston Raul have a tea and chat about how to save the world. Considering this and a rather good envoi, the film doesn’t end quite as bleakly as you could expect from its glum subject matter.

  • Union Pacific (1939)

    Union Pacific (1939)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) I’m not sure how much we twenty-first century sophisticates truly understand the meaning and importance of the first coast-to-coast railway. To put in modern context, it was akin to building the first highway and the first Internet link throughout the country at the same time. The first transcontinental railway (1869 in the United States, 1886 in Canada) did as much to tie the country together as any law. It standardized time, facilitated the mobility of labour, ended the wild frontier, improved the flow of news and information—all things that we now take for granted. We may never be able to fully appreciate that it meant then, but at least there are movies like Union Pacific to make us appreciate the details of how it was done. Focusing on a troubleshooter for a railroad company, this is a film that takes a look at the nitty-gritty of building such a revolutionary endeavour, from shooing away undesirables that prey on railroad workers, to the logistics of keeping such a group of workers fed and productive, to negotiations with the native tribes. Joel McCrea plays the troubleshooter, bringing his usual charisma to the part and helping to humanize a complex subject. Barbara Stanwyck plays the love interest, while you can see (or rather hear) Robert Preston and Anthony Quinn in the supporting cast. But this is director Cecil B. de Mille’s film—an expansive, spectacular subject matter that never misses a chance to stage a large-scale action sequence. While the film does regrettably rely on native attacks as a pretext to action scenes, it does spend more time than was usual back in 1939 showing how those attacks were motivated by the white businessmen breaking their promises to the tribes. Union Pacific is my kind of western—not a celebration of the wild frontier using the usual macho tropes of the genre, but a study in how civilization spread throughout the land and closed the frontier. Some film historians point to this film and Stagecoach as when the Western grew up, but I can only testify as to the interest that it created and sustained over a two-hours-and-fifteen minutes running time: It’s a fascinating railway procedural, and it manages to have a nice human edge to it.

  • Splendor in the Grass (1961)

    Splendor in the Grass (1961)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) I’m not a big fan of small-town dramas, but there are two or three things that make Splendor in the Grass worth a look. The first is the most obvious: the casting. With Natalie Wood and Warren Beatty in the lead, there’s additional interest that other movies with lesser-known actors may not have. The other is more subtle, but with its premise turning around the dilemmas experienced by two circa-1928 teenagers dealing with romance, sex, and future prospects, you can feel the film trying to say something about the changing perception of teenagers as of 1961. Splendor in the Grass, directly written for the big screen, is nonetheless messy in ways that originally scripted movies usually aren’t: At times, with its time skips and changes of situation, it feels like an adaptation of a novel being overly slavish to the source material. There are a few melodramatic junctions that stretch the bounds of a believable drama, but so it goes. Director Eliza Kazan was trying for something more than comforting formula here, and the result manages to transcend specific time or place. But even if you’re not having any fun seeing the story go where it goes, at least there’s Wood and Beatty delivering early great performances.

  • Zombi Holocaust (1980)

    Zombi Holocaust (1980)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, August 2019) Anyone wondering why I’m even looking at Italian zombie films despite my dislike of the genre should be aware that I’m working to complete a list of popular 1980s movies more than really seeing what I want to see. If I really had my pick, I wouldn’t go anywhere near Zombi Holocaust based on reputation alone, and a viewing of the film only bears this out. Combining two of my least favourite movie genres, this film blends a zombie prologue (as New York City hospital is overrun with zombies) as lead-in to a cannibal motif that uncovers a plot by a mad scientist to bla-bla-bla. I really can’t be bothered by the plot given that director Marino Girolami isn’t particularly interested in it anyway. The point, as is usually the case with circa-1980 Italian horror are the kills, the gore effects and the overall meanness of the film. Zombi Holocaust is truly unpleasant, without any entertainment value, blatantly manipulative (there’s an insistent tone blared whenever something is going on) and of very little cinema history value—at most it’s one more example of what happened when giallo crashed into the 1980s and that’s not an episode that anyone should highlight.

  • Galaxy of Terror (1981)

    Galaxy of Terror (1981)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, August 2019) It will probably cause physical pain to at least one cinephile if I keep comparing Galaxy of Terror to Solyaris, but how else to talk about a science-fiction film in which the alien presence literalizes thoughts out of the characters’ minds? Of course, Galaxy of Terror is an avowed SF/horror hybrid coming from Roger Corman’s low-end exploitation production company: the seemingly clever premise is really a way to string along unconnected scary scenes without much thought regarding consistency or plausibility. It’s not playing fancy or playing nice—the film’s most infamous sequence has an alien worm raping a female character, and the film’s Wikipedia entry spends almost as many words talking about that scene than detailing the plot. One of Galaxy of Terror’s few claims to a place in cinematic history is that James Cameron served as production designer and second-unit director on the film. (He didn’t direct the worm scene — Corman did.)  How you feel about the result will depend, again, on what you compare it to.   It’s more interesting than most of the slasher-horror movies of the moment, but it also feels like a terrible imitation of Alien. It does showcase Corman’s low-budget high-imagination ethos, but that’s not much of a recommendation. Ultimately, Galaxy of Terror is not likely to appeal to Science Fiction fans as much as to horror fans, given that so much of the plot is focused on the terrors rather than the galaxy.

  • The Butler (2013)

    The Butler (2013)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, August 2019) As Hollywood’s portrayal of history grows more nuanced than the simple portrayal of cause-and-effect led by white males, I can understand the irresistible impulse to show events from a different perspective. So it is that something like The Butler was inevitable—a look at American presidents as seen from the one of the black butlers serving the White House, adapted from factual events. With Obama as the officeholder, it seemed like a natural triumphant conclusion to years of post-WW2 racial integration and a way to showcase the American presidency through a very specific lens. Played by Forest Whitaker, Cecil Gaines makes his entrance at the White House in 1957 and goes on to witness history from up close while dealing with various family crises along the way. An incredible cast propels the film forward, with familiar actors imbuing even short scenes with an additional level of interest. The Butler cleverly plays with casting in casting a succession of Very Big Names as the presidents. Director Lee Daniels keeps things moving relatively smoothly through decades of history, especially given how the scope of the story would seem to justify a miniseries. There are, to be sure, some very suspicious contrivances here as nearly every sequence relates to matters of racial issues and the character’s personal family history is woven in for dramatic effect. Daniels isn’t above some good old-fashioned melodrama and pot shots at historical figures, neither of which are necessarily good things in an already-contrived narrative. Still, The Butler is a relatively entertaining film, as much for its sweeping take on racial issues in recent American history as in the ways it chooses to dramatize those issues. It’s far more sobering to realize that post-2013 history has not been as kind to the progress demonstrated in the film with unrepentant white supremacists lodged in the post-Obama White House, but that too will make for a fascinating biopic one of these days, and the bigots won’t win that round either.

  • Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man (1991)

    Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man (1991)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Second Viewing, In French, On TV, August 2019) Now here’s something that younger generations may not understand: there were two solid decades, roughly 1975–1995, where the late 1990s were fiction’s “techno-thriller years”—a time where writers set stories that were a bit like the future but not too much. Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man is a really good example of that: By setting their story forward in 1996, the filmmakers are free to imagine a slightly more dystopian future (no ozone layer!) with stronger corporate control and, crucially for the story, a new synthetic drug. The narrative gets started when two bikers rob an armoured van and end up not with cash but a substantial shipment of drugs that are, of course, property of corrupt corporate executives. As the title suggests, Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man dives deep into the biker outlaw archetype, with Don Johnson and Mickey Rourke showing a much-inflated opinion of themselves as they strut around thinking that they are the epitome of cool. But the film is all attitude and bluster, and not as much fun thirty years later. There are some moments that stand out: Vanessa Williams and Tia Carrere have supporting roles (the first as a singer), the portrayal of mooks in bulletproof long coats seems prophetic of a late-1990s cliché, and there’s an occasional so-bad-it’s-good quality to the over-the-top dialogue and mindless action of the film. It’s also interesting to measure the results against familiar western archetypes, making an argument about bikers being modern cowboys. To be clear, Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man is not good, and nearly everything intriguing about it has been seen elsewhere. You also have to tolerate unearned machismo in order to even get into the film (although the opening monologue from a radio DJ rather efficiently sets the tone). But I’ve seen much, much worse, so at least it’s got that going for it.

  • CNN’s The Movies (2019)

    CNN’s The Movies (2019)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, July-August 2019) As someone who’s working on a book-length film history organized by decades, I had more than a passing interest in seeing how CNN would approach the topic in its flagship documentary production The Movies. Well, it turns out that they divided the topic in six 90-minute specials: Pre-1960, 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, 1990s and 2000+. The decades are obviously chosen to make CNN’s target audience happy, compressing the earlier and later decades in looser groupings. I was a bit disappointed to see both the 2000s and 2010s lumped together, but that does reflect what I’ve been finding in my own attempt to categorize the decades: The 2000s were a fairly dull period in terms of cinematic evolution, whereas I suspect that the dramatic changes of the 2010s (studios focusing exclusively on spectacles, malleable digital reality, the rise of streaming) do not mesh well with the golden-hued nostalgic atmosphere that CNN aimed for. I’m less critical of the lumping of 1910–1959 together for a broadcast aimed at general audiences — I think it’s a fascinating period and that episode of the show did a really good job at pointing out the stars of the time, but I can see why most viewers wouldn’t care for more. I have more serious issues with the overall structure of the 1960s and 1970s shows — I think that the New Hollywood period and its counter-reaction were not sufficiently highlighted, but that may just be me. This being said, The Movies is not a documentary series with a strong structure: within each episode, we get 2–4 minutes segment meant to illustrate various trends and genres within that period, focus on beloved movies, or talk about specific actors. As you’d expect, almost all of the series’ material is either made of clips from the movies or talking heads footage—sometimes historical—featuring actors, directors, film critics and historians (including Drew McWeeney!) discussing the topics at hand. There is no overriding narration nor much in terms of interstitial material, further contributing to the series’ lack of structure. The series is obviously very proud of the people it managed to interview: Predictably, it often focused on superstar actors (Tom Hanks, Julia Roberts, etc.) and directors (Spielberg, Howard) — The actors often come across as mere big-name fans with only superficial contributions (unless they’re talking about acting, in which case they have a few interesting insights), while the directors are reliably more interesting. The critics and historians usually do the heavy work of pulling together the material into coherent mini-theses. The excerpts are chosen well and usually hit the high points of the movies that should be discussed in each decade. It amounts to a series that works as intended — I can certainly argue against some choices, but this is meant as a generalist overview of a century of film and as such is rarely boring. The total length of The Movies is roughly nine hours, and as a quick course on Hollywood movies it’s actually not too bad.

  • Bad Lieutenant (1992)

    Bad Lieutenant (1992)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) In retrospect, Bad Lieutenant is so successful that it almost seems inevitable. If I’m going to put together a thriller in 1992 about a spectacularly corrupt NYPD policeman, of course I’m going to have Abel Ferrara as the director. Of course, I’m going to have Harvey Keitel as the corrupt cop. These choices feel as obvious as having cameras, lighting or catering on set. Ferrara captures filth and degradation like few others, and as Keitel goes around the city abusing his authority, excessively gambling, doing hard drugs and staying ahead of his bookie, it all feels like a carefully controlled nightmare. I don’t usually react well to grime and corruption, but it seems so, um, heartfelt here that it seems more acceptable. Ferrara muse Zoe Lund has a single but striking scene here, and Keitel does fantastic work, especially as his characters takes small steps toward redemption. I don’t usually go for dark and depressing films (of which this is clearly one), but I tolerated Bad Lieutenant better than most because it actually commits and believes not only in its character, but in his subtle redemption arc. I’m still not going to re-watch this for fun any time soon, but that too is a good review in its own way.

  • The Cameraman (1928)

    The Cameraman (1928)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) At his peak, Buster Keaton was a timeless talent, and if The Cameraman is not exactly his finest or funniest film (that would be The General or Sherlock, Jr.), it’s still Keaton in top form, stringing physical gags along a decent-enough plot. Here, we have Keaton playing the kind of earnest but slightly clueless young man out to make a fortune and secure a wife by trying his luck at being a cameraman for MGM newsreels. Switching between courtship in 1920s Manhattan and the comic perils of being a cameraman in the middle of a gangster war, The Cameraman has a stream of physical gags, charming period details, and Keaton keeping a stone-face expression. The premise of the film was later reused for Red Skelton’s Watch the Birdie, but the original film remains the funniest version—no one could (or still can) outdo Keaton. For his fans, The Cameraman is also a bit of a sad junction in his career—his penultimate silent film, and the one where he started losing his independence as a filmmaker, never to return to the heights of his 1923–1928 zenith. Still, never mind that: The Cameraman is a reliably funny film, and one of the few 1920s productions that can still be enjoyed today without compromises.

  • Parlor, Bedroom and Bath (1931)

    Parlor, Bedroom and Bath (1931)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) If you’re used to the classic Buster Keaton silent comedy films, Parlor, Bedroom and Bath will seem a bit odd, because it features … sound. Keaton’s career took a dive after the introduction of sound, but the declining factor was Keaton’s contract with MGM, not sound itself. Proof of Keaton’s ability to amuse with sound can occasionally be found in this bedroom farce that unusually features quite a bit of dialogue from Keaton, and a few brief moments of physical comedy. Even out of his comfort zone, Keaton proves up to the task of being a romantic comedy lead, but it does take a while for the film to get going: after a fairly dull start, Parlor, Bedroom and Bath does get funnier when Keaton gets back to his physical comedy roots. The train crossing shot, for instance, is pure classic Keaton. He even finds an able comic partner with the very tall Charlotte Greenwood—some of the hotel room sequences later in the film are an inspiring mixture of farce and Keaton pratfalls. Alas, it does lead to an abrupt and unsatisfying ending that takes away some of the fun that Parlor, Bedroom and Bath had been building up to that point. The pre-Code origin of the film is obvious from some bedroom farce material that, while tame by today’s standard, wouldn’t have passed muster throughout much of the Hays Code years. It’s not a Keaton classic, but it can be a lot of fun at times, and hearing Keaton talk is a thrill on its own.

  • The Dresser (1983)

    The Dresser (1983)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) It’s often interesting when the movies take a look at a different realm and presents us characters wholly invested in it. With The Dresser, we get to spend some time with a WW2-era theatrical actor and his personal assistant. It’s an unequal but surprisingly codependent relationship: The actor is a wreck when he’s not onstage and obviously needs to have his hand held throughout a nervous breakdown. Meanwhile, our meek assistant is someone who finds his purpose in like in being the manager of an incredible yet incredibly flawed stage legend. As the story begins, we understand the predicament: In trying to deliver Shakespeare to the British countryside even as bombs are falling, our travelling troupe has to contend with destroyed theatres, substandard supporting actors (given that the best are at war) and the personal failings of its star. The theatrical origin of the story is most apparent in its middle section, almost entirely spent in the dressing room as the assistant cajoles a barely functional veteran actor into delivering a performance. There are plenty of theatrical lore details here, enough to create the magic of the theatre and to show the madness that can come with it. The Dresser is a clever film, perhaps a bit too long, certainly excellent in the quality of its dialogues and directed competently by Peter Yates. The ending is as tragic yet appropriate as they come. Albert Finney is impressive as the temperamental, almost crackpot veteran actor, while Tom Courtenay is less flashy but far more interesting as the assistant. It’s not an exceptionally memorable film, but it does offer a fascinating glimpse backstage of a theatrical production held together by mere threads, and as such is likely to fascinate anyone who’s ever been interested or involved in theatre. As a mandatory stop on the Oscar-nominee tour, The Dresser is not a bad experience.

  • Creed II (2018)

    Creed II (2018)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) There isn’t much in Creed II that’s new or surprising. After mining Rocky II in the first Creed, this sequel heads back to Rocky IV for inspiration, bringing back the Russian menace for an encore. The novelty of seeing a competent contemporary take on the Rocky mythos not being as strong in this second instalment, we’re left with another run through the usual rebirth narrative of those films. Director Steven Caple Jr. steps in Ryan Coogler’s shoes and acquits himself decently: even though the bravura filmmaking of the first isn’t as pronounced here, there are a few nice moments along the way, including a reprise of the infamous Rocky IV training montage that doesn’t quite match the original but provide a high point of the film. Otherwise, though, Creed II outmatches Rocky IV in nearly all aspects: The story isn’t as silly, the pacing is better and there aren’t any wacky robotic digressions. Michael B. Jordan turns in another impressive physical performance in the lead role, while Tessa Thompson (now far better-known that she was at the time the original was filmed) once again does well as a character meant to be clearly more than the usual girlfriend character. (She sings!)  Still, and it’s weird to write this, it’s Sylvester Stallone who impresses most in a strictly dramatic age-appropriate performance, providing gravel-voiced gravitas to the protagonist and having a short dramatic arc of his own along the way. Dolph Lundgren also turns in one last great performance, humanizing a stock series villain and offering a number of parallels with Rocky’s own experience. Creed II isn’t innovative in any way, but it is well handled enough to provide an entertaining moviegoing experience. It’s also good enough to somewhat redeem Rocky IV, and that’s another unlikely comeback story.