Author: Christian Sauvé

  • Hollywood Shuffle (1987)

    Hollywood Shuffle (1987)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) There are a few movies out there that are best reviewed after reading about their production. A first uninformed look at Hollywood Shuffle is invariably going to come across as being too harsh on the material. This can be explained by the film’s extremely low-budget, writer-director Robert Townsend’s overriding satirical intentions, and sheer underdog nature of the project (which was financed through credit cards and acting gigs, and took two years to complete in guerilla-style filmmaking conditions). It’s clearly didactic in how it really wants you to understand the problems that faced black actors in 1980s Hollywood, and unapologetic in the ways it gets in your face about it. The result is unequal. With Keenen Ivory Wayans writing part of the script, the humour is very uneven, ranging from classic sequences (such as the one where he imagines a hostile press berating him for not being black enough, or the fantasy movie-review sketch) to more humdrum material. It’s also (especially in hindsight) imperfect in how it tackles inequality—loudly advocating for fewer black stereotypes while indulging in other kinds of stereotyping. I do have a sneaking suspicion that the film is funnier if you know all about life in 1980s Hollywood for black actors: that it’s an inside joke that happened to have wider appeal. Still, in the evolution of black cinema through the decades, there’s clearly a place for Hollywood Shuffle as an eloquent capture of a specific time and place—not that things are necessarily perfect now, but that by the 1980s you could see black cinema go from the superstars à la Eddie Murphy (explicitly referred to here) to a more accessible brand of black cinema. Do remember that Spike Lee had just come out with She’s Gotta Have It in 1986…

  • The Painted Veil (1934)

    The Painted Veil (1934)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) It’s completely unfair to compare a film with another adaptation made decades later, but here we are—I can help but measure the 1934 version of The Painted Veil with the 2006 adaptation of the same novel by W. Somerset Maugham, and being overly critical of the earlier film. There’s some logic to it, though: as a tough drama taking place in a picturesque location, this is a story that benefits from the increased technical sophistication of twenty-first century cinema. The colour cinematography, ethnic-appropriate casting, enhanced sense of place and ability to squarely tackle topics without skirting around censors and impressionable audiences (especially in a film focused on an affair) are undeniable strengths of the later film. What this version has is Greta Garbo in the lead role (admittedly an advantage only if you really like Garbo) and an ending that could be described as a happy one, avoiding the tragic finale of the novel and later adaptation. I’m normally someone who likes happy endings—even to the extent of defending some of the most outrageous ones imposed by Hollywood adaptations—but I can’t muster much enthusiasm for this one, so integral does the tragedy feel to the work. There’s also a fair point to be made that this version seems to be all about Garbo, Garbo, Garbo to the extent of minimizing the work it’s supposed to adapt. It does make an interesting contrast, though—between the studio-bound techniques of the 1930s versus the unlimited palette offered to 2000s filmmakers, between a cast-member taking over the story versus a team effort, between the emphasis that a version can place on sections of the story compared to another. I would have written another review had I not seen the 2006 adaptation of The Painted Veil first, but again—here we are.

  • Welcome Danger (1929)

    Welcome Danger (1929)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) Considering that comedian Harold Lloyd’s career just about straddled the silent and sound era, Welcome Danger is a fascinating case study in how he was forced to transition from one style to the other. He did so reluctantly—after encountering so much success with silent movies, Lloyd could be forgiven so thinking that sound filmmaking would harm his usual fast-paced, visually centred approach to comedy. So it is that, according to the film’s production history, Welcome Danger was first shot as a silent, then (after Lloyd convinced himself that there was no other choice) edited down, partially re-shot and entirely re-dubbed so that it could be presented as a sound film. His qualms were not unjustified—most of Lloyd’s enduring classic films were made during the silent era, with the rest being considered an appendix to his silent body of work. Accordingly, Welcome Danger feels like a decent film, but nothing more—as Lloyd’s “Glasses” character travels to San Francisco to help fight against organized crime, the film mixes in the usual physical comedy, romantic subplot, and specific set-pieces. There’s something not entirely comfortable in the film constantly bringing up San Francisco’s Asian population as the origin of the crime wave—even if, ultimately, the film blurs the cards when it comes to the crime boss. Welcome Danger does remain watchable enough—it may not be a terrific Lloyd film, but it’s fun, “Glasses” is up to his usual likability and if there aren’t any big physical stunts to wow audiences, everything is wrapped up nicely.

  • Can You Ever Forgive Me? (2018)

    Can You Ever Forgive Me? (2018)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) Like many cinephiles, I was quite impressed when Melissa McCarthy suddenly became a comedy superstar thanks to a remarkable comic performance in Bridesmaids. It was an overnight success years in the making, thanks to several well-regarded supporting appearances in various projects, but it cemented her comic persona as that of an obnoxious loudmouth. That kind of comedy based on deliberate irritation, as many others can testify, is only good until you get overexposed and suddenly becomes a liability. So, it’s smart for McCarthy to try to switch her image before it’s too late. She went in that direction with her supporting role in St. Vincent, but it’s with Can You Ever Forgive Me? that she really takes the chance of a lead role in a very different register. Here she plays in a docu-fictive drama about Lee Israel, a difficult and down-on-her-luck writer who turns to celebrity letter forgery as a way to make money. It turns into a nice revenue stream, but ambition eventually gets the better of her as the forgeries are exposed and the FBI closes in. Where I found the film most fascinating, though, was in its immersion in the Manhattan literary culture of the 1980s, made of collectors, authors, editors and associated personalities. I was very, very amused to see an actor portraying Tom Clancy (as an insufferable bore, no less) show up in the middle of a party scene, and charmed at the depiction of the written-word ecosystem exposed bare. McCarthy is superbly restrained here, taking a frumpy middle-aged character with finesse and dignity. Considering the times we’re in, this won’t be the last film about fakers and con artists, but I can definitely stomach this one, and being able to like McCarthy’s work here is a good chunk of it.

  • Banana Joe (1982)

    Banana Joe (1982)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, August 2019) I’m hardly the first one to remark that cultural cross-pollination is weird, especially when looking at how translation allows works to go from one cultural sphere to another. There’s no real reason why a French-Canadian middle-aged man such as myself would be a fan of Italian comedian Bud Spencer, except for a few economic decisions taken in the mid-1970s. For some reason, many Spencer movies (especially those he shot alongside frequent screen partner Terence Hill) were translated in French and become big hits in French Canada, which ensured that they were mainstays of French-Canadian television as well … which explains how I saw a lot of Spencer/Hill movies in the 1980s. It also explains why those very same movies regularly show up even today on Cable TV channels dedicated to older films. So here we are, nearly thirty years later, with me humming the insanely catchy theme song of Banana Joe as I revisit the film. Spencer was a gentle bear of a comedian, and his larger-than-life appearance also translated in an oversized presence in his films. Banana Joe has him (sans Hill) play a friendly, simple-minded banana farmer forced to get out of his comfortable semirural life to seek a permit in the big city. The usual amount of fish-out-of-water hijinks happen, with the protagonist’s innate goodness overpowering the inhumanity and meanness of so-called civilization. (If you want to write a paper exploring the link between this and Charlie Chaplin’s Modern Times, go ahead—it’s not going to hurt anyone.)  Spencer not only plays the lead, but also co-wrote the script, meaning that it clearly plays to his strengths. The result is not surprising in the slightest, but it does have a comforting feel-good quality that’s hard to dislike—although it probably helps if you have a decades-long sympathy for the roles that Spencer played in dozens of formative films. I really cannot reliably tell you if you’re going to enjoy Banana Joe … but it was a great throwback as far as I’m concerned.

  • Father of the Bride Part II (1995)

    Father of the Bride Part II (1995)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, on TV, August 2019) While the 1991 remake of Father of the Bride was an unexpected success cleverly balancing modern filmmaking technique with the good-natured message of the original 1950 film, I can’t be so positive about the sequel. Taking elements from the original sequel (does that phrase even make sense?), 1951’s Father’s Little Dividend, this Father of the Bride Part II ultimately goes a bit too crazy in adding elements of its own, muddling what should have been a clear focus for a sequel and cranking up the frantic nature of the film to eleven, which again misses the point of what it should be doing. The natural development of this sequel is to have our middle-aged protagonist confront the fact that he’s about to become a grandfather, and that happens in the first few minutes of the film. So far so good—and with Steve Martin being able to play comedy as much as the light melodrama of that kind of premise, it looks as if we’re in good hands. But then this remake/sequel strikes out on territory of its own, and that’s when things start falling apart. For the film’s big idea is to make the protagonist a new father at a very late age, with his wife (played by Diane Keaton, 49 at the time of the film’s release) announcing news of her pregnancy alongside her daughter. I have two big problems with that. For one thing, late pregnancies such as those are not comic material—the high risks to the mom and baby in so-called geriatric pregnancies are significant (not to mention health issues with the baby, even with an uneventful pregnancy) and don’t fit within the comic tone of the film. Even if you can gloss over those medical issues (as the film does), a pregnancy at an advanced maternal age is cause for significant concerns in terms of life trajectory, finances and lifestyle, something that Father of the Bride Part II doesn’t want to address in any significant fashion despite presenting the expectant couple as empty nesters early in the film. But even if you also manage to sweep that issue under the rug, the more salient point is that this creative decision blows a hole in the thematic foundation of the film. I’m not sure about you, but any concerns about becoming a grandfather would be eclipsed almost entirely by becoming a fifty-something father. Watching Father of the Bride Part II becomes actively difficult, because the characters don’t seem to be behaving as humans would. Even discounting the heightened comic tone of the film, the outrageous supporting characters and the deer-in-headlights mugging of Steve Martin, it’s hard to perceive it as just an amiable family comedy when it rings so false. At that point, it’s even redundant to compare it to any of its predecessors, except to point out that they at least had some sense in not escalating the comedy to ludicrous levels. Maybe it’ll work differently on you, but as far as I’m concerned, Father of the Bride Part II is more dumbfounding than amusing.

  • Aquaman (2018)

    Aquaman (2018)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) Thankfully, DC is finally getting the hang out of that superhero movie thing after half a dozen attempts to boot up a DCU worth enjoying. Alas, by the time you’re done with Aquaman, there’s so much stuff in that film that you’re likely to feel punch-drunk. Seriously—by the time the film mentions seven realms, some audience members will groan at the thought of having to visit all seven. The immensely colourful atmosphere and cinematography are undeniable boons, but they do contribute to the cognitive overload skirted by the film’s last act. If Aquaman has two secret weapons, they’re actor Jason Momoa, and director James Wan. Momoa has been flirting with superstardom ever since his impressive turn in the first season of Game of Thrones, but he attains his potential here with the kind of performance that his royal character warrants. Meanwhile, Wan uses his experience directing special-effects heavy horror films and one Fast and the Furious instalment to good effect, fluently using CGI and colourful cinematography to make the film’s wild imagined world credible enough to enjoy. Typical to form for superheroes tentpole films, a few name actors can be found in supporting roles, with various degrees of effectiveness. (Amber Heard: No.  Willem Dafoe: Yes!)  It’s all remarkably good considering that previous DC films couldn’t make sense of similar material, but it’s not quite a home run: At 2 hours and 23 minutes, Aquaman would have been better cutting twenty minutes and a few million dollars’ worth from its budget in order to deliver a more focused story and a more visually intelligible cinematography. In a common failure state of films with near-unlimited budgets, there’s so much stuff on screen at any given moment that it eventually gets tiresome. When nothing is held back for the climax, the climax itself feels like more of the same thing. Still, I had a much better time than expected from previous DCU films: Aquaman has more humour, more colour, more likable characters and a globetrotting plot that has far more to show than an expected underwater film would have had. (There’s even a desert sequence.)  Momoa walks away from the film as an authentic megastar with a long future in the DCU, but time will tell if he’ll be able to play an equally regal character in the future. In the meantime, there’s flickers of hope for the DCU in between this and Wonder Woman. Imperfect and uncontrolled in both cases, but a great step up from the dour early films in the series.

  • Ralph Breaks the Internet (2018)

    Ralph Breaks the Internet (2018)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, Netflix Streaming, August 2019) One of the joys of being a free-range film critic (Wild! Carefree! Untamed!) is bouncing between all eras of film history, unbeholden to any specific genre, commercial imperative, venue specialization or upcoming deadline. One of the better consequences of such an all-inclusive perspective is thinking perhaps a bit too much about how contemporary releases are going to age. What, of the thousands of movies released in 2018, will still be watched in 10, 25, 50, 100 years from now? What distinguishes an enduring film from one that fades away? It’s largely an academic discussion—studios make movies for their weekly box-office results and quarterly reports, not posterity (although an enduring film does mean financial returns for a longer period). Still, there are circumstances where posterity becomes an interesting question, and you can point at the Disney Animation Studio films as one case where it matters most. There are, after all, Disney fans, specialists and historians with an encyclopedic knowledge of the fifty-plus movies produced by that studio. By being part of that lineage, they endure even as comparable films have sunk back obscurity. Then there’s the ultra-timely nature of Ralph Breaks the Internet to deal with—explicitly trying itself to technological innovations (and a current-day expression) in its very title, the film courts such discussions. That it’s a rare theatrical sequel to a previous title in the Disney pantheon also raises its own questions. Ultimately, we don’t know and won’t know how well it will endure—maybe Facebook will go bankrupt tomorrow, maybe computing will change radically over the next few years, maybe a global EMP event will reduce the Internet to inert electronics for a few decades. And trying to assess a film independently of its context requires a detachment of steel. (I mean—the Disney Princesses scene is fun and all, but how will it sound in a decade?)  What can be evaluated, roughly, is how solid the film is—and on that aspect, the film is dramatically sound: the character relationships take centre stage, with the Internet providing a backdrop through which to explore timely yet enduring issues of how people interact. It’s also easy to forget that enduring films don’t always depend on timeless universality—sometimes, a perceptive period piece can be just as interesting to watch, and that’s probably how Ralph Breaks the Internet has the best chances of being fondly remembered. This being said—maybe there’s a lesson in how Ralph Breaks the Internet was widely expected to win the Best Animated Feature Film Academy Awards (all the way to some stores pre-printing celebratory material) … and lost to Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse. Which one of these two will be best remembered?

  • Mermaids (1990)

    Mermaids (1990)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, August 2019) As a historical coming-of-age dramedy, Mermaids defies easy assessment. Yes, it’s cute (and reportedly cuter than its original darker vision was) and occasionally off-putting (what with a consummated relationship between a 15-year-old girl and a 26-year-old man) and often contrived in ways that are only possible in movies—yet reaching for a complex depiction of women of two generations figuring out what they want to do in their lives. The casting is probably the most spectacular aspect of the film, what with Cher as the family matriarch (the word being a bit too strong here, considering her loose and friendly parenting style) over a rebellious teenager played by Winona Ryder and a younger daughter played by Christina Ricci in her screen debut. Bob Hoskins also stars as someone who could be part of the solution to their issues. But the focus here is on the mother/daughter relationship, and the chosen tone is somewhere between comedy with serious moments. It’s a good film, but not a great one—and viewers will be free to further gauge the result based on their own biases and idiosyncrasies. I’m not sure anyone will put Mermaids on their list of essential films from 1990, but it does leave a favourable impression, wraps things up satisfyingly and gets a few good performances from known performers. You don’t have to pin it down exactly to appreciate it.

  • Good Morning, Vietnam (1987)

    Good Morning, Vietnam (1987)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, August 2019) The latter half of the 1980s was an interesting time for American Vietnam movies. If you accept that most of the 1970s were wasted denying that there was even a war, that the early 1980s were a time for anger (as per Rambo and Chuck Norris’ Missing in Action), then the late 1980s were a grab-bag of depression (Full Metal Jacket) and acceptance (Platoon, Casualties of War), then Good Morning, Vietnam looks a lot like bargaining: “Sure, we’ll set a movie in Vietnam and acknowledge our losses, but we’ll turn it in a wacky radio jock comedy!” OK, so that’s being a bit unfair—while Good Morning, Vietnam is among the quintessential Robin Williams movies solely for the characteristic riffs he performs early on (you can feel the script stop and the improv begin), it also sets the stage for a more sober look at the conflict in the film’s last third, as our observer protagonist finally feels involved in the events. The result is still a provocative blend of comedy to ease viewers into a somewhat even-handed depiction of the war, deftly using Williams’ natural gift to make a film that would have been impossible with another actor. While the focus is often on the comedy, director Barry Levinson doesn’t skimp on the portrayal of the war itself—there’s a twenty-second tracking shot of helicopters at the end of the “It’s a Wonderful World” sequence that would fit in any other Vietnam movie, comedy or not. There is a formulaic nature to Good Morning, Vietnam, sure, but it’s more than offset by a successful execution. The result is still a gripping, funny, very enjoyable film even decades later.

  • Missing in Action (1984)

    Missing in Action (1984)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) Let’s not mince words: Missing in Action is not a good movie. It’s not subtle. It’s created to cash in on a very specific sub-strain of American pathology, which is the desire to win all the wars they’ve ever been involved in, even if they have to rewrite history to do it. And yet, despite the low-budget and even lower imagination, Missing in Action may very well be a movie of historical importance. As the story goes, James Cameron’s treatment for what would later become Rambo: First Blood Part II was floating around Hollywood, and one of the production companies interested, the low-rent Cannon group, decided to create a new script out of the idea. But The Cannon Group was not interested in what can be laughingly called the sophistication of the second Rambo film: Here, there are no double-crosses from Americans: Everything is a straightforward jingoistic power fantasy in which American firepower defeat the Vietnamese at last and erase the national embarrassment. It’s straightforward to the point where it becomes iconic, and the film is worth seeing for no other reason than the classic unironic shot in which Chuck Norris inexplicably emerges from a river, big gun blazing. Understandably, Missing in Action became a rich source of inspiration for the second Hot Shots! parody. Amazingly enough, it just may be Norris’s best film—certainly the one where the budget is high enough, the distance between persona and character is slimmest, and the one where self-awareness is kept to a minimum. It was an integral part of the Reaganesque might-make-right action/war movies of the decade, and seemingly runs on pure distilled American pride. Again: I’m not saying that Missing in Action is a good movie … but anyone interested in 1980s Hollywood has to see this.

  • The Barefoot Contessa (1954)

    The Barefoot Contessa (1954)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) If I had to boil down a review of The Barefoot Contessa to two words, they would be Bogart/Gardner, with Mankiewicz as the third word. Not much else is needed considering that the point of the film is to see Humphrey Bogart as a movie director witnessing the rise and fall of a Spanish dancer (Ava Gardner) groomed to become a movie star. Written and directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz, the film is a Hollywood tragedy with strong ties to the European aristocracy, and much of the film’s second-half drama comes from entanglements with an Italian count. Savvily taking viewers from Hollywood familiarity to the escapist melodrama of the old-world, The Barefoot Contessa was part of the “Hollywood on the Tiber” movement which saw studio movies shot in Rome. The Technicolor production values are impressive, and they all serve to reinforce the film’s old-school glamour: in some ways, you can see the film as being very near the apex of the studio system and the style in which old-school Hollywood built itself. It is melancholic, however: the ending is a downer (in keeping with a film that flashes back from a funeral) and Bogart’s character has far less to do than you’d think from his top billing: he is a witness to events outside his control, a chronicler of someone else’s story. (There’s an interesting double-bill to be made here with In a Lonely Place as a glum Bogart-as-filmmaker mini-festival.) Off-kilter touches like that are why I keep going back to Mankiewicz movies—they clearly understood the way that Hollywood worked and used that to create an element of surprise or freshness. But let’s not fool ourselves: The Barefoot Contessa is Ava Gardner’s movie. The title of the film has become closely associated with her (she herself liked to go barefoot), and it still ranks high as a showcase for her specific brand of glamour.

  • Frau im Mond [Woman in the Moon] (1929)

    Frau im Mond [Woman in the Moon] (1929)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) If you’re watching Woman in the Moon for straight narrative qualities, you’re not going to have a good time—true to form for silent movies, it’s stultifying long, narratively rough, filled with what we now recognize as clichés, and scientifically ludicrous by today’s standards. On the other hand, this is a mandatory watch for anyone interested in the (pre)history of science-fiction movies. Directed by Fritz Lang, it’s very much a companion piece to Metropolis. Written by his then-wife Thea von Harbou (who was, one notes, an authentic SF writer adapting her own work), it’s one of the very few authentic Science Fiction movies of the first half of the 20th century. It clearly intends to seriously explore what space travel could look like from the best theories of the time, and this seriousness carries in a treatment of characters that is typically overdone by modern standards, but more ambitious than many of the cut-rate horror masquerading as SF until the genre became self-aware in the 1950s. Space buffs will clearly recognize the film’s prescient use of engineering refinements that would be used in the real space race: multi-stage rockets, countdown to launch, water used as launch heat dampeners and zero-G adaptations. The science gets wonky the moment they land on the moon (which here has a breathable atmosphere), but that too could be defended by some of the wilder scientific extrapolations of the time. I wouldn’t call Woman in the Moon a particularly entertaining film, but it’s fascinating from a historical perspective.

  • Guys and Dolls (1955)

    Guys and Dolls (1955)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) I remain amazed at how some movies can produce some consistent reactions for decades. If you look at contemporary accounts of Guys and Dolls prior to its release, the themes are similar: “What? Joseph L. Mankiewicz directs a musical featuring Jean Simmons and Marlon Brando? What craziness is this?!”  Considering that neither Mankiewicz, Simmons nor Brando ever went back to musicals after this one-off, you can get the exact same reaction well into the twenty-first century. Of course, we now have fairly entertaining stories of rivalry on the set between Brando and co-star Frank Sinatra, the latter of which was not impressed by Brando’s mumbling or singing deficiencies. (I’ll agree with Sinatra on this one.)  Guys and Dolls, seen from today’s perspective, is not entirely as slick as other musicals of the era—and Brando has the double disadvantages of not being in his element either as a singer or a comedian, his mumbling quickly becoming annoying. Sinatra is far more comfortable in going from song to jokes. The cabaret numbers are fun: I enjoyed the “Pet me Papa” cat-girl number a bit too much. Mankiewicz does relatively well in helming the production: The introduction is great, the conclusion makes good use of its impressive Times Square stage and the dice gambling scene is not bad either. The result is a bit too long at 150 minutes, but Guys and Dolls did scratch my itch for a lavish musical … and I look forward to future generations of cinephiles also asking themselves what Brando was doing in a musical.

  • Casualties of War (1989)

    Casualties of War (1989)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, August 2019) You can certainly argue that Casualties of War seldom gets as much love as other similar movies. You can even offer a few perfectly reasonable explanations for it: Coming as it did right after Platoon (1986) and Full Metal Jacket (1987), perhaps it couldn’t measure up to those films. Perhaps having Michael J. Fox and Sean Penn in the lead roles made it more about the actors (especially Fox, then and now better known for comedic roles) than the substance. Perhaps Brian de Palma was seen as working too far outside his element. Perhaps the subject matter of war crimes as committed by American troops was harder to take than even an unflinching description of combat hell. No matter the reason, Casualties of War isn’t as likely to be mentioned as a great Vietnam movie. (Although it is receiving a growing critical reassessment.) Now, I’m not going to be a Tarantinoesque contrarian and claim that it’s a hidden gem, but it’s probably worth a look. De Palma keeps thing humming along, Penn makes for a fierce antagonist, Fox doesn’t do too badly as a baby-faced innocent confronted with war atrocities, and the subject matter is indeed more daring than many other takes on Vietnam. It may not be the most entertaining, most evocative, most credible Vietnam film, but it comes in at a sufficiently different angle to be worth a look as a complement, not necessarily as an inferior imitation.