Author: Christian Sauvé

  • Dunkirk (2017)

    Dunkirk (2017)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, May 2018) Writer/director Christopher Nolan rarely disappoints, and Dunkirk is no exception—after striking box-office gold and rapturous critical acclaim as often as he has, Nolan has earned the right to do whatever we want, and a recreation of the 1940 Dunkirk evacuation is just as good a starting point as any. Of course, Nolan being Nolan, it’s not quite your average war movie—Dunkirk does clever things with time in meshing, through savvy editing, three stories that respectively take place over one week, one day and one hour: they all converge during a furious climax, but the thrills are nearly constant along the way: Thanks to impressive practical re-creations and aggressive sound editing/mixing, this is a war movie that pummels viewers as much as its characters. (Seriously, the sound is top-notch—I was annoyed that Dunkirk swept the sound categories at the latest Oscars over Baby Driver, but having now seen both, I can now understand why they were in competition.)  Clearly presenting the situation, Dunkirk does hit upon most of the event’s highlights—the plight of the soldiers stuck waiting for evacuation, the role played by fighter pilots and more intriguingly the sense of duty felt by so many ordinary British citizen called upon to drive their boats to France and back in order to rescue the beached soldiers. It’s been touched upon one or twice in movie history (in my head, I can almost see Mr. Miniver somewhere in the background of the evacuation scenes) but not in this way. Otherwise, Dunkirk uses the modern panoply of action movie techniques, always in a controlled-enough fashion for maximum effectiveness rather than confusion. The editing is terrific both at a macro and micro-scale, whereas the actors distinguish themselves despite not being particularly diverse by virtue of historical demographics. Dunkirk is another solid hit for Nolan and while it may not have the conceptual giddiness of such a high-flying genre piece as Inception or Memento, it’s a solid war movie that deftly wrestle with contemporary expectations and sensibilities—never “Nazis” or “Germans”; always “the enemy”. But mostly, a movie about heroes that doesn’t always require them to kill.

  • King Kong (1933)

    King Kong (1933)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On DVD, May 2018) While it’s a cliché to say that older movies are more impressive for their story than special effects, I found myself thinking the exact opposite about the 1933 version of King Kong—I found much of the special effects impressive, but the story underwhelming. That’s not a constant throughout the film, mind you—the first act of the film offers a compelling look at early-thirties New York City, especially when events conspire for some characters to get out of the city quickly … and finding no better place than a departing expedition. Alas! That expedition happens to go hunting for a mythical monster on an isolated island, and much of the rest of the story is familiar to the point of being dull. Fortunately, that’s when the special effects take over the story. Watching the film made me realize how indebted to the original was Peter Jackson’s over-bloated 2005 version. What the original h King Kong as in its favour is pacing—at barely more than two hours, it moves more quickly than we’d expect. When I’m not so happy is with the finale, which leads to a trite (and nonsensical) “beauty killed the beast” statement that really doesn’t wrap up anything. Still: 1933’s King Kong remains a landmark movie for the fantasy genre and for blockbuster filmmaking. It generally holds up even despite its significant ambitions in terms of special effects. And while I’m disappointed in the story, this may be more out of over-familiarity than anything else—when you can anticipate every sequence because the film’s been absorbed in the popular imagination, it’s normal to be less than surprised at the result.

  • Planes, Trains & Automobiles (1987)

    Planes, Trains & Automobiles (1987)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Second viewing, On TV, May 2018) screenwriter/director John Hughes’ Planes, Trains and Automobiles is a comedy classic for a reason—it makes great use of two comic actors (Steve Martin and John Candy), features a series of memorable sequences, plays on universal annoyances and doesn’t forget to add a little bit of sentiment toward the end to temper the comedy. Everyone can relate to uncontrollable delays and setbacks in trying to get home for the holidays, and Hughes pushes it to the limit in describing what else can happen to two harried travellers. (The film reaches a comic apex of sort during its fiery highway sequence.)  Martin plays exasperated as well as Candy plays exasperator, and the result couldn’t be better. It’s not a complex film, and it works largely because of this straightforwardness. It’s worth another viewing every few thanksgivings.

  • The First Great Train Robbery aka The Great Train Robbery (1978)

    The First Great Train Robbery aka The Great Train Robbery (1978)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, May 2018) Sean Connery as an impossibly cool criminal masterminding a gold robbery from a moving train? All aboard! Adapted somewhat loosely from an early Michael Crichton novel, The First Great Train Robbery isn’t much more than a romp, but it’s a superbly executed romp taking us through the Victorian underworld and what was then cutting-edge technology. Not only is Connery terrific in the lead role, but he’s supported by actors such as Donald Sutherland and Lesley-Anne Down in a script from Crichton himself, who also directs and cleverly adapts his material to a far more entertaining tone with an upbeat finale. The pacing is uneven, with some lower-interest segments toward the middle of the film, but it picks up in time for a spirited final sequence that build and build until we’re running on top of a moving train, with stunt sequences that have palpable pre-CGI energy and danger. We’ve seen this kind of film before and since, but The First Great Train Robbery is executed well enough to be a fun film even today.

  • Mildred Pierce (1945)

    Mildred Pierce (1945)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, May 2018) As a family drama that drives steadily toward becoming a crime thriller, Mildred Pierce has something for everyone: family conflict, rags-to-riches development and a plunge into noir as a final act, bringing us back to the opening framing device. Joan Crawford holds the film together as the titular Mildred, a woman who gets over her first marriage by working hard and establishing a chain of restaurants, only to be held back by a spoiled daughter, a loafing second husband and a terrible family tragedy. That Mildred Pierce ends in murder is no spoiler (that’s how it begins), although the killer may surprise you. The black-and-white cinematography is top-notch, and Michael Curtiz’s direction impressively brings together the sunny domesticity of toxic family life with the harder shadows of criminal noir. The intersection between independent-woman drama and murder mystery is unusual, and makes Mildred Pierce stand out even when slotted in the noir tradition.

  • The Mark of Zorro (1940)

    The Mark of Zorro (1940)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, May 2018) In some ways, there really isn’t anything new in The Mark of Zorro if you’d seen, say, the 1998 remake of it or have been immersed in pop culture for the past few decades: It’s a bog-standard story in which virtue triumph over perfidy after a fair amount of sword fighting. On the other hand, there is something to be said about execution, and that’s why there’s no tiring of The Mark of Zorro even if you’ve seen the 1920 version, the 1998 version, the 1980s parody, the Batman origin stories or any of the unacknowledged inheritors of the swashbuckling tradition. Tyrone Power makes for a fantastic hero, Linda Darnell has the whole damsel-in-distress thing locked down, and Basil Rathbone is simply awe-inspiring as a henchman more interesting than the main villain. The closing Power/Rathbone confrontation is a physical tour-de-force that hits all of the classic tropes of swordfights (cut candles, climbing on furniture, witty repartee) in a way that will leave no one unsatisfied. Seriously, if you watch nothing else, then fast-forward to the final sword fight—it will make you watch the entire film. Old and yet still bold, The Mark of Zorro amply justifies its lasting reputation as one of the finest swashbuckling epics of all time.

  • Seven Days in May (1964)

    Seven Days in May (1964)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, May 2018) In between Seven Days in May, Dr. Strangelove and Fail-Safe, 1964 was a big, big year for black-and-white techno-thrillers in Hollywood. Dr. Strangelove distinguished itself through black comedy and Fail-Safe made few compromises in showing a nightmare scenario, leaving Seven Days in May as the more average film, although this is a relative term when discussing a film in which the United States government discovers an impending military coup and tries to defuse it before it’s too late. The black-and-white cinematography highlights the non-nonsense atmosphere that the film is going for, trying to make the unthinkable at least plausible. There is something admirable to the way the film builds not to an explosive guns-and-explosion confrontation, but to a quiet climax in which the would-be traitors are sent scurrying, and the country avoids a dramatic confrontation that would have had terrible consequences. The film works hard at instilling a basic credibility to its plotting, even with some then-near-future technological touches such as video screens. The tension is there, and being able to rely on capable actors such as Kirk Douglas, Fredric March (at the close of a long career), Ava Gardner or Burt Lancaster. Director John Frankenheimer made his reputation on thriller much like Seven Days in May, and is still effective today. Compared to its two other 1964 techno-thrillers, the film has aged very well—it may be hard to imagine nuclear war today, but overthrowing a president is still within the realm of possibility…

  • Duel (1971)

    Duel (1971)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, May 2018) There’s been a Duel-sized hole in my Steven Spielberg filmography since forever (I remember wanting to see the film in the late eighties after reading a book about Spielberg and E.T.), so it’s great to finally being able to watch the film that propelled him to the big leagues. Originally made for TV, Duel proves to be a classic suspense film starring a harried long-distance commuter, a winding road and a mysterious truck that just wants to kill him. (The trucker is almost entirely absent from the film, so the truck becomes the antagonist.)  Executed on a budget but with high standards, Duel ends up carrying its rather simplistic premise far longer than anyone would have expected. Road rage is now a more common fear than back in 1971, so there is some universally applicable suspense in seeing a truck become murderously determined to harm a motorist in a small car. While the premise isn’t bulletproof (get off the road! Take a real highway!), Duel does multiply plot points and mini-vignettes in an attempt to keep the suspense high. Dennis Weaver is bland but serviceable as the everyday man protagonist—not much is required of him but channel your average audience member and he does it well. There is some thematic content here about dehumanization and masculinity, but the focus is on pure suspense: the film is still effective today, largely because of its focus on essentials. Very few TV movies have aged as well as Duel.

  • Giant (1956)

    Giant (1956)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, May 2018) As a swan song for James Dean, Giant is a fitting statement. A vast family generational drama set in the vast expanses of oil-rich Texas, Giant begins as our newlywed heroine (the ever-captivating Elizabeth Taylor) moves from the East Coast to arid Texas, and befriends a ranch hand (Dean). One semi-accidental death later, the ranch hand inherits some land that proves to be soaked with oil. Over the next few decades, he develops an empire, leading to a climactic confrontation at the opening of his grand hotel where long-held feuds are detonated. Dean manages to play both a young cowboy and an aging industrialist, holding his own not only against Taylor, but also Rock Hudson as the ranch owner who ends up butting heads with his ex-employee. If Giant has a flaw, it’s that it’s a really, really long movie at three hours and twenty-one minutes. I don’t mind the multi-decade scope as much as the length of each individual scene—time and time again, the film takes forever to make a point that could have been made far more efficiently. Surprisingly enough, I don’t quite dislike Dean’s performance—he’s mopey in the film’s first half, but rural mopey rather than urban mopey or suburban mopey such as in his other two films and as such sidesteps his caricatures that have emerged since then. In the film’s last half, he effectively becomes a drunken unhappy industrialist and actually sells the role rather well despite playing decades older than he was at the time. My other issue with Giant is how it doesn’t reach a climax as much as it blows up over a lengthy period at the hotel, then moves to a roadside diner for a moral climax that actually makes the film’s conclusion feel far smaller. That’s what you get from working from a novel as source material, though—whether you have the guts to change what doesn’t make sense on the screen, or you get criticized for it. The film has endured rather well—its anti-racism streak is still surprisingly relevant, and its anti-sexism message also comes across. The film also shows with a decent amount of detail the transition from Texas’ ranching heritage to its more modern oil extraction boom. I may not like Giant all that much, but I respect it a lot, and I frankly find it disappointing that it got beaten by as frothy a spectacle as Around the World in 80 Days for the Best Picture Oscar.

  • Monkey Business (1952)

    Monkey Business (1952)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, May 2018) It’s easy to see why Monkey Business is often considered to be a loose follow-up to Bringing up Baby—Howard Hawks is back with a fast-paced comedy, Cary Grant reprises his silly intellectual mode, Ginger Rogers steps in as the wilder female partner and the film is at its best when it’s just goofing around. Thanks to a high-concept premise (what if a serum gave you back your youth … or at least made you regress back in age mentally?), there are plenty of opportunities for random silliness. The film never gets better than seeing Day play at being a bratty schoolgirl, although seeing Marilyn Monroe vamp it up as a voluptuous secretary is also fun. While it’s technically a science-fiction film, Monkey Business is best seen as a farce reteaming Hawks and Grant together and just having fun along the way. (This being said, the film’s best laugh comes early on in the opening credits sequence, as the director tells Grant “not yet” and to go back behind the door before making an entrance. Alas, the film doesn’t go back to metatextual comedy.)  It’s really not quite up to Bringing up Baby’s standards—the film is occasionally annoying (the monkey), occasionally dull (anything with the scientists), occasionally offensive to modern sensibilities (never mind “the secretary”; I have in mind the “Indian scalping” schoolyard playing.)  It’s still not a bad time thanks to the aforementioned goofing off, but it could have been better.

  • Pet Sematary (1989)

    Pet Sematary (1989)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, May 2018) There’s something almost charming in quasi-classic Stephen King adaptation Pet Sematary. The way it doesn’t mess around in creating an atmosphere of overblown fear and suspense. The almost uncaring way the film uses familiar horror tropes. The abundance of straight-up “this is a bad idea!” reactions from the audience. The ultra-pitch-black ending. The novel is one of King’s bleakest and the film makes no effort at trying to be something else. The actors are almost forgettable (although Fred Gwynne plays his elder-advisor role with the false gravitas that the part requires) and the direction isn’t particularly polished. But then again, lack of polish is the point of this film—criticizing the characters’ incredibly dumb actions in the film is tempting but useless as we’re here for the thrills and chills. At least Pet Sematary know what it’s about and whatever artful moments it has (most notably in depicting the entirely predictable death of a child upon which the film pivots) are in the service of later shlock. As a result, it’s easy to dismiss Pet Sematary … but there’s not use denying that it works at what it sets out to do, and perhaps even more so today as a late-eighties horror movie now that the genre has evolved (well, in its best examples) toward a more artful and meaningful presentation.

  • Fiddler on the Roof (1971)

    Fiddler on the Roof (1971)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, May 2018) Oh goodness. As I make my way through musicals through the decades, it’s clear that the post-Hays-code decade was terrible for the form. Musicals are best suited for light-hearted fare, but in-between 1968 (Oliver Twist, blah) and 1973 (Cabaret, yuck), everything got darker, heavier, longer and impossible to enjoy. While I don’t dislike Fiddler on the Roof quite as much as Oliver Twist or Cabaret, it certainly reminded me of both of them in the way a story is stretched over an interminable amount of time, further deadened by musical numbers that sabotage whatever pacing the film had going for it. To be fair, there are quite a few things that I like about Fiddler on the Roof: Topol is fantastic as the protagonist, addressing the audience and God Himself throughout the film as he tries to cope with his daughters making their own matrimonial choices. “Here’s to life” is a good number, and I finally got to experience firsthand the inspiration for Gwen Stephani’s “Rich Girl.”  The look at life within a shtetl (and then later on in an urban enclave) feels of quasi-anthropological quality. But as it turns out (and maybe it’s the weather), I wasn’t quite in the right frame of mind for a nearly three-hour immersion in traditional Jewish culture. The film drags on and on, especially in its second post-pogrom half as the laughs stop. Fiddler on the Roof isn’t helped by an overall visual scheme that revels in its rustic quality—the film feels as brown as it looks, and that is an endemic quality of post-Hays musicals. It’s not a bad movie—I just wasn’t ready to commit to it.

  • Avengers: Infinity War (2018)

    Avengers: Infinity War (2018)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In theatres, May 2018) The second most interesting thing about Infinity War is that taken on its own, it’s not that good a movie: Far too many characters having too little to do, with meaningless battle sequences and an ending that is nothing but a bit cliffhanger inviting audiences to pay again to see the real ending of the story. That’s all true, and inevitable in light of what is the most interesting thing about Infinity War: The TV serial storytelling model has finally achieved its dominance over the typical way movies are told. It is the culmination of ten years of effort from Marvel Studios to piece together a mostly coherent shared universe, and this effort is paying off here by allowing fans who have seen all 18 movies to date. It does mean that you should show up to the movie with as encyclopedic a knowledge of the series so far in your head—a lot of the finer details of Infinity War are best appreciated when already knowing about the characters involved and their relationship with each other. It also means that whatever audacious ending the film has in mind is likely to be partially dismantled in time for further instalments of the ongoing series. (I remember the end of Winter Soldier even if the series doesn’t.) But that’s almost in the implied contract when purchasing the ticket—the difficult calculation is whether fans of the series will get what they expect from a major crossover event. Here, fortunately, Infinity War does well: At a frantic pace, it does find things to do for a roster of over three dozen characters, and while some of them get short thrift, there’s an impressive virtuosity in finding multiple flavours of science fiction and fantasy co-existing together in a single story without tonal clashes. The “Marvel House Style” does help a lot in unifying characters that can be noble, silly, supernatural, materialistic, alien or young … but it’s still quite a juggling act to make everything feel at home in this cross-stitch of a story. For once, Marvel also benefits from a good credible villain—in fact, Infinity War is most satisfying when considered as a story from the villain’s point of view—all the way to a happy ending in which they get what they’ve wanted all along. Is suspect that reaction to Infinity War will change quite a bit once the next chapters in the series are seen and digested—but I can’t quite say whether this will be seen as a frenetic mishmash, an apex for Marvel Studio or an aperitif for something even better. Such is life in a serial model, though—either the series grows too big for itself (as we suspect that a number of stars will not return for further instalments of the series by dint of being too expensive), or it grows stale and abandoned (leading to an end through disinterest), or it keeps finding a middle ground with occasional spikes of interest. Marvel’s been in the serial business for decades, though, so let’s leave them to figure out what’s next. Tune in next year for the next episode.

  • Cabaret (1972)

    Cabaret (1972)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, May 2018) I started watching Cabaret knowing only three big things about it—it stars Liza Minnelli, is popular within the gay community and has been widely hailed as a musical for people who don’t like musicals. Given that I don’t care for Minnelli, I am straight and I do like musicals, I shouldn’t have been surprised by my decidedly unimpressed reaction to the movie. Another one of those “wow, there are a lot more Nazis here than I expected” movies, director Bob Fosse’s Cabaret seems willfully dedicated to the task of deconstructing musicals. It takes places in early 1930s Germany, portraying it as a time when fascism is ascending and debauchery is reaching decadent extremes. Most of the songs are set within a nightclub (with one memorable exception), with much of its romantic plot about a three-way romance between an English writer, an American showgirl and a German aristocrat. So far so good … except that the deconstruction goes all the way. The love story crashes and burns (abortion is involved), while the rest of the film chronicles the way the world is headed toward genocide and war. Cabaret wants you to feel disgusted at its musical numbers: One of them (“The world belongs to me”) is a nightmarish descent from a Bavarian beer party to goose-stepping jingoism, while another (“If you could only see”) is a comedy routine with a vile punchline that is fit to cause nausea. It doesn’t help that despite being soaked in sexualized markers (fishnets, fishnets everywhere!), Cabaret is almost entirely unarousing—Minnelli does nothing for me, and the film goes out of its way to extinguish any sexiness. While it’s easy to respect the final result—including the gut punches of the worst musical number and the unhappy-ever-after ending, I can’t possibly imagine myself willingly seeing Cabaret again any time soon, which is not something I usually say about other musicals.

  • Pinocchio (1940)

    Pinocchio (1940)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On DVD, May 2018) The interesting thing about Disney’s decades-long media saturation is that it’s possible to know almost everything about one of their movies without actually having seen it. I grew up in the seventies with tons of materials (multiple books, mostly) about Disney’s Pinocchio. The events, characters, themes (don’t lie!) and visuals were deeply embedded in my brain growing up, and further material available is available now for another generation. I know everything about Pinocchio the film … but this was the first time I’ve watched in beginning to end in its original language. As it turns out… I don’t particularly like it. Oh, there are plenty of things to like about it. The theme song is iconic, Jiminy Cricket is terrific, the quality of the animation remains exceptional … but there is something I don’t quite like about Pinocchio. Part of it is the heavy-handed morality tale; another is the uncanny valley of Pinocchio as a character; another has to do with the quasi-hallucinatory quality of the episodic plotting; much has to do with heavier episodes in the story that go well into child-endangerment territory. To be fair, few early-era Disney movies (and quite a few of the 1970s ones as well) escape the shifting of what we consider to be acceptable material for kids—there’s some rough stuff in everything from Snow White to Dumbo to Bambi to The Rescuers. Still, respecting the historical context in which Pinocchio was created isn’t the same thing as saying that the film is enjoyable today: I may appreciate seeing the film on my way to Disney Animation Studios completism but I won’t necessarily push for the film to be on heavy rotation in my household. (Not that I need to—my child isn’t particularly fond of Pinocchio either.) It’s certainly worth a look for a bunch of reasons, but a purely enjoyable viewing experience isn’t one of them.