Author: Christian Sauvé

  • Nosferatu: Phantom der Nacht (1979)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, March 2022) Sometimes, critically reviewing some films is useless—being blandly descriptive is more than enough and viewers will fill out the rest. So it is that the most honest commentary about Nosferatu: Phantom der Nacht is simply “Late-1970s Werner Herzog remakes Nosferatu with Klaus Kinski.”  That’s it. Nothing more needed. Well, unless you’re not aware of who Herzog is, what his approach looks like, what you can expect from Klaus Kinski, or what the heck is Nosferatu. Facts without context aren’t that useful, then. Which brings us to: Warner Herzog has always been a special director, often more obsessed with expressionism than anything else, with a pacing that takes forever and leaves ample time for visual tangents that don’t necessarily advance the story. Klaus Kinski, meanwhile, is a frequent collaborator who can be counted upon for wild performances. The 1970s were a dirty-grimy decade for cinema, and Nosferatu is a classic vampire film that filed off the serial numbers from Bram Stoker’s Dracula (but so insufficiently that it was sued and nearly destroyed) and created a more grotesque vampire archetype that is still well-known today. This remake brings up the classic story to late-1970s technical standards, but don’t go watching the film expecting a narratively conventional experience—Herzog has delivered a very stylish vampire film here. Whether that’s good or not is going to be up to the viewer. I’m in a generous mood today, so I’ll argue that we have plenty of narratively conventional vampire films to go around, which explains why Herzog’s work is still worth a look even forty years later. But ask me again tomorrow if I’d rather sit through this film again, and you may have a different answer.

  • La battaglia d’Inghilterra [Eagles over London] (1969)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, March 2022) Now here’s something special: what if the exuberance and expressionism of Spaghetti Western had ben applied to a World War II story? You don’t have to wonder about it anymore: just have a look at Eagles over London and you’ll see. A wild and intentionally inaccurate yarn of Germans trying to invade Great Britain at the height of the Battle of Britain, it’s a film that portrays Germans as able to infiltrate British high command even as air raids threatened the country. It’s all suitably bonkers, but executed in a style that doesn’t care as much about plausibility as impact. By far the most distinctive element of the film is seeing classic aerial combat footage re-tinted and presented using split-screen cinematography. Unforgettable. Director Enzo G. Castellari’s work is not necessarily good, but it’s rather fun—coming from late 1960s Europe, Eagles over London is still very much in the “war-is-an-adventure” mode that predates the much more sombre takes of 1970s American cinema. If you want more of this, it turns out that there’s an entire corpus of roughly forty films, called “macaroni combat,” that stem from the same style. Have fun!

  • The Trip to Bountiful (1985)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2022) It’s not a good sign if your first impression of a film’s opening minutes is a strong desire to get away from it, but that’s what The Trip to Bountiful feels like. The film’s first act takes place in a 1940s dysfunctional household—an unlikable wife, her suffering husband and his mother mistreated by the younger woman. The point of the film is stated early on: Our elderly protagonist just wants to escape the choking oppressiveness of their tiny city apartment and go see her rural childhood home in Bountiful. That’s pretty much the entire film right there: how does a frail older woman manage to escape her step-daughter, travel to another state and make her way to her childhood home without any support from her family? Geraldine Page is quite good in the lead role (she won an Academy Award for it), but viewers should be forewarned that this is a long and drawn-out trip: Director Peter Masterson, working from a play, isn’t in a hurry to conclude the trip, and that gives the film a very specific forward rhythm. Not the most action-packed film, then, but it clearly outlines its dramatic stakes and then keeps going until everyone has learned a lesson or two.

  • The Cowboy and the Lady (1938)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2022) Look, I’m not going to apologize for my near-complete lack of enthusiasm for Gary Cooper. He’s not a bad actor and clearly not a bad movie star, but his appeal is so incredibly bland that he seems to form a void of charisma every time he shows up on screen. I get that he’s going for a very safe and stoic ideal of the American male and that movie producers loved that stuff, but he seems so boring compared to many of his contemporaries. My point being that I do the equivalent of a mental shrug every time he pops up in a film, and that can be a problem when much of the film depends on his appeal. In The Cowboy and the Lady, for instance, his Cowboy doesn’t hold a candle for the charm of Merle Oberon as an aristocratic lady who, in trying to escape his influential father, meets and marries him. The relationship being built on a big lie—as in: she pretends to be a maid—the third act brings along all of the complications that you can imagine. The Cowboy and the Lady works as a film, but only just—it has a straightforward quality that keeps it from running aground, but on the other hand, there are dozens of films from the same era that tackle similar material more successfully. It may be my lack of enthusiasm for Cooper, but then again maybe it’s just the film being ordinary.

  • The Breed (2001)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, March 2022) There’s a clear ambition to The Breed that helps set it apart from many other vampire films… but also highlights the limits of its budget. I’m surprised it flew under my radar for twenty years, considering that it makes a good-faith effort at depicting an unusual retro-dystopian setting in which vampires co-exist (not necessarily harmoniously) alongside humans. Taking on the tried-and-true science-fictional structure of a murder mystery with mismatched police partners as a way to explore that world and its ideas, The Breed works its way up from a murder to a conspiracy, throws in some interspecies romance, plays with the tropes of the genre (usually by saying, “This isn’t a movie”) and attempts some stylish Matrix-inspired action sequences. By far the most intriguing aspect of the film is its attempt to deliver a 1950s-inspired future with old technology, film noir motifs and off-beat fashion. There’s only so much that director Michael Oblowitz can go with the low budget at his disposal, but the attempt is appreciated and reflects the script’s similar intention to be more than the usual vampire film. Adrian Paul and Bokeem Woodbine are not too bad as the human/vampire partners, but it’s Bai Ling (as usual) who gets most of the attention as a wealthy vampire aristocrat. Thematically, the film goes for Nazism metaphors (helped along by being filmed in abandoned Jewish ghettos), which once again isn’t particularly well done, but shows more panache than usual. I wouldn’t want to overhype The Breed—narratively, it’s well-worn territory, and the audaciousness is rarely backed up by solid execution. But for jaded reviewers groaning as the thought of yet another dull vampire film, this is more interesting than usual.

  • Butterflies Are Free (1972)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2022) Mentioning the “theatrical origins” of a film is often either a way for me to talk about the hermetic, low-stake nature of its plot, or a lead-in to the better-than-average dialogue that the adaptation carries over. It’s rarer, but not impossible, for such a theatrical adaptation to lead to a good film that keeps the strengths of its play while working just as well cinematically… like Butterflies are Free. Anchored by strong performance by Goldie Hawn and Edward Albert (even though it’s Eileen Heckart who won an Academy Award for her supporting performance), the film takes a look at a free-spirited young woman as she discovers her new apartment neighbour—and realizes that he’s blind. He has his own issues to work through—most notably a domineering mother who has given him a month to prove that he can live on his own. The repartee between those two young people is quickly complicated by the mother barging in and disapproving of the budding relationship. It doesn’t quite go where you expect it, though. Even today, much of Butterflies are Free’s last third still has a freshness of approach—whether it’s the growing rapport between the two women, or some last-minute swerves on the way to a happy ending. Butterflies are Free is not, to be clear, that good of a play nor a film—but it’s surprisingly accessible and even engaging once it gets going. It’s a fun watch, and it manages to keep the qualities of its original even as it delivers a decent adaptation.

  • Jexi (2019)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2022) There are two movies going on in Jexi—a comedy in which an ordinary guy fights with his far-too-smartphone for control of his life, and a very safe romantic comedy in which said ordinary guy somehow gets the attention and devotion of a much more attractive woman. The first film has some mishandled bite to it; the second is utterly safe and boring. Alas, the second constantly gets into the first’s way. Another in a rapidly growing list of comedies in which modern technology goes haywire, Jexi is never better than when a rogue AI, impeccably voiced by Rose Byrne, cusses out the protagonist, shows how easily he’s controlled by technology and develops a possessive crush on him. (A scene redefines “phone sex” for modern audiences.)  The tone of the humour occasionally slips into vulgarity, but much of it is suitably absurd. At times, Jexi flirts with more interesting material than “Oh no, how can I escape an all-powerful AI?” as the relationship between the two deepens—too bad that the resolution is hardly convincing. Some good performances by known scene-stealers such as Michael Pena and Wanda Sykes also help that half of the film. Then there’s the human romantic comedy angle. After seeing Jexi and tick, tick… BOOM! within the span of a week, I’m adding Alexandra Shipp to my list of movie crushes—but her role here is as basic as it gets, looking great but being puppeteered through a bare-bones narrative that has her fall for an everyday schlub played by Adam Levine for no other reason than he’s the protagonist. It’s the featurelessness and convenient nature of that romantic subplot that’s Lexi’s biggest handicap—there’s almost nothing here worthy of note, and it only works as a counterpart to the wilder stalkerish main plot. The overall saving grace of the film is that it’s amiable enough to be watched even as it misses some strong opportunities to do better. Levine gets his laughs, Shipp looks terrific and Byrne can deliver profanity better than Siri. But there was a potential here for a much better film, and that may explain why, despite a pulse-of-the-moment premise, Jexi has struggled to find much of an audience.

  • Club Paradise (1986)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, March 2022) There’s a well-worn quality to Club Paradise that veers into complacency. As a comic premise, the idea of an American jumping from tourism to running a ramshackle Caribbean vacation resort despite local corruption is rich with possibilities, but the way this film goes about it smells of fumes left from an earlier era of comedy. Feeling as if it was a script from the early 1980s dusted-off in desperation, Club Paradise runs on a very lazy autopilot, with director Harold Ramis relying on the charisma of its stars (Robin Williams, Rick Moranis, Eugene Levy, Peter O’Toole, even Twiggy) more than any sustained comic writing. It does have a few good moments—Andrea Martin gets a few laughs as an underappreciated MVP—but there’s a feeling that some of the funniest material came from on-set improv by talented comedians more than being from the script itself. It’s a bit of a shame, really, because the Caribbean setting and atmosphere feel as if they should be fertile ground for much better material. It’s even more of a disappointment considering the talent involved here—there’s a good reason why you almost never hear about Club Paradise anymore even despite its cast and director—it feels like a pale copy of better movies in the same vein.

  • Jeremiah Terminator LeRoy aka JT Leroy (2018)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2022) Even if JT Leroy is already four years old, it now arrives on Canadian cable TV screens at the same time as a spate of films and TV series about high-profile con people and fraudsters. It’s certainly indicative of something in the mood of the time—a reluctant recognition that you can con your way to the White House and do terrible things without facing any consequence, or maybe a deep-seated envy that anyone could get away with deceit if only for a limited time. Not that you’ll find any moralism in JT Leroy—co-written by the woman who helped perpetuate the literary deception, the film takes an aw-shucks approach to lies and misrepresentation, boldly tying itself up to specious feminist analogies as a way to justify itself, dolloping the “downtrodden can get away with anything and no one was really hurt anyway” bromides and hitching its wagon on the trans issues bandwagon. I would probably sound less reactionary if I had actually enjoyed the film, but while JT Leroy does start on a promising note (especially when it can benefit from a likable performance from Laura Dern, even if not such a likable performance from Kristen Stewart), it falls apart during its increasingly meaningless second half that goes over repetitive material in increasingly dull fashion. Or it may just be that I’ve got it up to there with liars who profit from behaviour that would land most of us in severe trouble and I’m not about to be indulgent about yet another showcase for them.

  • Camelot (1967)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2022) It took me until middle age to admit it, but here it goes: I have no affinity for the Arthurian legend. It doesn’t stick. I keep forgetting details, I can’t keep the minor characters straight, and perhaps worst of all—I don’t really care. So, the prospects of a 1960s musical, three hours long, about the Arthurian legends… eh. Well, Camelot is indeed all of that and worse: an interminable slog, devoid of memorable songs, executed in the leaden fashion that led musicals to their graves in the following decade. It’s really not fun (well, with the exception of seeing Vanessa Redgrave here—she’s simply stunning at times), is unable to capitalize on its material and can’t manage to be funny even when it’s trying to be. Lavish production values immobilize the production rather than make it even better, and the actors seem ill at ease with stiff material. You can certainly see Camelot as one of the last dying gaps of the Old Hollywood, released during the year where everything changed for American cinema. There was nowhere else left to go with that kind of aesthetics, and the result still bores by itself fifty-five years later.

  • Drumline (2002)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2022) I watched a lot of movies in theatres between 1997 and 2011, but some of them slipped under my radar, and it’s amusing to rediscover them decades later, wondering how I managed not to see them until now. Drumline is the kind of film that looked like a marginal choice—a drama about a drumming line on a black college orchestra? Eh, maybe? But, of course, that’s not the whole story. A rather endearing blend of sports underdog film mixed with a movie musical, Drumline is about an ambitious young musician clashing with the requirements of a rigidly-led ensemble, but truly finds its heartbeat in expansive musical sequences that use the football field as canvas. The cast is interesting—Nick Cannon as the protagonist, a young Zoe Saldana in an inglorious girlfriend role, and Orlando Jones as the band administrator—, but director Charles Stone III gets the most mileage out of large-scale footage of orchestras performing on the football field, the percussion-heavy soundtrack adding a tremendous amount of energy to the results. Drumline starts modestly, but it clearly bats it out of the park by the time the last reel hits. I’m not unhappy to come across it two decades after release—in the meantime, I’ve become far more familiar with the Hollywood musical tradition, and can see how Drumline has this quasi Berkleyesque quality in the way it makes images out of indistinct bodies. An increasingly fun watch, Drumline is worth a look even now—and it fits right alongside some of the better dance movies of the time.

  • Le divorce (2003)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2022) Calling a film a blender-mix of elements is rarely an entirely positive qualifier, and that certainly applies to Le Divorce’s mixture of subplots, tones, actors, nationalities and characters flying into Paris. Much of the narrative framework of the film has to do with a mixed-nationality couple breaking up, and the messy aftermath of dividing the conjugal assets… especially when there’s a valuable painting in the lot. There’s an interesting sampling of actors spanning generations and oceans, whether it’s Kate Hudson, Naomi Watts, Glenn Close, Stephen Fry, Matthew Modine, Thierry Lhermite and a late high-profile role for Leslie Caron. Directed by James Ivory, Le Divorce zips from one thing to another, as the ensemble cast interacts in a variety of ways, whether it’s the fallout of the divorce (and the husband’s presentation of his new paramour), the fight over the prized painting, an affair between a French politician and a young American, and plenty of other things along the way. The tone is not constrained—we zip from drama to comedy to romance to a final heavy tragic note—and that’s arguably part of the film’s mosaic. The problem, though, is that we get such a sampling of everything that it’s hard for Le Divorce to make a single impression. It’s watchable enough, but not quite enough to be likable.

  • Blacula (1972)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, March 2022) As with many blaxploitation classics, Blacula seems disappointing today: it has a lot of potential, a great premise, plenty of swagger and distinctive characters, but falters in its execution with low production values, muddy cinematography, awkward staging and a poor sense of space and time. Still, the result is a lot of fun if, like me, you’ve got the Bram Stoker plot outline memorized backwards and forward. Setting its action in 1970s Los Angeles, Blacula runs through the usual genre elements, but the twist of placing it among the black community makes it distinctive enough in the vampire pantheon. The cross-hybridization also works the other way, bringing an element of genre horror into blaxploitation and adding depth to its otherwise crime-dominated nature. Director William Crain gets a few breaks in starring the superb Vonetta McGee but it’s not quite enough: The concept and the legend are better than the execution—Blacula is still worth a look, but it’s certainly ripe for a remake.

  • Hitman’s Wife’s Bodyguard (2021)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Netflix Streaming, March 2022) I have surprisingly few specific memories of The Hitman’s Bodyguard, certainly not enough to be all that enthusiastic about sequel Hitman’s Wife’s Bodyguard. Both films are cast-centric, in that they use Ryan Reynolds (The Bodyguard), Samuel L. Jackson (The Hitman) and Salma Hayek (The Wife) for their personas rather than for creating a character. It’s fun because we like these actors (or presumably do) and yet insubstantial because it doesn’t do much more. This sequel certainly relies on hazy memories, as a good chunk of the first film’s conclusion is ignored or rolled-back in an attempt to fuel more good-natured conflict between the characters. We’re back to the same characters without their late-film growth, and that’s how it rolls. Less fortunately, the film can’t quite be bothered to stick to a consistent comic tone. Far too violent for what should be a PG-13 rating but is needlessly pushed to R, it has trouble deciding which register of comic reality it wants to inhabit, with a few pokes in absurdist territory (“Send me a sign!”) that are then walked back in less-entertaining fashion. The result still works, but largely on sheer inertia: Ryan in funny, Jackson is tough, Hayek is crazy and that’s what they were hired for. The by-the-numbers execution is oddly fond of the incongruous-song-during-action-scene trope (something flashy twenty years ago, but is gradually less and less fresh as it goes on), but otherwise relies on stock twists, familiar plot beats and expected moments. It’s certainly watchable, but by the time Hitman’s Wife’s Daughter’s Bodyguard is going to roll around, don’t be surprised if you can only hazily remember its predecessors.

  • Temptation: Confessions of a Marriage Counselor (2013)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2022) It’s been nearly a year since I’ve set out on my Tyler Perry viewing project, and as I start working my way through the last third of his filmography, I’ve become an unlikely fan of his. Not because his films are perfect, but perhaps because they are not. It’s oddly endearing to see him go after his topics with blunt-edged force, cast a long list of attractive actresses, strip down cynical relativism in favour of good old-fashioned moralism and rely on tried-and-true storytelling formulas. Temptation: Confessions of a Marriage Counselor is incredibly flawed, yet oddly entertaining if you’re attuned to Perry’s methods. It’s not a comedy in the Madea universe (he doesn’t even play a role in the film)—instead, it’s part of Tyler’s dramatic line-up, which means a much greater chance to see Tyler stretch himself beyond his comfort zone. That does not happen here: at its heart, Temptation is an old-school morality play about a woman being tempted into straying from her faithful but a bit boring husband (and childhood sweetheart) in favour of a rich, exciting and (eventually, inevitably) morally bankrupt seducer. It’s familiar stuff, executed with the subtlety of an after-school special. (It’s the kind of film in which the moral decrepitude of the protagonist is signposted with her acting drunk throughout the worst of her downfall.)  Don’t start asking too many questions about the plot, because it falls apart—the contrived situations, the preposterous coincidences that come together in the last act, the sheer stupidity of a marriage counsellor gleefully embarking on an affair… it’s crude and still kind of effective in its own way, even when it goes the extra ludicrous mile to punish its adulteress with HIV. But part of the fun is letting go in the face of such emotional manipulation. It does help that, once again, the cast is either attractive or interesting—Jurnee Smollett-Bell looks great even throughout her tragic arc, Brandy Norwood is wonderful, Vanessa Williams plays with an overdone accent and Kim Kardashian… well, I think she could have made it work as a bitchy colleague whose sole plot function is hosting a makeover, but Perry wasn’t going to alter his dialogue to give her something closer to her acting register. As a result, she looks good but feels flat—another flaw that somehow ends up making Temptation livelier. I’ve gone beyond most critical guideposts in my appreciation of Tyler’s movies, but so it goes: I wouldn’t have stuck to my determination to see everything in his filmography if I wasn’t somehow enjoying myself.