Author: Christian Sauvé

  • Carrie (2013)

    Carrie (2013)

    (On TV, October 2016) The tale of Carrie and its remake is almost identical to the one of every other classic horror film and their remake. The remake is usually faithful to the overall structure of the story, but strips away most of the original’s rougher edges and leaves a shorter, slicker but generally featureless remake. Updating the references usually doesn’t mean much for the overall film (who cares if it’s uploaded to YouTube?), while the overall better technical credentials usually mean a less bumpy viewing experience. Seen back-to-back with the original, this Carrie remake is most notable for considerably speeding up the languid pacing of the original: despite being a minute longer, it often feels more evenly interesting than the original, with fewer digressions and dead moments along the way. (Witness the way two scenes featuring the other girls are combined early on as an illustration of how today’s scripts are far more efficient.) While the film is said to go back to Stephen King’s original novel, there’s no doubt that the original film is the template on which this remake is built. Chloë Grace Moretz isn’t bad as the titular Carrie, while Julianne Moore brings considerable credibility to the mother’s role and Judy Greer gets a more substantial role than usual as the sympathetic gym teacher. Kimberley Pierce’s direction is much flatter than the original, though, which helps this remake rank as technically better but far more forgettable.

  • Carrie (1976)

    Carrie (1976)

    (On TV, October 2016) The original Carrie has become a pop-culture reference, but watching the film nowadays is a reminder of both how good Brian de Palma could in his prime, but also how far more fast-paced movies are nowadays. Especially teen thrillers. (The remake, which I saw immediately after this original, clocks in at half an hour shorter despite keeping most plot pieces intact.) I’ve read the Stephen King novel too long ago to faithfully evaluate whether the film is faithful to the novel (I think so), but the main draw here is the way de Palma injects some movie magic in even the simplistic framework of a teen horror movie. Witness the long shots, the split screen, the editing…. It all comes together during the infamous prom sequence. Sissy Spacek is very good as the titular Carrie, sympathetic despite ending the film as a homicidal maniac. John Travolta shows up in an early role. Otherwise, it’s a fair period piece, often far too long for its own good, and overly dramatic in portraying its central mother/daughter conflict—culminating in an overlong climax. Carrie still works thanks to great direction, and the seventies atmosphere is good for a few nostalgic throwbacks.

  • Joy (2015)

    Joy (2015)

    (On Cable TV, October 2016) I thought I’d like Joy more than I did. I may not like director David O. Russell’s penchant for re-using the same actors and relying on improvisational acting rather than structured plotting, but he can usually be counted upon for solid enjoyable films, as well as a few moments de cinéma in-between the more prosaic material. At times, Joy certainly plays to his strengths. As an inspirational story of a woman who rediscovers a talent for invention and takes herself from misery to success, it’s the kind of film that ought to work in most circumstances. At time, various snippets of the film make fantastic vignettes. The scatter-shot nature of the first’s first half is held together by a willingness to blur reality with soap operas, whereas the story takes a marked turn for the better midway through as our protagonist is introduced to the world of shopping via TV networks. But other things work against the film: If you’re not as much of a Jennifer Lawrence fan as Russell appears to be, then it won’t be as effective. What’s worse is the film’s surprisingly blunt messaging about pursuing dreams and being inventive: By the third or fourth time the film beat the same message over and over again, Joy becomes actively irritating about its own themes. It’s surprising to see a veteran director like Russell bump up against this kind of on-the-nose scripting—it certainly undermines the rest of the film. By the time the protagonist has a final face-off with business enemies and ex-partners, Joy feels more exhausting than anything else. Despite the good actors and the feel-good message, Joy feels too leaden and too initially unfocused to be as good as it could be.

  • E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial (1982)

    E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial (1982)

    (Second viewing, on TV, October 2016) I practically never went to the movie theatre as a kid (I didn’t miss it much, and from my parents’ perspective, I can now understand that it was too far, too expensive and too complicated), but I did see E.T. The Extra Terrestrial in theatres and still remember bits and pieces of it. (Most notably Elliott’s initial encounter with E.T.) Later on, the movie became an object of semi-fascination given the time it took to make it to home video, the green VHS cassette and so on. Still, I hadn’t revisited the film in thirty-four years (!) and watching it now kid send me back into a mild trance of nostalgia. I know that some of it is enhanced—the version of the film I watched this time around is the 20th anniversary “walkie-talkie” edition, meaning that whatever spectacular special effects that seem to hold up so well were likely sweetened with CGI. Still, never mind the personal history or the alternate versions: Much of the core of the film is just as good today as it was in 1982, and much of the details seem even better today. E.T., much like Poltergeist, has become a time capsule of kid-centric eighties suburbia and Steven Spielberg’s skills as a director remains obvious in the way the scenes are meticulously built. The story itself is basic to an extent that allows Spielberg to focus on execution rather than plotting. The seams often show in weirdly atonal shifts (the drunk school sequence, the horrifying intrusion of white suits in an ordinary home) but they’re usually quickly patched up by finely observed details and charming performances. As an older viewer, it’s hard to miss the religious symbolism toward the end of the film, or bemoan the simplicity of the story. But those don’t quite capture the magic of the film’s execution, which gets away with flaws that would doom less gifted directors. It’s well worth a look today as one of the most Spielbergian movies in Spielberg’s filmography.

  • Heartbreakers (2001)

    Heartbreakers (2001)

    (On TV, October 2016) Trying to convince someone to see this tepid crime comedy about a mother/daughter pair of con artists quickly takes us to the tawdry: How about twentysomething Jennifer Love Hewitt playing up her cleavage? How about Sigourney Weaver in a lace bodysuit? No? Yet Heartbreakers’ most playful moments are spent playing the naughtiness of its premise (entrap the mark in a marriage, then create an affair and get half his wealth in a divorce settlement), so it’s not as if this is coming out of nowhere. What’s perhaps most disappointing, though, is how restrained the film has to be in order not to offend the masses, play against its stars’ persona and avoid an excessive rating. As such, Heartbreakers often feels like a big compromise, torn between sexiness and prudishness. If it felt free to cut loose with more nudity and explicit references, it could have been better; had it restrained itself and refocused, it could have been better as well. In its weird middle-ground, though, Heartbreakers often feels as if it doesn’t know what to do. Much of the plot points are predictable long in advance, with the conclusion dragging on much longer than it should (past the point most people will care, actually). Weaver’s extended fake-Russian shtick drags on for much longer than advisable, while Hewitt’s prickly romance subplot feels like the same plot point repeated five times. Bits and pieces of the film are amusing: Ray Liotta isn’t much more than adequate, but Gene Hackman cuts loose as a frankly despicable man who falls prey to the protagonists. While the film is a bit too good-natured to be unpleasant, it’s not much more than a mediocre comedy. You’ll smirk a few times, but Heartbreakers could and should have been much better.

  • The House Bunny (2008)

    The House Bunny (2008)

    (On DVD, October 2016) As a film, The House Bunny may work best as a showcase for Anna Faris’s comedic charm than anything else. Taking on campus sorority comedy via a disgraced playboy bunny forced to find a way for herself, this is a film that doesn’t aim too high and seems content with executing its own goals modestly. As it confronts beauty with authenticity, the script laboriously moves through synthesis, antithesis and synthesis is a measured fashion, most plot points perceptible long in advance. Despite the all-inclusive ending, there’s still something uncomfortable in the film’s first half, as playboy-centric beauty seems to be promoted as the ultimate goal. Fortunately, Faris is likable enough as the ditzy heroine to keep the film enjoyable no matter how far away it gets into its short-lived promotion of superficiality. The characters making up the underdog sorority rescued by the protagonist are fun (with particular props to Emma Stone in a pre-stardom role and Dana Goodman for boldly throwing herself in a hilarious character). The moral lessons of the film are deeply muddled (one suspects that giving a supporting role to Hugh Hefner himself is enough to blur whatever good intentions The House Bunny may have about an empowerment message) but the various laughs that the film gets, often through sheer mugging, are good enough to forgive many other transgressions. The House Bunny may be confused, but it is good-natured and, like its animal namesake, is cuddly enough to like despite its flaws.

  • Marie Antoinette (2006)

    Marie Antoinette (2006)

    (On DVD, October 2016) I’m not sure anyone was actively campaigning for a historical re-evaluation of Marie Antoinette (who never actually said “Let them eat cake!”), but she proves to be an irresistible subject for Sofia Coppola’s sympathy-for-the-devil approach. (Dovetailing in her latter The Bling Ring) Portraying a sympathetic young woman finding herself way over her head in the French royal court and the subsequent French Revolution, Marie Antoinette scrupulously ignores the less appealing aspects of the queen’s history (ending well before her execution by the guillotine, for instance, or ignoring the political role she eventually assumed) in favour of a poor-girl-lost routine. While lavish in its recreation of 18th century royal court (with numerous scenes filmed in Versailles itself), Marie Antoinette makes a play toward contemporary sensibilities through an aggressively modern soundtrack and a few deliberate visual anachronisms sprinkled among the pomp and pageantry of royal France. Contrary to some expectations, it actually works: it’s remarkably easy to empathize with a young girl forced to become the queen of a nation, even as she finds refuge in amusements more appropriate for her age, and then motherhood as a way to escape expectations. While it’s probably not a good idea to look upon Marie Antoinette as an accurate history lesson (Read Wikipedia’s entry for a complementary view of the character), it does plunge viewers in a very different time and place, with lavish sets and costumes to reinforce the strange conventions illustrated by the script. Kirsten Dunst is very good as the titular character, with some good supporting performances by Jason Schwartzman (as the meek Louis XI), an atypical role for Steve Coogan (as diplomatic counsellor) and a short but striking turn from Danny Huston. Even those who don’t fancy themselves fans of period pieces will find something to like in Marie Antoinette’s off-beat sensibilities and its compassionate portrayal of a reviled historical figure.

  • Neighbors 2: Sorority Rising (2016)

    Neighbors 2: Sorority Rising (2016)

    (Video on Demand, October 2016) There’s something to be said for consistency in evolution, and so the best thing to say about Neighbors 2: Sorority Rising is that it should make fans of the first film happy without necessarily re-threading its plot. Here, our new-parent homeowners (now expecting Child #2) have to deal with a sorority moving next door, further complicated by the fact that if the girls may be unbearable as a sorority, they’re not unsympathetic on their own or in their overall objectives. It predictable escalates, especially when the party wildcard of the first film (Zac Efron, still remarkably likable) is brought back by one side, and then the other. While the film takes a few minutes to bring together its three subplots, it predictably escalates to tit-for-tat aggression and a ramp-up to a big ultimate party in which everything gets solved. The R-rated humour is rarely subtle or refined, but the film does earn its share of smirks and smiles. Seth Rogan plays Seth Rogan, while Rose Byrne is once again very funny. Neighbors 2: Sorority Rising is not particularly refined filmmaking, but it works at being a crude comedy. Given the suburban ending, though, I wonder where else the series can go from there.

  • Stand by Me (1986)

    Stand by Me (1986)

    (On TV, October 2016) Here’s an interesting factoid that may make you feel unbearably old: It’s now been longer since the release of Stand by Me in 1986 (30 years) than the span of time between the film and the events it depicts in 1959. Nostalgia sneaks up on anyone, even movies consciously built around that emotion. Stand by Me is now best remembered as “that non-horror Stephen King adaptation”, focusing on an affectionate novella published in Different Seasons (a book that also spawned The Shawshank Redemption and Apt Pupil). It’s a movie about kids, but the somewhat sombre framing device makes it a film for adults, and most notably baby boomers born around 1947 like King. As a look at the life of a young teenager in 1959, it luxuriates in a recreation of the era, complete with a near-perfect period soundtrack. It’s not much of a plot-driven film: The goal (“walk to the dead body”) is stated early on, and much of the film becomes an episodic string of events until the end. It even throws in a gratuitously disgusting fictional vignette that ends abruptly to protests. Much of the film’s charm comes from its young actors. Other than Kiefer Sutherland as a bully, Stand by Me does feature an extraordinary group with Wil Wheaton, River Phoenix, Corey Feldman and Jerry O’Connell. Remarkably enough, you can watch the film without being overwhelmed by the actor’s age—other than Sutherland, who already looks like himself, it’s as they are different persons. As a reflection of another era, Stand by Me unabashedly plays up the nostalgia to good effect—the liberties taken by the young character would be horrifying today, even though it’s hard to argue against the dangers they do face along the way. It ends up being a remarkable piece of cinema, still effective today, much later and for entirely different audiences.

  • The Firm (1993)

    The Firm (1993)

    (On Cable TV, October 2016) I’ve complained about this before, so feel free to tune out as I once again complain about the disappearance of the bid-budget realistic thriller in today’s spectacle-driven cinema. A movie like The Firm, adapted from John Grisham’s best-selling novel, focusing on realistic elements and featuring a bunch of well-known actors would be a much tougher sell twenty years later. And that’s too bad, because there’s a lot more to like here than in an umpteenth dull fantasy movie going over the same plot points. While I don’t claim that The Firm is a work of genius, it’s a solid thriller aimed at post-teenage audiences. It did pretty well at the box office, and it’s not hard to understand why in-between good actors such as Tom Cruise, Gene Hackman, a bald Ed Harris, Jeanne Tripplehorn and Holly Hunter working at their peak (with surprising appearances by pre-Saw Tobin Bell as an assassin and Wilford Brimley as a notably evil character) and a story that needles both organized crime and government. The thrills may not feel pulse-pounding by today’s standard, but the film makes up for it through semi-clever plotting, a good handle on the revelations of its material and protagonists sympathetic enough that we’re invested in them rather than the action itself. If I sound like a cranky old critic bemoaning the state of current cinema, it’s largely because The Firm is both an exemplary piece of early-nineties filmmaking and a contrast to today’s similarly budgeted films. It’s got this particular pre-digital patina, a serious intent and actors being asked to actually act throughout the film. I’m not as pessimistic about 2016 cinema as you may guess from this review, but I could certainly stand a few more of those movies today.

  • The Stanford Prison Experiment (2015)

    The Stanford Prison Experiment (2015)

    (On Cable TV, October 2016) I would like to be more enthusiastic about The Stanford Prison Experiment. After all, it’s a well-made film, soberly discussing a striking experiment in human nature. The real-life Zimbardo case study has bewildered generations of psychology students in showing the innate potential for abuse in everyone—a film stickling relatively closely to the facts of the events is close to a public good. But, as unfair as it can be to judge a film of the merits of another, it turns out that the Zimbardo study has already inspired a number of movies, and my memories of 2001’s overtly fictional Das Experiment are still good enough that this more reality-based take on the film feels like a rethread. It’s not fair, I know: The filmmakers behind The Stanford Prison Experiment probably intended to deliver a factual chronicle of the events fit to remain a reference. Instead, their mild-mannered take on the subject feels more perfunctory than anything else. The sober re-creation of its 1970s setting is absorbing, and the way the events quickly spin out of control is still as dumbfounding as anything else. If you haven’t read Philip Zimbardo’s excellent account of the events, or even if you have, then the film should be fascinating. Still, I have the nagging feeling that it could have been a bit better.

  • Gods of Egypt (2016)

    Gods of Egypt (2016)

    (On Cable TV, October 2016) I’m already on record as having an odd fondness for big-budget box-office bombs (they may not be good, but clearly there’s a lot to see on-screen), so you would think that I’d be favourably predisposed toward Gods of Egypt … and I was. There’s the added attraction of seeing director Alex Proyas’ work on the big screen for the first time since Knowing, the willingness to tackle a different mythology and a cast of good actors (albeit, as amply noted, overwhelmingly Caucasian—too bad for the wasted opportunity). On paper, Gods of Egypt sounds fascinating. On the screen, however, it’s another matter: From an unexpectedly cheap title card and an interminable opening monologue that throws viewers into the ice-cold pool of Egyptian mythology without a lifejacket, Gods of Egypt seems determined to sabotage itself even when it shows promise. As far as the 140M$ budget is concerned, you certainly see a lot of it on-screen: Proyas’s vision for the film is ambitious and expansive, and some sequences do capture an impressive sense of visual awe. The actors do their best, with Nikolaj Coster-Waldau getting another noteworthy role outside Game of Thrones and Élodie Yung looking fetching as the Goddess of Love (imagine having that on your filmography). In bits and pieces, still pictures and six-second video, Gods of Egypt works well. But when Gods of Egypt tries to piece the images together and paper over its ambitious vision with a limited special-effects budget, the film implodes. It feels unbearably dull, interminable, and conventional even in its unconventionality. By the end, it plays exactly like the countless other big-budget fantasy snore fests that have tried (and often failed) to parlay mythology and special effects into box-office receipts. Bad attempts at quips rival with unsympathetic characters and more lore than any brain can care about in an undercooked script that lays a bad foundation for the uneven special effects. By the end of the film, I was just thankful that it was over. I suspect that another viewing of the film with low expectations may improve my reaction slightly … but to be frank I can’t imagine being willing to spend another 130 minutes any time soon watching Gods of Egypt again.

  • Central Intelligence (2016)

    Central Intelligence (2016)

    (Video on Demand, October 2016) As much as I like Kevin Hart and Dwayne Johnson as comic performers, there’s something off with Central Intelligence that makes the film feel smaller than their combination would suggest. To its credit, the film does veer off in less simplistic territory than you could expect from the first few minutes: there’s a layer of uncertainty to Johnson’s character that makes the story a bit more self-challenging than expected, even though the ultimate outcome of the various twists is never in doubt. Unfortunately, it’s that same uncertainly that so often prevents the film from snapping fully in focus. Johnson’s character is pushed to such extremes that it’s tough to suspend disbelief that he would exist even in the film’s reality. It doesn’t help that Central Intelligence, in much of the same way as other contemporary action/comedy hybrids, veers back and forth between persona-based improvisation and strictly scripted madcap action scenes. The uneven pacing is an issue, especially when the result runs close to two hours. At least the two lead actors deliver more or less what’s expected of them. Johnson is ready to try anything for a laugh and his charisma helps the film hide some of its more inconsistent problems, but Hart seems a bit held back by the place taken by his co-star and the demands of the production—he’s usually better in more free-flowing films. As for the rest, director Rawson Marshall Thurber keeps things going during the action scenes, perhaps further highlighting the two-speed inconsistency of the film. Still, if you’re in the mood to see Johnson and Hart goof on their respective personas, Central Intelligence will do … although it’s not hard to be disappointed by how much better the film should have been.

  • Deadpool (2016)

    Deadpool (2016)

    (Netflix Streaming, October 2016) The behind-the-scenes context surrounding Deadpool (a passion project for Ryan Reynolds, his occasion to atone for Wolverine and Green Lantern; perhaps his last chance to establish himself as a blockbuster lead megastar; the risky bet of an R-rated superhero movie; the unexpected box-office triumph of the film; the provocative comparisons with Batman vs Superman; and so on…) is almost more interesting than the film itself … which is saying something considering how successful the result on-screen can be. Deadpool arrives at a perfect time in the evolution of superhero movies—a time when the basics have been covered, a time at which superhero fatigue is settling in and experimentation can be rewarded. Hence the success of a satirical (but not parodic) take on the usual superhero origin story, commenting on its predecessors, frequently breaking the fourth wall and delivering far more R-rated violence, sexual content and vulgarity than is the norm in mainstream superhero PG-13-land. Ryan Reynolds finally crackles and shines as the lead character, using charm and humour to enliven a character that could have been unbearable played by someone else. Morena Baccarin more than holds her own as the female lead, playing a more interesting character than usual for this kind of role. Deadpool is all about its irreverence, and it consciously dials down the scale and scope of its story in favour of finely tuned execution. It certainly works, what with structural backflips, taut editing, rapid-fire gags and enough satirical jabs to confound anyone who hasn’t been seeing enough superhero movies. It’s not perfect, almost by design: the profanity-laced humour doesn’t always avoid feeling juvenile, the lightweight story is familiar despite its successful execution and it’s very much a film made for the comic-book crowd. (More general audiences aren’t necessarily excluded, but trying to explain even short jokes like “Stewart or McAvoy?” can take a while.) Still, it’s a fun movie to watch, and it certainly meets the considerable expectations that it had to meet from its core audience. Unfortunately, there will be a sequel … and that one will have to try twice as hard not to become an ugly parody of itself. We’ll see.

  • Insurgent (2015)

    Insurgent (2015)

    (On Blu-ray, September 2016) The recent proliferation of teenage dystopias has been made worse by the sameness of their premise and the shameless way they all adopted the same ways to talk to teenagers. As a latecomer to the party, the Divergent series has to contend with a stronger sense of déjà vu, and as a middle volume in a series, Insurgent has a harder time distinguishing itself from other, often better competitors. Here, the nonsensical adventures of our heroine continue without too many revelations: There is now an open rebellion against the established order, and the order doesn’t like that at all. Shailene Woodley does fine as the super-special protagonist, but there isn’t much in this instalment to keep viewers interested. The sole exception worth mentioning are the oneiric segments in which our lead character deals with surreal fantasies: the visual polish of these sequences in fascinating, and for a moment or two the film manages to be better than its own material. (Heck, it even had me unexpectedly patting myself on the back for watching this on Blu-ray rather than DVD.) Then Insurgent goes back to reality, a cackling Miles Teller as the wildcard (the only other actor who manages to emerge from this film with some dignity) and more groundwork laid for the next volume. As I write this, the plans for the Divergent series have almost entirely collapsed, with a planned fourth instalment being either put on hiatus or being redesigned as a TV show pilot. Given the lack of interest of the series so far, I’m not exactly complaining.