Author: Christian Sauvé

  • Stand! (2019)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2022) It took me a very long time, far more than I would have anticipated, for me to warm up to Stand!—and even then, the film limped across the finishing line, barely above what I’d consider to be the strict minimum. I’m as surprised as you are—after all, I have a well-documented linking for musical comedies, and taking a look at one obscure and inglorious aspect of Canadian history (the Winnipeg General Strike of 1919 and let’s be clear: the “inglorious” part of it was the government overreaction, not the strike itself) is squarely in my wheelhouse. But I am picky about my musicals, and the one style that grates on my nerves is the earnest have-everybody-sing kind of stage musicals, of which Stand! is a sometimes too-faithful adaptation. The result is a film that doesn’t have the grace and power of good film musicals: under Robert Adetuyi’s direction, it simply feels like a film with songs awkwardly inserted in the middle of the narrative, and with no striking choreography to speak of. Focusing the story on an immigrant Romeo-and-Juliet romance is laudable, but it also muddies much of the historical records that the film should represent (let alone hammering more modern language in an attempt to add further thematic weight in a story that already has plenty of it). Things get better toward the end of the film, as the sakes are raised and the songs become more self-assured. But while Stand! eventually works its way to a not-terrible conclusion, it’s hard to avoid the conclusion that it could have been much, much better.

  • The Many Saints of Newark (2021)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2022) As anyone else with a working knowledge of 21st-century American pop culture, I’m aware of the Sopranos in broad detail despite never having watched much of the show. I was certainly aware of the challenge of this ignorance in watching prequel movie The Many Saints of Newark: would it make sense to a neophyte viewer? Or would it be crammed with an endless parade of references? The answer is half-satisfying: in trying to present the formative experiences of series lead Tony Soprano, writer/showrunner David Chase provides enough of a lifeline to enjoy the film as a period crime film. Michela De Rossi is audience-friendly as the new immigrant bride who experiences this new environment—while she’s not the movie’s lead (and leaves well before the film is through), she helps introduce us to the ensemble cast as mob matters and racial violence come to dominate the Newark, New Jersey surroundings. The story is occasionally strong enough to work as a standalone low-stake crime film, but that’s not necessarily an endorsement of The Many Saints of Newark for those new to the Soprano universe—even to those who never watched the show, the film is crammed with puzzling moments that clearly herald a cameo by a character that would be significant in the series, and it goes without saying that a good chunk of the film’s dramatic ironies and portents are completely lost on neophytes. Still, the film does have gripping moments, whether it’s sudden explosions of violence (either social or personal—that honking scene), and credibly portrays on a limited budget the impact of the racial riots of 1967 over a mixed neighbourhood. There’s an interesting ensemble cast even if most performances are short and allude to something else. It could have been worse (such as the shrug left by Ray Donovan: The Movie, a very similar project released almost simultaneously) but let’s not try to pretend that The Many Saints of Newark marks an effective entry point into the Sopranos’ continuity.

  • The Cobbler (2014)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, January 2022) If The Cobbler is remembered for anything these days, it’s for having earned some disastrous reviews for both star Adam Sandler and writer-director Tom McCarthy. The bad reviews thing is not new for Sandler, but for McCarthy, it was a rare misfire in-between Academy Award nominations. As a reviewer, my first order of business in (belatedly) tacking The Cobbler was to determine if it was as bad as they said, and then (when the first point was proven) understanding how things went wrong in this story of a cobbler discovering a magical way to become those who leave their shoes with him. To sum my thesis up in a pithy statement, what happened was a classic mismatch between star and material, as well as between expectations and delivery. The Cobbler, at its heart, is meant as a piece of fantasy, taking a look at the local heroes that become part of the landscape—such the small shop owners that give heart to a neighbourhood. It’s a drama with odds twists and turns that would have made more sense had the film been executed as a low-budget independent film with character actors and low expectations. But putting Sandler in such a framework creates a monster—Sandler being Sandler, he can’t help but put his own stamp on the result, upsetting its balance. The other monster being created is that expectations for the film scale up to an unsustainable level, and in a broad comedy genre that the film had no intention of aiming for. I’m not calling The Cobbler a misunderstood classic, mind you: even in the best possible circumstances, it’s an odd assortment of moments that don’t work and can’t work in anything approaching mainstream sensibilities. There’s a blend of comedy, fantasy, crime, drama, tragedy and blunt-force emotional manipulation that feels like an assortment of leftovers blended together more out of daredevil glee than flavour consistency. Still, what we have here are not ideal circumstances: Sandler doesn’t fit as a humble Brooklyn shopkeeper, and he always jumps at the chance to broaden the film’s comedy beyond its shape. It doesn’t help that the premise feels too dumb to suspend disbelief, and that most of the plot developments barely make any sense. Whatever the film was going for by literalizing “walking in other people’s shoes” is lost when everyone attempts to do a Sandler impersonation. (Or worse: Sandler’s character using other bodies as ways to be mischievous and possibly a rapist.)  And the ending—ho boy, the ending. It doesn’t amount to an unjustly overlooked film: it amounts to a bad film, but a bad film whose flaws were made unforgivable by Sandler trying to get some serious creds from McCarthy (admittedly a ploy that was worked at least three other times) and McCarthy trying to get box-office clout from Sandler. The result is still a mess, and one that teeters on the edge of “You have to see this” if only to suffer through the ticker-tape parade of bad decisions that led to the final result.

  • Le vrai du faux [Real Lies] (2014)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, January 2022) As much as I’ve got some homegrown pride for the French-Canadian film industry, it’s not infallible and it has some built-in failure modes that often undermine its best intentions. Low budgets are definitely a factor, but on a creative level, the bigger issue is how Quebec-focused films with aspirations of popular success have to reach for comedy in order to make it past the media filter. (The occasional exceptions are historical films.)  That often leads to some curious tonal issues, as exemplified by Le vrai du faux. While eventually pitched as a meditation on what’s true in fiction and what’s fictive in truth, the film struggles almost endlessly between its best intentions and its low execution. As a French-Canadian director of action movies strives to silence his critics by striving for weightier material, he lands on the idea of directing a raw documentary on the struggles of a PTSD-afflicted Afghanistan veteran. That’s not exactly comedy material, but you wouldn’t know it for much of the film. After all, it’s headlined by comedian Stéphane Rousseau, populated by more comedians in supporting roles, driven by comedic screenwriting (all the way to a ridiculous supporting character meant as a satire on overly sensitive males), and clearly patterned as a comedy by veteran director Émile Gaudreault, also best-known for comedies. Except that the film decides to be serious in portraying the veteran’s struggles, giving voice to his frustrations at not being understood by his family, delving into the source of his trauma, and arguing for more sensitivity. But at the speed and unpredictability at which the film flips moods are such that the entire thing feels like a misguided concept: there’s no way this premise should have been a comedy. Except that comedy sells French-Canadian films. Le vrai du faux is not quite a disaster : if you focus on the comedy at the risk of trivializing an important subject matter, the film gets a few solid lines (even if it mishandles some other material, such as a protagonist so lacking in self-awareness as to court caricature), and the idea of transporting the action from Montréal to the sweeping alien vistas of Thetford Mines’ open-air quarries is something that brings a lot of visual interest to the film. (Cue the director character being enthusiastic about the cinematic qualities of the setting.)  It plays with a steady forward momentum despite a few odd turns, but the ending feels trite because it’s stuck between the comic requirements of its shifting tone and the more serious subject matter that it can’t quite satisfy. But that’s the reality for Quebec films aspiring at box-office success… although there’s some cold irony in noting that Le vrai du faux still ended up being a box-office flop even by French-Canadian standards.

  • The Shack (2017)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2022) As someone who’s not targeted nor receptive to Christian-themed filmmaking (yes, the irony is thick), it took me a long time to get to The Shack. After all, the story surrounding the film is arguably more interesting than the film itself. The novel on which it’s based was initially written for a family audience, then was turned into a self-published book that slowly gathered attention thanks to marketing focused on religious audiences. Eventually becoming a best-selling mainstream sensation, the book’s ultimate destination to the big screen seemed a foregone conclusion given the small-but-robust market segment for such films. Executed with some talent and a budget generous enough to accommodate the special effects work required by the plot, The Shack did relatively well for a religious-themed film: it made its costs back, got great reviews from its intended audience and not-as-bad-as-expected reviews from mainstream critics. (To be clear: the critical consensus on the film is negative, but not as overwhelmingly so as many other similar films packed for religious audiences.)  Seen today, now that the hype of the book and the film have died down, what remains is half-silly and half-spiritual but not intolerable. The worst plot contrivances happen early on, as a series of happenstances are combined with the intervention of a child serial killer (!) to send our grieving protagonist (Sam Worthington) in a self-destructive spiral of guilt and self-loathing. That’s already asking a lot of good will from the audience, but the goal of such a preposterous setup is to have the protagonist reach a spiritual awakening by having him “imagine” a meeting with God, as personified by Octavia Spencer (also Graham Greene), Aviv Alush and Sumire Matsubara. That casting is indeed God-like, and it’s set against a luminously idyllic British Columbia backdrop. What’s perhaps as surprising as it is underwhelming is what God says—feel-good platitudes that often have more to do with modern self-actualization gurus than anything in the Bible. It’s not uninteresting, mind you—but the gap between divine profundity and what the script delivers can be more than just annoying. As far as conversations-with-God go, it meets the bare minimum but often feels far too pat to be fully convincing. This being said, I still liked it—there’s an intention to make this as soothing and comforting as possible (with occasional shocks) that plays well despite the wild framing material. Arguing with The Shack is practically mandatory: it’s very amusing to read how the book and the film got bad reviews from both secularists and theologians. At least the production values are high enough that it feels like a real movie rather than the poor low-budget efforts so prevalent in that market segment. And let’s not underestimate the power of casting: there’s some built-in viewing pleasure in seeing those industry veterans Spencer and Greene finally add “God” on their resumés. I’m still not ranking the film all that highly, but I’ve definitely seen worse, and would rather see The Shack again (maybe fast-forwarding over the framing device) than many other acclaimed yet intolerable films out there.

  • L’odyssée (2016)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2022) At first glance, the idea of a warts-and-all biography of French oceanographer Jacques Cousteau seems both essential and redundant: Cousteau is nearly a modern-day icon, his work in vulgarizing ocean science having reached generations of people. (Although his influence is definitely waning decades after his death—today’s younger audiences may be more familiar with the Wes Anderson parody of him in The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou than having experienced his TV specials first-hand as I did as a boy.)  Is there more to say? Well, yes: While L’odyssée doesn’t quite stand as a definitive take on the man, its multi-decade narrative spanning everything from the immediate aftermath of WW2 to the 1980s offers glimpses at a man who had a tumultuous personal life, scientific ambitions that were left behind by the modern world, and personal failings that were magnified by his fame. At slightly more than two hours, the film has trouble fitting all of the biographical material in itself (Cousteau’s wartime heroics are definitely given short thrift) but still manages to cram a lot in there. As befitting its subject, the film does feature some great underwater footage and decent production values despite often reaching beyond the confines of its budget. Cousteau’s ascendancy to media fame is portrayed methodically, as are the issues inherent is transforming solid-but-dull science into something made for the masses. Cousteau’s marital indiscretions are mentioned, but you will have to step out of the film to learn more about his “second family.”  The same goes for much of his tainted legacy and the gradual fading of his dreams of underwater colonization—mentioned but not dwelled upon, as Cousteau’s later years were definitely not as glorious as his heydays of media fame. Still, the film serves as a visually interesting primer on Cousteau-the-man as compared to the legend. Lambert Wilson does well in a good role spanning decades of aging, as does Audrey Tautou in an often-inglorious role as the wife reminding Cousteau of his obligations to their relationship. As most flashy biopics go, L’odyssée is best watched as a condensed collection of high points rather than a serious biography: but it did spur me to read Cousteau’s Wikipedia pages (The French one is more complete) and learn a lot about him in the process. There are defendable choices in how his story is presented on-screen, choosing an Antarctic endpoint more triumphant than the slow fade (and financial implosion) that his career experienced to the end. But that’s the nature of biopics—celebrate the highs, acknowledge the lows but leave audiences on a high note. Not good science or history, but good entertainment. Cousteau would probably chuckle at the parallels.

  • Only Lovers Left Alive (2013)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, January 2022) It’s a good thing I’m watching Only Lovers Left Alive now rather than upon release, as I simply would have dismissed writer-director Jim Jarmusch’s vampire meditation as self-indulgent twaddle. Oh, I haven’t become a big Jarmusch fan in the meantime, but I can at least now recognize when he’s trying something that goes beyond plot-driven genre fare. I may even have developed some tolerance for meditative filmmaking focused on mood rather than narrative. Not that narrative is entirely absent here, but it certainly takes a back-seat to atmosphere and dialogue, as the film focuses on a pair of long-lived vampire lovers pondering how to live in a twenty-first century that frequently confounds them. There’s some interesting character study in the Byronic romantic tradition here, with Tom Hiddleston as a musician trying to keep his profile low even while dismissing humans as zombies. Then there’s the ever-alien Tilda Swinton as his lover/muse trying to keep his suicidal impulses in check, and John Hurt briefly popping up as a vampire Christopher Marlowe, having secretly written Shakespeare’s body of work. There isn’t much point to the entire thing, as the story goes from Tangiers to Detroit and back—and if you’re expecting horror, even the blood-drinking killing is all very muted. But there are a few interesting moments here for those tired of the same-old vampire shtick: Jarmusch turns a character-first lens to familiar tropes and what he gets out of it may not be that startlingly original, but it’s reasonably interesting as long as you’re in a receptive mood. Jarmusch is in his own subgenre, and you can either like it or leave it. I thought it was better than many of his other films, although the romantic angle doesn’t allow for the comedy that characterizes some of my favourite films of his. As a result, there’s a limit to how much I liked Only Lovers Left Alive—but I certainly didn’t hate it, and that may not have been true a few years ago.

  • The Bachelor Father (1931)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2022) Even the most ordinary pre-Code films have their charms, and so The Bachelor Father’s enduring impression is based on its very casual depiction of fatherhood, as a British aristocrat decides one day to track down his three estranged children (from decades-ago liaisons) and recall them to his estate for a reconciliation. For those young men and women, it’s like winning the lottery—even more so for one of them, as she is unaware of her parentage. Movie secrets have a tendency to form the backbone of third acts, so it’s not any big wonder if that ends up being The Bachelor Father’s eventual climax. (Along with some transatlantic flying—recall that Lindbergh had completed the first such flight only four years prior.)  Marion Davis is not bad as the unaware unrelated young woman, while C. Aubrey Smith (reprising his role from the theatrical version) doesn’t too badly in the older man’s role, despite built-in objections to him as the worst father ever. While not particularly funny nor heartwarming, The Bachelor Father nonetheless goes down smoothly as a competent Pre-Code film, a bit racier than later movies and generally handled well enough in an appropriately short running time.

  • Rock ’n’ Roll High School (1979)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2022) Cinephile live for the small surprises—those films that end up being much better than expected, bringing together bits and pieces of pop culture and managing to be hilarious along the way. Going cold into Rock ’n’ Roll High School, I was expecting something very familiar—some kind of silly high-school comedy with the teens facing off against the teachers against a rock-and-roll soundtrack. That’s what this film is, true, but I wasn’t counting on a few add-ons: a heavy presence from The Ramones, and an absurdist one-gag-every-thirty-seconds kind of high comedy. I strongly suspected the film would be much better than I expected the moment I saw the ever-wonderful Mary Woronov pop up on-screen, and I wasn’t disappointed—although her frequent on-screen partner Paul Bartel has a funnier role and, if the film’s production history is to be believed, was the reason why The Ramones were selected as the film’s band. The story is nothing we haven’t seen before, what with music-mad protagonists attending a rock concert and running up against their high school’s overly rigid administration along the way. But it’s the cheerfully over-the-top comic tone of Rock ’n’ Roll High School that sets it apart, with the laughs (not chuckles—laughs) frequently coming until the apocalyptic end. While I’m not the biggest The Ramones fan in the world, their continued presence in the film was a welcome reminder about the energy of their discography: who can’t resist their biggest-hits concert in the middle of the film? Woronov is terrific as the rigid principal, while Bartel also makes an impression as a Ramones convert—on the protagonist side, Dey Young and P. J. Soles make a dynamic duo as the two Ramones-obsessed girls driving the plot. Even the teenage rebellion angle (not so reliably funny to this now-middle-aged reviewer) remains amusing due to the excesses of the comedy and the final act. A good example of a “you won’t believe what I caught on late-night cable TV last evening” recommendation, Rock ’n’ Roll High School is a great blend of good comedy and now-classic music.

  • Repeat Performance (1947)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2022) Crime noir crashes into supernatural fantasy in Repeat Performance, a suspense film in which a woman having murdered her husband wishes she could do it all over… and finds herself reliving the events of the past year, an aghast witness at how history seems fated to repeat itself. Not much of a rational explanation is ever provided for the do-over (other than wishing really, really hard) and the film does have a few challenges in selling its premise. There are also some built-in problems in beginning the story as close to the murder as possible, then having to constantly establish who’s who and how their new role in this repeated year differs (or not) from what happened before the film began. Still, this is a wonderfully weird and different film noir—the fantastical elements add a lot to the usual elements of a neo-gothic thriller and it’s not as if they are tangential: remove the do-over and the whole thing becomes meaningless, and the film doesn’t really try to pretend that this is all taking place in the lead character’s head. Much of the plotting is driven by irony, as events keep falling into the same configurations despite the protagonist’s attempts to change the course of the future. Joan Leslie is not bad in the lead role, with director Alfred L. Werker handling everything in unobtrusive matter-of-fact fashion. Deservedly rescued by the dregs of oblivion by the Film Noir Foundation, Repeat Performance isn’t an all-time classic, but it’s sufficiently different to be worth a look for either film noir buffs or time-loop fans: a classic Hollywood film that plays with elements that would pop up more distinctively in later movie eras.

  • Tale of a Vampire (1992)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, January 2022) Fully playing up the archetype of the brooding romantic vampire, Tale of a Vampire makes great use of Julian Sands as an old-school vampire who spends his days brooding after an old century-dead flame, conducting scholarly research and reluctantly feeding upon animals and the dregs of society. Compared to many other vampire films, it feels almost refreshing in its classical nature: the horror is not always played up, and the melancholic nature of its protagonist almost makes him sympathetic—especially when he’s manipulated by an old rival in meeting a woman who reminds him of his long-dead love. Unfortunately, there’s a penalty for going with the torpid brooding: much of the film is far less interesting than it should have been. While a first viewing may coast a long time on the promise that this is all leading to something interesting, writer-director Shimako Sato can’t quite make good use of his promising elements to turn out something that goes beyond the evocation of an interesting situation. Sure, there’s something sexy and likable about cute librarians being romanced in the stacks by suave immortal undead creatures… but once that’s firmly established in the opening act of the film, it doesn’t go beyond that. Too bad—although I suspect that the film plays better now as a forgotten film than upon initial release in the early 1990s when it had to contend with a full-blown romantic vampire craze. (There’s also a clear line from this film to the Twilight series.) But that’s the way it goes—those who like atmospheric films will like Tale of a Vampire better than plot-driven audiences. It’s still a bit better than your average vampire film.

  • Batman: The Dark Knight Returns (2013)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2022) In order to make my life easier, I’m going to ignore how Batman: The Dark Knight Returns is presented as two separate films, and consider them as one. Released four months apart, both are halves of the same Frank Miller graphic novel, and I’m not even sure there would be a situation in which you’d get one but not the other. The story more or less seamlessly flows from one to the other, and the cast and crew are nearly identical from one to the other. The only reason to split them apart is that, as a remarkably faithful adaptation of a thick graphic novel, it clocks in at a total of 152 minutes—too long for its kind of direct-to-video animated film. Now, if there’s such a thing as a “lukewarm fan,” that would describe my reaction to the original graphic novel: while I rather like its then-groundbreaking take on the Batman and Superman characters, Miller does remain a problematic writer and the art style of the book is nothing short of atrocious from my aesthetic perspective. I was very, very surprised at the faithfulness of this animated adaptation, which barely softens some of the fascistic edges of the original (even calling them out by name, as if to ask what we’re going to do about it) and even keeps the Reageanesque Cold War elements. I suppose that the jaundiced take on the DC universe plays more widely in 2012 than in 1987: thanks to the expansion and self-awareness of the modern comics universe, we’re now far more used to alternate takes on superheroes, especially rough and violent ones. As a result, there’s a feeling that this animated film doesn’t have to do as much heavy lifting as the graphic novel, nor pull its punches. (I also suppose that a large portion of its viewing public will be familiar with the original and would not have forgiven wide deviations.)  Batman: The Dark Knight Returns makes for a rather good elseworld Batman film, though: often forgotten due to its direct-to-video pedigree, it’s nonetheless a film that pokes at the core of the character, retains the high-tension fight with Superman, examines the burden of loneliness that comes with the character (all the way to awkwardly resolving it at the climax) and keeps much of the warts-and-all nature of the original. I quite liked it, to the point of wondering why it’s taken me ten years to finally get to it. Recommended to DC graphic novel fans—it’s surprisingly committed to a faithful adaptation.

  • The Honeymoon Killers (1970)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2022) The early 1970s aren’t known for fun fluffy movies. In fact, those years were nearly a high watermark of sort for gritty crime drama. In other words—the perfect time for films such as The Honeymoon Killers, a deliberately black-and-white grainy docu-fictive take on a killing couple that preys upon lonely women through lonely-hearts services. Writer-director Leonard Kastle makes the most out of his low-budget by being as stark and realistic as he can be out of necessity. The impact is still effective today, especially considering that the lead actors of the film, Shirley Stoler and Tony Lo Bianco, cheerfully remained outside the Hollywood star system. However, the ransom of this effectiveness is obvious: The Honeymoon Killers is raw and often unpleasant to watch—both low budget and high concept combining to make a film you won’t necessarily watch on a whim to be entertained. But that is also how much of the early 1970s turned out for many cinephiles.

  • It Happened Tomorrow (1944)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2022) One of the most interesting aspects of watching classic Hollywood is seeing them grapple with classic science fiction or fantasy themes in a context where these ideas had not yet permeated in the general population. Tentative over-explanations, basic treatments and now-obvious twists presented as shattering conclusions are part of the experience, and It Happened Tomorrow doesn’t quite deviate from that tradition, as it takes a very long time to make the most out of its anticipating-the-future-through-tomorrow’s-newspaper premise. Director René Clair eventually takes his material somewhere interesting (the last twenty minutes of the film are quite good), but the early going is a drag, as It Happened Tomorrow seems almost afraid to commit to its Lord Dunsaney-inspired supernatural plot device. Otherwise, the film is presented in a rather straightforward fashion, with a newspaperman trying to resolve his romantic and financial issues with knowledge of what tomorrow will bring. There’s almost certainly a better movie out there making use of those elements, but let’s be honest—much of the appeal of It Happened Tomorrow is in seeing how it comes to grips with its own premise, as a period piece in more ways than one.

  • Eye on Juliet (2017)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, January 2022) I’ve been bouncing all over Kim Nguyen’s filmography lately, trying to understand how he could go from an oneiric fantasy in 2002 (Le marais) to a hard-core techno-thriller sixteen years later (The Hummingbird Project) and every film in-between has been a graduated step from one end to the other. In Eye on Juliet, for instance, we have a modern-day romance facilitated by (barely fictional) robot drones remote-controlled from across the globe. Here, a young American man keeping track on a North-African pipeline from Detroit is gradually drawn into the life of a young couple over there, and sets out to facilitate their emigration. Bridging the link between Un ours et deux amants and The Hummingbird Project, there’s some high technology, some romance and some dreamlike interludes, as the magic of automated translation and some unusual characters give an added dimension to the techno-tools used here. There are some inevitable similarities here with such similar drone thrillers as Good Kill or Eye in the Sky, but a few specific peculiarities as well. If Eye on Juliet has its limits, however, it’s in being perhaps more interesting conceptually than through an overlong execution even at 96 minutes –a sign of an undercooked premise stretched too long. It probably would have worked better as an anthology segment than a feature-length film. On the other hand, it’s a clear progression in Nguyen’s filmography.