Author: Christian Sauvé

  • Hung fan kui [Rumble in the Bronx] (1995)

    Hung fan kui [Rumble in the Bronx] (1995)

    (On TV, September 1998) I just love everything done by Jackie Chan, but even I must agree that Rumble in the Bronx is one of his weakest effort that I’ve seen. Nothing really interesting happens in the first hour for one thing, and the supporting actors aren’t very strong… though the girls are cute. Unlike Supercop and First Strike (other slow-starting Chan films), the comedic bent of the script isn’t strong enough to sustain the first half. Things pick up soon afterward, just in time for a series of rather good action sequences, and a finale involving a hovercraft and a Lamborghini. Guilty pleasure, but fun.

  • Ronin (1998)

    Ronin (1998)

    (In theaters, September 1998) In many ways a throwback to the bare-bone spy thrillers of years past, as given away by the less-than-perfect lettering at the end. The plot is irrelevant, the goal is unknown but the acting is solid and the action scenes are shot is a way that’s not too confusing or hectic. Granted, there are plot holes here and there, as well as details that should have been spelled out, but Ronin is so well-executed that you might not care, except for the lacklustre finale. The two car chases are among the best action sequences seen this year, and the acting of De Niro and Jean Reno is superb as usual. Ronin has a feel that’s significantly different from most other action movies released this year, and should be seen if only for that.

    (Second viewing, On DVD, November 2000) The very good and the rather disappointing intersect in this quasi-seventies thriller by legendary directory John Frankenheimer. The very good is easy to identify: The two spectacular car chases and the interplay between the actors—most notably Jean Reno and Robert de Niro. The flaws are more subtle, but no less annoying: The disjointed script that goes nowhere, the reliance over genre clichés and a huge silver MacGuffin. The DVD director’s commentary helps figure out what happened: A good original script (available elsewhere on the web, I believe) being reworked at the director’s whim. (It’s not a good thing to hear “I always wanted to do something about figure skating, so we changed the ending to take place there.”) Action fans and Jean Reno junkies owe it to themselves to see Ronin at least once: despite all its other flaws, it’s a solid thriller.

  • The Probability Broach, L. Neil Smith

    Tor, 1980 (1996 rewrite), 305 pages, C$7.99 mmpb, ISBN 0-812-53875-7

    Reviewing The Probability Broach is going to be impossible to do without talking politics. (Some readers may wish to leave at this point)

    The reason is simple: L. Neil Smith has been a Libertarian for (says the blurb) more than thirty years and this novel espouses his chosen political views perfectly. The Probability Broach is one of the purest, hardest political propaganda SF I’ve read in a long while.

    Which does not mean that the novel sucks. I know, I know: You would expect novels-with-a-message to be stuffy, boring and insufferably didactical. While The Probability Broach does have its slow moments, it usually charges ahead with the readability usually associated with Heinlein. Edward Bear is a policeman in an alternate America where economic decline is so evident that private corporations are slowly being annexed by the government, cities are in full-scale decay, corruption is omnipresent and air-conditioning equipment is illegal. Your basic dystopian scenario.

    Through a freak series of circumstances following his investigation of a strange murder, Bear finds himself transported in another dimension where everyone wears weaponry, but also where the standard of living is immeasurably higher than even our own Earth. What’s more, this is a completely libertarian America: There isn’t much of a central authority but everyone seems to get along quite well.

    A fertile ground for political propaganda? Of course. Smith spends most of The Probability Broach explaining how (well) his anarcho-capitalist system works. All his characters are unusually well-articulated, and like the best Heinleinian characters, they speak as if any other opinion is obviously, laughably wrong.

    From the above, I wouldn’t expect a good novel and yet, I was fascinated by Smith’s utopia. Despite thinking that Libertarianism is really inappropriate, I felt that Smith’s world was an interesting place.

    Up to a certain point, then, The Probability Broach is convincing. But even if it would not have been, the truckloads of ideas brought forward by the novel are enough to make this a must-read for anyone even remotely concerned with innovation. (The Libertarian Congress session, in particular, is a hoot.) In a sense, I’m grateful that Smith vulgarized the ideals of the Libertarian movements to make them accessible to a wider readership. Mixing gritty murder mystery with a classic science-fiction approach to exhibit political ideas is a great idea. The characters are fun, again in a Heinleinian everyone-is-ultra-competent way. Female characters are well-handled, even though they too suffer -benefit?- from the Heinleinian beautiful-and-smart-and-tough stereotype. Despite the original publication date (1983), the novel doesn’t feel dated, though some seventies-era gadgets (talking chimps and dolphins, environmental concerns) add a charming eeriness to the whole.

    I had fun going through The Probability Broach. Few novels read recently even approach it in term of pure readability. There might not be much of a plot, but the whole book is pure delight anyway. Of course, people with low tolerance for sermonning might disagree, but they’re probably not the kind of people who enjoyed Heinlein’s novels either.

    Even if you do not consider yourself a political theorist, a libertarian or an anarcho-capitalist, I’d recommend The Probability Broach. I found in it most of what initially attracted me to SF: Strange, new ideas worth evaluating, crystal-clear prose, strong readability and a happy ending. Preachy, sure, but that’s part of the fun.

    (For the record, I consider myself a complete centrist in political terms. This, of course, is easier to achieve in Canada than in the USA. Even though I tend to consider politics as a spectator sport, I respect the idea of democracy too much not to vote, but am too cynical to vote for any of the major parties. While writing the above review, it dawned on me that I had voted Libertarian during the last federal election!)

  • Raging Bull (1980)

    Raging Bull (1980)

    (On TV, September 1998) Right after watching this cine-biography of boxer Jake LaMotta, I felt indifferent. Shot in stark black-and-white, with unsympathetic characters and an episodic structure, Raging Bull is not a movie that lets itself being instinctively liked. But as the days passed, I kept thinking at the movie and as the cliché goes, it grew on me: the skill of director Martin Scorsese and actors Robert DeNiro and Joe Pesci is obvious, some images and lines of dialogue stay in mind and the result is nothing short of the classic movie that Raging Bull is. Not bad. Not bad at all.

  • Primal Fear (1996)

    Primal Fear (1996)

    (On TV, September 1998) It’s no mean feat for a courtroom drama to sustain interest when any sufficiently intelligent viewer can guess the major plot twists coming around at least one good half-hour before they happen. Usually, I try to go along with the game, but Primal Fear didn’t help out by revealing its oh-so-clever premise in the opening line (“What do you do when you know your client is guilty?” Duuuh! What do you think will happen, now??) The usage of standard thriller gimmicks (the sex videotape; oh, how shocking!) also lets the plot being comfortably predictable. Yet, Primal Fear is not a complete waste of time, mostly due to the good acting by Richard Gere, Laura Linney and Edward Norton. It’s also nicely directed, and the script (despite its predictability) is entertaining. Catch it on TV.

  • La Cité des Enfants Perdus [The City Of Lost Children] (1995)

    La Cité des Enfants Perdus [The City Of Lost Children] (1995)

    (On TV, September 1998) Once upon a while comes a movie so radically different from a visual viewpoint that it transcends its own weaknesses and becomes something of a gem. La Cité des Enfants Perdus is such a movie. Story, script, characters: Okay, but could have been better. But the visuals, however, probably can’t be improved. The vision is “steampunk”, a dark and grimy fantasy world of high-tech concepts executed with Victorian-era technology made of glass and brass. None of director Jeunet’s characters are beautiful; most are grotesque. The film is packed with delightful visual inventions. It is not enough to see it once. A very worthy video rental.

  • Knock Off (1998)

    Knock Off (1998)

    (In theaters, September 1998) Delightfully bad. Not only from an acting standpoint (Jean-Claude Van Damme, Rob Schneider… duh?) but also from the technical angle, where almost every possible camera trick is used in the first fifteen minutes. Knock Off is a study in how to mishandle an action sequence: Stuff that would have been incredible in John Woo’s hands (eg; the supermarket fight) ends up tepid here. Granted, Knock Off makes more sense when considered as a Hong Kong action movie that happens to star van Damme, but that doesn’t really excuse it. On the plus side, however, Lela Rochon is quite watcheable and the movie is simply great for the late-night party-with-friends type of watching. It’s bad… but in a way that won’t make you angry.

  • George Of The Jungle (1997)

    George Of The Jungle (1997)

    (On TV, September 1998) I don’t usually watch children movies, and that’s probably why I expected more from this Tarzan knock-off that I got. Granted, some of the comedy is clever (everything absurd and/or involving either the narrator or the native carriers was hilarious, for instance) but the remainder is just unbearably tedious. George Of The Jungle seems like the aftermath of a demented screenwriter’s half-hour of rewrite fun with a below-grade children film script. Too bad they didn’t let him play around with it longer.

  • The Scariest Place on Earth: Eye to Eye with Hurricanes, David E. Fisher

    Random House, 1994, 250 pages, C$32.00 hc, ISBN 0-679-42775-9

    In August 1998, CNN’s web site conducted an online poll about which natural disaster would be the worst to face personally. Upon viewing the results (topped by “Volcanic Eruption”), a co-worker commented that the danger of hurricanes is always severely underestimated.

    Which can be understood: From an uninformed point of view, hurricanes are just big storms. What’s a few more centimetres of rain and faster winds? Our buildings can tolerate big storms; what’s the deal with hurricanes? If anything, wouldn’t it be fun to go through a hurricanes, having a good party indoor while it’s raining outside?

    The difference is that hurricanes are not just “big storms.” 200 kph winds can drive a two by four plank straight into a tree trunk. The waves whipped up by hurricanes are called “storm surges”: They can rise over five meters and sweep coastal areas, destroying everything in their passages up to several kilometres inland.

    David E. Fisher explains all of this and much more in The Scariest Place on Earth. It’s not only a witty, readable account of the mechanism of a hurricane (a far more complex process than what could be expected) but also a collection of historical anecdotes about the terrifying power of hurricanes.

    Part of what gives The Scariest Place on Earth its power is the first-hand testimony of Fisher, who lived through Andrew, the 1992 hurricane that devastated a part of South Florida. Fisher lives in Miami; Andrew passed in his neighbourhood. Chapter by chapter, he describes the initial signals, the growing alarm, the hasty preparations, the unwavering disbelief, the terrifying power of the storm itself, and then the devastation afterward. It’s incredible storytelling.

    But Fisher is a scientist by formation, and The Scariest Place on Earth has for mission to be the ultimate layman book on hurricanes. For the most part, it succeeds. After a historical overview of our growing understanding of this natural phenomena, he spends a lot of time explaining how and why hurricanes form. It’s time well spent; despite the many interacting factors, you will understand hurricanes after this book. Fisher writes clearly, concisely and not without humour. The chapter explaining the origins of hurricanes (“Out of Nowhere”) is nothing short of a textbook example on how to write scientific non-fiction.

    Fisher also discusses the effort that have been made to control hurricanes, and the grim prospects of more powerful hurricanes caused by global warming. In the end, he does manages to convince the reader that truly, there is no scarier place on Earth than in the path of an oncoming hurricane.

    It almost seems ungrateful to criticise such a good account, but despite an excellent bibliography and complete notes on sources, The Scariest Place on Earth lacks an index. It’s a serious flaw, especially if you plan to use this book as a reference work.

    Despite this significant shortcoming, The Scariest Place on Earth is an effective, poignant popular science book. It’s fascinating, easy reading and has a place on the bookshelf of any serious nonfiction reader. As for me, I no longer confuse hurricanes with “big storms.”

  • Futuresport (1998)

    Futuresport (1998)

    (On TV, September 1998) Standard made-for-TV Science FIction, which is to say garbage! Really, this more-than-obvious futuristic sports drama is enjoyable as long as you don’t expect it to be any good. Unusually well-know performers: Vanessa Williams provides a reason for watching everything, Wesley Snipes had an interesting screen presence and Dean Cain is solid. The multiracial casting was great. Some special effects were nice. (For some reason, I also kind of liked the design of the head-mounted newscameras.) It gets awfully silly when they decided to rescue the love interest, though… Out-of-the-screenwriting-manual plotting, bad dialogue, half-baked concepts not fully explored (Pi ratings, anyone?)… what else did you expect?

  • The French Connection (1971)

    The French Connection (1971)

    (On TV, September 1998) Twenty-five years ago, The French Connection stood its ground as an intense action movie. Today, however, this tale of cops-against-drug-dealers seems tepid. The much-lauded car chase is interesting but not much more. The garage and subway sequences, however, are unexpectedly involving. I didn’t like the abrupt conclusion, which seemed to do its best to deny the audience a satisfying finale. With its bland villains, relatively low stakes, grim conclusion and ambiguous heroes, The French Connection seems more “realistic” than the average police drama but suffers a lot from historical perspective.

  • Executive Decision (1996)

    Executive Decision (1996)

    (Second viewing, On TV, September 1998) I first saw Executive Decision in theatres the first week of its release, and kept a fairly good impression of this tense techno-thriller. I was surprised to see, watching it again on the small screen, that it still held up pretty well upon a second viewing. The terrorist-take-over-plane plot is serviceable, but given a kick in the pants by the screenwriters’ originality. The craftsmanship of the tension is obvious; so is the director’s portrayal of the characters and the superb casting. (Never mind Kurt Russell’s charming everday man: This is Steven Seagal’s best movie, y’know?) The abrupt tone change of the last few minutes, which had annoyed me a lot the first time, didn’t seem to grating on second viewing. Not only one of my favourite movies of 1996, but one of the best thrillers ever made.

  • Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964)

    Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964)

    (On TV, September 1998) Unfortunately, due to the movie’s reputation, I already knew every frame of the film even before seeing it. A first belated viewing was curiously familiar and strange. Not a bad movie, but clunky at times–despite what film lovers say. Peter Sellers is pretty good, but the script seems half-poised between intense seriousness and wacky slapstick: Some say this is what makes this film great, but I just found it inconsistent. Still, a great movie-seeing experience, and the finale goes where few other movies have gone before (or since). Dark fun.

  • Dead Man On Campus (1998)

    Dead Man On Campus (1998)

    (In theaters, September 1998) Given that this campus comedy was trashed by the critics, I went in with low expectations, and consequently came out of it with a certain satisfaction. The premise is based on a popular urban legend: If your roommate commits suicide, certain colleges consider that your mental anguish will be unbearable, and consequently you’re allowed an automatic A+ for the session. Now, what if you’re smart, but failing in such a way that it’s mathematically impossible to make a passing grade? Dead Man On Campus takes the premise and jogs with it. The two protagonist are sympathetic, the antics are amusing and the conclusion brings a goofy, satisfied smile to everyone. What more can you ask? Just make sure you’re either in college, or recently graduated.

  • Flying to Valhalla, Charles Pellegrino

    Avonova, 1993, 337 pages, C$5.99 mmpb, ISBN 0-380-71881-2

    Charles Pellegrino has lived an interesting life. The full-page author blurb informs us that he’s been involved with astronomy, palaeontology, archaeology, the Titanic, the Valkyrie antimatter rocket, the concept of cloning dinosaurs from mosquitoes stuck in amber, composite materials, high-speed global maglevs and a few nuclear devices. Yikes.

    With Flying to Valhalla, he now turns his formidable imagination to hard Science-Fiction, complete with a forty-page scientific addendum.

    (It’s at this point that the liberal-arts crowd roll their eyes and quietly go away. I’ll be talking to those who will stay.)

    Yessir, Flying to Valhalla is pure, undiluted, ultra-hard Science Fiction. No substitutes, no wishy-washy fuzzy concept straight out of media SF, no fancy prose. No fancy characters, and no gripping plot either, but we’ll get to that.

    In the same vein than Robert L. Forward and John Cramer, Pellegrino is a working scientist with bursting ideas who finds in SF an ideal medium of expression. So who cares if his characters are cardboard and the plot’s free of any suspense? Pellegrino is constructing the basis of tomorrow’s SF: lesser authors will mine this book for years to come.

    What’s in Flying to Valhalla? A lot of stuff.

    The Chronology begins with “First Contact: 33,552,442 B.C.” and ends with “Effective end of Earth: A.D. 2076”. The book continues with Pellegrino, Powel and Asimov’s Three Laws of Alien Behaviour:

    1. Their survival will be more important that our survival,
    2. Wimps don’t become top dog and
    3. They will assume that the first two laws apply to us.

    No Star Trek goody-humanist doctrine, here. You already want to read the novel? Good, because this stuff is still all in the introduction.

    Before the novel’s over, you’ll read about antimatter rockets, space disasters, alien civilizations, theories of cosmogony, near-c insanity (or lucidity), relativistic bombs, galactic predators, electronic civilizations, sun-driven antimatter factories, lunar colonization and so much more!

    It’s redundant to say that Flying to Valhalla is a novel of ideas. It’s also redundant to say that hard-SF fans will devour it with glee while everyone else will look on in incomprehension. So let’s do the only decent thing and point out that if you’re looking for good hard-SF, Flying to Valhalla, and Pellegrino, are good buys.

    (The most fascinating thing about Flying to Valhalla is the concept of relativistic bombs. Accelerate relatively small objects to near-lightspeed velocities and let them smash in something -say, a planet- you want destroyed. There is almost no warning due to the near-c speed, and the impact is such that destruction is total. There is no real theoretical obstacle to this: just do the math. Now imagine that other civilisations in the galaxy that have the power required to send these relativistic bombs.

    This is where hard-SF shines: It anticipates a problem that has very real foundations years -possibly *centuries*- before everyone else. Flying to Valhalla also instill a deliciously real sense of paranoia: What if our TV signals are, at this very moment, reaching a civilization that doesn’t want any competitor…?

    Sweet dreams.)