Author: Christian Sauvé

  • Endings, Beginnings (2019)

    Endings, Beginnings (2019)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2020) The key to executing a low-stake non-genre slice-of-life drama featuring ordinary people is that, well, it works best if you like those people. Or make them interesting. Or have them played by charismatic actors. Alas, Endings, Beginning is pretty much zero out of three. The beginning is particularly trying, as we’re introduced to an average loser who’s pretty much managed to screw everything in her life, and then ask us to care for her as she navigates a love triangle with opposite partners. She then finds new and painfully irritating ways to screw things up even further as the film goes on and on. Naturalistic cinematography further irritates—at some point, as dumb as it sounds, I was even exasperated by the film using the default iPhone notification sounds, as I kept reaching to see if it was my phone. Shailene Woodley makes an effort here to further distinguish herself from her best-known YA roles, but this persona may not be an improvement. Far too long for its own good, Endings, Beginnings does get slightly more interesting toward the end as the stakes get higher—but again, they’re high because the protagonist has systematically gotten in bigger trouble along the way, never taking any action to actually behave responsibly. As I said, an unlikable character makes for an unlikable film.

  • Jojo Rabbit (2019)

    Jojo Rabbit (2019)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2020) The premise of Jojo Rabbit is strikingly unappealing (a young German boy, in WW2 Germany, has Hitler as an imaginary friend and befriends a Jewish girl hidden in his attic, as the Nazis close in a start purging non-patriotic Germans) but if there’s any filmmaker who could make it work, that would be Taika Waititi, whose off-beat sense of humour has led to a string of films far better than their premise would suggest. So it is that from its first moments, Jojo Rabbit plays on a knife’s edge of discomfort, applying an ironic comedy filter on events that, in other hands, would have been yet another tragic-but-dull WW2 drama. This is really and constantly not a film to be watched at a surface level, as it plays for laughs while camouflaging some terrible things. Yet it still manages to earn its dramatic moments later on. There’s an interesting mastery of craft here, as Waititi hits his off-beat beats along the way. I don’t exactly love the results, but I’m impressed enough with them.

  • Bande à part [Band of Outsiders] (1964)

    Bande à part [Band of Outsiders] (1964)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Youtube Streaming, August 2020) When I think French Nouvelle Vague, I picture a vague mix of black-and-white cinematography, characters in a romantic triangle, the streets of Paris, references to Hollywood, and seemingly improvised philosophical discussions sometimes interrupted by the elements of a criminal subplot. In other words, I’m just about ready to designate Bande à part as the most new-wavish of the French New Wave movies. In writer-director Jean-Luc Godard’s hands, it features one woman and two men plotting a robbery in-between dancing at Parisian cafés, running through the Louvre and discussing Hollywood. It may feature budding criminals, but Bande à part qualifies as a genre-heavy crime film only by the loosest of definitions—it’s far more interested in the relationships and rambling discussions between the trio than the crime they’re planning to commit. As befit such an archetypical film, it has spawned numerous imitators from Tarantino (who practically worships the film and features a striking homage to its dance sequence in Pulp Fiction) to Bertolucci’s The Dreamers. For a cinephile, it’s interesting to see an influential film after its imitators and feel the mental click of puzzle pieces fitting together—it does help that Bande à part fully plays into nearly all of the clichés of its specific era of filmmaking: it’s an archetypical film, and perhaps best of all it’s curiously enjoyable as such—but then again most of Godard’s early movies are a charm to listen to once the characters get talking about such any subject. In the end, I’m not that overly enthusiastic about Bande à part… but I can see what the fuss is about.

  • The Peanut Butter Falcon (2019)

    The Peanut Butter Falcon (2019)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2020) On paper, there is nothing about The Peanut Butter Falcon that would make me like the film. It’s about a protagonist with Down’s syndrome who escapes from a Southern US placement home in order to go to a wrestling training school. Barely functional in society, he meets a small-time crook on the run, and they soon start to rely on each other, as both social workers and vengeful hoodlums are looking for them. Add to that the naturalistic gritty filmmaking style and it not only sounds like anything I’d enjoy, but it should be fit to send me running for the exits. And yet, even from its first few uncomfortable scenes, The Peanut Butter Falcon does manage to be more interesting than expected. There’s a genuine rawness to Zack Gottsagen’s performance, and a solid leading role for Shia Leboeuf, as well as a good supporting turn for Thomas Haden Church. The sense of place of the Southern US is astonishing, and the story does often allude to Huckleberry Finn in its travels down the river. The film does earn its emotional beats later in the third act, and the result is surprisingly likable, especially as it reinforces its themes of reconstituted family. I’m often more impressed by directors that can make watchable material from unappealing premises than those who do well with surefire starting points, and on that metric, writers-directors Tyler Nilson and Michael Schwartz have done quite well here.

  • Non c’è due senza quattro [Double Trouble] (1984)

    Non c’è due senza quattro [Double Trouble] (1984)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, July 2020) By 1984, the long on-screen partnership between Bud Spencer and Terence Hill was almost over, but both of them were comfortable enough in their on-screen personas that their movies became little more than excuses for comic set-pieces. In Double Trouble’s case, the narrative goes back to the favourite comic trope of doubles—Spencer/Hill playing both rich wimpy characters, and rough-and-tumble doubles hired as decoys due to assassination attempts. It all takes place in Rio de Janeiro for international flavour. The excuse for a plot is enough for the string of gags—both actors are clearly having fun with the highfalutin dialogue and demeanour of the rich guys they’re supposed to replace, and a lot of the film’s comedy has to do with class differences. It’s certainly nothing sophisticated, but the brawls are fun, and fans of the duo get exactly what they’re expecting. While Double Trouble is not their best (although, really, what is their best?), it’s amusing enough to be worth their names on the marquee.

  • Django (1966)

    Django (1966)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Tubitv Streaming, July 2020) What’s in the coffin? What’s in the coffin??? From its first few moments, as a lone traveller carries a heavy coffin wherever he goes, Django strikes interest. A Spaghetti western written and directed by Sergio Corbucci and starring Franco Nero, this is a film more concerned about artifice than substance. The story itself (inspired by Yojimbo) is nothing special—a stranger comes to town and dispatches the bad guys—but it’s in the details that the film does better: the hero’s weapon of choice is what’s in the coffin—a machine gun! The bad dubbing does add a bit of charm to the proceedings. Alas, the film is unusually violent for the time, to the point where it’s not as much fun to watch. Still, if you’ve seen and like Leone’s westerns, this is very much in the same vein. Many enthusiasts will tell you that Django is one of the better spaghetti westerns and the good directing, steady rhythm, entertaining gimmicks, likable protagonist and rather happy ending all confirm this.

  • The Barkleys of Broadway (1949)

    The Barkleys of Broadway (1949)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, July 2020) Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers are reunited for the tenth and final time in The Barkleys of Broadway, playing a married Broadway couple whose bickering gets out of hand, leading to strife and separation. The film’s production history tells us that Judy Garland was first slated to play the female lead but had to bow out and was replaced by Rogers, thus providing an interesting ten-year-later epilogue to the Astaire/Rogers professional duo. In most ways, it’s a classic MGM Freed production from the good years of the unit—where the focus on Broadway presenters means that there are plenty of diegetic occasions to present song and dance numbers. We shouldn’t underestimate the fun of seeing Oscar Levant in a role tailored to fit both his musical talents (as he plays a Tarkovsky piano concerto on-screen, hands flying on the keys) and his comic persona with a penchant for acerbic bon mots. Special effects make the “Shows with Wings on” sequence worth a look, as one of Astaire’s later-career solo numbers with a gimmick. Fittingly enough for an Astaire/Rogers finale, there is some great duet dancing here. Alas, as with many musicals, the balance of comedy to drama is not ideal in the third act—it’s not as if the resolution is in doubt. Even as a rather average Astaire/Rogers film, The Barkleys of Broadway is a lot of fun to watch for musical comedy fans. It also heralds, in its own way, a few spectacular years for MGM musical comedies.

  • Ivanovo detstvo [Ivan’s Childhood aka My Name is Ivan] (1962)

    Ivanovo detstvo [Ivan’s Childhood aka My Name is Ivan] (1962)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Criterion Streaming, July 2020) Let’s describe Ivan’s Childhood for you: It’s director Andrei Tarkovsky’s debut feature, in black-and-white, in Russian, about a child during wartime but intercut with bucolic recollections of an idyllic rural pre-war upbringing. This combination of elements is almost custom designed to get me to tap out of a film, and the result does not disappoint: it’s intensely dull in addition to the excruciating subject matter, and it does nothing to change my opinion of Tarkovsky—in fact, Ivan’s Childhood is one of his dullest films that I can recall, and that’s already saying something.

  • Rookie of the Year (1993)

    Rookie of the Year (1993)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, July 2020) Wish fulfillment runs rampant in baseball fantasy Rookie of the Year, in which a twelve-year-old with a fantastic medical condition giving him an exceptional throwing speed is called to pitch for a professional sports team. It’s obviously a comedy for kids and it makes no effort to present something palatable for adults—it’s all clichés and dumb gags and formula plotting and so on. Daniel Stern directs about as broadly as he plays a comic relief role. Rookie of the Year is passably entertaining, but not by much—I suppose that it’s somewhat better if you’re a baseball-loving tweener.

  • Three Little Words (1950)

    Three Little Words (1950)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, July 2020) The mini wave of composer biopics meets Fred Astaire in Three Little Words, which goes back to the Tinpan Alley era to present a biography of songwriting team Kalmar and Ruby. Astaire (as Kalmar) stars with Red Skelton (as Ruby) and the always-beautiful Vera-Ellen as Kalmar’s wife in what’s probably one of the healthiest on-screen romantic relationships in Astaire’s filmography. (There’s no creeping insistence in this specific romance, although the 22-year age gap remains significant.) Also notable is that Astaire does a lot more singing than dancing here—this is a biopic that’s not quite built to accommodate his usual dance performances. There’s some built-in drama (which wasn’t always the case in other composer biographies), as the two partners argue. While Three Little Words is adapted from real historical figures (ones that Astaire even knew personally), it’s difficult to see anyone but Astaire and Skelton rather than their characters. But that’s fine—both actors have a much better chemistry than you could expect from their specific comic styles, and it helps that Skelton keeps his wilder comic instincts under control here. As composer biopics go, historians tell us that Three Little Words is considered one of the most accurate depictions of their subject—although with plenty of Hollywood enhancements. But while not a bad jukebox musical in itself, it’s a bit of a disappointing entry in the Astaire filmography: it’s an early example of him trying to stretch beyond his dancing abilities (something that would become more frequent as he aged) and there’s nothing wrong with that, but it means that Three Little Words should be assessed more along the lines of a composer biopic (where it is, in fact, funnier and more charming than most) than an Astair musical (which it is not).

  • Batman: The Movie (1966)

    Batman: The Movie (1966)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Second Viewing, July 2020) I recall seeing both Batman: The Movie and the TV series as a kid, and while I haven’t seen the TV series since roughly that time, it’s easy to go right back in the consciously campy tone of the film. The film’s bigger budget, compared to the TV series, means a few expansive exterior shots and slightly better production values. But the core remains the silliness—it’s ridiculous, intentionally ridiculous, consciously ridiculous and everyone is out to make it as ridiculous as possible. The plot is clearly not supposed to make sense: Highlights include the shark and the bomb, of course, which I remembered from decades ago. But what I did not remember were the dehydration or the heavy water or the deadpan delivery of inane dialogue that made it all better. The film also features a good opportunity to see some of the classic villains (Cesar Romeo’s Joker, notably—too bad it’s not the Eartha Kitt Catwoman) in high-definition widescreen alongside Adam West and Burt Ward. All in all, Batman: The Movie is an exemplary camp classic: inane in all the right ways.

  • Dead End (1937)

    Dead End (1937)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, July 2020) As much as I’d like to be more positive about Dead End, it just ends up being a fairly dull New York crime drama. It does star an ascendant Humphrey Bogart in one of the 1930s roles most suited to his later persona (albeit as a villain), plus a leading role for Joel McCrae. The plot is perhaps a bit more sedate than you could expect: it’s based on a theatrical play, spends a lot of time on social issues class commentary on gentrification and doesn’t quite capitalize on its assets—or maybe just isn’t interested in telling anything but a drama opposing high class characters and low street urchins. Director William Wyler does have a few impressive camera moves, especially in the film’s opening moments. Alas, that’s not enough to make Dead End any more distinctive—the plot is uninvolving, and even Bogart’s supporting turn can’t save it completely.

  • Paris When It Sizzles (1964)

    Paris When It Sizzles (1964)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, July 2020) It would have been enough to put together a romantic comedy starring Audrey Hepburn and William Holden, set in Paris, and have him play a burnt-out writer on a deadline being helped by a winsome assistant. It’s not an original premise, yet it’s more than enough to be fun. But Paris When It Sizzles goes quite a bit further into charming ridiculousness, by presenting the result of their collaboration (a thriller called The Girl Who Stole the Eiffel Tower) on-screen with them playing the main characters, and throwing in not just plenty of Hollywood in-jokes, but cameos from notables such as Tony Curtis, Mel Ferrer, Marlene Dietrich and Frank Sinatra. The romantic narrative is predictable (would you believe the writer falls in love with his assistant?) but it’s the very funny metafictional game that holds audience interest as the reality of Paris When It Sizzles keeps going back and forth between the writers’ struggles and the imagined movie. Hepburn is in her element in a romantic comedy—and once again back in Paris. Fans will note one scene in which she has her long hair down—wow. Meanwhile, Holden is quite good as well—he looks like Tom Hanks at times, and like an authentic action hero at others. While many of the references can only be appreciated by Classic Hollywood fans, Paris When it Sizzles has aged well with its metafictional conceit and main stars. It’s a lot of fun even if the ending doesn’t provide complete closure. (Am I the only one who likes it when protagonists meet their deadlines?) But then again, that may be the point—the film is intent on making audiences happy even when it doesn’t make sense. As a romantic comedy set in Paris, how could it be otherwise?

  • Kurenai no buta [Porco Rosso aka The Crimson Pig] (1992)

    Kurenai no buta [Porco Rosso aka The Crimson Pig] (1992)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Netflix Streaming, July 2020) Only writer-director Hayao Miyazaki could get away with the strange blend of elements to be found in Porco Rosso. After all, you wouldn’t necessarily expect animation to take on mid-1920s Italy as a setting, nor to complicate things even further by featuring seaplanes, air pirates, the lingering weight of war a few years after an armistice, a character aspiring to Hollywood stardom, a rich heiress, and a hero magically transformed from pilot to anthropomorphic pig. It’s a lot to take in, but much of the first half of the film is delightful considering how it just keeps throwing elements of its bizarre imagined universe at the viewer. There’s a lot of romance here for early aviation, an affection for its Italian characters, twisted loyalties (as the protagonist is pursued both by pirates and the US government), a loyal female sidekick and a host of other characters. It’s difficult to describe and it sounds utterly ridiculous on paper, but it works well once the film gets going. It all comes down to an aerial race, and then a bloody fist-fight in thigh-deep water. There is considerable and unlikely charm to Porco Rosso, far more so than the sum of its components. But that’s part of the Miyazaki magic, creating entirely fresh universes at each film in order to tell us a story that escapes neat patterns and genre distinctions. Liking it takes a backseat to being very impressed by it.

  • Le cercle rouge [The Red Circle] (1970)

    Le cercle rouge [The Red Circle] (1970)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (YouTube Streaming, July 2020) Oops. Oh, I can recognize that Le Cercle Rouge is a good movie. Directed with clinical precision by Jean-Pierre Melville, it’s about a robbery put together by a group of men, one of them played with typical cool by Alain Delon. It’s about a criminal on the run, pursued by a dogged police officer. It’s about the mixture of existential musings and criminal genre plotting so typical of Melville. It’s about 1970 Paris, all leading to a very long robbery sequence executed without dialogue or music. The ending is suitably punishing for the criminals. But here’s the unfortunate thing: I have been seeing a lot of black-and-white heist movies lately, many of them with groups of criminals coming together for an extended robbery sequence shot without music or dialogue, and not only are they blurring together, they’re making it harder to keep my interest while watching Le cercle rouge. Haven’t I seen this before? Don’t I have a really good idea of what’s going to happen? Unfortunate, but perhaps inevitable given that other of those other films was the very similar Rififi, which obviously influenced this one. I’ll give Le cercle rouge a cautious recommendation (albeit tempered by my impatience with Melville’s usual languid pacing and existential excesses), and give it a while before I try watching it again.