Movie Review

  • Kaijû sôshingeki [Destroy all Monsters] (1968)

    Kaijû sôshingeki [Destroy all Monsters] (1968)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2021) As someone who’s sympathetic to the Godzilla movies but hasn’t seen all that many of them, I’m half-entertained, half-puzzled by Destroy all Monsters. This late entry in the original Godzilla chronology does have the distinction of moving things along to a near-future of space travel, a “Monster Island” hosting the kaijus and bright colour cinematography. (I obviously missed a few films in-between the original Gojira and this.)  It all gets wilder once our human protagonists discover an alien plan to mind-control people and monsters alike to destroy the world or some such nonsense. The script is promising but ultimately unsatisfying, as good ideas are not executed particularly well, and as the pacing of the film varies considerably. Even the highlights, such as the film’s sole urban-stomping monster fight, are seemingly inserted without much impact on the plot. Much of the ending has various monsters curb-stomping an evil alien monster in a one-sided fight that would probably mean more if I knew more about that alien monster. (I also suspect that I would hate mini-Godzilla —sorry, “Minilla”—even more if I’d watched more of the series.)  Still, much of Destroy all Monsters is endearing to a surprising degree. Adding goofy eyes to Godzilla helps a lot, but even the now-obvious miniature work doesn’t fail to be impressive. The film has a charming quality to its goofiness, even (or especially) when all-female aliens looking like a K-pop band are trying to destroy earth. In the Godzilla chronology, this may represent the best of what the original series has to offer, and the monster team-up, colourful cinematography, quaint special effects and near-future imagination do a lot to make Destroy all Monsters still fun.

  • Where the Boys Are (1960)

    Where the Boys Are (1960)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2021) I’m uncomfortable calling Where the Boys Are a sex comedy, even though it’s most commonly described as such. For one thing, the moniker “sex comedy” as applied to 1960s films means something very different than when applied to its much coarser post-1975 equivalent: Even in movies squarely taking a look at the changing nature of sex in a liberating society, 1960s sex comedies were usually charmingly restrained by today’s standards. The second, most fundamental objection is that Where the Boys Are may start as a sex comedy with boys and girls heading to Fort Lauderdale in order to you-know-what, but the film steadily slides into a dramatic register, with a sobering ending that kicks the joy out of nearly all of the characters thanks to a rape sequence (largely off-screen, but still disturbing) that punctuates an increasingly disillusioned arc. If you think that circa-1960 films were innocent, you may be confusing the execution with the fundamentals: As our characters, both male and female, head to the beach, everyone is acutely aware that boys prey on girls and that nice girls must learn to say no — the girls who escape the worst have developed defences against common come-ons, honed by constant practice. If that’s not a damning, timeless lesson, I’m not sure what is. It does put Where the Boys Are in an uncomfortable spot, though: if you stopped watching at the three-quarter mark, you’d probably recall the film as an amiable, naughty, clever sex comedy examining the burgeoning spring break culture among college students heading south for a week of fun. There’s some truly funny material here, whether it’s physical comedy, girls accumulating more and more floor-sleepers in their hotel room every passing night, some satirical material about “dialectic jazz” and unusually kind police officers. The cast is also pretty good, what with a slim George Hamilton, lovely Paula Prentiss, cute Yvette Mimieux and funny Connie Francis, along with Dolores Hart playing band leader to this clever merry bunch. But then there’s the letdown of the film’s last few minutes that, ironically, saps the comedy but sharply increases the interest of the film for modern viewers—as a shining demonstration that people of the 1950s–1960s, despite the neutered contemporary depictions of their times, knew perfectly well what it was all about and what was going on. It feels like an inevitable tragedy that the films inspired by Where the Boys Are, most notably the Beach party series, were considerably lighter to the point of fluffiness — but they made money and offended no one.

  • Cheaper by the Dozen (1950)

    Cheaper by the Dozen (1950)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, February 2021) Considering that the Steve Martin remake version is far more familiar nowadays than the original, I went into the first Cheaper by the Dozen expecting a much sillier and funnier film than it is. Compared to the remake, the original takes on a substantially more serious tone, being framed around a grown woman’s memories of her father, an efficiency expert whose eccentricity dominated a household with a dozen children. There’s an added nostalgic quality to the film, as it takes place in the 1920s as filtered by the late 1940s, adapted from real people (four of them have their own Wikipedia pages!)  Much of the film’s humour comes from the atypical reactions of the efficiency-minded expert — but it’s fairly gentle humour. Director Walter Lang doesn’t go for big slapstick, and the film hums along pleasantly until the unexpectedly elegiac ending. The affectionate tone of a daughter reminiscing about her father makes the film different enough from its silly remake to be interesting, and the historical nature of the film’s episodes is also distinctive. It’s well worth a look even if you’re not a big fan of the remake.

  • The Food of the Gods (1976)

    The Food of the Gods (1976)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2021) The badness of some movies transcends space and time, and so The Food of the Gods can still, in 2021, be showcased along the worst of the worst, an infamous Golden Turkey that combines the downbeat apocalyptic leanings of 1970s Science Fiction films with the most ill-conceived special effects imaginable. The premise is as simple as it is moronic, as a mysterious substance causes animals to grow several times larger than usual. Our “hero” discovers the development on a farm on an isolated island where it’s being used to grow chicken to human dimensions… and where, yuck, grubs are big enough to put up a fight. The hysterically funny stuff begins once the rats also grow to gigantic size, and the “special effects” are shots of regular rats hanging around a miniature house. Awful doesn’t begin to describe it, so in-between the awful script trying for an ecological lesson and the terrible special effects, the film has at least two strikes against it. It’s all the most dismaying to see the legendary Ida Lupino as a supporting player in what would end up being the penultimate movie of her career. The drawn-out coda is meant to be terrifying but feels silly, which reinforces the impression left by the entire film. See The Food of the Gods only if you dare — it’s the kind of film that Mystery Science Theater 3000 was designed to mock.

  • Ce soir, je dors chez toi (2007)

    Ce soir, je dors chez toi (2007)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2021) When it comes to romantic comedies, two attractive leads can do a lot to compensate for script problems if they’re likable and interesting enough. But there are limits to what they can do, and when it comes to Ce soir, je dors chez toi, neither the likable Jean-Paul Rouve nor the very cute Mélanie Doutey can help salvage the film from banality. It does start promisingly, though, as a commitment-phobic writer fears his girlfriend moving in with him. Convinced that living together means the end of romance, he convinces his editor to move in on spurious pretences and block her from executing her plans. Predictably enough, the lies and misunderstandings only spin out from there, leading to a second half in which even viewers will grow unconvinced that they’re meant to be together. From a relatively solid opening, the film spins out of control. Some of it is intentional—Being French, Ce soir, je dors chez toi has little qualms about breaking staid Hollywood conventions—by mid-film, the characters have graphically described affairs with others, and the ending has the protagonist discovering his ex in a relationship with another man. But there’s a price to pay in playing with romantic comedy expectations, and that price here is a lack of trust in the suddenly happy finale. We somehow go from a protagonist being spurned by his ex-girlfriend to them getting back together — but since the film is largely from his perspective than hers, the change of heart remains ill-motivated. Various other tangents and subplots don’t necessarily add up to much (such as an abrupt trip to Manhattan, in the mirror image of New York City movies ending in Paris for a romantic climax), and the result is a bit of a mess, barely held together by Rouve’s jeune premier charm and Doutey’s attractive looks, even in a script determined to turn her into an antagonist. Too bad — and let that be a lesson to anyone deviating from the tried-and-true formula for romantic comedies.

  • Battle Beneath the Earth (1967)

    Battle Beneath the Earth (1967)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2021) I don’t think I’ll ever lose my sense of amazement at what can come up once you start poking through movie archives. Battle Beneath the Earth, produced in Great Britain by Irish director Montgomery Tully, is not a good movie—but it does have the kind of premise that sticks in mind: nothing less than the invasion of the United States by Chinese renegades through tunnels dug under the Pacific, and then in three tunnels spanning the United States. To say that it’s a crazy premise is understating things, but to its credit, the film does work overtime in trying to provide a halfway-plausible rationale. It also manages to tweak its premise in such as way that we get a warning from a scientist who’s not as crazy as everyone else thinks, early spectacular sequence and (thanks to a Hawaiian volcano and nuclear weapons) a way to end the threat in time for the end credit. No one will be surprised to realize that the film is incredibly racist in a variety of ways. Never mind the identity of the invaders when their leaders are played by actors in unconvincing makeup, and the film repeatedly lingers ominously on Asian extras. Paranoid doesn’t begin to describe the attitude of the film when it openly screams that invading hordes could literally spring from the ground. Battle Beneath the Earth is quite terrible and slightly enjoyable at once: the entire thing is just crazy enough to be interesting, and while it’s no surprise if the film has largely been forgotten today, it’s also a bit amusing to rediscover as a relic from an earlier time.

  • Test Pilot (1938)

    Test Pilot (1938)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2021) It’s interesting to note that movies predate aviation by only a few years — the medium was there to chronicle the way humans learned to fly, and even by 1938, aviation was barely in its third decade as more than a research endeavour. For some reason, I have an enduring fascination for aviation movies, especially the heroic age of aviation. That would be reason enough to watch Test Pilot, which is still widely hailed for its mostly realistic treatment of its subject. But then there’s the classic Hollywood touch: The film features no less than Clark Gable, Myrna Loy and Spencer Tracy, in addition to being built as a classic melodramatic blockbuster according to the timeless standards of the genre. (Fittingly, it was nominated for a Best Picture Academy Award.)  The result is not exactly the most unpredictable of movies: As our cocky protagonist (Gable) keeps getting into self-inflicted trouble, barely held back by the intervention of his level-headed friend (Tracy) and the love of a good woman (Loy), it’s not astonishing when he ends the picture a changed, more responsible man. Test Pilot may have been directed by Victor Fleming, but the script is recognizably from Howard Hawks. In between, well, we get a good look at the state of late-1930s American aviation, with bullet-shaped barnstormers and a peek at the B-17 bomber about to get good use during WW2. The special effects still come across as credible. The result is about as old-school Hollywood as can be imagined, but not in a bad way: high technology, melodrama, manly men, and a sex symbol… who could ask for more?

  • La mala educación [Bad Education] (2004)

    La mala educación [Bad Education] (2004)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, February 2021) While I wouldn’t call myself a fan of writer-director Pedro Almodóvar’s work, I rarely miss a chance to see movies of his — he can usually be relied upon to show us something new, interesting and provocative every time. There are few boring Almodovar films, and Bad Education is not of them. The story of a director reuniting with a past flame soon turns to cross-dressing, impersonation, murder and melodramatic confessions. There’s seldom a dull moment along the way, and Almodovar keeps us on our toes with a non-chronologic structure that may simply be excerpts of the film being made along the way (echoing his later Pain and Glory). The film relies on the performances of Gael García Bernal and Fele Martinez and both actors prove up to the challenge. The cinematography is very colourful and, as usual, the film mercifully does not stick to a formulaic narrative. Bad Education may feel a lot like other Almodóvar movies, but like all of them, it’s also a voyage of discovery in what he can do with a film.

  • The Chase (1966)

    The Chase (1966)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2021) As much as I like to point at 1967 as the year during which Hollywood changed, there were plenty of warning shots prior to Bonnie and Clyde and The Graduate — the 1960s are filled with movies pushing the envelope of what was previously allowable by the Production Code, and exploring gritty filmmaking before New Hollywood ran with it. The Chase strikes me as one of those forebears: a low-energy drama with a downbeat conclusion, featuring grimy naturalistic cinematography and several stars that we would later associate with the 1970s. The core of the film looks a lot like a crime thriller, what with a convict escaping prison and his hometown steeling itself for his return. But as the dramatic non-criminal subplots accumulate, it becomes more obvious that the film is more interested in the hidden depravity of its characters, the small town’s accumulated secrets, and a refusal to bow to conventional values in wrapping up the film. The ensemble cast is stellar, in-between Marlon Brando, Robert Redford, Jane Fonda, Angie Dickinson and a small early role for Robert Duvall. But the result is not quite up to its own goals. Never mind the dark-and-depressive anticipation of the soul-killing 1970s: The Chase delights in upending audience expectations and settling for a nihilistic conclusion. No one is a hero, everyone is terrible and we viewers are stuck with the results. Neither seeking satisfaction as a crime story nor able to deliver enlightenment as a small-town drama, The Chase seems stuck in-between what it would take to be effective one way or the other. We can either see it as a disappointment, or as a stepping stone to the better movies that would follow.

  • A Woman’s Face (1941)

    A Woman’s Face (1941)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2021) It’s easy to see in bits and pieces what makes A Woman’s Face a bit better than most melodramas of the time. Despite a fundamentally unlikely premise blending organized crime, blackmail, disfigurement, child murder and a framing device set in a courtroom, the film gets quite a bit of mileage from Joan Crawford’s convincing performance in facial scarring makeup. The film wrings extra tension from the back-and-forth between the events of the story and the courtroom framing device, while George Cukor keeps things grounded despite the unlikely narrative and the Swedish setting. (But then again, the film is a remake of a Swedish original starring Ingrid Bergman.)  While I’m not much of a Crawford fan, she’s quite good here and A Woman’s Face remains an above-average 1940s melodrama.

  • Trapeze (1956)

    Trapeze (1956)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2021) There are a few good reasons to have a look at Trapeze, but almost all of them start with the casting: Burt Lancaster as a crippled trapeze artist, Tony Curtis as an up-and-comer seeking guidance, and the deliciously-named Lola Lollobrigida as (obviously) the woman that comes between them. Probably the next-best reason is the trapeze footage, still impressive today due to the impressive physicality of the performers (some of it without stunt doubles), and the apparent danger of some of the acts. Considering that the story is about the pursuit of the elusive and dangerous triple somersault, visual danger appropriately reflects the stakes at play here. Otherwise, much of Trapeze runs along familiar tracks once you exclude the (rather impressive) Parisian circus aspect of the story: a veteran, an up-and-comer and the love triangle that takes place once a woman comes along. Director Carol Reed does his best in the circus ring, with the rest of the film being along more familiar lines. Still, the Lancaster/Curtis pairing is interesting as a preview to their far better-known Sweet Smell of Success, and Lancaster notches another film in a more interesting filmography than you’d expect from a multi-decade leading man.

  • Racetime aka La Course des Tuques (2018)

    Racetime aka La Course des Tuques (2018)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In English, On Cable TV, February 2021) Interestingly enough, you can make a case that sequel Racetime is in a better position to impress than its predecessor Snowtime. The earlier film, after all, was an animated remake of an all-time classic of French-Canadian family cinema — expectations about it ran high and were not necessarily fulfilled. Racetime, by striking out on its own with its renewed approach and cast of characters, is a bit freer to make its own mark as something more than a remake. While the result is not all that great, it’s not bad. Taking the fantastic engineering conceit of the series farther and farther, the film boils down to the mechanical achievements that a group of kids must accomplish in order to win a race that will determine the fate of the building they’ve rebuilt to their wishes. Good nerd vs. bad nerd is a big conflict this time around, and the film lets loose during the climactic race sequence that it builds to during the entire running time of the film. Aesthetically, it’s very much of a piece with its predecessor, which will make some viewers happy and others not so much. The morals are obvious, the pacing is a bit slack and the character work is generally unsurprising. I liked the result without being overwhelmed by it: as far as family films go, Racetime is adequate without being particularly good. But at least it’s not hampered by comparisons to a 1980s original.

  • Clash by Night (1952)

    Clash by Night (1952)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2021) On paper, Clash by Night feels like a must-see film: An intense small-town drama directed by Fritz Lang, featuring a late-career performance from Barbara Stanwyck and one of the first featured turns from Marilyn Monroe? Who can resist that? Alas, the film itself is not quite as gripping. While the drama’s bubbling into melodrama can be momentarily intense, the film feels poorly paced, with numerous lulls, overdone moments and an unsatisfying conclusion. The relatively small stakes (in a small coastal town setting) don’t add much more, and you can almost feel Lang itching to take the film firmly into noir crime thriller territory, while being held back by the material stemming from a realistic Broadway play. In other words, Clash by Night feels far from being even the sum of its parts — not a particular highlight for its time, and a minor entry in everyone’s filmography.

    (Second viewing, On Cable TV, August 2021) It’s not so easy to assess films that competently do something that you just happen to not like very much. So it is that Clash by Night does have a clear intention in mind, as it follows a woman coming back to a small town after years living in the big city. The film is clearly split in two acts, and the melodrama inherent in the premise means that no one will be all that happy with the ending. It’s a story about picking between a dangerous but exciting man and a safe but dull one, set against a small fishing community. As the lead, Barbara Stanwyck here clearly demonstrates why she’s widely considered one of the best actresses of Classical Hollywood, and then there’s a younger Marilyn Monroe doing well in a supporting role. Robert Ryan and Paul Douglas play the poles of masculinity that the lead gravitates to. The small-town atmosphere is effective and clearly weaved into the plotting. Fritz Lang’s direction is straightforward, and perhaps less beholden to the film noir style he was using in other movies at the time. That drama is strong (fittingly for a film adapted from a play) even if it frequently dips into what twenty-first century viewers will see as melodrama with a woman making poor choices and creating all sorts of problems for herself. Of course, that’s the point of the film: the lack of temporal unity is deliberate, as are the theatrical anguish, overdone antagonist and manipulative elements of the conclusion. All of which may explain why I end up appreciative but generally cool to the results – Clash by Night is a fine melodrama with good performances, but I’m having a hard time mustering any enthusiasm about it.

  • Bright Lights (1935)

    Bright Lights (1935)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2021) I find it comforting that even a few years in my exploration of Hollywood history, I still find out unusually gifted actors worth a look. The big revelation of Bright Lights is Joe E. Brown, a vaudeville comedian who reached the peak of his movie stardom in the mid-1930s. This comedy makes great use of his comedic talents, showcasing him as a small-circuit vaudevillian lured to the big city. His showcase act is a drunken heckler routine alongside his wife and stage partner. Their loving relationship is threatened when he (but not she) is brought to the big city stages and a rich heiress enters the picture. There’s an element of showbiz comedy here, but Wilson’s distinctive style (with his impossibly wide mouth) is better suited to more ridiculous moments, including a chase after a hastily mailed letter that goes from Manhattan to Milwaukee. The heckling routine is repeated three times: once as a small-town showcase, another as a Manhattan sensation and finally as a heartfelt reconciliation. Still, the best reason to watch Bright Lights is not just the very funny material, but Brown himself as a prototypical vaudevillian, instantly distinctive and funny. I’m glad I had a look, if only because Brown has entered my list of actors I should be paying attention to. (Fittingly, nearly everyone remembers one of his last performances, considering that he delivers the punchline of Some Like it Hot: “Well, nobody’s perfect.”)

  • Show Boat (1951)

    Show Boat (1951)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2021) It’s not unfair to criticize a film for shortcomings external to the film itself. If you accept that a good chunk of criticism is assessing if a film meets its own objectives, it becomes fair game to explore the production history for the film to explain on-screen issues — and assess whether the filmmakers were on an impossible mission. On a surface level, Show Boat feels a lot like the pinnacle of the MGM musical circa 1950. The original Broadway show is reportedly a landmark in American musical history, being the first to combine serious dramatic themes in a musical form until then used for more comic pursuits. The big-budget production re-creates the Mississippi on the MGM backlot, along with a show boat that has little basis in reality. The visual sheen of the production is immensely colourful, with dozens of extras milling through the musical sequences as the film re-creates the lifestyle of a travelling troupe of actors making their way up and down the river. So far so good — I really enjoyed Show Boat when it focused on those elements, and would have given high marks to the film had it stuck to that. But there’s a lot more on Show Boat’s mind than what I’ve described so far — in addition to doomed romance between mismatched partners, it makes quite a bit of a subplot featuring a half-black character passing as white, and the impossibility of any interracial relationship at the time the film is set. Unfortunately, Show Boat self-destructs on that subplot: The half-black character is played by the very white (and not-a-singer) Ava Gardner, and a peek at the production history of the film reveals that no less than the divine Lena Horne was considered then rejected for the role, reportedly because her very blackness went against the Hays Code’s ban on interracial relationship on-screen. This is infuriating enough, but it’s even worse considering that the re-creation of the musical in Till the Clouds Roll By did include Lena Horne in that role. It doesn’t help that much of Show Boat, as presented here, is a bit dull — the comedy of the film quickly disappears, and the more dramatic material seems kneecapped by the film’s own production constraints. The only sequence that I completely enjoyed is the acknowledged highlight of the film — William Warfield’s fantastic take on “Ol’ Man River” — an anthology piece if the film has one. I find it telling that while Show Boat was meant to be MGM’s big musical of 1951 and was initially a solid box-office success, contemporary audiences only have eyes for that other mildly successful MGM musical of 1951: Singin’ in the Rain.