Movie Review

  • Killer’s Kiss (1955)

    Killer’s Kiss (1955)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) If my notes are right, Killer’s Kiss is the second-to-last Stanley Kubrick film I’ve seen, the sole remainder being his first feature-length feature Fear and Desire, which Kubrick practically disavowed. Killer’s Kiss sticks close to popular entertainment in taking up film noir elements. It’s still very much the film of an apprentice working on a low budget — there are a number of disconnected sequences (one of them a ballet sequence featuring his wife), casual use of clichés, scattered plotting and dubious coincidences. But Kubrick was a stylist even at that stage of his career, and Killer’s Kiss fares much better when considered as a visual exercise. The threadbare plot is about an over-the-hill boxer who comes to court a dancer with a violent boyfriend — it all escalates into a familiar mixture of violence, chases and confrontations. It’s not that good a movie, but it’s certainly remarkable for its occasional cinematographic polish and vivid images. As a certified TCM fan, I was really amused to see that the film accounts for a bunch of segments in its “Open all Night” nighttime bumper — including the undressing woman who turns out to be Irene Kane (also known as Chris Chase) in one of her few screen roles. While there are better film noirs out there, Killer’s Kiss nonetheless remains easy viewing: it’s short, well-directed despite production limitations and it’s a Kubrick film no matter how rough it can be compared to his later movies.

  • Beyond the Rocks (1922)

    Beyond the Rocks (1922)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) As much as I try to be sympathetic toward silent drama movies, it doesn’t always work out — watching them is a reminder that the art of film advanced considerably with the advent of sound, and perhaps nowhere as much in the ability to present melodrama as something more subtle. Perhaps the best reason to watch Beyond the Rocks is because you’re curious about the legendary romantic icon Rudolph Valentino, or silent film star Gloria Swason — the film is a melodramatic romance featuring both of them, and it’s an illustration of what filmmakers considered irresistible at the time. Modern viewers will have trouble seeing past Valentino’s slicked-back hair or Swason’s bob — but that’s part of the point. What’s less easy to forgive is a script that delights in having the male lead rescue the female lead from a series of dumb dangerous outdoor sports accidents, and a final act that draws out something very obvious. On the flip side, the film clocks in at a refreshing 80 minutes, whereas silent movies often ran much higher in-between interminable title cards and slack editing. I still don’t quite like the result, but I feel better knowing that the film is no longer considered a lost film, as it was between the 1940s and its rediscovery in 2003. As such, the occasional moments when the image is completely garbled are a reminder of how that one singly copy is how close we were of losing Beyond the Rocks entirely.

  • Dream Wife (1953)

    Dream Wife (1953)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) One distinction about Dream Wife is that this was my first Cary Grant film after reading Scott Eyman’s great Cary Grant: A Brilliant Disguise, meaning that I now knew plenty about Grant’s life, insecurities, weaknesses and low points. Dream Wife doesn’t rank as one of his finest films, and I was curious to see if knowing too much about Grant beyond his screen persona would negatively impact my experience of the film. The answer, unsurprisingly, is… no. Grant’s megawatt charm is such that he’s mesmerizing on-screen, and the nature of his off-screen weaknesses isn’t the kind of material to make anyone look askew at what happens on-screen. This being said, well, Dream Wife isn’t one of his finest hours — coming at the end of a momentary career letdown (whose last phase would pick up anew in 1955 with his next film To Catch a Thief), it’s a slight romantic comedy that almost entirely depends on Grant anchoring the proceedings. The narrative has something to do with Grant as a businessman romancing a Middle Eastern princess (Betta St. John) despite still carrying a torch for the State Department employee (Deborah Kerr) chaperoning them in the hope of securing a lucrative oil agreement for the United States. But then again, it’s an excuse for Grant to unleash his usual mixture of charm, poise and utter ridiculousness as the situation spins out of control. He is admittedly very good at it — it’s in serviceable productions such as this one that you can recognize the worth of a great actor, and Grant often singlehandedly elevates scenes with impeccably timed mumbling and great staging. Otherwise, the film feels conventional, riffling through Grant’s assets without necessarily getting more than a moderately entertaining result out of them. Some of the most interesting things about Dream Wife aren’t even on-screen—From Grant’s biography, I already had the shock of realizing that writer-director Sydney Sheldon is the same Sydney Sheldon who later became a best-selling melodrama author. Still, I don’t want to be too harsh about it — Dream Wife is entertaining in exactly the way we expect from a Cary Grant vehicle.

  • One Way Passage (1932)

    One Way Passage (1932)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) I’m a twenty-first century modernist, so it’s strange to realize that in watching older movies, I sometimes feel a nostalgic pang for things that don’t really exist any more: twice-daily newspapers, overnight train travel, automats, Hollywood studios or cruise liners. It’s aboard such a transpacific cruise that most of Pre-Code romantic tragedy One Way Passage takes place, as a criminal on the run and a terminally ill woman meet, seduce each other but never ride off into the sunset as a couple. Deepest the “comedy” moniker and comic incidents throughout, it’s glum, wistful and somewhat grown-up compared to other Hollywood films made during the later Code period. It’s a good showcase for a young and more dramatic William Powell, as well as his frequent screen partner Kay Francis — this was their sixth and final pairing in three years! The subplots and episodic incidents don’t hold a candle to the doomed love story at the heart of the film, nor to the usual charm of Powell and Francis. This is certainly not the funniest Powell film ever made—him as a murderer on the run is not exactly what his persona became—but then again, if comedy is what draws people into One Way Passage, tragedy is what people remember about it.

  • The Mask of Dimitrios (1944)

    The Mask of Dimitrios (1944)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) An interesting blend of noir aesthetics, mystery and international geopolitics circa late-1930s, The Mask of Dimitrios features Peter Lorre as a novelist tracking down the life of a mysterious man of intrigue (the titular Dimitrios), through a cross-European journey that eventually gets him close to another mystery man (played by Sydney Greenstreet) with a grudge against the deceased. If the deceased is indeed deceased, which becomes increasingly unlikely as the narrative advances. Much of the action takes place in southeastern Europe, where the geopolitics of time are subordinated to the requirements of an exciting plot. At times, it does feel like a Casablanca spinoff — the Lorre/Greenstreet pairing is evocative enough, the Warner Brothers sensibilities are similar and using Europe as a playground for thrills is in the same neighbourhood, although it does lack a strong heroic protagonist and/or a romance to be anywhere near its more illustrious equivalent. Accordingly, expectations should be modulated in approaching The Mask of Dimitrios: it’s closer to an average film with its own distinctive atmosphere. There’s a curious non-emphasis on the rising Nazi threat, but the film is more concerned about its own thriller elements than making a stab as real-world relevance — and there’s probably an argument to be made that by 1944, no one needed another reminder about the Nazis. Reasonably entertaining and featuring a sufficiently different protagonist as played by Lorre, The Mask of Dimitrios makes for a decent watch as long as you don’t expect too much.

  • Yi yi (2000)

    Yi yi (2000)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) I am really not the best audience in the world for a middle-class domestic foreign melodrama that runs nearly three hours, But Yi Yi has convinced enough movie critics of its greatness that it features on the best-of lists that I’m using to guide my movie education, and that’s how I ended up sitting through it all (albeit in several sittings over several days). It does end up being quietly interesting in how it takes us into the life of a Taiwanese family experiencing several crises — the elderly grandma is paralyzed, the mother can’t deal with the stress and leaves for a Buddhist retreat; the father flirts with renewing a past relationship; the daughter has relationship issues; and the youngest son is experimenting with photography. If that feels like a lot, you have no idea of the wilder subplots at the edges of the narrative, perhaps best exemplified by a murder and the arrest of a supporting character; and the humiliation and suicide attempt of another. This being said, don’t expect much drama in this drama — not when it’s diluted in several hours’ worth of static footage, artistic intentions and unspectacular slice-of-life cinematography. Writer-director Edward Yang was going for something very specific in Yi Yi and probably achieved it, but it’s not a given that audiences will have the fortitude to sit through it all with undivided attention. I didn’t, and ended up doing so reluctantly. I probably would have enjoyed a radically cut-down version of the film, even acknowledging that this would probably destroy what makes this film so great to others. Despite the torpid pacing, there are things I did like — from a cinematographic perspective, there are some really interesting moments, including a dramatic scene that plays out as an audio drama over a static shot. Still, I’m not volunteering to watch Yi Yi ever again — I got the point a few minutes in, and the next three hours only repeated it.

  • There Is No I in Threesome (2021)

    There Is No I in Threesome (2021)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) The number of films that dramatically improve “if you keep watching” is far smaller than you’d think — it’s rare for a twist ending to elevate a film, it’s even rarer for films to shift tones successfully, and it’s even rarer for a documentary to feature a significant third-act swerve. But There Is No I in Threesome is an exception, even if it will test anyone’s patience along the way. At first, what we think we’re seeing is a salacious premise for a selfie-shot film: a young couple planning to wed but separated by distance, agreeing to an open relationship before the wedding clearly identified as the happy ending in their own documentary. Try not to gag at the opening minutes filled with happy-talk about open relationship that desperately sounds like people trying to convince themselves of something. He’s a filmmaker working in Wellington, NZ — she’s an actress working throughout Australasia. They’re both free spirits, and he (clearly the writer-director) can’t stop singing her praises. There are, they assure us, rules to their premarital experiment — except that they’re broken almost immediately. There are reasons for them sleeping with other people. There are procedures to ensure that this is all above-board and risk-free. Predictably, this all blows up. (It’s not that open relationships and/or polyamory can’t work for some people—I’m sure it does—but our two leads here are obviously ill-equipped to handle it.)  But just at the point where most viewers will be thinking variations on “well, what did you expect?” writer/director Jan Oliver Lucks pulls an F for Fake-sized rug from underneath the narrative. What we have been watching is based on true events—his own failed relationship—and the real intention was to shoot footage documenting the premarital openness, but a good chunk of the footage has been re-created with an actress rather than the ex-girlfriend. And, in a further twist, what we have been seeing (even as a dramatic reconstruction) is acknowledged as a very selective and subjective retelling of events from his perspective. It’s not quite a reversal good enough to make us like the result—it’s still annoying, still largely shot using a selfie stick, still overly provocative for its own sake—but it does become a bit more interesting than what it would have been at face value. There Is No I in Threesome is probably the single worst possible film to sing the virtues of non-traditional relationships — but it does become far more interesting as a re-creation that plays with our idea of what’s true, what’s not, and what’s in the middle as performative… especially when people are filming themselves in a bid for other peoples’ attention.

  • First Cow (2019)

    First Cow (2019)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) I thought that there may have been something interesting in First Cow, but I was wrong. While the film achieves its own objectives, those are so utterly alien to me that I was bored from beginning to end. Taking place in the American Northwest at a time when the arrival of a cow was a significant event, the story follows two men trying to eke out an existence — a Chinese immigrant and a white cook, both of them more or less on the run from bad people. Their big scheme, upon spotting the cow, is to secretly milk her and use the milk as basis for cookies — which works until the cow’s owner realizes what they’re doing. If you think that’s a comedy, think again — in practice, writer/director Kelly Reichardt is going for gritty tragedy (unexplainably shot in 3:4 aspect ratio, no less), and the low-budget filmmaking only leads to a downer ending. The path from beginning to end, however, feels far longer than its plodding 121 minutes — thanks to slow-paced directing and static cinematography, the film can’t even deliver its skimpy story in an effective manner. This, looking at Reichardt’s filmography, seems to be somewhat consistent for her — atmosphere over narrative and contemplation over storytelling. I suppose there’s an audience for that kind of film (most of the film’s positive reviews inevitably come with an appreciation of Reichardt’s filmography) but I’m not part of it. While I did like bits and pieces of the result (including a cameo from Alia Shawkat, a supporting turn from Toby Jones and a few moments between lead actors John Magaro and Orion Lee), the film as a whole left me cold and bored. Unlike First Cow itself, let’s not drag on this review any longer than necessary.

  • Same Kind of Different as Me (2017)

    Same Kind of Different as Me (2017)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) When it comes to films such as Same Kind of Different as Me, I’m not sure where the line is between a familiar collection of clichés and a heartfelt inspirational drama. I’m not inclined to be kind, though. Seemingly aimed at the white suburban set, it features an upper-middle-class couple (he’s an art dealer; she’s apparently a philanthropic gadfly) going through some marital troubles and trying to change things up by volunteering at a local homeless shelter. That’s when they meet a surly, violent black man who, in the end, will teach them valuable lessons about life, love and everything else. It’s far too easy to be cynical about movies in which a poor black person serves as a vehicle for the enlightenment of its white protagonists, but apparently that’s still acceptable — better yet, it’s apparently unassailable considering that it’s based on true events. Still, Hollywood takes control of the story here, and every moment seems maximized for maximum sentimentalism. The result is too manipulative to be any interesting, making the rather good cast (Greg Kinnear and a strange-faced Renée Zellweger as the white couple; a far better Djimon Hounsou as the homeless man) stick out. It’s an utterly familiar kind of Hollywood film — a film that you can leave playing while you leave the room for a few minutes, and come back knowing exactly what happened while you were away. The third act gets increasingly weepy for anyone except jaded movie reviewers. It’s all quite cloying and repetitive, especially in comparison to other similar movies. It’s cleanly directed by Michael Carney, at least, but you’d have to look for a while before finding any compelling reason to watch this particular take on a mildly obnoxious kind of story.

  • Millionaires in Prison (1940)

    Millionaires in Prison (1940)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) The only thing more remarkable than Millionaires in Prison’s blend of several elements (medical thriller, buddy con comedy, social critique, men in prison drama) is that it tries to do it all in barely more than an hour. As a result, expect quite a few herky-jerky swerves from beginning to end, as director Ray McCarey does his perfunctory best with a weird script and (produced in the factory setting of B-grade Hollywood) wasn’t particularly interested in being any good for posterity. It starts as five millionaires are convicted and end up in the same cell block, but the following minutes can go from comedy to romance, only to end up in inspiring medical drama by the end of the film. If the film contains social commentary, it’s implied at best — this isn’t meant to be profound stuff. A letdown considering the title, Millionaires in Prison does get a few laughs thanks to its actors more than its script—Lee Tracy in particular. Not recommended except maybe as a curiosity or an example of lower-grade filmmaking circa 1940s.

  • Ladies They Talk About (1933)

    Ladies They Talk About (1933)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) The history of women-in-prison films is much older than I thought, as demonstrated by Ladies They Talk About, an early-1930s film describing life in jail for a female bank robber. This being said, even this Pre-Code film is nowhere near the same leagues as the exploitation subgenre that began in the 1970s with The Big Doll House — it may be titillating at times (notably with girl-on-girl fighting and ladies wearing not much by Code standards) but nowhere near as exploitative as later takes on similar material. While audiences at the time may have been intrigued, modern viewers may find more to like in an early Barbara Stanwyck performance as the protagonist — she’s nowhere near as polished or unforgiving as in later performances, but she’s already showing the mixture of beauty, steel and versatility that would mark her as a leading actress across decades. This being said, the script itself can be really odd at times — strange twists and turns, including an impromptu musical number (starring a picture of Joe E. Brown!), an unusual lack of spatial unity for a prison film, and an ending in which the heroine shoots a guy but immediately regrets what she’s done (it qualifies as a flesh wound and a happy ending). Watch it for Stanwyck more than anything else — although it’s interesting to see the film’s messiness at times.

  • Basket Case (1982)

    Basket Case (1982)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, March 2021) As much as I dislike slasher movies with knife-wielding antagonists, it doesn’t take all that much improvement over the basic formula for me to give at least a nod of recognition at the ambition. Basket Case, for instance, is at its core a formula slasher — it does have a serial killer running around, it has victims falling dead every fifteen minutes or so, and it has the dark gritty aesthetics characteristic of the genre at the time. But it goes go farther and crazier — the prime example being what’s in the basket that the protagonist lugs around: his deformed conjoined twin, featuring delightfully twisted special effects once it starts killing people. That’s an unusual relationship all right, and it’s bolstered by an unusually strong sense of atmosphere as the characters lurk down the mean streets of early-1980s Manhattan. Basket Case is not, to be clear, a particularly good or likable horror film — it’s low-budget, gory and often unpleasant. But writer-director Frank Henenlotter does distinguish himself in a genre when it’s all too frequent for films to be both repellent and forgettable.

  • Vibes (1988)

    Vibes (1988)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) I’m not sure if the cast or the loopy premise is what makes Vibes worth a look despite not being that much of a good movie. It does start in a very weird, very dated way, as volunteers are matter-of-fact tested for psychic powers and the evidence is portrayed as incontrovertible. This, apparently, isn’t a big deal in the universe of the film, but rather a setup for a romantic comedy in which a psychometrist (a young and gangly Jeff Goldblum) meets cute with a trance-medium (Cindy Lauper!) that gets otherworldly information from an unheard spirit guide. Both of them are then hired under false pretence to find a treasure high up Ecuador’s mountains by a mysterious man (Peter Falk). It all leads to a mixture of romance and paranormal adventure, enlivened by a deliberately awkward performance from Goldblum and a bubbly take from Lauper. The casting surprises continue into the supporting role, what with Julian Sands popping up as an antagonist, an early turn by Elizabeth Peña in arresting lingerie, and Steve Buscemi in a brief role as a no-good boyfriend. Unfortunately, even the off-kilter opening and the intriguing cast can’t quite manage to make Vibes a success — at best, it’s an entirely forgettable film that struggles with the ideas and actors at its disposal. At worst, it feels like a cynical product, taking some woo-woo themes and awkwardly grafting it onto a formula blend of familiar genres and narratives. Still, the verdict is in, and the cast remains the best reason to seek out the film: Goldblum is definitely worth a look, and so is Lauper in one of her few acting roles.

  • Child’s Play 3 (1991)

    Child’s Play 3 (1991)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, March 2021) I thought I was done with the Child’s Play series, but checking my lists, it turns out that I hadn’t yet seen Child’s Play 3, one of the least memorable instalments of an already forgettable series. Taking place at a military academy (not an original setting after The Omen II), the film is more of the same for fans — there’s Chucky, revived arbitrarily, targeting protagonist Andy and slaughtering a number of other people along the way. The puppetry can be impressive at times, but the structure of the film is nothing beyond the usual string of death scenes one after the other. Arguably the scariest thing about the film is its depiction of an institution that aims to transform kids into stone-cold career killers, but let’s not expect this horror film to re-examine America’s fundamental militarism. Amusingly enough, the Wikipedia article about the film has an entire paragraph dedicated to its writer and director both dismissing the result — that probably tells you everything to know about it. I myself lived in peace for quite a white without having seen Child’s Play 3, and while the result is far from being a terrible horror film, there’s very little in there to justify seeing it. Unless you’re a fan of the series, in which go wild and have fun.

  • Oh, God! (1977)

    Oh, God! (1977)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) If you’re reading this review in the hope of learning a reason to see Oh, God!, it’s not that complicated: George Burns as God. That’s your reason. The story may be a circa-1977 take on how a divine message would be perceived by humanity, but the film’s big draw is Burns playing (a representation of) God, talking to a most unlikely messenger and trying to get him to spread his gospel. It’s sacrilegious and surprisingly faithful at once, tweaking traditional doctrine but reinforcing moral values at once, and reserving its biggest criticism for hypocritical televangelists. Director Carl Reiner does justice to a script that’s not specifically comic nor all that profound, remaining to the gentle amiability of the proceedings. John Denver is not bad in the lead role and Terry Garr is her usual self in a supporting role, but Burns steals the show — he’s the most remarkable character, gets all of the best lines (including some great ad-libs, we’re told) and plays the role with impeccable comic timing. I dimly remembered at least the concept for the film from childhood trips to the video store, but I’m not sure I saw more than the courtroom scene. In any case, the result is pleasant without being hilarious — but the result does feel smarter than the average Hollywood comedy, so there’s that. Plus Burns as God, obviously.