Movie Review

  • Howard the Duck (1986)

    Howard the Duck (1986)

    (Second Viewing, On TV, June 2020) Moviegoers are a forgiving and indulgent lot, but some movies, like Howard the Duck, simply ask for too much. Starting from a juvenile and irritating script with few surprises, it simply adds to its troubles by asking us to believe in a duck protagonist badly executed through dwarf actors and a grotesque costume. Ugh. A modern CGI-heavy remake may do slightly better… but not that much better, given the film’s heavy-handed approach to its humour (every joke underlined twice), confused tone (raunchy humour in a kid’s movie) and blunt-force plotting. But here’s the question: despite all of this, does it have charm? Well, maybe. Lea Thompson looks terrific in mid-1986 fashion and Tim Robbins turns in a remarkably embarrassing performance. There are a few amusing moments and the film does have a “have you seen this?” quality that’s hard to dismiss. Still, while not atrocious, Howard the Duck remains deeply misguided—even being indulgent (which is not the same thing as being ironic), it’s still asking for a lot.

  • Tab Hunter Confidential (2015)

    Tab Hunter Confidential (2015)

    (On Cable TV, June 2020) Even if you don’t know about Tab Hunter, you can still approach his engaging biography Tab Hunter Confidential with the assurance that you will learn plenty about this 1950s heartthrob whose career waned in the 1970s to the point where he was doing dinner theatre. Fear not: he bounced back in later years thanks to the success of the John Waters film Polyester. But Hunter wasn’t like most other 1950s icons—gay at a time when such things were strictly unacceptable in Hollywood, this difference ends up becoming the structural backbone of the film, as evolving social acceptance ends up reshaping his life and career. Hunter himself makes for a very likable subject, and the arc of his career from the 1940s to the 1980s is an interesting illustration of how things can go wrong for many actors even after hitting the limelight. Well-presented with some ironic footage (“I’m Tab Hunter, and I have a secret”), it sprouts interviews with notables such as George Takei, John Waters and Clint Eastwood, and digitally enhanced archival photos. Executed with more grace and substance than many other celebrity biographies, Tab Hunter Confidential offers a new light on Classic Hollywood, and makes for entertaining viewing as well.

  • Earth vs. the Flying Saucers (1956)

    Earth vs. the Flying Saucers (1956)

    (On Cable TV, June 2020) Despite its silly-sounding title, Earth vs. the Flying Saucers comes across as a techno-thriller of the 1950s. It does splendidly exemplify the flying saucer paranoia of the 1950s—and as a result still keeps some charm even if you think that UFOlogy is a bunch of hooey. The plot and characters aren’t developed or executed as effectively as they should, especially given a promising start. But plot and characters aren’t the right reason to see Earth vs. the Flying Saucers—that would be the crude, yet effective special effects from the legendary Ray Harryhausen, with its prototypical flying saucers surprisingly well integrated into the scenes. The ending is an all-out special effects spectacle taking aim at Washington, DC monuments, culminating with the iconic capitol scene. You can see echoes of this film in many, many successors—consider watching this as a double-bill with Mars Attacks! Quite enjoyable in its own way, Earth vs. the Flying Saucers is best approached as an earnest and endearing time capsule of fears and wonders.

  • Blackmail (1939)

    Blackmail (1939)

    (On Cable TV, June 2020) Edward G. Robinson takes a break from gangster roles in Blackmail, a story that has him play an expert firefighter with a dark past. That past gets exposed when an ex-con chances upon the protagonist, which eventually sends him back to a chain gang. Escape and revenge follow, in a film heavier on social themes than you’d expect. Robinson is as good as ever, although the film’s most memorable role goes to Gene Lockhart as a slimy blackmailer who takes over the protagonist’s empire after sending him back to prison. Blackmail is certainly watchable, and it is bookended by surprisingly engaging sequences revolving around oil fire blowouts. Robinson didn’t become one of the biggest stars of the 1930s for no reason, and even in a utilitarian role like the one here, you can see his ability to command audiences effortlessly.

  • Le sang d’un poète [The Blood of a Poet] (1930)

    Le sang d’un poète [The Blood of a Poet] (1930)

    (archive.org streaming, June 2020) One of my big conceptual breakthroughs of my mid-twenties was realizing that adjectives such as “post-modern” and “avant-garde” were not necessarily tied to the present and could, in fact, designate historical works. A film such as Jean Cocteau’s Le sang d’un poète, for instance, is ninety years old and yet still as avant-garde today as it was back then. Trying to describe the plot is an exercise in futility, as it’s a surrealist collage of dreamlike imagery somewhat reminiscent of Bunuel (surrealism being big at the time). It’s not uninteresting, but it is far slower-paced than it could have been. Then again, I’m definitely more modern than postmodern in my film appreciation – and have been for decades. Something is worth noting for twenty-first century viewers: Le sang d’un poète uses some very effective special effects, as primitive as they may be.

  • Star Wars: Episode IX— The Rise of Skywalker (2019)

    Star Wars: Episode IX— The Rise of Skywalker (2019)

    (On Blu-ray, June 2020) I was more critical than most about The Force Awakens and more lenient than many about The Last Jedi, yet nonetheless perilously close to indifference in watching The Rise of Skywalker—If Disney’s stewardship of the series has accomplished one thing so far, it’s to strip away the layer of myth and magic that once surrounded Star Wars movies. They are now mere instalments in a money-making franchise, and expectations about this third entry in the newest mainline series were never going to be met. Expecting the worst does work wonders, though—while this ninth instalment is far from being as good as it could have been and confirms this entire third trilogy as a disappointment, there are a few good moments here and there. At its best, this entry does go back to some of the adventure-filled fun of a small group of friends fighting against overwhelming odds—but it does have to copy entire swatches of previous movies in order to get there, and it’s always skewed by a needlessly darker side that has to do with the heroine, her counterpart and their gigantic good-versus-evil theme. It’s boring when the action cuts away to Rey doing her demigod things—it’s lot more fun to hang out with the mere mortals. While the constant borrowing of Star Wars’ greatest hits does get tiresome, there are a few striking visuals in The Rise of Skywalker—perhaps most notably taking a trip through a fallen Death Star. Still, there are wasted opportunities running through this third film not only for itself, but for barely managing to tie up the threads of the series. Clearly handicapped by a lack of central direction, this trilogy is messy in ways that it shouldn’t be under modern IP stewardship—aborted arcs, abusive retcons of major plot points from the previous film, lack of thematic unity and dumb plotting led by rule of cool at the expense of everything else. One example, and not the most important: I do like Naomi Ackie’s addition to the cast, but her character feels shoehorned here as a last-minute character meant as a foil for Flinn—but then over to Lando because the movie has no clue how to tie things up. The fanservice is blatant (and that’s just the stuff I caught—I suspect that there’s a lot more solely due to unnatural camera moves whenever a few extras show up) but it’s ultimately meaningless because the series will never be as beloved as it once was—if I had my say, I’d drop this third trilogy down the memory well as non-canon and try something not so slavishly aping the first trilogy. Visually, The Rise of Skywalker is admittedly wonderful and stands at the top of what’s possible with SFX—but the story is all over the place and the entire thing simply feels like a waste, even as it generally does better than its immediate predecessors. It took me six months to get to that film after its theatrical release, so indifferent I was to the series at this point… and it’s fair to say that I’m not really all that excited about anything else Star Wars has to offer in the near future.

  • Flash Gordon Conquers the Universe (1940)

    Flash Gordon Conquers the Universe (1940)

    (On Cable TV, June 2020) With now more than a hundred years of film history to riffle through, there are several individual films that, while not worth watching by themselves, can be a useful representative of entire subgenres. For instance, I won’t recommend that you watch Flash Gordon Conquers the Universe for its intrinsic qualities—taken by itself, it’s cheaply conceived, badly written and ineptly executed. The cliché storm is of galactic proportions, the plot drivers are generic and the production values are threadbare. On the other hand, it’s a splendid illustration of early 1940s sci-fi serials (and goodness knows there weren’t that many non-serial Science Fiction movies in that decade) and it’s certainly interesting viewing for anyone who has previously seen the 1980 camp classic. What’s more, you can see here part of the inspiration that led to Star Wars, all the way to the scrolling summaries of past episodes. As such, Flash Gordon Conquers the Universe isn’t thrilling entertainment, but it is (alongside any of the films in the series) sort of mandatory viewing for SF cinema historians. You don’t have to see that specific film, but any one of them should do. Keep in mind, though, that I haven’t seen the end of it: The recording cut short in the last two or three minutes, and that didn’t bother me all that much. Does he actually conquer the universe? I’m confident he does. [April 2025: I finally looked it up, unable to tolerate the suspense any longer. Spoiler alert: he totally does.]

  • Luis & the Aliens (2018)

    Luis & the Aliens (2018)

    (On Cable TV, June 2020) For movie reviewers with wide-ranging tastes, there’s always a tendency to praise the underdog, and the family animation movie genre is getting crowded with alternatives to Pixar, Dreamworks and Illumination. Luis & the Aliens is one of those lower-budgeted family comedies, clearly not up to the example set by the genre’s front-runners but still able to deliver a story in its own way. Alas, reviewers would be wasting their time trying to pretend that this is a hidden gem: only the less demanding kids will be particularly interested in the B-grade comedy with stock morals and underwhelming material about grotesque shape-shifting aliens trying to pass as human. The writing isn’t necessarily much better, with ordinary dialogue and an unbelievable caricature of a distracted father (no character sympathy there!) While the story does come together in the end, it does so with few surprises and few memorable moments. Luis & the Aliens is not terrible but it’s not particularly good either. Maybe see it once you’ve seen nearly everything else.

  • Grand Isle (2019)

    Grand Isle (2019)

    (On Cable TV, June 2020) Nicolas Cage is certainly cranking out the films in his older back-tax-paying age, and while Grand Isle isn’t a particularly good Cage film, you can see why he was cast in it. A southern Gothic in which a young man is invited in a vast mansion by a man intent on hiring him to kill his wife, it’s a film with a kernel of potential. Despite the film’s low budget, it’s credibly set in the sweaty humid hurricane-prone atmosphere of Louisiana. The age-old setup has a warring couple making demands on the younger stranger brought among them—in the middle of a hurricane, in an old Victorian house, no less. The nervy sound design, with wind and thunder, is designed to keep up on our toes during it all. In the cast, Cage is Cage (although maybe not as intensely as we’d prefer), while KaDee Strickland shows some potential as a femme fatale and Kelsey Grammer is quite enjoyable as a southern lawyer in the framing story. Alas, those promising elements are eventually blown away, most notably during a scattered third act that keeps going long after the action should have been settled and in doing so breaks the time/space unity that thrillers should keep in mind. (It also introduces a different dramatic arc that is resolved very quickly afterward, and doesn’t do much except allow Cage to be shown with a different hairstyle.) Grand Isle’s production history suggests that the production ran out of money before shooting the last two days of filming, but I have a hard time imagining that even one more week would fix what’s flawed here. The only consolation is that if you didn’t like it, well, there are five other 2019 Nicolas Cage movies to help you feel better.

  • The Good Liar (2019)

    The Good Liar (2019)

    (On Cable TV, June 2020) Some movies are best appreciated without narrative, but for the longest time it feels as if The Good Liar won’t be one of them. As it clearly establishes itself as a suspense film in which an elderly conman sets his sights on a wealthy widow, we can anticipate the coming twists and turns: cons are only as good as their terrible targets and, since she’s not, then there will be a counter-con. It’s in the movie genre lexicon. We’re just along for the ride until she springs the trap. Until that point, we’re left to enjoy Ian McKellen and Helen Mirren as they go through the plot, make their way through the set-pieces designed to show off their duplicity (or ruthlessness) and just appreciate the atmosphere provided by director Bill Condon, once against working hard at providing slick entertainment for older audiences. It’s all good fun according to the unspoken rules of the genre, and despite a weird detour through Berlin, by the 80-minute mark we’re ready for the last revelations to be put in place. They are. The twists happen. The charming widow isn’t what she presented herself as—but we knew that all along. But then the film keeps going, adding more and more layers of personal revenge to the story until we’re left shaking our heads at how unnecessary those last twists were, how they come out of nowhere, and how they take away from the film’s well-worn charm. It doesn’t change much to the overall telling of the tale, but it does push the film firmly from “fun” to “not-fun” territory, which is a significant miscalculation for a con film. I still enjoyed most of The Good Liar, but I could have done without much of the last 15 minutes, so at-odds they seem to be with the remainder of it. Still—McKellen and Mirren playing off each other certainly isn’t to be dismissed lightly.

  • La chute de l’empire américain [The Fall of the American Empire] (2018)

    La chute de l’empire américain [The Fall of the American Empire] (2018)

    (On Cable TV, June 2020) French-Canadian writer-director Denys Arcand certainly courts scrutiny by calling his thriller La chute de l’empire américain, considering that one of his landmark works (all the way to the Oscars) was called Le déclin de l’empire américain. Especially considering that it’s in no way a narrative sequel—while some Arcand veterans return in supporting roles, they don’t play the same characters and even the genre of the film is different—from social drama, we go to a small-scale thriller. But the bait-and-switch of the title aside, La chute de l’empire américain is a capable suspense film from a director who knows what he’s doing. It starts with a familiar thriller trope: what if an everyman came into possession of a large quantity of money generated through illegal means? This being said, Arcand being Arcand means that there’s no such thing as a simple thriller: his film is filled with philosophical, moral and social elements that go beyond the clichés. Solid character work and actors ensure that there’s a progressive attachment to the film, even as it goes from low crime to high finance (and, one would argue, higher crimes). Alexandre Landry turns in an appropriately nervous and awkward lead performance, while old-school pros like Remy Girard and Pierre Curzi round off the cast. Perhaps most surprising of all is how La chute de l’empire américain, after flirting with crime thriller, eventually makes its way to humanistic comedy, gradually dispensing with shades of gray to get to a luminous conclusion. Arcand plays with the genre idea that most people who lust after money eventually pay for it—by showing how some, with money, can choose generosity over greed. It’s a fun, entertaining, unusual watch: I would have liked a different, less flashy title, but the film itself is solid.

  • Like Father Like Son (1987)

    Like Father Like Son (1987)

    (In French, On Cable TV, June 2020) The popularity of body-switching comedies during the 1980s is mystifying but not unexplainable, as any comedian who’s worth their SAG card would jump at the opportunity to goof off as someone else. Dudley Moore certainly hams it up playing a teenager switched in an adult body in Like Father Like Son—but Kirk Cameron is far from being as interesting playing the adult in a teenager’s body. The film noticeably becomes duller toward the middle, as scenes drag on without much wit, and loose ends are left dangling all over the place. Like Father Like Son is seemingly assembled from standard plot pieces, all the way to the usual plot resolution and moralistic restrictions (no, there won’t be any switched-body hanky-panky—this is PG-13 after all!) It’s all a bit too middle-of-the-road to be fully interesting.

  • The Kill Team (2019)

    The Kill Team (2019)

    (On Cable TV, June 2020) Young men in wars have the potential to perform horrifying actions, and it’s not because they are on “our” side that they’re necessarily virtuous. The Kill Team goes back to a true story of the Afghanistan War, circa 2009, to have a credible look at ethics and violence in wartime. It’s a war movie that mulls on the freedom given to very young soldiers to kill and be rewarded for it. Nat Wolff stars as a young soldier who grows a conscience when a senior officer (Alexander Skarsgård, in the film’s standout performance) starts framing civilians with deadly results. The Kill Team is absolutely not a feel-good war-is-an-adventure kind of film—it’s a look at bad options when teammates single out someone with moral scruples, when authority itself is corrupt and culture doesn’t lend itself to ethical choices. As such, it’s a respectable film that isn’t particularly good—and its very glum subject matter makes it less than entertaining by design.

  • Cherry 2000 (1987)

    Cherry 2000 (1987)

    (Second Viewing, on Cable TV, June 2020) Heyyy… I remember watching Cherry 2000 off basic TV as a teenager, and in retrospect it’s kind of amazing that a movie about a man going on a post-apocalyptic quest to repair his sex bot was playing on network TV. But, of course, this was French Canadian TV, and it’s not as if PG-13 Cherry 2000 is all that explicit in the first place. Decades later, it has settled into a quirky Science Fiction adventure, with Melanie Griffith in a strong role as a tough action heroine who inevitably becomes the love interest of the protagonist (a bland David Andrews) once he gives up on the whole refurbished-sex-bot thing. Despite ambitious worldbuilding, Cherry 2000 is clearly limited by its budget and mid-1980s special effects technology, as well as a script that wants to be subversive and satirical but is held back by its own lack of self-confidence. It’s a bit too scattered to be effective—according to the film’s production history, it was completed in 1985 but held back from release until 1988, having clearly flummoxed its marketing team. But, in retrospect, it does have a bit of oddball charm. While Cherry 2000 isn’t any kind of classic (cult or otherwise), it is kind of amusing, and still carries the genre-bending spirit of the 1980s with it.

  • Tian jiang xiong shi [Dragon Blade] (2015)

    Tian jiang xiong shi [Dragon Blade] (2015)

    (In French, on TV, June 2020) In early retrospect, the 2010s were a weird decade of cinematographic American/Chinese intermingling. Much of it can be explained by China’s conscious efforts to make inroads in Hollywood through financing deals and co-productions. By the end of the decade, Chinese films were better than ever (having learned much from Hollywood), while American audiences were left with endless logos at the beginning of many films, bizarre casting choices and Hollywood’s refusal to take any sort of principled position against China. Still, artifacts of this period will remain with us, and you can take Dragon Blade as one of the most obvious ones. Clearly an attempt to combine the strengths of eastern and western filmmaking, it proposes Roman soldiers making their way to the end of the Silk Road and allying themselves with Chinese forces against another group of Roman soldiers. Somehow, Adrien Brody is presented an action hero, facing down a team-up of John Cusack and Jackie Chan as an elderly pacifist warrior. It’s all executed in grandiose fashion by writer-director Daniel Lee, with big spectacular fight sequences, fancy CGI and sweeping camera shots. (You can tell that this isn’t The Great Wall because there are no supernatural enemies.) Alas, the result is mixed. Brody chews scenery while Cusack looks perplexed, and Chan’s martial sequences are low-key compared to his earlier films—not to mention atonal in the middle of a big CGI battle film. Dragon Blade isn’t particularly good, although it does warrant some attention for its blend of things that don’t necessarily go together, even if they’re proven not to go together. I’m not sure if this decade of China/Hollywood collaboration will last [October 2024: Four years into the 2020s, it looks as if China is leaving Hollywood alone, having extracted all it could], but we’ll always have Dragon Blade as a memento of that time.