Movie Review

  • The Thief of Bagdad (1940)

    The Thief of Bagdad (1940)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2018) I really wish I had a better reaction to report regarding the 1940 version of The Thief of Bagdad. It is, after all, a recognized classic of fantasy filmmaking, influential over the written genre and a landmark of sort for a generation of moviegoers. It is obviously a big-budget studio tentpole picture decades before such things became codified in the Hollywood DNA: Executed in colour at a time when such things were rare, it features a lot of special effects (including the first uses of chroma key/bluescreen technology), imaginative fantasy creations and a big wide epic scope. Unfortunately, I found the film aimed a bit too young, and some of the resulting tone to be juvenile. Also, and this is really a compliment to the film, much of The Thief of Bagdad feels very, very familiar—you can see its influence over a whole sub-genre of Arabian fantasies, from Disney’s Aladdin to the Prince of Persia series … and that does lend a tough atmosphere of déjà vu to the entire film. It proved duller than it should have been, and that’s really not what I was anticipating.

  • Key Largo (1948)

    Key Largo (1948)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2018) There are actors that elevate the material they’re given no matter the genre or how many years later you see the result, and so while Key Largo is in itself a perfectly serviceable thriller, having Humphrey Bogart in the lead role certainly doesn’t hurt. At times a small-scale thriller in which various people are trapped in a Florida hotel during a hurricane (showing its theatrical origins), the film eventually opens up to a boat-set finale. In another classic pairing with Bogart, Lauren Bacall plays the dame in distress, with strong supporting performances from Edward G. Robinson and Claire Trevor. Director John Huston keeps things tight and suspenseful as characters are forced to interacting in a small setting—you can see the influence that the film had over some of Tarantino’s work, for instance. Key Largo is not particularly remarkable, but it does have this pleasant late-forties Hollywood studio sheen, meaning that you can watch it and be assured of a good time.

  • Robin Hood (1973)

    Robin Hood (1973)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, February 2018) There are Disney movies that leave me indifferent, but few of them feel as irritating as Robin Hood. It shouldn’t be like that—I grew up with a lot of Robin Hood paraphernalia, and I rather like the idea of playing with the classic Robin Hood story with animal archetypes. But knowing about Robin Hood and watching Robin Hood are different things—for viewers used to Disney’s ability to entertain whole families at once, Robin Hood seems far too clearly aimed at younger kids, with stand-in child characters taking a lot of time and the overall film pitched to a much lower common denominator. Then there are other annoyances, some of whom may not apply to others. As a rather proud taxpayer, I was really disappointed to see the film take on a quasi-Republican take on “all taxes are evil”—if, like others have claimed, Robin Hood was incredibly influential, then we have a single film to blame for both furries and libertarians. Maybe all copies should be locked up and designated dangerous. OK, I kid, but not too much—there’s a lot of caricatures going on in Robin Hood, and they all aim for a young and impressionable age. I wasn’t particularly impressed by the result, and part of it may be due with familiarity with the source material and the consequent lack of anything “extra” from the film to make it even better. Other, similarly familiar Disney movies usually had something more (songs, witty repartee, quality of animation, even sheer odd psychedelic sequences) that went beyond my childhood memories. Robin Hood doesn’t, and that’s why it feels so flat when it’s not being actively irritating.

  • Rebel Without a Cause (1955)

    Rebel Without a Cause (1955)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2018) Things change, people evolve and standards move … but in James Dean’s case, he remains etched in perpetuity in three movies, of which Rebel Without a Cause remains the most iconic. Dean, modern audiences are told, exemplified the new American teenager of the 1950s: cool and lost and identifiable to teenagers while being vaguely threatening to older audiences. Younger audiences then lapped it up, of course, and we ended up with an icon made permanent thanks to his undue death. From a modern perspective, though, Rebel Without a Cause remains a film of its time, and Dean is rather irritating. His then-new detachment has become annoying moping by the 2010s, and his style has been taken on by so many better actors that, at times, Dean seems to be playing an exaggerated version of James Franco. I’m being too harsh, and yet I’m stuck at how much I don’t buy into the Dean mystique now that I’m middle-aged and contemplating a near future in which my own kid will be a rebellious teenager. Rebel without a Cause, to be fair, does work now as a time capsule of mid-1950s Californian suburbia. As a teenage drama, the stakes of the film are relatively low, with an emphasis on generational disconnect rather than outright confrontation. What’s more, what the Dean hype doesn’t quite tell you is that Dean’s character in the film is more confused than detached—he’s trying to do the right thing, but the world is stacked against him and the not-so-cheery ending makes that clear. I don’t think it has aged all that well—the rebelliousness did anticipate the sixties (explaining the film’s appeal to baby boomers) but seems rather old material today when endless teen-TV series are looking at the same material, except with far more complexity. Rebel without a Cause remains an essential film if only to understand Dean’s appeal, but it’s not exactly terrific on its own for modern audiences.

  • Swing Time (1936)

    Swing Time (1936)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2018) Any review of Swing Time risks being high on praise yet low in details, as much of the charm of the film lies in the dance numbers and physical performances from both Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire. After what feels like an overly lengthy setup, the film starts heating up whenever Astaire meets Rogers and gets down to the dance moves. There’s undeniable charm to their shared numbers, and their technical proficiency is undeniable—even today, eighty years later, it still looks fantastic and a pleasure to re-watch. I’m torn on the “Bojangles of Harlem” number, though—while toe-tapping and technically far before its time with rear projection used as special effects, it does feature Astaire in blackface, and even making the segment a homage to Al Johnson isn’t enough to ease modern discomfort. Far less objectionable is “Waltz in Swing Time,” perhaps the finest footage of Rogers and Astaire together. While Swing Time itself may be slight (although it’s fun to step back in mid-nineteen-thirties Manhattan), the dance numbers are terrific, and that’s nearly all that matters.

  • Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (1936)

    Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (1936)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2018) As much as it pains me to say so, I’m having a bit of trouble properly assessing Mr. Deeds Goes to Town given the existence of the Adam Sandler remake Mr. Deeds. It shouldn’t be this way—Gary Cooper is a far more likable performer than Sandler, and the Frank Capra-directed original is a far more mature piece of work than the lowbrow remake. Still, both movies follow the same structure to such an extent that even a few weeks after seeing the original (oops; I should write these reviews sooner!) the two of them are blurring together. I’m reasonably confident that Winona Ryder wasn’t alive in 1936, though, so here goes: Highlights of the original include a warm performance from Gary Cooper, as well as a fascinating look at mid-thirties New York City, a surprisingly contemporary look at the gossip media news cycle, and a funny montage or two. (One of Capra’s strengths, even from today’s perspective, is his ability to use montages effectively.) It all amounts to an amiable movie, even a heart-warming one … even though its impact may be blunted in those who have seen the remake. I liked it, and while Mr. Deeds Goes to Town clearly show why Gary Cooper was a star, it also shows why Cooper isn’t as fondly remembered as Cary Grant (who was far better at comedy) or James Stewart (a more relatable everyday man). It’s certainly worth a look, even for those who have seen the remake.

  • Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939)

    Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2018) It’s practically impossible to be an American political junkie and not know about Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, given the film’s stature as a statement about the American political system and its iconic representation of James Stewart as a filibusterer. Curiously enough, though, I had never seen the film. Not so curiously enough, I had seen enough of James Stewart to be an unqualified fan of the actor even before watching Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. That may explain why I spent most of the film in a buoyant joy, watching one of my all-time favourite actor in a film that, perhaps now more than ever, still resonates as an eloquent paean to the ideals of American-style democracy despite the messiness of its practice. It wasn’t necessarily perceived as such, though—If I believe the contemporary snippets quoted on the film’s Wikipedia page, the film was initially condemned for its cynical take on the corruption of the system, and the idealistic nature of its protagonist’s struggles. But while such an approach may have shocked well-meaning commentators then, it may strike contemporary viewers as healthy informed idealism today. Corruption is a natural enemy of governance at all times (now more than ever, considering a current presidential administration that spins off a new scandal every three days) but a healthy government has ways to fight back, and it sometimes takes just one person with the right ideals to make things happen. I still think that the film ends without a satisfying coda, that Stewart’s character is initially presented as too much of a simpleton, and that we don’t see nearly enough of Jean Arthur. On the other hand, Frank Capra’s film remains just as sharp and compelling today as it was—even the climactic filibuster sequence, with its near-real-time popular manipulation and reaction, still plays exceptionally well in this age of constant news cycle. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is an acknowledged classic for a reason, and you don’t have to be a political junkie nor a James Stewart devotee to understand why.

  • White Heat (1949)

    White Heat (1949)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2018) Most reviews boil down to reasons why viewers would want to see a film (or not) and trying to comment on older movies usually filters that answer through a contemporary perspective: what would viewers enjoy (or not) from this film considering today’s perspective? For White Heat, the three main points are; a solid crime story, interesting period detail and James Cagney. White Heat presents the last years of a career criminal, as he gets arrested, goes to prison, escapes and hatches a new plan. The finale is explosive, with “Made it, Ma! Top of the world!” still a reference for movie buffs. Still, the story itself is well crafted and Cagney’s performance is truly enjoyable. The psychodynamics of his character’s attachment to his mom is still rich fodder for crime movie inspiration, along with some femme fatale material, a police informer, a gripping prison mess hall scene and a steadily engrossing story. Nearly seventy years later, there is also a bit of fascination in seeing White Heat take on techno-thriller plot devices, notably in explaining the minutia of radio tracking. It all amounts to a solid and satisfying crime thriller that holds up even today.

  • Tom Jones (1963)

    Tom Jones (1963)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2018) There are many reasons why I should like Tom Jones. It’s a comedy, set in convincing period setting, with twists and turns and quite a bit of naughtiness. It won the Big Oscar. It features Albert Finney as a simple-minded lad irresistible to the surrounding women, and it frequently breaks the fourth wall, begging the audience to acknowledge how silly it is. The opening sequence even takes on silent movie airs for laughs. It plays some dramatic sequences as comedy and some uplifting sequences for discomfort (such as the hunting sequence). But strangely enough, I had a hard time convincing myself to pay attention to the film. It feels lifeless, clunky, at times trying too hard and at others holding back on some of its potential. It’s unfortunate that I constantly ended up comparing it to the somewhat-similar Barry Lyndon (which is almost as funny despite being, well, a Kubrick drama)  In some ways, I think that Tom Jones may have been made five or ten years too early: A lot of what it has to say (in libidinous terms, for instance, or in how to integrate comedy with period pieces) would be done more successfully in the late sixties, or in films such as Woody Allen’s Love and Death (1975). As it is, it’s mildly naughty without being truly free to deliver on its promises and not quite sure where to push the comic envelope. It still won that year’s Best Picture Oscar, though, so what do I know?

  • Synecdoche, New York (2008)

    Synecdoche, New York (2008)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On DVD, February 2018) I have a long list of annoyances when it comes to movies, and at first glance Synecdoche, New York seems to hit an impressive number of them. It’s consciously made to annoy viewers, to revel in their darkest fears, to rush to the worst ending imaginable, to become self-involved in its own inscrutable metafictional games, to screw with expectations for no reasons. Coming from the reliably twisted mind of writer/director Charlie Kaufman, this is a film that jumps in-between high concept, dream sequences, a background apocalypse, characters taking each other’s roles, intense symbolism and decades of events compressed in barely more than two hours. It barely explains what it’s doing, leaving viewers to ponder and search for fascinating readings about the film’s means and meanings. Heck, the lead character may not even be himself. I have been infuriated by tamer movies. Adding to the potential disaster, the DVD version of the film does not have English subtitles, making my life much harder as I was watching the film in less-than-ideal audio circumstances. (I eventually found and read a copy of the script to make sure that I hadn’t missed anything important, and was relieved to find that I hadn’t.)  But, for lack of a better expression, Synecdoche, New York worked its magic over me. The relentless gloom of the film quickly becomes a comedy, and once you accept that the film will make more emotional sense than a purely narrative one, it becomes a curiously enjoyable experience. The metafictional book-reading scene set aboard a plane flight had me laughing, which is not something I would have anticipated from a movie that features a greatest hits selection of every single fear that adults can have, from being estranged from loved ones, to progressive illness, to being made completely redundant, to not being forgiven, to surviving the end of the world, and so on. Gloriously ambitious, Synecdoche, New York is about everything. Philip Seymour Hoffman turns in one of his great performances as the tortured hero, ably supported by cast as varied as Catherine Keener, Tom Noonan and Dianne Wiest — the last of which has an unsettling and memorable role. Adding to the strangeness, Samantha Morton and Emily Watson are rather eye-catching here, which is really weird given that I usually don’t rank them particularly high on my own list of sex-symbol actresses. Ultimately, Synecdoche, New York’s unrepentant refusal to be ordinary is what sets it apart. I’ll leave viewers to decide if it’s best seen cold or not (this is not a movie that can be spoiled), but any second viewing should be done after gorging oneself with various commentaries, interpretations and lengthy analyses of the film. It’s incredibly rich material for discussion, and I’m as surprised as anyone to like the film as much as I did.

  • The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948)

    The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2018) I was impressed to see how, even seventy years later, there is still such a strong narrative drive to The Treasure of the Sierra Madre and how well it balances character development with its plot. It helps that the film quickly sets up its core characters. Humphrey Bogart is fine as a downtrodden American willing to do whatever it takes to barely survive in Mexico, but the film’s highlight is Walter Huston (the director’s father) as an immensely likable grizzled prospector. Meanwhile, Tim Holt does serviceable work at the character who is tempted by various moral choices. With such good characters, the plot comes alive as our protagonist find a way out of a backwater Mexican town to explore a mountain for gold. That they find it so quickly only sets up more difficult choices later on, as gold fever grips the characters and paranoia sets in. Notable for having been shot on location, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre is one of those (surprisingly rare) black-and-white movies that I wish had been shot in colour, given how much importance the setting takes. In other areas, however, the film hasn’t aged a bit: the dialogue is still sharp, the plot generally unpredictable and the actors do fine work with the dramatic arc they’re given. Writer/director John Huston did exceptional work and the result still speaks for itself.

  • The Mummy (1932)

    The Mummy (1932)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2018) I was surprised to find out that the original Universal Monster movie The Mummy is such a restrained piece of work. Eschewing easy scares and thrills, this surprisingly romantic film seems to run long even at 73 minutes, relying on repeated full-face shots of Bela Lugosi as Imhotep to carry much of the movie. It’s not bad, but it moves surprisingly slower than you’d expect. The brute-force stereotyped Egyptian flavour feels comfortable, but in-between the laborious exposition and the pauses for romance there is a lot of time to contemplate the way the film doesn’t move forward very quickly. At least Lugosi is convincing as the Mummy, and Zita Johann still looks surprisingly good with longer curly hair. As someone who saw the 1999 remake in theatres and immediately liked it a lot, I’m satisfied to have finally seen the original … but I’m not going to claim that it is anything other than a film of its time.

  • You Can’t Take it With You (1938)

    You Can’t Take it With You (1938)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2018) Despite James Stewart’s considerable charm (and here he has the chance to play as pure a young romantic lead as he ever got), it took me a while to warm up to You Can’t Take it with You. Despite an eccentric cast of characters, it takes a long time for the comedy to truly take off. Fortunately, this happens midway through, as an explosive sequence is followed up by a rather amusing courtroom sequence. That’s when director Frank Capra feels freest to truly unleash the madness of his characters, and what it means for the plot. Less successful is the film’s last act, which focuses on more manners moral lessons (it’s right there in the title), lessening the film’s laugh quotient but ensuring that it would present an easy moral lesson fit for the film to win that year’s Best Picture Oscar. This being said, the film is not a chore to watch even today. James Stewart is always good, of course, while Lionel Barrymore is unusually sympathetic as the patriarch of an oddball family and 15-year-old Ann Miller makes an impression as the family’s dance-crazy daughter. The film’s mid-point highlight is good for a few laughs, and even easy moral lessons can work well in wrapping up a satisfying viewing experience. As a checkmark for best Picture completists, it’s an odd but not a bothersome entry.

  • How the West was Won (1962)

    How the West was Won (1962)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2018) Even fifty-five years later, How the West was Won remains a singular viewing experience. One of the few narrative movies developed for the three-projector surround “Cinemax” process, it’s a western with an ambitious narrative scope (follow the development of the American west through four stories spanning generations of a family) and an impressive technical polish. From the first few moments spent flying over mountainous landscapes, the quality of the picture is breathtaking (especially given the 2012 digital restoration of the film)—on a modern HD display, the flattened widescreen film looks crisp and colourful like few others of the period. Moments later, as we get away from the landscapes and nearer to characters, we get to see the flip side of the film’s technical imitations when presented on a dingle screen: Almost all of the action is centred in the middle third and the camera never gets closer to the characters than waist-up middle shots. Any lateral movement makes the fisheye lensing of the film blatant, and the impact is jarring enough to remind us that we are, after all, watching a technical novelty. Fortunately, the film is suited well to mid-size fragmented viewing: Each of the four narratives runs between 30 and 45 minutes, allowing for breaks. Thematically, the film does have a few hurdles to overcome: The opening narration mentions “taking back the land from nature and primitive people,” setting up both the film’s very American manifest destiny narrative and a repellent treatment of native-American characters. Fortunately, the film avoids some of the worst excesses of the genre: while “the Indians” are treated as the enemy in one of the film’s signature action sequences, Native American are treated more kindly in other segments featuring white character willing to deal fairly with them (and the terrible consequences of breaking those promises). Each segment is generally enjoyable, all building up to a closing action sequences. The first, “The Rivers,” features an older James Stewart as a likable river runner encountering settlers and features a satisfying revenge arc. “The Plains” culminates in an attack on a settlers’ convoy. “The Civil War” is just about what you expect, while “The Railroad” builds to an astonishing stampede and “The Outlaws” features a wide-screen train robbery sequence. Not everything is likable, though. For a film that features a middle segment set on a Civil War battleground, nothing is said of slavery. Manifest Destiny is taken as holy writ, all the way to 1962’s highways. But for a piece of white-American propaganda, How the West Was Won is perhaps more nuanced that it could have been. The treatment of Native Americans isn’t as one-sided as it could have been, and the film seldom shies away from the harsh conditions that settlers endured, from bandit attacks to meaningless war conscription to children seeing their parents die in a buffalo stampede. Still, I suspect that most viewers won’t remember the details of the plot as much as the flattened Cinerama experience. I never thought I’d say it, but here goes: If you have one of those otherwise-useless curved TV screen, How the West Was Won seems like the one movie taking advantage of that format.

  • The Emoji Movie (2017)

    The Emoji Movie (2017)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2018)  After seeing the critical savaging received by The Emoji Movie (“One of the Worst Movies of All-Time” ran a typical piece), I was pretty sure that approaching the film with sufficiently lowered expectations would be enough to ensure an average viewing experience. But despite a few mildly interesting moments, The Emoji Movie turns out to be just as bad as the critical consensus determined. Part of it has to do with an instinctual rejection of a fad bandwagon: While emojis have their place and are not going anywhere, The Emoji Movie is as instantly dated as any film can be, making obvious references to contemporary businesses, current technology and social mores of the moment. It would have been incomprehensible five years ago, and is likely to feel unbearably dated five years from now. But let’s not pretend that flash-in-the-pan prejudice can solely account for the film’s bad impression. The nonsense world building also has much to do with it—the film is bad enough without any technological knowledge (I’m not sure the screenwriters understand the definition of a firewall), but the metaphors (trolls inside the phone?) don’t make sense even for non-technological audiences and the inner contradictions become even worse throughout the film. The Emoji Movie is also terrifyingly lazy in its plot development and thematic concerns, having a character creating an apocalypse and then being congratulated for stopping it. It doesn’t further help that the characters are dull, the jokes are easy and the overall imaginative depth of the film is superficial. Compare this to any Pixar film and you can see how inferior the result is. To be clear: The Emoji Movie is not worth burning down a DVD to prevent it from ever being seen again … but it’s not a good film.