Movie Review

  • The Last Dragonslayer (2016)

    The Last Dragonslayer (2016)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2020) It’s always a treat to see a movie adaptation of a favourite author’s novels—even if you haven’t read that specific novel. I should explain that while I read nearly all of Jasper Fforde’s pre-2010 output, my reading regimen fell off a cliff after that date, and I haven’t necessarily placed Fforde’s Young-Adult output on my priority reading list since then. Still—Fforde’s wild imagination deserves more attention, and even a low-budget TV movie is a way to experience his trademark style in a different way. Let’s get the obvious out of the way—as a modestly budgeted TV show tackling a fantasy story set in a world where the modern flirts with the magical, The Last Dragonslayer is not without technical issues, dodgy special effects (although roughly on par with 1996’s Dragonheart, so there’s that), awkward cost-cutting cinematography and less-than-stellar technical credentials. But even in that framework, the film punches above its weight. The Fforde-infused imagination certainly helps, as part of the film’s fun is plunging into an alternate reality that accommodates the Internet and dragons at once. Ellise Chappell is quite appealing as the titular dragonslayer who’s not all that keen on escaping a modest upbringing to be asked to go kill a dragon she has no quarrels with. The film’s takes on familiar fantasy tropes in a world that blends modern tropes with the traditional ones is a lot of fun, and it comes with a healthy dose of satire that harkens back to Jasper’s earlier adult novels. There are links here with The Boy Who Would be King—both would make an excellent double feature. I’m not sure someone will ever dare consider tackling Fforde’s other novels to the big screen, but The Last Dragonslayer is quite nice for what it is.

  • The Symbol of the Unconquered (1920)

    The Symbol of the Unconquered (1920)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2020) It’s easy to become fascinated by the few surviving movies of Oscar Michaux, the first black film mogul. He was making, as early as the 1910s, movies by and for black audiences, with an uncompromising point of view. Most astonishing of all is how tenuously his movies are still with us today—The Symbol of the Unconquered, for instance, has survived a hundred years thanks to a single copy found in Europe, in another language. It’s rough, of course, but the restored and back-translated film holds fascination as much for what it represents than what it is. Justly conceived as an answer to the massively-seen (and just as massively-racist) film The Birth of a Nation, it’s a film that squarely aims at the newly-resurgent KKK and features an appealing black couple fighting back against the racist whites. (Well, they’re not a couple at the time—among other issues tackled by the dense 54-minute film are considerations of self-image when passing white.)  It’s always satisfying to see racists get their comeuppance as worthy targets of scorn, but there’s an added resonance in seeing such a thing in a 1920 movie. The film is not, to be said, that good by itself—there are weird tangents, rough technical issues, and they weren’t able to rescue the entire film from that single European copy—the climactic defeat of the KKK isn’t shown, for instance. Still, the passion is there, Iris Hall looks wonderful, and the film actually stands for something. Countless digital copies of The Symbol of the Unconquered now exist (even from the film’s Wikipedia page) and hopefully we’ll never get close again to the possibility of losing this film.

  • A Letter to Three Wives (1949)

    A Letter to Three Wives (1949)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2020) The best and truest thing anyone can still say about A Letter to Three Wives is that it’s really clever—it’s a straight-up domestic drama, but it’s structured in such an irresistible way (a letter is sent by a woman of ill repute to three wives, telling them that she’s run off with one of their husbands… and then the flashbacks and suspense begin) that it feels a great deal more dramatic than had it been more classically structured. It’s all from writer-director Joseph L. Mankiewicz, which made me think—have I ever seen anything from him that wasn’t interesting? (Good, not necessarily, but uninteresting?) The distinctive premise is a great hook, but once you add the unusual structure, the sharply-written characters, the exceptional bon mots and the beautiful rendition of the late-1940s, it’s a spectacular movie. There’s some sex appeal too—Linda Darnelle looks amazing in that glowing Classic Hollywood studio sheen, and a young Kirk Douglas gets a few good moments as a fed-up schoolteacher. You can even use the film as a prism to look at the fractures in the American institution of marriage in the immediate postwar era. But we always go back to the writing, the strong mystery at the heart of the story—Who is that Addie Ross woman, so perfect and beloved by all three husbands? Unexpectedly enough given its world-weary nature, the film even delivers a happy ending of sorts. It’s all wrapped up in terrific narration, even is it steps out of the film’s strict realism. A Letter to Three Wives is remarkably good even for those who don’t care too much for mainstream dramas—a testament to the power of great writing. [August 2021: Wait, The Simpsons lifted an entire episode’s premise off this film? It’s a TV show that has always had surprising depth to its movie references, but even for them, that’s a deep cut.]

  • Father’s Little Dividend (1951)

    Father’s Little Dividend (1951)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, January 2020) If you’re still annoyed at how Steve Martin (or rather Nancy Meyers) screwed up 1995’s Father of the Bride Part II, I’ve got mixed news for you. For one thing, Martin and Meyer weren’t completely making it up by themselves—the sequel was also a remake of 1951’s Father’s Little Divided, with the main plot (the father of the bride becomes a grandfather; angst ensues) inevitably making up the main arc of the follow-up. The good news is that the 1951 film wisely stopped there—there wasn’t a ludicrous subplot about the wife of the father of the bride becoming pregnant at 49, and that’s for the better. Focusing on the original does highlight how much the remake mishandled fundamental elements. Here, the essence of the film remains a universal experience—how do men go through the perception shift of thinking of themselves as grandfathers? Once again, Spencer Tracy makes for the perfect everyman going through a universally relatable scenario. Meanwhile, Elizabeth Taylor is cute but slightly wasted in the role of a young expectant mother—the focus, unfortunately, is squarely on her father without much interest in what she’s going through. While generally likable and still resonant, the film doesn’t equal its predecessor and highlights how values have shifted in the decades since then—the last set-piece of the film before its happy ending (grandpa losing a baby due to inattentiveness) is now nothing short of hair-raising, and that may stop some viewers from embracing the result entirely. (Still, that scene is notable for one interesting constant—Grandpa doesn’t become grandpa at his grandson’s birth, but later on once his self-image catches up to the events.) Still, the film survives this plotting bump thanks to Tracy’s always-sympathetic performance and some warm direction from Vincente Minelli. It may not be enough to smooth over the 1950s attitudes so prevalent here—there’s a lot of “well, accounting for the times…” required to get to the universality of the film. Still, my bold theory is that the 1951 film is still more relatable than the frantic 1995 remake that didn’t trust itself to tell a simple story without making it a frantic two-ring circus. If you’re going to make a film about a rite of passage for older men, why not focus on that? One final piece of trivia that may escape modern viewers: Father’s Little Dividend was released less than a year after Father of the Bride: a breakneck production pace that may explain why this sequel doesn’t quite rise to the level of the first film despite a good attempt.

  • Titanic (1953)

    Titanic (1953)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, January 2020) Most movies are released, seen, discussed and then slowly fade away from memory. A few have the arguably worse fate of permanently being overshadowed by a sequel or remake. While the 1953 version of Titanic wasn’t necessarily remade by the blockbusting 1997 version, there’s only so many ways you can tell the same story, and so both movies will remain forever linked. It’s certainly not the only “earlier version” of the Titanic story (Wikipedia helpfully lists at least three more of those films made prior to 1953), but it’s the one with the most star power, what with Barbara Stanwyck and a very young Robert Wagner in the cast. It’s also one with the bigger budgets, although that money did not stretch to cover historical accuracy—there are significant issues here in terms of factual history, which is highlighted by some generic subplots running through the film in typical Hollywood fashion. The drama is staid, but it does have its moments. Special effects are fair for the time, which may not pass muster today. Considering the film’s context, unflattering comparisons with the 1997 version may not wrong, but they may be misguided—this was blockbuster filmmaking in the early 1950s, and you can almost feel the wheels turning toward the kind of wide-scale spectacle that would be popular toward the end of the decade. A better comparison is with the near-contemporary but superior 1958 film A Night to Remember.

  • Qimen Dunjia [The Thousand Faces of Dunjia] (2017)

    Qimen Dunjia [The Thousand Faces of Dunjia] (2017)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, January 2020) I hadn’t seen a wuxia fantasy film in a while, and that probably explains why I enjoyed The Thousand Faces of Dunjia so much despite it being difficult to follow and overwhelmed by bad CGI rather than practical action. It certainly has good credentials from the get-go, what with writer-director Tsui Hark and director Yuen Woo-ping—and a potentially rich formula in hand in building a fantasy action film. If it works, it’s on energy and speed more than on wit and finesse: the story about an adventurer fighting magical monsters is simple enough to follow, but (maybe because of subtitles) the moment-to-moment continuity of the plot can be challenging at times. More troublesome are the film’s tonal issues oscillating between very serious fantasy drama and much goofier comedy gags. When it comes to the visual effects, it’s a bit of a mixed bag as well: while there’s something interesting in seeing opening credits and chapter titles integrated in the environment inhabited by the characters, most of the film’s CGI is bad to the point of looking like pre-visualization attempts rather than polished special effects. This being said, there is a lot of such CGI exuberance, and it does lend some energy to the result. The pacing of the film is uneven, but the wild imagination is there and so there’s something to see every five minutes, guaranteed. Plus, there’s Dongyu Zhou as Circle and Ni Ni as Dragonfly to keep things interesting. It’s regrettable that The Thousand Faces of Dunjia is not that good a martial arts film given the amount of CGI and monsters, but there are fights enough to fill the two hours of the movie. It may not be the best of that subgenre, but it’s entertaining enough to be satisfying.

  • Missing (1982)

    Missing (1982)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, January 2020) To anyone used to Jack Lemmon’s comic body of work, it can be jarring to see him at work in Missing, a film about as humourless as any can be. Here, Lemmon plays an American businessman travelling to Chile an unnamed country after a coup to investigate his son’s disappearance. He teams up with his son’s wife, but their relationship does not start harmoniously and it’s further tested as their investigations either produce no results, or lead them to darker and darker certainties. Eventually, writer-director Costa-Gavras, working from real events, accuses the US government of complicity in the coup and the numerous deaths that ensued. Missing is absolutely not a happy movie: the atmosphere of a post-coup authoritarian country is utterly nightmarish, and the central mystery at the heart of the film has a merciless resolution. Lemmon, as one could expect, is quite good in a much darker role than usual, channelling righteous anger as he portrays a father looking for his only child. Alongside him, Sissy Spacek is also quite good in a more difficult role designed to clash with the older man. (Both of them earnest Academy Awards nominations for their roles) Where Missing stumbles is in not focusing tightly on the story it wants to tell—Costa-Gravas is a bit too self-satisfied and goes on numerous tangents (the opening twenty minutes, for starters) that don’t necessarily improve the result. Still, Missing is a film with weight, anger, and a thick atmosphere you’ll yearn to escape.

  • Pulse (2006)

    Pulse (2006)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, January 2020) I like a lot of what Pulse attempts to do—namely, blend the technological with the supernatural and poke around at some of the fears of the information age. The dead possessing the living using technology—that’s still a great premise: someone should make a movie about it. Alas, Pulse aims for the lowest common horror movie denominator, and by that, I mean a teenage audience, with a by-the-numbers execution that barely scratches the potential of its premise. The good ideas (and a few good visuals) don’t last long, as the college-age characters run around screaming. Christina Milan does look great—but she’s only in the movie for a moment. Otherwise, Pulse is so conventional that it becomes boring considering the random scares: there’s no discipline to director Jim Sonzero’s approach. The mid-2000s patina of the film is obvious not only in the technology being used, but also the constant bathing of everything in blue light. Sure, Pulse can be worth a chuckle or two at the way it completely drowns the potential of its premise into generic horror clichés… but there are other better movies that should be watched before this one.

  • Village of the Damned (1995)

    Village of the Damned (1995)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On DVD, January 2020) If you’re a horror fan, the 1995 remake of Village of the Damned should be somewhere on your long list of things to see—if only to see how famed director John Carpenter would take on the task of modernizing the classic 1960 film. Predictably, the result is decent… while remaining quite a bit less than the original. Still, let’s recognize that Carpenter at least has the chops to make the film slightly more accessible than the sometimes-cold original, and that, from a distance of 25 years, the mid-1990s setting is fast becoming a period piece in its own right. The result can boast of an intriguing cast—Kirstie Alley is fine as a hard-driven scientist, and it’s fun to see both Christopher Reeves and Mark Hamill in roles away from the best-known characters. (As it happened, this was the last film that Reeves completed before the horse accident that left him paraplegic.) Carpenter fans will recognize this as middle-tier work from someone who had mastered horror directing at this point in his career—it’s suspenseful and atmospheric, but also slightly ridiculous and at times too gory (but not always). The rescue subplot at the very end is troublesome, considering that it messes with something that should not be messed with. Still, while it may not reach the heights of Carpenter’s best work, Village of the Damned is still a serviceable little chiller that can be watched easily—and it’s probably more interesting now than it was upon release.

  • Janghwa, Hongryeon [A Tale of Two Sisters] (2003)

    Janghwa, Hongryeon [A Tale of Two Sisters] (2003)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, January 2020) Arguably the breakthrough feature for South Korean writer-director Kim Jee-woon, A Tale of Two Sisters is a psychological thriller that feels completely at ease alongside much of the work from Jee-woon’s contemporaries. (Compare and contrast with Stoker and The Handmaiden, for instance.) It’s delicate, gruesome, violent, ambiguous, meditative and twisted. It takes place in a peaceful rural setting, but features spectacularly warped characters and an intricate backstory that is slowly teased then revealed throughout the third act. It’s a bit of gotcha-cinema (although made at a time when such things weren’t as much of clichés as they are now) and it seldom holds back for shock value, heralding some of the far more violent movies in Jee-woon’s later filmography. As a psychological thriller, it faithfully holds dear to the notion that there should be long stretches of silence in its first half, and plenty of screaming in the second—plus hallucinations and supernatural phenomena just to make things even more complicated. A Tale of Two Sisters is really not a bad movie, but viewers may have a hard time getting and staying interested—especially if you’re not a big fan of twisty psychological thrillers or, on the flip side, have seen too many of them already.

  • It’s Showtime (1976)

    It’s Showtime (1976)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2020) I suppose that It’s Showtime had to be made at some point in Hollywood history—a clip-show documentary of selected animal performances. Yup, that’s it—That’s Entertainment for your pets, mining Classic Hollywood for amusing bits. It’s all made of mostly short black-and-white film clips, interspaced with coloured intertitles. Don’t expect an explanation of how animals are made to perform on screen—the film is sparsely narrated to its detriment (some context would have been helpful), with the intent being strictly to amuse. If you’re not already amused, then the overbearing sound effects added to the clips will tell you when to laugh. It’s not all bad—the opening is a cute parody of Singin’ in the Rain (which makes the kinship with That’s Entertainment even more apparent) and some of the clips do remain impressive and/or cute enough to watch. But your appreciation will hinge at least partly on your tolerance for dressed-up dogs. The 1970s were a decade where many of these clip-show films were made as the declining studios looked at their vaults and riffled for the best bits. That’s Entertainment showed that there was some money there, but not all of its imitators were equally successful—such as It’s Showtime demonstrates.

  • Yao ling ling [Goldbuster] (2017)

    Yao ling ling [Goldbuster] (2017)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, January 2020) The profoundly silly Chinese comedy Goldbuster is a blend of capitalistic critique (in that the holdouts for a planned land development deal are scared by actors hired by the developer) and very broad comedy (in that the holdouts call for an exorcism). The result is amusing and not necessarily predictable in medium strokes—Sure, the underdogs will win, but who could see a zombie film emerging midway through? Sandra Ng directs and likably stars into a film that can blend special effects, slapstick physical comedy, mild social criticism, and plenty of goofiness. Goldbuster is not that good, but as a glimpse into the parallel universe of blockbuster films for a Chinese audience, it’s fun and accessible without being overbearing with propaganda or completely incomprehensible.

  • Ghost Ship (2002)

    Ghost Ship (2002)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On DVD, January 2020) As far as horror films go, Ghost Ship exceeds modest expectations in a few significant ways. For one thing, it does start with a memorable sequence in which a snapped cable kills all the adults on an ocean liner dance floor. After that, we time skip and get a classic horror premise in slightly different clothes, as a salvage crew boards an old abandoned ship, then experiences numerous supernatural incidents. It’s all good genre fun all the way to the ending, which provides both an expiation and a stinger in quick succession. Director Steve Beck handles everything efficiently, with the highlight being a great exposition sequence three-quarter of the way through that takes place without dialogue. He’s also gifted with actors who understand the material they’re playing, with Julianna Margulies being a specific standout. The gore could have been turned down, though—the film has enough other things going on. Ghost Ship is not, to be clear, a great movie—but like a lot of perfectly decent genre films, it can be watched twenty years later with no big expectations and a sense of satisfaction when it delivers what it aims to.

  • Libeled Lady (1936)

    Libeled Lady (1936)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2020) If someone tells you that Libeled Lady is one of the top comedies of the 1930s, believe them—there aren’t many better ones. Firmly ensconced in the screwball subgenre, this is a film that plays into the whole weddings-don’t-mean-much (but they do!), harebrained-schemes-are-better-than-honesty, let’s-see-who’s-the-craziest ethos of those kinds of films. The cast alone is a solid treat, what with the legendary William Powell/Myrna Loy screen duo, bonified with Jean Harlow (who was romantically involved with Powell at the time, adding another layer of interest) and a dark-haired Spencer Tracy to round off the main cast. Everything takes place in a gloriously escapist Manhattan upper-class society setting (with a bit of newspaper journalism thrown in) where people have no better things to do than to pursue demented schemes, maintain misunderstandings and riff off quips at each other. It’s a hugely enjoyable film [April 2024: And one that appreciates upon subsequent viewings] because director Jack Conway’s execution is so smooth, not to mention the acting—Powell being Powell, his line delivery is perfect, but every main player has three other gifted comedians to play with, and the result is a small triumph. Even the outdated period detail becomes charming or at least easy to forgive. (There’s a bit of casual racism at the very beginning of the film, but it’s early, quick and more annoying than insulting.) The cavalcade of last-minute twists that serve as resolution is part of the joke: having no reasonable way to untangle the plot, the writers added more things and called it quits while daring anyone to say anything about it. Libeled Lady was, upon release, a box-office hit and an Academy Awards Best Picture nominee. It’s still a marvel even today—easily worth a watch.

  • Broadway Melody of 1940 (1940)

    Broadway Melody of 1940 (1940)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2020) The Broadway Melody series goes out with a bang in the fourth and final instalment Broadway Melody of 1940. If you want to talk about individual films leaving a legacy, consider that this is the only on-screen pairing of two of the era’s greatest dancers at the height of their powers—Fred Astaire in fine youthful form, and the equally-impressive tap-dancing sensation Eleanor Russell. They share two dancing numbers, and they are both terrific: the first number is loose, flirty and fun, while the second is polished (musically and visually) and carefully controlled. Other delights abound; the film gets started on a strong note with a dual-tap dancing sequence featuring Astaire and George Murphy. Then there’s a fun ball-balancing act. The nautical stage number is a prowess of set design. The Broadway-themed plot shows up just enough to string along the dancer numbers, and that’s all we need. Movie musicals historians will tell you that this was Powell’s last major film, the first of Astaire’s second MGM contract, and the last big black-and-white musical from MGM. But what’s important is that Broadway Melody of 1940 captures some incredible performances and can still be watched with great interest eighty years later. Now that’s a legacy!