Movie Review

  • Emma (1996)

    Emma (1996)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, November 2019) Travel back to an earlier, simpler time with Emma—no, not 19th-century England (although yes), but rather the mid-1990s when Austen adaptations were the rage, and Gwyneth Paltrow was a rising star rather than a woo-woo businesswoman. You can’t say that writer-director Douglas McGrath hopped on the Austen bandwagon when he helped build that bandwagon—and at this point, we’re now in the second generation of Austen remakes and so able to call the 1996 a source of inspiration for newer takes. Suffice to say that this one gets most things right—it sticks close to the material, benefits from a lavish costume budget, keeps things charming, and plays it straight. Re-interpretations would come in the same year (as Clueless) and in further films more eager to differentiate themselves. But if you’re looking for a straight-ahead take that remains faithful to the original novel, you can certainly do worse: Paltrow is quite likable, actors such as Ewan McGregor, Toni Collette and Alan Cumming all pop up in supporting roles, and McGrath puts everything together in competent fashion. There’s not a whole lot more to say about Emma, but sometimes that’s the charm of it.

  • Frozen II (2019)

    Frozen II (2019)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, In Theaters, November 2019) Considering the massive success of 2013’s Frozen, it’s almost inevitable that any sequel would be scrutinized, dismantled and ultimately judged as not as worthy as the first film. Which is not quite an outright dismissal considering that the original Frozen remains, despite its overexposure, exceptionally good. This sequel doesn’t have the element of surprise going for it—in fact, its plot mechanics (especially its conclusion) are coincidentally reminiscent of other recent animated movies. Still, as a follow-up, it’s decent enough: the integrity of the characters is preserved, the plot revelations smooth out some of the original’s rougher edges and there’s more than enough here to keep fans happy. Still, this sequel is, in a word, messier than the original. The plot doesn’t flow as smoothly, there are noticeable lulls in the first half and a few characters are blatantly sidelined during the second half. (“Oh, they’re already gone; you can’t catch up with them” is not a very good argument for a guy with a reindeer looking for two women on foot.)  The songs also don’t feel as catchy, although a definitive judgment about that will have to wait until the inevitable fourth and fifth viewings. Still, Disney’s standard these days are high enough that even a middling effort is still worth a look. In technical terms, the animation here is often nothing short of stunning, with practically photorealistic water effects, and plenty of opportunities for the animators to take advantage of the possibilities of the form with lighting effects and thousands of elements in each sequence. With its Nordic setting, maple leaf imagery and theme of reconciliation with the native population, Frozen II also feels especially Canadian, although that’s probably just a coincidence. Given the choice, I’d rather have Disney turn out new universes rather than sequels, but Frozen II is not a bad watch, and judging from the opinion of this household’s residence Frozen expert, it works even better with younger female audiences.

  • Xtro (1982)

    Xtro (1982)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, November 2019) I’d call Xtro a big bag of yuck, but a “bag” presupposes an arrangement of elements into a container and that’s an awfully generous description for a film without much of a coherent plot. Well, that’s not true: The plot of Xtro is quite simple and has to do with an alien killing humans. It’s what’s around the plot that scarcely makes sense, as we go from a standard monster movie plot (far more violent and gross than the 1950s ones, but not any more sophisticated) to a fever dream of homicidal life-sized action figures, homicidal toy tanks, homicidal cougars and homicidal … well, you get the point. The special effects are filled with goo, forced incubation, nightmarish vaginal imagery and other visuals designed to make you queasy. And if I must acknowledge any effectiveness to writer-director Harry Bromley Davenport’s mess, it’s in those nightmarish images, potent without being admirable. It’s all in the service of an intensely nihilistic, meaningless story, so don’t be surprised to hate Xtro even while acknowledging its visual strengths. I half-suspect that the film, like many 1980s horror movies, was more about freaking the mundanes (and pleasing the gore-hounds) than delivering a coherent story with something to say. You can see numerous lifts from the first Alien movie, for instance, and pushing the parasitic face-hugger cycle as far as anyone can stand. I still loathe the result, and I can’t imagine watching Xtro another time—it was bad enough that I fell asleep midwatch through and had to rewind to catch its demented second half. I shouldn’t have.

  • The Karate Kid Part III (1989)

    The Karate Kid Part III (1989)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, November 2019) It’s possible that one of the greatest skills a filmmaker can have is to recognize when they’re about to tell a useless story … and then not doing it. I have a feeling that The Karate Kid Part III would have been greeted better had it been the second instalment of the series, taking care of tying up loose ends from the first film rather than heading over to Okinawa right away. But that’s not what happened, and so this third instalment feels like going over already-explored territory as our protagonist once again faces the first film’s antagonist. It’s a return to home, but it’s also smaller, less meaningful and far less memorable than the second film. The dramatic subplots are intensely predictable, and the conclusion is never in doubt. Ralph Macchio and Pat Morita are still good as the lead pair, but the film around them has nowhere to go and seems as stunted as its featured bonsai trees. (Quite a bit of the weirdness around the film—the impossible timeline, the farming-out of the revenge plot to someone else—can be explained by lucrative intent and production constraints, but that’s not an excuse.) There’s not a whole lot more to say about The Karate Kid Part III because it’s such a slight film. In retrospect, they should have stopped after the second one.

  • Four Daughters (1938)

    Four Daughters (1938)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2019) It’s an exaggeration (perhaps blasphemy) to call out similarities between Four Daughters and Little Women, but both offer middle-American small-town drama involving sisters living in a house with a single parent (here: Claude Rains as the patriarch of a musical family), with suitors popping up and a story that plays over many years. Everything else is different, but from the 2010s all we see are stories with a similar feel. What’s distinctive here is that three of the four sisters were real-life sisters as well—the Lane sisters, who went on to play as a family in other films. But the highlight here is John Garfield as the young beau who sends the daughters aflutter, through some less successful suitors who come and go. Directed by Michael Curtiz, the film was regarded well enough to warrant an Academy Award nomination for best picture—but while it’s still reasonably good, it does feel a bit like a self-imposed ordeal if you’re trying to complete the Best Picture nominees marathon. There’s nothing wrong with Four Daughters—but if your mind wanders to find comparisons with Little Women, it may be because it’s not engaging enough by itself.

  • La belle et la bête [Beauty and the Beast] (1946)

    La belle et la bête [Beauty and the Beast] (1946)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2019) If you approach writer-director Jean Cocteau’s La belle et la bête expecting a rougher version of the Disney film … wow, you’re going to have an interesting time. Here he adapts the poetic realism trend of 1930s French cinema to the classic fairytale and the result feels as if it was captured from dreams—hazy, lyrical, nonsensical and yet with a logic of its own. The basic problems of the beauty and the beast fairytale are still very much present—the Stockholm syndrome, the ending that mocks the “ugliness is superficial” message—but executed in such a way that it’s easy to let the style triumph over substance. Which isn’t to say that La belle et la bête skirts its fantastic roots—the makeup of the beast remains deeply impressive, and the film doesn’t dance around the literalization of the metaphor. It’s often surprising, sometimes ethereal, and more compelling than you’d expect. Still, Cocteau overplays his hand and the film is easily a bit too long even at 96 minutes—there’s only so much setup you can tolerate before demanding some progress, after all. Still, this is one of the strongest 1940s French films (and it wasn’t a slough of a decade for French cinema)—still mesmerizing in its stated intention to deliver a true fairytale on the screen.

  • Dutch (1991)

    Dutch (1991)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, November 2019) It’s not hard to watch Dutch and wonder what screenwriter-producer John Hughes was thinking in putting together the story. As a buddy-comedy road movie on the eve of Thanksgiving, it clearly apes his own Planes, Trains and Automobiles. It does crank up the drama by featuring not two strangers brought together by circumstances, but a gruff construction man trying to bond with a bratty teenager who may become his step-son. At that point, the film could have gone anywhere as a zany farce or a manipulative offering … and it does. Meaning that we get people shot in the groin with a BB gun, plenty of crazy adventures, quite a bit of personal property destruction, and the heartwarming aw-they-really-love-each-other maudlin moments in the end. The tonal control isn’t there from one moment to another, and if Dutch hangs together, it’s thanks to Ed O’Neill doing his best in a role that asks him to be both a credible middle-aged man and a cartoonish butt of physical comedy. Intensely predictable in structure but chaotic in a scene-to-scene scope, Dutch should work in the end but doesn’t feel as if it has a middle.

  • The Invisible Man (1933)

    The Invisible Man (1933)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (archive.org streaming, November 2019) Compared to other inaugural titles from the classic Universal Monsters stable, it has proved surprisingly difficult to find a way to watch The Invisible Man—it doesn’t play and isn’t as available as the other monster movies. But there’s always a way, and I’m almost glad I waited a bit because it’s perhaps the film that strays furthest from what we expect from classic movie monsters. With Dracula, The Werewolf, the Mummy, the Creature from the Black Lagoon or Frankenstein, the story is the one you remember from other adaptations and the characters all have redeeming moments of humanity, restraint or compassion. But The Invisible Man is different: he’s certifiably a homicidal maniac, and that bonkers quality is honestly unnerving. Unlike the other monsters, this one doesn’t blink at causing mass death—invisibility has removed his moral compass, and that makes him far more dangerous than his contemporaries. (Accordingly, it may help explain why it’s a monster often skipped or entirely redefined by Halloween myth-making and other comic takes on the characters such as the Hotel Transylvania films—well, that and the lack of any visual identifiers, I suppose.) This 1933 original film doesn’t hold back when it’s necessary to clearly depict what a monster he is—as a Pre-Code production, the film becomes surprisingly intense at times and having Claude Rains in the main role is an undeniable asset even if only for his voice. (Then there’s a funny performance by Una O’Connor, who also shows up in the same director’s Bride of Frankenstein and exemplifies this film’s brand of dark comedy.)  Some good directing from James Whale and still-amazing special effects complete the package. If you think you don’t need to see The Invisible Man because you think you know (from the Wells novel, from later adaptations, from popular mythology) how it’s going to go or it’s going to be stale material from the 1930s—please reconsider: it turns out that Paul Verhoeven’s crazy-psycho take on The Hollow Man was a lot closer to the original than anyone remembered.

  • Die Abenteuer des Prinzen Achmed [The Adventures of Prince Achmed] (1926)

    Die Abenteuer des Prinzen Achmed [The Adventures of Prince Achmed] (1926)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Criterion Streaming, November 2019) Now here’s a fascinating discovery — The Adventures of Prince Achmed is known as the oldest surviving animated feature film, and it predates the more familiar Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs by a good eleven years. The animation style makes clever use of limited technical means by consisting of moving cardboard/lead sheets over an illuminated background—a technique that has a lot more to do with modern Flash animation than more traditional drawn techniques. The story is inspired by Arabic-influenced One Thousand and One Nights tales, proving that the association between animation and fantasy fairytales impossible to render in live-action is really not a new one. By accident or design, you can find similarities between this film and many successors, whether it’s Disney films like The Sword and the Stone (with a climactic battle between shapeshifting sorcerers), Aladdin (which explicitly pays homage to it through a “Prince Achmed” character) or newer use of silhouette-style animation in films such as Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1. It’s understandably rough as a movie considering the primitive means at writer-director Lotte Reiniger’s disposal, but the film is still beautiful, intricate and absorbing. It’s well worth tracking down—The Adventures of Prince Achmed hasn’t aged nearly as much as most other films from the 1920s.

  • The Most Dangerous Game (1932)

    The Most Dangerous Game (1932)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2019) At a mere 62 minutes, this early-sound adaptation of The Most Dangerous Game doesn’t have time to mess around—it’s about as effective a straight-ahead thriller as you could get during the Pre-Code era, and it certainly doesn’t overstay its welcome. (It could be nice to see a return to this “barely feature length” for appropriate works—not everything needs to be two hours!)  This is a film that goes all-in on the story, delivers what’s expected and leaves before any additional detail.  It’s easy to respect that dedication. The similarities to King Kong are not merely atmospheric to just any jungle island setting—it was filmed on the same set with some of the same actors—including Fay Wray. The xenophobia in making sure that the villain is “foreign” is annoying, but Joel McCrea is quite convincing in the lead character’s role. Otherwise, there isn’t much to say here—solid story, good execution, entertaining results. Worth a look, especially if you’re looking into the 1930s take on horror and high suspense.

  • Fired Up! (2009)

    Fired Up! (2009)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, November 2019) I wasn’t expecting much from Fired Up!, but a closer look at the credits reveals that this was writer-director Will Gluck’s first film—a year before the superlative Easy A. While this first film is not quite in the same league, it clearly announced Gluck’s brand of better-than-average dialogue, fast editing and genre awareness … even if the chosen genre is the dumb high-school sex comedy. The paper-thin plot has two football players applying to cheerleader school because girls, and pretty much the rest of the film goes as expected. It’s usually in the moment-to-moment dialogue and plot beats that the film is at its strongest, with Gluck’s film literacy being more obvious. The film is clearly in the 2000s Hollywood teen comedy mould, meaning that the actors are all comfortably college-aged (if not more) and several conventions are unavoidable. Still, the film works better than you’d think—an upbeat soundtrack enlivens a film filled with decent gags (and one nice Bring it On shout-out), likable actors and fast pacing. A decade later, Gluck’s career has been a bit disappointing for those who praised Easy A—Friends with Benefits also exceeded expectations, but Annie and Peter Rabbit were technically competent while not exceptional. Still, his penchant for fast pacing and comic dialogue still echoes even in Fired Up! Let’s hope he gets a suitable project soon.

  • The Terminal Man (1974)

    The Terminal Man (1974)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2019) Michael Crichton’s techno-thriller novel The Terminal Man may date from the prehistory of computers as a social force, but it’s still well worth reading for its breathless anticipation of issues that still preoccupy commentators nearly fifty years later. Its film adaptation, on the other hand … is something else. If you’re expecting a hard-edged exciting adaptation in the style of a realistic thriller, then get out now because writer-director-producer Mike Hodges is after something else entirely: an impressionistic, surreal, vague and slooow. In keeping with the prevailing New Hollywood aesthetics of the time, The Terminal Man is grimy and depressing, not having much to offer except death as a conclusion. It was, inevitably, a resounding flop upon release. It’s probably better regarded today in that the visual aspect of the film is quite strong, and we don’t necessarily bat an eye when 1970s films fly off in their own self-absorbed bubble. Some moments seem to share kinship with sequences of The Shining, but that may just be two visual filmmakers (who knew each other) working in parallel. Even star George Segal looks lost at times as the homicidal protagonist. As a piece of art-house visual exercise, The Terminal Man may be tolerable to some. As an adaptation of a novel with a strong narrative, however, it’s dull and underwritten.

  • Strategic Air Command (1955)

    Strategic Air Command (1955)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, November 2019) While it features a serviceable story about a baseball player who finds meaning in aerial service, you can argue that the real job of Strategic Air Command was in acting as of Cold War Propaganda about one of the newest and most crucial wings of the American military in the decade following World War II—its fleet of bombers making up a substantial portion of the nuclear deterrent force. James Stewart stars, as no one else would: Stewart famously served in the US Air Force during and after WW2, eventually attaining the rank of brigadier general in the Air Force Reserves by the end of the 1950s—becoming not only the highest-ranking actor in Hollywood history, but also a pilot on the B-52 bomber. He was, as the film’s production history attests, a driving force in its production—clearly influencing its tone as a propaganda piece and starring as the affable, amiable protagonist who sees a service tour becomes a career. For military aviation buffs, Strategic Air Command is a great document about the transition of the US bomber wings from propeller to jet-powered planes: the colour cinematography captures many period details, and the script is meant to be reasonably exact about the procedures and units it follows. It’s not a difficult film to watch: several amusing or suspenseful incidents help populate the story in between footage of planes in action. There’s an ineluctable sexism at play in the story (what with the dependent wife supporting her husband in his new career and ever-changing assignments) which is to be taken as a further illustration of the values in play at the time. Still, it’s hard to resist Stewart and the opportunity to see vintage footage of shiny old planes. Director Anthony Mann was clearly slumming here—the film has none of the interest of the westerns he also did with Stewart. But you can file this one as a favour for his friend Stewart—at least he keeps the film interesting to watch throughout, even if the material can be thin at times. There is a straight and bold connecting line between Strategic Air Command and Top Gun.

  • Mary Pickford: The Muse of the Movies (2008)

    Mary Pickford: The Muse of the Movies (2008)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2019) It’s never too late to go back and document the earliest days of Hollywood, as Mary Pickford: The Muse of the Movies shows with a hagiography dedicated to one of the foremost actresses of the silent and early-talkie era. Considering the slight footprint that Pickford left in the sound era, it’s easy to overlook her star status throughout the 1910s and the 1920s—she was very much the first fan favourite, the first movie star. But it’s what happened after her screen acting retirement that’s perhaps more interesting, as she moved into the production side of movies and helped create United Artists, becoming the first movie studio executive along the way. All of this (and more) is brought forth through talking heads, restored archival footage of the film and cleaned-up audio of various interviews given throughout her life. The Muse of the Movies is, in keeping with most movie biographies, clearly a hagiography of sorts: Pickford doesn’t make bad decisions in this film, and it’s entirely dedicated to the creation of a portrait of Pickford as a film pioneer, nuance forgotten along the way. Still, even knowing this, there’s a lot to like here about someone often forgotten in modern times.

  • The Cutting Edge (1992)

    The Cutting Edge (1992)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, November 2019) Modern studio filmmaking is all about attracting as many audience quadrants (young/old, male/female) as possible, so you can see the attraction in The Cutting Edge pairing up a hockey player with a delicate figure skater to form a skating duet. It allows for some ballet fantasy, underdog formula and mismatched romance along the way. Mechanical in intention, it ends up potable largely due to decent execution. Screenwriting buffs will recognize Tony Gilroy as having penned the script (his first screen credit), which makes for a very, very off-persona debut for someone best known for thrillers both cerebral and muscular. But maybe the credit should go to director Paul Michael Glaser, as he overuses slow-motion shots and keeps some romantic tension going on between the characters played by D. B. Sweeney and Moira Kelly. The skating footage is decent and well integrated—there’s clearly some creative cutting going on to make both actors look like Olympics-level skaters, but it’s not too distracting. The fun is largely in the interludes off the ice anyway, as our two mismatched leads gradually fall for each other. Everything here is familiar and predictable, but it’s executed with a decent pacing and adequate means. Audiences with more affection for figure skating will certainly rank The Cutting Edge higher.