Movie Review

  • 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.

  • Single White Female (1992)

    Single White Female (1992)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, November 2019) Calling a film influential is not the same as calling it good. At face value, especially when seen today, Single White Female is clearly not that successful: Ludicrous plotting, incredibly familiar plot elements, undercooked direction and an execution that seems to squander the possibilities of its high-concept premise through obvious choices. But this is nearly thirty years later, and the very qualities that made Single White Female a bit of a sleeper hit have been absorbed and endlessly repeated by a certain strain of cinema. What was novel at the time (a female-focused domestic thriller featuring a “roommate from hell,” directed by a woman, featuring two up-and-coming female leads) has become more commonplace. The premise was so compelling that it led to many, many imitators—a good chunk of made-for-Lifetime thrillers (not to mention BET original movies) veers very close to Single White Female. Watching it today is like going to the fountain from which those imitators have drunk. You won’t be surprised to see that it’s somewhat more thematically deep than surface imitations, or that some narrative beats are clunky when they are compared to later streamlined imitators. It’s clearly a B-movie, but both Bridget Fonda and Jennifer Jason Leigh (both of which have had decent careers in the years following their presence here) do well in the lead roles, as director Barbet Schroeder keeps the potboiler going. While much of the plot mechanics play about as well today as they did, the film is clearly stamped with its early-1990s by its portrayal of computer technology at the time, including an early use of the Internet. Single White Female is not a great movie and its imitators have made it far less distinctive, but it’s watchable enough today—especially as an example of female-produced thriller at a time when such things were much less common.

  • The Life of Emile Zola (1937)

    The Life of Emile Zola (1937)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (YouTube Streaming, November 2019) I wasn’t necessarily looking forward to The Life of Emile Zola, expecting an average 1930s biopic, but that was without counting on Paul Muni’s take on Zola, and the lively indignation of the script as it focuses on l’affaire Dreyfus. It helps that this presentation of Zola portrays the French writer as a crusader fighting for justice, and that the Dreyfus story becomes a high-stakes political scandal that touches upon the corruption of the French elite. Still, there’s only so much you can do with a good premise, and so the film does quite well on execution, with a sharp script that’s not above rearranging facts for dramatic impact (or portraying an exile as heroic) and Muni’s superlative performance at a time when Muni was one of the reigning actors in Hollywood. Looking up additional details about the Dreyfus affair and Zola’s role in it, I was disappointed that the entire Jewish angle of the original scandal was completely excised from the movie … and that the tidiness of the tragic conclusion is a fabrication. Still, the film itself is largely exact in portraying the monstrous injustice that Zola contested, and very entertaining in depicting Zola himself. It all amounts to a capable early example of Hollywood firing on all cylinders—The Life of Emile Zola was the first film nominated for ten Oscars, and walked away with three Awards, including Best Picture. It’s probably one of the early Best Picture winners that has aged best.

  • The Front Page (1931)

    The Front Page (1931)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2019) One of the reasons why Hollywood keeps remaking films is that in the best-case scenario, you don’t just have a decent commercial product with built-in brand recognition—you get a new classic that completely replaces the original. In theory, this can happen more easily because the remake can take a look at the original and improve upon its weaknesses. This is certainly not a new thing—Hollywood has been in the remake game since the silent era, and there was a particularly high number of remakes in the 1930 as the studios “upgraded” their silent films to more popular talkies. But I’m blurring lines, here, because if the 1931 version of The Front Page is an adaptation from a Broadway play (one co-written by Ben Hecht, who would become one of Hollywood’s first famous screenwriters), it’s not a remake. On the other hand, it was remade three times, and the first of them—1940’s His Girl Friday—has become an all-time classic eclipsing the 1931 original. (Meanwhile, the 1974 remake of the same name featuring Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau is a pleasant but not essential diversion, while 1988’s Switching Channel is all but forgotten today.)  Where I’m going with this epoch-spanning consideration of remakes is that considering the existence of His Girl Friday (the best take on the story) and the 1974 version (the most accessible one to modern audiences), only die-hard film historians or curious cinephiles have any reason to go back to the 1931 original. And yet: Had it never been remade, The Front Page would still be remembered as a funny screwball take on the tough-and-tumble world of print journalists at the turn of the 1930s, almost breathtaking in its Pre-Code cynicism. The technical qualities of the film are a bit rough, while Adolphe Menjou and Pat O’Brien are merely fine as the protagonists. It’s not a bad movie! But when put against His Girl Friday, it’s clear that director Lewis Milestone is not working in the same world-class league as Howard Hawks did in his remake, nor are the actors as crackling as they were in the remake. The film will forever work in the shadow of its successor—part of the proof being that the easier way to purchase the film today in its best quality is as an extra in the Criterion Edition of His Girl Friday. Sure, have a look if you’re already familiar with the other films … but see the other ones first if you haven’t.

  • Twelve O’Clock High (1949)

    Twelve O’Clock High (1949)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, November 2019) By the late 1940s, war movies had changed—it wasn’t necessary to produce propaganda pieces any more, so the way was open for filmmakers to take a somewhat more balanced look at the war. At the same time, there were plenty of hardware lying around and veterans of the war to ensure authenticity, and an audience with vivid memories of the events portrayed on-screen. Accordingly, Twelve O’Clock High is not the kind of war-hurrah films that would have been produced during the war, nor the war-is-hell antipropaganda that would emerge from the 1970s.  It’s a sober-minded film that takes a look at American aviators stationed in England and running bombing missions against Germany—with a clear emphasis on the logistics and the people-management aspect of running airborne warfare. Much stock footage (from both sides of the war) is used to complement the original material, although that material famously includes a shot of a bomber deliberately crashing. (The stunt pilot survived as planned.)  Twelve O’Clock High is a film that spends a surprising amount of time on the ground before getting up in the air: The focus here is on the tension of the group effort as entire crews never come back, as the war drags on and on, and as bomber crews are often easy pickings for nimble fighter pilots if not escorted. There’s a unique blend of period attitude, production means, lived experiences and filmmaking skill (having Gregory Peck in a lead role helps) that helps makes the film feel credible—indeed, it got top marks from real American aviators regarding its authenticity upon release and was long featured in US military training. That realism, and slightly off-combat focus still makes Twelve O’Clock High worth a watch even if you think you’ve seen most of what WW2 aviation movies have to offer.

  • Rio Grande (1950)

    Rio Grande (1950)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, November 2019) I’m cooler than other reviewers on John Ford Westerns and John Wayne as a lead, so I wasn’t expecting much of Rio Grande … and those low expectations worked in the film’s favour. As it starts, we meet a typical Wayne protagonist (actually, the same one as in Fort Apache): a commanding officer in a faraway posting, competent and living as unremarkable a life as possible in those circumstances. But then two new characters walk in: First, his long-estranged son joins the post as a recruit sent from the East, leading to a reunion that is less emotional and more along the lines of no favouritism being tolerated. Then, to complicate everything in between the enemy attacks and peacekeeping role, his estranged wife (Maureen O’Hara, about a third less spectacular without the red hair in a black-and-white film) also walks in, demanding that her son be bought from military service. (And, um, also discuss how her plantation was burnt down by her husband’s men.)  Those familial complications do bring a lot to Rio Grande, and offer a slightly more unusual aspect to this western that the typical frontier genocide material. Because, of course, the hordes of Native Americans are out to kill everyone in this film—your average mid-century western was still horribly racist and Rio Grande doesn’t really deviate from that orthodoxy.  It certainly works better if you can ignore that aspect, but I’ll completely understand if you can’t, especially as the film’s later heroics all focus on killing as many undistinguished nonwhites as possible. This fairly important caveat does explain why Rio Grande is far more interesting today when it deals with tensions between a family and the military life. To be clear, it’s a slickly made Western by the standards of the time, but it’s not groundbreaking, nor does it offer anything spectacular from either Wayne, O’Hara or director John Ford. At times, especially when coupled with Ford’s two other “Cavalry” films—Fort Apache and She Wore a Yellow Ribbon—it often feels like another episode in a longer-running series. But it’s more interesting than I thought, and any movie that manages to overcome my overall dislike of John Wayne has to be complimented for it.

  • Separate Tables (1958)

    Separate Tables (1958)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2019) It’s interesting how various genres of film age well (or not) due to different factors. Something often underestimated is thespian intensity, especially in those movies designed to be actor showcases. Separate Tables starts from strong dramatic material, being adapted from a pair of short theatre plays. This is most clearly seen in the strong dramatic unity of the result, taking place over a few days in a secluded hotel where two pairs of guests have largely separate subplots. On one side, a man (a typically intense Burt Lancaster) has to pick between his nice new girlfriend and his shrewish ex-wife (Rita Hayworth, glammed up to the point where she can be mistaken for Grace Kelly). The dialogue pyrotechnics here occasionally suggests Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolfe?, with a conclusion that may surprise you. On the other main subplot, an officer with a mystery past (David Niven, up to his high standards) beguiles a spinster (Deborah Kerr, strongly de-glammed) trying to get away from the influence of her mother. The addition of a bit of romantic comic relief between two young lovers helps ease into the film before the dramatic intensity starts. Under Delbert Mann’s direction, the film benefits from clean images, unobtrusive direction and full leeway for actors to deliver on the material. The result was nominated for nine Academy Awards (including Best Picture) and won two acting awards. Clearly, this showcase certainly worked, and it helps Separate Tables to be worth a look even today.

  • Ivanhoe (1952)

    Ivanhoe (1952)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2019) Technicolor-era historical Hollywood adventures don’t get any more exemplary than Ivanhoe, what with a 19th-century novel being loosely adapted into a Technicolor swashbuckler. It has more than its share of issues, especially from a contemporary perspective, but it also has quite a bit of charm. Robert Taylor and Joan Fontaine may star as the lead couple, but modern viewers may be forgiven for only having eyes for Elizabeth Taylor in an early yet striking supporting role. George Sanders is also up to his usual standards playing a villain. Otherwise, the rest of the film is a succession of sex appeal, sword fights, medieval jousts, and arena combat as a climactic bow. Ivanhoe is not to be trusted as a historical document, but it’s not a bad way to spend nearly two hours—the film is easy to take in, the hero is interesting (even a bit devious in his combat style), Taylor is luminous and it all builds to an effective action sequence in a film that has a few of them. As a competent Hollywood rendition of medieval adventure, Ivanhoe was nominated for three Academy Awards back then (including Best Picture) and you can see why it was both a commercial and critical success. This less-usual take on the Robin Hood legend is quite intentional, and it prefigures other films in that vein.

  • Little (2019)

    Little (2019)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2019) Not every movie has to be great to be successful, but it certainly helps if it’s consistent. Little does have quite a few good moments, but almost as many bad ones, accompanied with a side order of several disconnected self-indulgent sequences that don’t do much but let the actors mess around and pad the running time of this comedy to nearly two hours. A somewhat clever take on the body-swap premise, it features a hard-driving tech business executive magically transformed into her own 13-year-old body, and being forced back into school as nobody quite knows how to deal with the sudden appearance of a kid in her own apartment and job. Practically nothing is explained about the transformation except for narrative logic in how to ensure the protagonist’s redemption arc. Unfortunately, there’s a difference between not explaining the premise and cheating reality along the way—Little can be savvy and cutting in one scene, then lazy and cheap in the next. Of course, it’s no use wondering about the outcome of the film—that’s baked in from the start and the best thing to do along the way is to appreciate the performances. Here, at least, we’re on more familiar territory: Regina Hall makes a brief bookend impression as the adult protagonist, while Marsai Martin is a bit of a revelation in a role begging to be described as precocious, embodying the actions and dialogue of an older woman. Meanwhile, Issa Rae also does well in expanding the limits of the traditional “beleaguered personal assistant” role. The performances do much to compensate from some weak plot choices along the way, as the emotional growth of the lead character is wobbly and doesn’t quite reach the satisfaction level that could be expected.

  • Ein Unbekannter rechnet ab [Ten Little Indians aka And Then There Were None] (1974)

    Ein Unbekannter rechnet ab [Ten Little Indians aka And Then There Were None] (1974)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, November 2019) As murder mysteries go, And Then There Were None is one of the darkest ones and it remains one of Agatha Christie’s best-known novels. I first read it in high school, so it keeps that timeless aura that, paradoxically, makes its various film adaptations more interesting. In the case of this 1974 version (a multinational collaboration, but shot in English), the appeal here is in a very specific 1970s take on the material, not particularly faithful to the original text but interesting in its casting and audience-friendly choices. It’s obvious from the first few frames that it’s going to be a very 1970s kind of film—the fuzzy colour cinematography, the fashions of the day played up and the actors being a multinational bunch of then-celebrities. Take a look at that cast: Charles Aznavour, Elke Sommer, Gert Fröbe, Oliver Reed, Richard Attenborough and Orson Welles. But it’s in the changes to the story (many of them reprised from the 1965 version by the same producer) that the film ends up being most interesting. Dispensing with the traditional island location, this one ends up in the Iranian desert prior to the revolution—the impact still being isolation in the middle of nowhere. Thus transplanted in a sand ocean, the story largely goes about the same way until it hits its third act, at which point the plot is rejigged in most Hollywoodian fashion to allow for foiling the book’s entire plot and allowing some characters to survive the events of the film. As a Christie enthusiast, I suppose I should be aghast at the way the entire harsh point of the novel is softened into crow-pleasing pablum. But in the end, I’m not particularly bothered by the changes—I find them interesting in the way they alter the premise, and I’m never totally opposed to happy endings anyway. The original novel remains available for all to read if you want the real deal—and considering its enduring popularity either now or in the 1960s–1970s, there’s a fair case to be made that the filmmakers were able to give something new to audiences expecting a straight-up retelling of the book. Add to that the now-delicious patina of 1970s style and the 1974 version of Then There Were None remains worth a look.