Movie Review

  • Deceived (1991)

    Deceived (1991)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, October 2021) Sometimes, casting is not about putting familiar actors in familiar roles, but having them play against type and bring something new to a formula. Seeing Goldie Hawn in an unusually dramatic role in Deceived is more interesting than many other casting decisions, for instance. It certainly helps bring some interest into a twisty suspense that nonetheless feels very familiar: a wife discovering that her loving husband is someone else, living a double and even triple life unbeknownst to her inattentive self. There is, despite the familiar elements, a solid core of mystery at the heart of the film that does get it going once past the lovey-dovey depiction of a perfect couple perfectly in perfect love. We know that these things don’t last long in thrillers, and before long the husband is dead (?), his identity is questioned, his new family revealed aaand he pops up again as a born-again psychopath. That’s the way such films go, and seeing Hawn dealing with this in a rare non-comic role is part of the fun. Still, Deceived manages to be both familiar and nonsensical—the over-the-top ending burning up much of the accumulated goodwill gathered so far. Not a terrible viewing experience, but ultimately a disappointing one—but the ride in getting there is not without its own fun.

  • The Curse of Frankenstein (1957)

    The Curse of Frankenstein (1957)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, October 2021) I’m a latecomer to the Hammer renaissance of the classic Universal Monsters, but I’m slowly getting there. For those who are following me in this path: Universal had an amazing series of successes in the early 1930s, creating at least five of the classic movie monsters (Dracula, Frankenstein, Wolfman, The Mummy and The Invisible Man, with an honourable mention to the Creature of the Black Lagoon) that still dominate Halloween iconography even today. That success largely waned throughout the 1940s, with parodies and insipid sequels being mere echoes of the originals. But by the late 1950s, British studio Hammer had similar success re-creating four of those monsters (Dracula, Frankenstein, Wolfman and The Mummy) in glorious Technicolor and with some of the best possible actors in those roles—specifically Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing—for a lengthy series of films that not only re-created the originals for a new generation, but went far in their own direction. All of this began in 1957 with The Curse of Frankenstein, which spun the classic monster closer to its literary origins, focusing on Doctor Frankenstein more than its creature. The result still feels fresh today — less well-known than the first two Universal monster movies, but interesting in its own way. Cushing is quite good as the mad Doctor Frankenstein (with Lee as the monster), and the production values have a nice period sheen to them. After nibbling at some of the Hammer horror films over the past year, I’m stuck wishing that there was a Blu-ray box-set as nice as the Universal one so that I could dive into the extended series serially and see how it developed over time. (Yes, I know about the Mills Creek collection—but it doesn’t have everything.)

  • Footsteps in the Dark (1941)

    Footsteps in the Dark (1941)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, October 2021) For a 96-minute comic murder mystery starring Errol Flynn as an accountant moonlighting as a mystery novelist and then an amateur sleuth, Footsteps in the Dark can be curiously laborious. The initial revelation of the protagonist’s hidden identities, which should have been a slam-dunk of comedy, falls rather flat… and that’s only a harbinger of the gracelessness to come. What has the potential to become a crackerjack comic movie ends up being clunky and inexplicably inert. It could have been a sort of Thin Man origin story, as the wife of the protagonist suspects the worst and discovers a mere amateur detective rather than a wayward husband. But the mixture is wrong—wife and husband take too long to trust each other and never manage to work as a team long enough to be interesting. Flynn looks amused (this was a rare contemporary piece after so many swashbucklers) but this amusement doesn’t translate into viewing fun due to the misguided script. Oh, there are a few good moments along the way… but they feel too rare and spaced apart rather than reinforce the full premise of the film. In a way, I was due for a film like Footsteps in the Dark—as I move past the classics and solid hits of Classic Hollywood that have aged well in the modern era, I’m going to encounter more and more disappointments… much like the audiences of the time.

  • A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master (1988)

    A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master (1988)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Blu-Ray, October 2021) Annoying in concept and somewhat better in execution, A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master benefits from having Renny Harlin in the director’s chair. In what ended up being his breakthrough American film, Harlin here shows some flair in setting up the scares, with better-than-expected cinematography, effective special effects (for the late 1980s, of course) and decent pacing. The surreal imagery that distinguishes the series is once again a reason to watch it over more ordinary slasher films of the period, and so are the actresses. (Lisa Wilcox does surprisingly well as the heroine, but I was just sad when Toy Newkirk’s character left the film.) Where I’m not so happy with The Dream Master is in its overall plot, which brings back characters from previous films only to kill them, with this endless parade of kills only reinforcing the arbitrary nature of the series’ plotting. To that we can add the kiddification of Freddy Krueger in an annoying quip-spouting sort-of-protagonist, neutralizing the dread that the character was supposed to cause. But four instalments in—what were we expecting? It’s a minor miracle already that the direction is decent and the visual style still raises the level of the series’ nightmarish imagery. (That insect transformation sequence… yuck.)  The Dream Master is still worth watching if you’re this deep into the series and know what quirks to expect, but I suspect it won’t make many new fans.

  • Boo! A Madea Halloween (2016)

    Boo! A Madea Halloween (2016)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, October 2021) No one can make a case that Boo: A Madea Halloween is a particularly good movie. Even in writer-director-producer Tyler Perry’s filmography, it’s a bit clunky, far-fetched, obvious and trite. But I nonetheless found it fascinating—it manages to have a Halloween comedy for an adult audience without supernatural or overly violent elements in the end. It plays to a small-c-conservative crowd, but skirts the edges of having a comedy set-piece set in a church, and reinforces family values in its conclusion after going through a tough-love phase. Perry himself plays three roles, two of them the thesis/antithesis of what familial love means for the teenage protagonist of the film. Dismissing Perry’s films is easy, but they end up being fascinating in their own way. If Boo: A Madea Halloween feels slapdash and basic at times, it’s explained by an astonishing 6-day shooting schedule—that’s not a lot of time to finesse details, let along build some visual interest along the way or whittle down the film to its core. As Madea, Perry is not bad—and there are plenty of comedic curveballs to distract from some obvious messaging about fatherly love and protection. (It’s refreshing, in a way, to see the college-age party animals react rationally when they discover that the heroines are underage—the girls suddenly become as if radioactive to the fratboys, and that’s a clear sign that the film is not going to go there.)  It’s unfortunate that Perry’s writing can be lazy, or that the tone of the film goes everywhere without control. Of course, at this point in my exploration of Perry’s filmography, I’m essentially a convinced fan—not necessarily a member of his core audience, but someone who’s quite willing to play along.

  • Far from Home (2014)

    Far from Home (2014)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, October 2021) The premise of Far from Home ought to feel familiar: “Prodigal child returns to their hometown where they discover the meaning of their lives, and romance along the way” is the ur-plot of Lifetime/Hallmark made-for-TV movies, and the only halfway interesting thing about this film is how it goes for a male protagonist. (The formula is usually told from a female perspective.)  Our protagonist is a bitter failed writer—there’s not much tying him to the city except his initial obstinacy and overall attitude. Back on familiar grounds, he discovers that he has inherited his uncle’s town newspaper, and that the local lawyer showing him around is curiously interested in him. His resistance to the village’s insistence on claiming him as a native son predictably fades away in time for the climax, with a little bit of an evil-developer subplot and lightning-fast romance to spice it up. This is comforting filmmaking—there aren’t that many difficult conflicts, everything is neatly wrapped up in the end, and the British Columbia mountain scenery is used to good effect. As with other made-for-TV romantic comedies, this genre offering aims to deliver exactly what is expected of it. The protagonist is perhaps a bit too dour for his own good at first, but we all know where it’s headed. There is (as is often the case with made-for-TV movies) a thorough and rather funny romanticization of what fiction writers do, but Far from Home does have its charm and isn’t a waste of time, despite slow pacing and obvious plotting: director Michael M. Scott hit his targets and leave a good impression.

  • Sacrifice (2019)

    Sacrifice (2019)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, October 2021) Star power, sex-appeal, likability… call it what you want, but such a thing can matter a lot in compensating for an otherwise disappointing film. I would watch Paula Patton in just about anything, and so she’s one of the few things keeping me from calling BET+ Original film Sacrifice a complete miss. Here she plays a high-powered entertainment lawyer who, rather than do dull stuff like negotiating contracts and taking care of intellectual rights tangles, uses shady methods to investigate crimes and fight the local District Attorney on behalf of her rather loathsome clients. There’s a uniquely BET sensibility to the premise, blending flashy entertainment bling (all of her clients are music people—nothing so mundane as a writer or non-hyphenate actor) and the narrative assets of someone who can fight crime. Or condone it, as the film’s fuzzy morality suggests. If that sounds like an ideal premise for a Ray Donovan-like TV series, then you’ll understand my growing dismay as the film heads for a non-conclusive ending as if it was a TV pilot, because it is, and to a degree rarely seen in publicly aired pilots. Interesting characters are introduced, plot lines are set in motion, the dramatic redemption arc is barely sketched (let alone begun), an innocent killed, an overarching mystery set up… and then the film ends at a funeral, with opposite personalities hissing at each other while outlining the moral stakes of the series. Designed to hook viewers into a series that, as of one year after the announcement, was theoretically approved but never put in production due to the pandemic, Sacrifice is probably avoided until the follow-up series materializes [November 2021: Which it did!], or unless your crush on Patton is strong enough. Uninspired direction and some clunky dialogue don’t help. The unfinished narrative business also gives a very odd morality to the standalone result: The protagonist is set up as having many long-term issues (murdered dad, promiscuousness, shady morals) that are designed to be untangled and resolved over a long period of time, but just make her feel like an unlikable villain—even when she sororially tangles with a bullheaded DA that, from an objective perspective, should be the person we should cheer for. Liking Patton (and the extravagant outfits she gets in every scene) helps a lot, but she’s a beautiful actress who needs to be firmly directed to break out of her emotionless delivery, and I don’t think that writer-director Chris Stokes was able to do that: whether it’s a quirk of character or the actress herself, her flat blank-face line reading is not nearly effective enough. I did like many of the supporting characters, though—Erica Ash frequently rolls over Patton as the hard-charging DA, Veronika Boseman is captivating in a supporting role and there’s a good geekish character that feels like an ensemble dark horse. You can see where a series would go with those elements, but that presupposes that a series would be there to provide character development and dramatic resolution. Right now, though—none of that is available. Some pilots are developed without resolution… but they’re never shown publicly without the rest of the series, and that’s probably what should have happened with Sacrifice.

  • Sorry, Wrong Number (1948)

    Sorry, Wrong Number (1948)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, October 2021) It took me too long to warm up to Barbara Stanwyck as an actress (as opposed to a collection of great performances) but now that I have, nearly every film in which she’s involved is worth at least a first look and sometimes a second. In Sorry, Wrong Number, she has the advantage of being paired up with Burt Lancaster in one of his first roles, playing against this leading-man good looks. Both are well-known actors born only six years apart, but they are not often associated with the same period in film history (her: 1930-40s; him: 1950s-60s), so it’s interesting to see that pairing on-screen, toward the end of Stanwyck’s glory days and the very beginning of Lancaster’s rise. Sorry, Wrong Number’s other two assets are a devilishly effective premise (an invalid woman hearing her own murder plotted on a phone) and an utterly merciless ending that still manages to shock decades later. In-between those highlights, however, the film can occasionally drag—In an effort to expand the original theatrical story into feature-film length, this adaptation includes flashbacks explaining everything about the characters and where they’re coming from. Some of it is effective, some feels like padding even at a total length of 89 minutes. Stanwyck is effective as always (she was nominated for an Oscar for the performance), while Lancaster feels almost subdued in a shifty role. There’s a good reason why Sorry, Wrong Number remains a film noir landmark—the fatality of its last third weighs heavily in a movie that does not reach for a preposterous happy ending. Not bad—but you may want to watch something cheerier afterwards.

  • The Importance of Being Earnest (1952)

    The Importance of Being Earnest (1952)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, October 2021) Anything signed Oscar Wilde (even in adaptation) is worth a listen for the quality of its dialogue and The Importance of Being Earnest does not disappoint there, with clever wordplay, florid answers, witty repartee and other comic devices not necessarily aimed at the lower possible common denominator. While I do like the 2002 version better in general terms, this earlier take has the writing quality required to stay interesting, and generally does justice to the source material. So closely does it present the theatrical piece to film that it feels impossible to praise or criticize the film on its own basis—we always return to the original text to talk about the way it satirizes Victorian themes that prove timeless. Writer-director Anthony Asquith gets the pieces moving, and the actors do well with their material, although Edith Evans clearly takes the role one notch higher through sheer delivery. In the end, The Importance of Being Earnest works well enough—I would still recommend the later version, but this first take is still very watchable as a farce with a distinctly mid-century British execution over its 1890s material.

  • The Cincinnati Kid (1965)

    The Cincinnati Kid (1965)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, October 2021) My disadvantage in watching poker movies is that (and hush, because this passes for a dishonourable secret), I don’t really understand poker. Not being a gambler nor having any poker-playing friends to entertain, I get the basics of the game and some of the better hands, but don’t ask me to explain the finer details of the game. And yet, the paradox is that I generally like poker movies: you don’t have to know exact odds to be fascinated by bluffs and high stakes. It helps that The Cincinnati Kid has plenty to offer even to non-poker players: Steve MacQueen in fine roguish form as a hotshot player about to rub shoulders with the best; Ann-Margret as a seducer; Edward G. Robinson in a great late-career performance as a notorious card shark; a rather convincing portrayal of New Orleans’ atmosphere. The period detail is interesting as well, but it quickly fades into the background once the cards are dealt and we’re back with the timeless high stakes of romance, cheating, deception and showmanship. Classic Hollywood legend Joan Blondell shows up in a small but memorable role, while director Norman Jewison marks this film as the one that broke him out of light comedies into the unpredictable blend of genres that marked the rest of his career. The similarities with the near-contemporary The Hustler are numerous, but despite knowing a lot more about pool than poker, I like The Cincinnati Kid best: the colourful cinematography is more appealing, MacQueen outdoes Newman in this specific case, and the ending seems gutsier and more meaningful as well. While not as compelling or steadily entertaining as other similar films, The Cincinnati Kid has nonetheless aged rather well, and remains accessible even to those who can’t quite distinguish their flushes from their suits.

  • Enemy Mine (1985)

    Enemy Mine (1985)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Second Viewing, October 2021) I’m not sure I can plausibly claim to have seen Enemy Mine before—it’s familiar enough (even if I discount having read Barry Longyear’s original short story) that I must have seen at least bits and pieces of it in the early 1990s, but most of the film felt new enough. What’s perhaps most remarkable about it (and can be traced back straight to its literary origin) is how much of the film plays as an intimate drama between sworn enemy warriors (a human and an alien) stuck together on an inhospitable planet, learning to trust each other and eventually having one care for the child of the other. That’s unusually mature material for 1980s Science Fiction films, and despite this leading to a deliberately slow-paced film, it does present something that hasn’t often been attempted in the framework of a military SF film. Having director Wolfgang Petersen does much to ground the film in realism despite now-quaint special effects (although used more effectively than many films of the time). Of course, this admiration has its limits: Enemy Mine’s third act is an abrupt return to familiar bellicose clichés, tried formula and sappy moments. Most sources are clear on this being due to studio interference—never quite trusting the audience to be satisfied by maturity, they had to go for a conventional conclusion. I’m not going to argue that Enemy Mine is a great movie even if you lop off the third act: the dialogue can be blunt to the point of embarrassment, and the production values now feel too creaky to be enjoyed as nothing but an approximation of realism. But, even with the slow pacing taken into account, Enemy Mine does try, at least for an hour or so, to do something unusual for the time and still too rare today. It’s an admirable paean to peace and understanding between different races, and a somewhat atypical SF film even now. At least if you lop off that last act.

  • Police Academy 3: Back in Training (1986)

    Police Academy 3: Back in Training (1986)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Second or Third Viewing, October 2021) I’ll avoid expounding again how I once thought the Police Academy movies were the funniest thing ever as a 12-year-old — time moves on, and I finally get why it has received such bad reviews ever since its release. But at least this third instalment, featuring a “back to school” scenario for many of the characters being asked to help train another batch of recruits, is a step above the terrible second film. Oh, Police Academy 3: Back in Training has its problems: The jokes often scrape the bottom of the comedy barrel, there are far too many characters to do them justice, and the script is often laborious in how it sets up the jokes long enough to see them coming. But its anarchy can work in its favour: if you’re not happy with a character and their associated humour, just wait and there will be something else twenty seconds later. There’s also the fun of seeing mid-1980s Toronto being used very obviously (in a pre-CGI age) as a film backdrop—the skyline, TD bank, Younge Street address and Toronto Sun newspaper boxes being part of your “Toronto references” bingo card. I chuckled a few times (sometimes out of nothing but recognition at moments long forgotten) at Police Academy 3: Back in Training and that’s about all I could hope from a film that never aimed high to begin with.

  • That’s Right—You’re Wrong (1939)

    That’s Right—You’re Wrong (1939)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, October 2021) It’s amusing that TCM presented That’s Right— You’re Wrong as part of a Lucille Ball retrospective, because once the film begins, it quickly becomes obvious that this is a Kay Kyser vehicle with a little bit of Ball as a (very) supporting character. Not that I minded—In the extended pantheon of ephemeral Hollywood stars, Kyser was an unusual figure and an unlikely movie idol. Soft-spoken, not particularly attractive nor that good of an actor, he nonetheless starred in more than half a dozen pictures, usually (but not always) playing himself as the leader of the Kollege of Musical Knowledge, a music-themed radio game show. As the first film to translate Kyser’s radio popularity to the big screen, That’s Right— You’re Wrong begins and ends with a re-creation of the game show in front of a live audience. In-between, we get Kyser and his bandmates having adventures in Hollywood as a studio tries to tailor a film for them, and the wackiness of the environment transforms them into parodies of themselves. I had quite a bit of fun watching it, but keep in mind that I’ve been something of a Kyser fan for a while: Ever since wondering how he became the star of Swing Fever, I’ve seen six out of his nine feature-length films. (It probably says it all that I don’t only recognize Kyser on sight, but also bandmates such as the lovely Ginny Smith and the deadpan Ish Kabibble.) Despite his underwhelming acting talent (something openly lampooned in a very funny “screen test” sequence), Kyser does have a very likable presence, and he’s never more at ease on the big screen as when he’s playing himself as the professorial host of the Kollege of Musical Knowledge (albeit spelled with a C), having fun with the guests and spouting his catchphrases. (It’s actually fun for a twenty-first century viewer to try to follow along, so obscure are now some of the references.)  The rest of That’s Right— You’re Wrong is hit-and-miss—it works as a Hollywood satire, as Kyser fights against a studio executive played by Adolphe Menjou, but it’s far too often a vehicle that’s more interested in showcasing Kyser in a format familiar to then-viewers of his show. It’s rather wonderful that two of his “shows” are captured that way, even if the action stops dead during that time. For those unfamiliar with Kyser, this is a great introduction to the character and why he attracted Hollywood’s attention as a celebrity DJ bandleader. The comedy is amusing enough to entertain (Ball’s finest moment is in the aforementioned “screen test” sequence), although I suspect that you have to like Kyser’s very unusual charm to fully appreciate That’s Right— You’re Wrong.

  • Fatale (2020)

    Fatale (2020)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, October 2021) There are strong elements of neo-noir in Fatale, and it’s a shame that the film didn’t commit to them. It does start out as something else—if you’ve seen the trailer, it momentarily looks as if this is going to be the story of a family man who gets to experience the consequences of his spur-of-the-moment affair when the police officer investigating a break-in turns out to be his one-night stand. So far so dull—there have been plenty of thrillers before or since Fatal Attraction about the price to pay for infidelity. But as it quickly becomes obvious, Fatale does have other things in mind, as the wife’s character is certainly not innocent, as the bodies pile up, and as the protagonist becomes embroiled in a desperate situation. Before long, there’s talk of trading murders, taking aim at an influential politician, friends of the protagonist failing at a dangerous task, and even more elements of a fatalistic noir where everyone is guilty and there’s no issue. Alas—Fatale doesn’t have the guts to pull through: the ending once again goes back to familiar, toothless tropes. It’s not a bad watch—there’s a rather good succession of moments midway through where the film jumps from adultery thriller to something with more ambition, and has done the groundwork to keep viewers guessing. Michael Ealy is fine as the protagonist, but it’s Hilary Swank who earns the most attention as a deeply disturbed police officer who’s both able to inflict pain in her role, but also has to contend with an even more powerful opponent. I’m not sure Fatale successfully walks back from the abyss of noir darkness—by the end, everyone is compromised and the upbeat ending feels false. Still, it’s not terrible entertainment for a contemporary thriller, and it certainly beats another soulless CGI spectacle.

  • It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown (1966)

    It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown (1966)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, October 2021) It’s a good thing that It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown has a considerable amount of good-natured nostalgic charm because, by modern animation standards, it is rough. Sure, it was made for TV at a time where colour was something new—but its cheapness would be unacceptable these days as a new production, and it does distract from the rest of the film. Even in its dialogues and overall scripting, this is often a slapdash affair—the tone is not always obvious (or consistent) and we’ve grown used to much smoother writing. Still, and this is the aspect that can’t be ignored, there’s an earnestness here that stems directly from Charles Schulz’s source material—kids being kids in their down-to-earth way, albeit with flights of fancy (literally, considering that there’s quite a bit about Snoopy imagining himself dogfighting against the Red Baron) and some pointed humanist moments. That’s the part that hasn’t aged as badly, and one that pulls viewers beyond direct nostalgia. Still, compared to that other Peanuts Christmas classic, It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown feels like something that’s progressively losing its appeal by the decade. I wonder if it will ever be remade: Keep the audio, just redo the animation based on the keyframes.