Movie Review

  • A.P.E.X. (1994)

    A.P.E.X. (1994)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, October 2021) I’m not fond of low-budget films that go around stealing better ideas to mix up them and in fact, thirty minutes into A.P.E.X.,—as the film was stuck in a Terminator-inspired sequence with soldiers trying to gun down a killer robot,—I was this close to shutting down it down altogether. But instead of doing that, I resorted to my usual coping mechanism (i.e.: doing something else) and by the time I was paying attention again, writer-director Phillip J. Roth was doing slightly better. No, A.P.E.X. is not that smart of a film—the attempt at time-travel paradoxes is childish, and it doesn’t take a long time to come up with questions that the film can’t answer. But at least it gets out of the killer-robot thing, and even throws in a few acceptable ideas toward the end. (Hilariously enough, you can’t say that the end rips off Twelve Monkeys because Twelve Monkeys came out the following year.)  It still doesn’t make A.P.E.X. anything more than a cheap and low-budget film inspired by much-better material, but it does make it better when compared to similar films. Not a big victory, but I’ll take what I can get.

  • Ava (2020)

    Ava (2020)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Netflix Streaming, October 2021) I don’t really mind Hollywood making movies about super-competent assassins—I just mind Hollywood making the exact same movie about super-competent assassins a dozen times every year. Namely the movie in which the super-competent assassin is targeted for elimination by their own superiors, and must fight his bigger-better-faster rival to escape. It’s all as familiar as it’s tedious, and the latest Ava is no exception—even featuring a female assassin is nowhere near an innovation these days. But perhaps Ava has to do without another Hollywood subgenre—the female star vehicle meant to showcase its star’s action-movie credentials, along the lines of Atomic Blonde (Charlize Theron, successful) or Peppermint (Jennifer Garner, not successful). Jessica Chastain is an impressive actress, and she generally does well here in an action-driven role. But she’s easily better than the rest of the film (along with Colin Ferrell and John Malkovich), which simply goes through the motions of the usual assassin formula. There’s a little bit of style, but it doesn’t lift the film above the morass. I always like seeing Boston on-screen or Joan Chen in even a small role, but again it’s not much when compared to the boredom of the main plot. In the end, Ava settles for being a somewhat mediocre action film—not badly put together, certainly strengthened by Chastain, but largely undistinguishable from so many other films of the same ilk.

  • Holidate (2020)

    Holidate (2020)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Netflix Streaming, October 2021) If, like me, you’re wondering where all of the mid-budgeted studio romantic comedies have gone, take heart: the streaming revolution is among us, and with it the return of such movies dumped overboard by superhero-chasing studios. Holidate, from Netflix, is not just a romantic comedy according to the rules of the genre, but a self-aware one that keeps poking and prodding at the conventions before giving in to them. The premise is simple: a single attractive young woman and a single attractive young man agree to date each other for the holidays, saving them the trouble of finding someone to accompany them to themed parties and family events. We all know where it’s going and so do the characters, who openly comment on silly movie conventions even as they each share a ridiculous amount of chemistry. There are plenty of subplots, quirky supporting characters and set-pieces to go around (ensuring that the film concludes with every character happily paired), as well as enough laughs to bolster the comedy part of this romantic comedy. Alas, Holidate is perhaps a bit too modern, because it can’t help itself from excessive profanity (not that bothersome) and excessive violence (bothersome—can we have just one romantic comedy without amputation these days?) in the pursuit of finger puns. (One notes that the script was written by a woman.)  The ending could have been slightly stronger (although the choral “JACKSON!” is a nice touch) and less drawn-out, but it does the job. Neither Emma Roberts nor Luke Bracey are anywhere near my list of favourite actors, but they do well here—even if Kristin Chenoweth reliably steals nearly every scene she’s in. Chicago is used as a somewhat generic backdrop, but director John Whitesell keeps things moving with some energy, especially in scenes set in big parties. I wasn’t expecting much from Holidate, but the result is more aggressively comedic than I expected, and just romantic enough to be effective.

  • Les ripoux (1984)

    Les ripoux (1984)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, October 2021) There’s something perverse and reprehensible in the idea of making a good-natured film like Les Ripoux in which we’re asked to side with corrupt policemen—and not the kind of “I kill suspects for justice” corrupt American policemen, but the kind of penny-ante bribes-and-shakedown from neighbourhood hoods and shopkeepers, all speciously justified by a theory that everything’s illegal anyway. It’s even worse in that much of the film is about corrupting the righteous, as a young idealistic policeman with a bright future is gradually weakened by his mentor in crime, then goes on to outdo his teacher. But a few things ensure that we still have a good time. For one thing, the film stars two of the most effortlessly watchable actors of French cinema—Philippe Noiret as the elder statesman of graft, and Thierry Lhermite as the ever-eager scholar. Some swift and efficient characterization works wonders in aligning us with them, even as their behaviour is completely reprehensible. The tone is resolutely aligned with dark comedy, and the bigger villains of the film are drug dealers who had it coming anyway. Sure, there’s a long essay to write about how movies such as Les Ripoux normalize bad policing, corrode confidence in law enforcement, gum the efficient working of the free market and certainly end up making victims along the way. You’d expect such a storyline to be more appropriate for a poorer country where corruption is rampant… but it’s more shocking and funnier when set in Paris. A solid script, pungently telling details and an ultra-cynical look at police work still make this film a distinctive pick even in the hallmarks of dark crime comedy. Les Ripoux works almost against all odds.

  • Tea for Two (1950)

    Tea for Two (1950)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, October 2021) Let’s face it: most classic musicals have a touch of the absurd in them—it comes with a genre in which people burst into song, dance and a full-blown orchestral accompaniment. But some kinds of absurdities are easier to take than most, and it’s often the smallest stuff that does you in: When the heroine of Tea for Two accepts a condition to answer “no” to every question and then proceeds to clearly self-sabotage every opportunity she gets, that’s somehow even harder to accept that the song-and-dance. Even as a comic premise, it’s not all that funny: there’s far more amusing stuff going around the edges of the main plot. For instance, the picture noticeably grows brighter the moment S. Z. Sakall walks on-screen, with bonhomie and exasperation. As the lead, Doris Day (in her first leading role and first dancing role) is okay—maybe slightly bland, but still able to carry the film. The songs are sometimes fun but not specifically memorable, while the dancing numbers are fine—the highlight is a bit of staircase tap-dancing from Gordon MacRae. Tea for Two is in the honest average of 1950s musicals: not exceptional, not terrible, perhaps slightly more forgettable than it should but still an acceptably good time.

  • Equals (2015)

    Equals (2015)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, October 2021) As someone who has read a lot of Science Fiction at an impressionable age, there are a few basic plots that I can’t stand any more, or at least not without significant tweaks. “Living in a society that eradicates emotion” is one of them—I can’t believe in it, I think it’s a naïve concept and unless filmmakers bring something new to the table (such as the gunplay in Equilibrium), it’s useless to go take on literary classics such as Nineteen Eighty-Four or We. So when Equals comes barging in, convinced of the worth of its lame story about star-crossed lovers in a society that (somehow? For some reason?) has outlawed emotion, I am not necessarily on board. When it goes through the motions of a trite plot without much variation on the ur-plot of such stories, I am increasingly not on board. When it casts two of the least expressive, least subtle actors in the business, I am very definitely not on board. When it smothers everything with an excess of dull visuals, muted colours and humourlessness, I am so far away from the board as to not even knowing a board exists. Casting as expressionless an actress as Kirsten Stewart in the role of a young woman living in an emotionless society is either a misfire or perversely ironic— and coupling her with Nicholas Hoult is even worse. While Equals may work as baby’s first dystopian romance, it’s weak, tasteless brew compared to even the most average examples of the form.

  • Witchouse (1999)

    Witchouse (1999)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, October 2021) Hey, real talk right now, OK? We’re among friends here, and it’s not as if the whole Internet’s watching. I will always have a look at witch-themed horror films because I believe, as many filmmakers do, that witches are sexy. The dark gothic thing works well with me, and once you throw in the idea that witches know things that mortals don’t, and that historically they were the women with enough sense to move away from the village to have their own house in the forest and that’s a potent mix. Lighthearted horror film Witchouse does several things wrong (including a misspelled title), but one thing it does get right is Ashley McKinney Taylor as a twentysomething witch inviting “friends” over to her haunted manor for a weekend of fun and games. It is, predictably, a trap meant to conjure the spirit of her long-dead ancestor, but—shh—the point of the movie is having the characters have sex and die, or figure out the threat they’re facing. In addition to the whole witch angle, I’m also a sucker for haunted-house stories and Witchouse’s thin budget does manage halfway credible gothic sets. Monica Snow is very cute with glasses and curly hair, but her survival isn’t much in doubt as the story moves through very familiar plot points. Witchouse is not a good movie by most objective standards—coming from low-end Full Moon studios and directed by B-movie-making machine David DeCoteau (as “Jack Reed”) and produced by the legendary Charles Band, this is meant as very light horror—not quite comedy, but not overly sombre either. There’s a good heaping of nudity and comparatively light violence, a formulaic story and just enough production values to enjoy the result. It’s not refined cinema, but expect a review of Witchouse 2 as soon as I can get it…

  • Unhinged (2020)

    Unhinged (2020)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Netflix Streaming, October 2021) There’s something detestably pernicious in Unhinged’s opening credit sequence that sets the tone and adverse reaction from the audience—a numbing collage of carefully chosen statistics and opinions meant to rile us up into a paranoid vision of the world: We’re stressed, we’re angry, we’re under threat and that normalizes utter psychopathy. I do not think that’s a responsible message, especially as Unhinged completely falls apart if you don’t have a perfect psychopath at the heart of its narrative. It does begin, after all, with the antagonist (a rotund Russell Crowe as loathsome as he’s mesmerizing) setting fire to a house in order to kill his estranged wife and her boyfriend. We’re fed some claptrap about him losing his job due to a workplace accident and subsequent opioid addiction, but little of that is important beyond having a villain able to perform a preposterous series of violent actions meant to terrify our protagonist. The spark is a road rage incident, but the purpose is a rollercoaster series of thrills from beginning to end. Few other recent films have featured so much vehicular smashing and destruction (down to a T-bone collision that doesn’t just send a car flying, but utterly smashes through its steel frame—thanks CGI!) nor any villain so disconnected from reality (his or ours) as to casually kill someone inside a crowded diner and walk away. Even in the universe of thrillers, Unhinged is less believable than most, and that severely limits its ability to be effective. By the time a trail of carnage follows the action (along with unexplained shortcuts having to do with magically finding our protagonist, or unlocking her cell phone), we’ve grown almost entirely unconcerned that something like that could even happen to us. There’s too much gory unnecessary violence (including from the protagonist) and bad attitude to make this fun, and I think that’s an issue by itself: you want thrillers to be scary but rewatchable, like a roller-coaster ride, not tip over in horror and have viewers say, “yuck!”  But Unhinged’s opening moment sets the tone: this will be ugly, and this won’t have any relationship with reality.

  • Run (2020)

    Run (2020)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Netflix Streaming, October 2021) I’ve been watching many underwhelming or mediocre thrillers lately, and just as I was thinking that I was becoming overly jaded, here comes Run to remind me of what works in a thriller. It does begin with a striking image, that of a newborn being revived by doctors. It doesn’t get any less troubling in the next few moments, as the showy direction portends much worse to come, but then we skip to years later, in an isolated rural house, where a bright young disabled homeschooled teenager is waiting for her college admission letters and wondering how she’ll fare once out of her comfortable environment. Alas, this is when various incidents and odd bits of information have her questioning what her mother is doing to prevent her from ever leaving. The twist in store for us is not that original (and poses vexing questions about some of what we see early in the film), but the way of getting there is a thrill ride. It starts with a likable protagonist: Kiera Allen is a revelation as the protagonist, whose bright and likable nature gets stronger in each scene. There’s obviously a mystery running thought Run, as our protagonist, once kept carefully ignorant in her domestic bubble, starts discovering more and more unsettling revelations about the pills she gets and the circumstances of her early life. There’s a bravura sequence in which she escapes to get an answer from a pharmacy that cleverly shows the balance of suspense, pacing and occasional dark humour that the film manages to create. Writer-director Aneesh Chaganty finds a good balance between showy and straightforward direction and has fun playing with his own script (co-written by Sev Ohanian, who co-wrote another recent hit with Searching). Sarah Paulson is suitably kind and menacing in the role of the mother. It all ends with a very nice final sequence, further cementing the film’s success as a thriller. A modest but confident thriller, Run is a nice surprise even for jaded viewers.

  • Gridiron Gang (2006)

    Gridiron Gang (2006)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, October 2021) As far as typical American movies go, it’s hard to manage the three strikes that is Gridiron Gang, which combines the last echoes of slavery, the current shame of the prison-industrial complex and the bread-and-circus fascination for football. The plot, adapted from a true story, is not hard to grasp, as a compassionate carceral worker (Dwayne Johnson, looking significantly younger) creates a football program for incarcerated (nearly all-black) youth. His hope is that, by training for sport, his young charges will create a stronger identity with their sports team than with the street gangs. Of course, it works (at least from the text at the end of the film) but was that ever in doubt? The meaning of the film isn’t in the ending but in the very familiar material that leads to it, as our protagonist’s empathy leads the troublesome youth to act better and become better. Conventional to the point where it’s not really necessary to see the film to grasp what it’s about, Gridiron Gang is not badly made, but its appeal falls sharply the moment it tries to reach audiences that aren’t as indoctrinated in the American system of crime and punishment, or the finer points of football. Fortunately, that’s where the familiarity kicks in: no matter whether you can differentiate a quarterback from a goalpost, Gridiron Gang’s dramatic arc is solid enough that the football sequences merely become interludes between more substantial material. Johnson, at least, used this film to demonstrate his likability as an actor, which would help in stepping up to his current superstardom. Otherwise, there isn’t much more to say: the execution is competent enough that “disaffected youth play football for self-improvement” is all you need to know to deduce if you’re going to enjoy this or not.

  • The Glass Wall (1953)

    The Glass Wall (1953)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, October 2021) While shown on TCM as part of their film noir showcase, I’m more likely to think of The Glass Wall as an immigration drama with a thriller edge. It begins as a Hungarian refugee is denied entry in New York City—despite being eligible for entry for having helped an American soldier during WW2. His deportation being imminent, he takes a chance and sneaks into the city to find the soldier he helped, hoping he may be able to help him establish his legitimate reason for claiming asylum. It does not go smoothly—a trip to Times Square to find his clarinet-playing friend in jazz clubs is complicated by run-ins with various people and an internal injury. Gloria Grahame plays the woman he befriends along the way. There’s some definite tension in trying to find his friend before the police find him, and the escalating level of despair he manifests. As the film goes on, it also becomes far more earnest about the plight of refugees—all the way to walking inside the then-new United Nations building (the titular Glass Wall) to address an empty room. It’s a bit much, but at the same time it clearly states the objectives of the film. The Glass Wall wraps up as a tight 80-minute thriller with a better-than-average social conscience, with some interesting 1950s NYC scenery along the way.

  • Supercondriaque (2014)

    Supercondriaque (2014)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, October 2021) Writer-director Danny Boon has been establishing himself as one of France’s leading film comedy powerhouses since the 2008 breakout hit Bienvenue chez les Ch’tis. Supercondriaque is one of the six films he has led as a filmmaker since then—all broad, big-budgeted (by French standards) comedies aiming at a large public and featuring Boon in leading roles. They’re not that different from the mainstream of Hollywood comedies—clear high-concept premise, formula-tested development, big finale, safe themes and fun for all. In Supercondriaque, we have Boon as an exceptionally hypochondriac man pushed by his exasperated doctor to take back control of his life and get over his imaginary ailments. The big push, after a rather lengthy forty-some minutes of throat-clearing, comes when his uncanny resemblance to a foreign freedom fighter leads to outrageous mistaken-identity romantic and political adventures designed to push his limits. You can guess that it ends on a very funny sequence in which he laughs at unimaginable filth—it’s rather funny to see him bond with a rat. The pacing is generally breezy once it gets going, although Boon and co-star Kad Merad can’t quite avoid some mugging for the camera. Two-time Boon collaborator Alice Pol (she also shows up in the subsequent Raid Dingue) is cute in a less overly comic role, with some good supporting work from a variety of other actors. Supercondriaque is not refined filmmaking, but it’s handled with competence and energy. The gags in the film’s last half get desperate at times (there’s an entire stream of jokes about Victor Hugo’s characters that gets to be a bit much) but that’s in keeping with the increasing frantic nature of the film. For Anglophone audiences looking in tackling recent French comedy, this is not a bad choice—the essential Frenchness of the result isn’t too pronounced and Boon’s lunacy translates well.

  • Future World (2018)

    Future World (2018)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, October 2021) I’m not sure that there’s another recognizable actor out there that has directed as many films as James Franco… to so little impact. I’m counting 18 movies (many of them shorts, documentaries or small-budget indies) in his filmography and the only one that earned some attention was the (admittedly good) The Disaster Artist. Franco, of course, has this weird reputation as an intellectual semi-pretentious artist in between sexual misconduct allegations, with some higher-education controversy blending with the allegations. But little intellectual pretension is on display in his Future World, a film that, at best, can be called a modern take on 1980s post-apocalyptic film. Modernity is relative, of course—the production can rely on far better cameras and more equitable diversity in casting and characterization than thirty years ago, but the stupefying mediocrity of the writing remains the same. I’m not sure what Franco did behind the lens—he has co-directing and producing credits, but Bruce Thierry Chung co-directs and co-wrote the film. Perhaps Franco’s biggest contribution was to help put together a recognizable cast. Aside from himself in a small role, we also get walk-on parts for Snoop Dogg, Cliff “Method Man” Smith, Lucy Liu (underused!) and Milla Jovovich (who seems to be the only one having fun in a dour film). As a post-apocalyptic film, Future World deals with the usual dumb clichés of the genre without questioning them, in a wasteland where motorcycles nearly outnumber humans. The cameras are far more mobile than in previous generations, but that’s roughly where the noteworthiness of the execution stops. The rest is just blander than you can imagine, with very little in terms of entertainment or interest. If that’s Franco in entertainment mode, it’s probably best that he remains in the arthouse world for a while longer.

  • Black Widow (2021)

    Black Widow (2021)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Disney Streaming, October 2021) Considering that Black Widow led to an unusually high-profile profit-sharing lawsuit between star Scarlett Johansson and studio Disney, it can be amusing to refer to it as a contractual obligation on all sides. On Johansson’s side, it was seen as correcting an embarrassing oversight—finally, a standalone film for the sole first-wave female Avenger, even if it meant going back in time prior to the character’s death. It also fits within the Marvel desire to diversify its offerings beyond the all-white, all-male focus of its early films. So that’s how we end with a flashback story in which we follow the Black Widow character in between two previous films, tracking her efforts to reunite with characters from her past and take down another villain along the way. Stemming from the character’s past as a deep-cover agent in the United States, the first two thirds of the film present themselves as a spy adventure with occasional intrusion from the superhero world, only to flip squarely in the superhero “battle in a floating enemy base” mould by the end. But in fulfilling a contractual obligation to Johansson, her character, and fans, Black Widow ends up being a contractual obligation for viewers as well. Tangentially fitting within the overall continuity of the MCU (although the film is a successful feature-length audition for Florence Pugh to take up the character’s mantle going forward—in other words, a character’s introduction… and a hint toward Captain America being present in the 1980s), it feels like a sideshow in more ways than one. The links to the MCU are slight, the story is lower-profile, and the stakes are trivial until they get kicked up to world-changing status in time for the switch to superhero mode. There are several head-scratchers stemming from lazy storytelling and retroactively trying to fit something in the continuity. So, basically—Black Widow is a lower-tier Marvel film, perhaps the dullest since, oh, Thor: The Dark World. (I had similar concerns about Captain Marvel and Doctor Strange, but both of those had some great narrative hooks to go along with the familiar formula.)  It’s technically the first of the Phase Four MCU films, but the setting in between other Phase Three films makes it feel like it belongs to the earlier phase. Considering that the Marvel creative team is putting pieces on the checkerboard for years of post-Thanos storylines, it’s not a bad time to fulfill those contractual obligations, introduce new characters, do a bit of housecleaning, rebalance the diversity ratios and have a breather episode. At this stage, even an underwhelming Marvel film is sufficiently comfortable to deliver on basic points of popular entertainment: evocative character work, competent actors, slick production values and kinetic action sequences. It all feels very familiar, but comforting at the same time: another contractual obligation to deliver what the audience expected. I expect the film to end up being a small sideshow to the MCU—the kind of instalment that, in a few years, will be flow-charted as one of the optional entries in the canon, for completists and fans of the character only. Until then, well, there’s already Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings in theatres and Eternals a few weeks away from release, so there’s always something else in the pipeline.

  • Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (2003)

    Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (2003)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, October 2021) As I grow older, I’m less and less bothered by series of film adaptations of literary classics—in fact, it’s rather wonderful to see how each era tackles the same source material, through its own biases, styles and self-censorship. In measuring the 2003 version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde against earlier version from the 1930s-40s, I’m surprised to realize that this one makes the striking choice to not overplay the physical difference between both alter egos—John Hannah plays Hyde with a minimal amount of makeup compared to Jekyll, giving a welcome spin on the idea of the duality of both characters. It’s bloodier, far more aware of the homoerotic aspect of its material (to the point of Hyde killing a woman held by Jekyll and embracing him as she slumps to the floor—yes, this turns weird at times) and more straightforward in the realism that earlier filmmakers could not show. The period recreation is generally convincing, albeit limited by the budget of a TV movie. It almost goes without saying that those most used to seeing Hannah in comedic roles may have a harder time adapting to the film—as will Robert Louis Stevenson’s readers, who will tick off the film’s numerous deviations from the source material. But this Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde still stands distinctly as an unusually daring approach to the material, pushing the psychological dimension of the tale and taking it in a different (if imperfect) place. It doesn’t feel much like a repetition of earlier versions of the material, not even Mary Reilly. Oh, and here’s something I did not know before doing research for this capsule review—Stevenson’s Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde wasn’t a reaction to Jack the Ripper—it predates the first murders by two years, and a theatrical adaptation of the novel was shut down due to concerns over the killings!