Movie Review

  • Fanny (1961)

    Fanny (1961)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) There’s an undeniable tension in becoming an aging playboy — what sounds cute as a young man pursuing equally young women curdles and turns creepy when it’s the same older man still hitting on just-as-young women, and if you want to talk about the enduring flaws of Hollywood, that’s a big one. I would hope that the recent readjustment in tolerance for sexual harassment will lead to change in this area, but, in the meantime, we still have decades of examples to contend with. One of the chief exhibits in this field would be Maurice Chevalier — a perfectly charming young premier in the 1930s who, by the 1960s, found himself back in Hollywood as a much older man. The traditional way to address this is to go the look-but-don’t-touch route, with older men dispensing love wisdom and memories of past romances to younger men, while still looking appreciatively at the younger women around them. In the Oscar-nominated Fanny, however, we get a much more complex take on a similar idea, as Chevalier (then 73) plays a rich older man in French coastal Marseilles, who overtly courts a much younger woman (Leslie Caron, then 30) for marriage. But there are complications — the biggest being that the young woman loves an equally young man who has left to sea after impregnating her. The April-October romance becomes more acceptable as a way for her (and her father, and the village) to save face. But there’s a lot more in store, and much of the interest in the middle section of the film is in those unpredictable plot developments popping up to make things more complex, and chip away at the male fantasy of an old man marrying a younger woman. The ending gets us back to where this was all going (with age-appropriate romantic partners) but the way to get there is more picturesque than expected. The film has other assets — the seaside Marseilles atmosphere is often very likable, and Chevalier gets to spar on-screen with long-time friend and fellow French expat Charles Boyer. Caron simply looks timelessly beautiful with long hair, and having Chevalier in one of his last decent romantic roles goes better than expected. Fanny, rather than leave the creepy older-man/younger-woman romance unexamined, squarely engages with the trope and gets a lot of dramatic mileage out of it: it’s really not as distasteful as you’d expect.

  • Pepe (1960)

    Pepe (1960)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) Whenever you’re a movie producer putting together a star vehicle, you must be amazingly confident that your star can sustain the film, otherwise, well… Putting together a star vehicle for Mexican comedian Catinflas wasn’t an obvious exercise back in 1960 — while the diminutive, hyperactive actor has earned good notices for his turn in Around the World in 80 Days and was a world-wide sensation outside the United States, Hollywood didn’t quite know what to do with him. This clearly shows in how it approached Pepe — first, by passing off the then-50 years old as a youngster searching for his beloved horse in Hollywood, then stacking the film with so many cameos from known actors of the time that even if you don’t like the lead, you can still find something entertaining in the result. This is really not the best way to be introduced to Cantinflas — his comic persona is deadened by a silly script, unrealistic expectations and a mismatch of comic styles. The film predictably makes him out to be a holy fool of sorts, his simplistic rural assumptions wowing the sophisticated Hollywood types with their homegrown wisdom. This is trite even by circa-1960 standards, and your liking for the film is likely to pair up with your tolerance for that kind of comedy. (Tellingly, this kind of protagonist is funny-friend rather than boyfriend material for our white female lead, as the conclusion makes clear.)  So, what’s left? The cameos, of course — Catinflas aside, Pepe does make up for a quick tour of its era’s celebrities, and you’ll get more out of it the more you know about the time. Bing Crosby pleasantly croons his way past our protagonist at the studio gates, while Dean Martin plays cards with him in Vegas. Jack Lemmon shows up in full drag (then out of it, then back into it) as a big nod to the previous year’s Some Like It Hot, but in colour — and so does his co-star Tony Curtis in a separate but amusing scene. Sammy Davis. Jr. sings “Hurray for Hollywood,” while the classic instrumental “Tequila” gets a dreamlike segment. Maurice Chevalier sings “Mimi” and trades love tips with Catinflas, Judy Garland is heard but not seen, and Kim Novak provides jewelry advice. If you know those names and don’t object to celebrity walk-ons, then Pepe probably still has something for you. If you’re a bit lost as to who these people are and why they’re worth seeing on-screen, you may want to wait until you do before watching the film. Pepe is not that enjoyable as a standalone comedy, but it is substantially better as a late-era satirical look at classic Hollywood through celebrity cameos, not dissimilar to 1949’s Doris Day comedy It’s a Great Feeling or the earlier star-studded Canteen films of WW2.

  • Swing Low aka Ravage (2019)

    Swing Low aka Ravage (2019)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) The first impression you get from Ravage is that it’s an aggressive movie: The opening credits smash-cuts to the entire screen, as a loud soundtrack lets you know that, no, it’s not meant to be a snooze. But aggressiveness carries a price — you have to be able to back it up with substance, otherwise it becomes hollow posturing. As Ravage advances, however, it becomes increasingly obvious that it doesn’t have anything under the surface — and the unusually shoddy ending merely puts the rotten cherry on top of a rancid sundae. The basics of the plot aren’t difficult at all — in fact, they harken back to the most basic plot in the business, as a female protagonist out in a deeply rural area sees a crime committed by local hooligans and must run for her life. Moments later, we’re well in revenge thriller territory, and the rest of how that goes should be familiar… if writer-director Teddy Grennan knew what he was doing. But either he doesn’t, or he seeks to do things so differently that he loses sight of why formulas work when they’re done well. Starting with an idiotic framing device that tells you the end of the story before it even begins (and then doesn’t link the end of the story to the framing device — so sloppy), Ravage is alternately boring and stupid, subverting expectations by taking the single worst decision at every step of the way. This is a film that labours under the misapprehension that the protagonist not taking revenge in a revenge story is the kind of thing that will have audiences nodding in agreement. To be fair, Grennan’s direction is slightly better than his writing — although the limits of the film’s budget and intentions are obvious in its shakycam style. If you make it to the end of the film hoping for retribution, sorry for your inconvenience because Ravage then leaps into one of the dumbest climaxes in recent memory, having the antagonist sew the heroine inside a cow in the hopes that bovine stomach acid will dissolve her, which is gruesome but almost unimaginably stupid considering that A> she won’t fit; B> cow stomach acid is notoriously weak; C> it’s a plan that takes the cake in the “most needlessly convoluted complication in the way to the heroine’s escape” category—which you see right before the film ends, not bothering with an ending. On the flip side, it’s that final touch of terrible ideas that sends any appreciation of the film flying from loathing to mild mockery. The result isn’t anything fit to recommend to anyone, and it exposes Ravage’s initial aggressiveness for the hollow façade that it can’t support.

  • Battle Cry (1955)

    Battle Cry (1955)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) Running at a leisurely two and a half hours, it’s no surprise if Battle Cry ends up containing two different films. The first is a classic Hollywood war narrative, with recruits joining the army, forging themselves into a fighting unit throughout training, and going to war in the second half of the film. That first film, following a familiar formula, is rather well done: The colour cinematography helps in capturing the atmosphere of a World War II Marine regiment, and the execution does justice to familiar material. The second film, alas, keeps intruding on the first, and it’s a set of very, very lengthy romantic digressions in which our protagonists manage to find love interests in the usual places. It’s not that I object to romantic subplots — in war movies, they’re often great ways to put a stake in perspective, not to mention being interesting in their own right. But the way Battle Cry goes about it is completely lopsided, spending far too much time running over repetitive sequences that scarcely add to the whole. Our young protagonists would have been better off developing their character by interacting with their fellow soldiers, considering the exasperating tripe of the romantic segments. I can only suppose that this was a deliberate decision to gather the widest possible audience — but I’m not sure it succeeds from a narrative perspective. Heck, some main characters die and disappear from the film through voiceover! At least Battle Cry is slightly better when it focuses on military matters: Despite the colour cinematography, there’s a woolly WW2-era sensibility to the way everything is handled, with none other than Van Heflin to provide authority as a senior officer tasked to the group of trainees and Aldo Ray as a soldier who learns better from it all. The final result is muddled — good in some ways, dull in others for rather mixed results. See Battle Cry for the good parts, tolerate the not-so-good ones and wonder at how many recent films still use the same plot template.

  • Recon (2019)

    Recon (2019)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) It’s really not a good sign when you’re almost at the end of the film and still wonder when it’s really going to start. Alas, that’s what awaits you with limp WW2 adventure Recon, in which a few American soldiers walk through the Italian countryside, witness war atrocities, and are settled by vaguely superstitious portents. The unusually grayed-out cinematography certainly doesn’t help the film get away from the doldrums — everything is muted, featureless and frankly boring to look at: How many times can we stay interested in four guys walking through snow-dusted fields? It feels cold and lifeless, and writer-director Robert David Port’s pacing is so slow as to drown out whatever happens in the narrative. The film’s low budget and unconvincing research clearly show in the unconvincing period detail, dubious portrayal of military men, and strict avoidance of anything that could look like too much money outside a few carefully-planned CGI shots. The characters are not particularly likable, further adding to the sense that the film is forever about to really begin. Recon could have used supernatural elements more strongly didn’t, leaving the impressing that the film falls in-between two chairs between credible historical re-creation and supernatural fantasy. In other words, I have reconned Recon and can report that there’s nothing going on there.

  • Crisis (2021)

    Crisis (2021)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) It’s easy to see where writer-director Nicholas Jarecki wants to go in presenting Crisis as a three-strand overview of the opiate overdose crisis: First at the very high level with a scientist (Gary Oldman) uncovering the synthetic drug’s incredible addictive potential and getting pilloried for it by corporate interests; at the medium level with a police officer (Armie Hammer) playing dirty to interrupt the flow of drugs into the United States; and finally at the lowest, personal level by featuring a mom (Evangeline Lily) grieving her son, dead of an opioid overdose, and going on a revenge quest to find out who’s responsible. It’s all quite noble, and it intermittently works: The objectives are ambitious and the main actors do decent work. Best of all, though, is how much of Crisis takes place in Montréal, with none other than Guy Nadon playing the evil drug kingpin and some naturalistic bilingual dialogue. (The filmmakers know what they’re doing with some pitch-perfect Michel Pagliaro playing in a French-Canadian bar scene.)  But where I cool off on the film is in seeing how it all comes together: While the cop and mother storylines are fated to collide in interesting ways, they play according to some very familiar rules, half-heartedly executed. The cop theatrics are sometimes troubling in their unquestioned use of police power, and some sequences (notably the helicopter-on-a-cliff arrest that begins the film) are overdone compared to the more tepid rest of the film. But the bigger problem is that the third narrative strand, at the scientific level, remains isolated from the other — clearly the most substantial subplot, but also the one that seems most underdeveloped. Crisis doesn’t quite gel together and fumbles the ball despite its laudable intentions. The opioid crisis will eventually get the film that does it justice, but Crisis isn’t it.

  • Cloudburst (1951)

    Cloudburst (1951)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) Now here’s something interesting: A British film noir set in the post-war years and focusing on a code-breaking protagonist. No, “Bletchley Park” is not mentioned — Cloudburst was completed decades before the extent of the Allies’ code-breaking was declassified—, but there’s something almost reverential in the way the code-breaking is treated here. Part of it is a gimmick (including a sloppy code left on the scene of the crime) and part of it comes from screenwriter Leo Marks, who did work in code-breaking during WW2 (although, ironically, not at Bletchley Park). The Canadian-born protagonist is initially presented as a promising young man with an ideal life and an expectant wife, but then — the wife is killed in a hit-and-run, and the protagonist goes on a roaring rampage of revenge to find and kill those responsible. Using his wartime skills, he makes mincemeat of the first culprit, then hits a wall in tracking down the passenger. Ironically enough, things get moving once again when the authorities bring him the coded message he left on the scene of his first murder and ask him to, essentially, investigate himself. It’s all handled with a certain competence: Francis Searle directs the material appropriately from within a burgeoning Hammer studio, and Robert Preston lends his voice to the lead. It’s a satisfying watch despite some unconvincing staging and some strange plotting oversights — the code-breaking aspect really helps to set it apart from the pack, and Preston’s character gets more and more interesting when he’s stuck between his own revenge and the police closing in. Thanks to all of those added details, Cloudburst remains well worth a look—especially as a slight deviation from the usual noir material.

  • Without you I’m Nothing (1990)

    Without you I’m Nothing (1990)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) As someone who finds Sarah Bernhard curiously attractive, the idea of spending 90 minutes watching a film adaptation of one of her one-woman shows was irresistible. But I clearly had no idea what I was getting into, as the result is very specifically hers. While superficially the usual mix of songs and stand-up numbers, the entire thing teeters precipitously on the edge of camp, irony and artifice. She wears disguises, becomes a variety of personas, takes on spoken-word material that clearly isn’t autobiographical, satirizes circa-1990 society (which does have some timeless quality), does unusual covers of recognizable songs… and that’s just the performance material, because in-between we get a disinterested announcer, a crowd that leaves the venue (the last one leaving a harsh review), semi-erotic interludes and even more material that defies description. It all culminates in a burlesque performance that leaves only the bare minimum to the imagination. Throughout, we get the sense that it’s a self-aware performance on top of other self-aware performances, with a thick lathering of irony that makes everything feel even weirder. What to make of it? I’m not sure, except that it’s a fun ride with Bernhard. Side note: the film’s title is bland, but it’s shortened from the much-funnier title of the off-Broadway show it’s adapted from: Without You, I’m Nothing, With You, I’m Not Much Better.

  • Gojira tai Mekagojira [Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla] (1974)

    Gojira tai Mekagojira [Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla] (1974)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) Coming toward the end of the classic Toho era of the Godzilla cycle, Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla clearly shows how crazy the narrative was getting by this fourteenth instalment of the series. Sure, we’ve got Godzilla living on Monster Island and a few friends. We also have apelike aliens trying to hatch an evil plan against earth. But we also have an ancient prophecy, a vision of great destruction and some shenanigans about a fake Godzilla before the skin is stripped away to reveal the villainous Mechagodzilla. All of this builds to the usual rubber-suit wrestling match, complete with Godzilla’s charming ping-pong eyes. It’s all pleasantly crazy, especially when you realize that it blends elements of The Planet of the Apes with some references to Leone’s Spaghetti Westerns. Jun Fukuda’s direction and the colour cinematography are still quite a bit of fun today, although the convolutions of the plot are really not as interesting as the series’ usual scenes of kaiju causing propriety destruction. I’m still trying to find my way around the series, but Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla is not a bad addition, and by that point of the series, viewers have learned to tune out or enjoy the more outlandish plot elements.

  • Angrily Ever After (2019)

    Angrily Ever After (2019)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, September 2021) As far as BET original romantic comedies go, Angrily Ever After is strictly middle-of-the-road stuff — fun enough to watch (perhaps preferably while doing other things) but not memorable enough to stick in mind. That, mind you, is already not too bad — there are enough terrible BET original movies to make anyone appreciate the not-so-bad ones. In this case, the plot revolves around a young news anchor who, thanks to an emotional outburst against her fiancé and his too-intimate friend, ends up losing her job, her engagement, her apartment, her book contract on “Having it all” and much of her self-respect in one day. Things don’t necessarily get any better once she’s hired for another job, as her outburst has led her to be typecast as the “angry black woman” expected to issue enraged commentary on the issues of the day. For someone with a Masters in Journalism, that’s quite a step down — but she’s got other problems, such as confronting the white woman telling her that no $50,000 refunds are allowed on her wedding resort reservation — at best a year-long postponement. The ticking clock being activated, the rest of Angrily Ever After boils down to — is she going to get back with her two-timing ex-fiancé, that sexy new guy at the new workplace, or something else? Don’t worry — it all works out thanks to contrivances (what kind of moron kisses another woman in front of the bridal shop where his fiancée is trying her dress?), plot cheats and the weight of audience expectations. The portrayal of the TV business is hilariously warped: No channel ever hires someone for colour commentary and has them discover the exact nature of it on the air.)  It’s definitely heavier on romance than comedy — not that many funny situations here nor snappy dialogue, but at least it ends well. Jasmine Burke is lovely in the lead role, with Ta’Rhonda Jones providing much of the comic relief as the best friend character. You can argue that director Terri J. Vaughn’s film doesn’t manage to fulfill expectations — slack on comedy, not that exceptional on romance either, and curiously timid when it’s time to comment on social media toxicity or expectations toward young female professionals. But Angrily Ever After is watchable without being terrible, and it wraps up with a big smile at the “Joy of Losing It All.”  I’ve seen worse.

  • Lord Jones Is Dead (2016)

    Lord Jones Is Dead (2016)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) You wouldn’t necessarily expect a theatrical piece featuring three characters to delve deeply into matters of journalistic ethics and the future of newspapers, but that’s exactly what Lord Jones Is Dead aims to do. Adapted from a play, the film presents three journalists (two writers, one photographer) trying to stay sane during a particularly meaningless news stakeout. Camped near a humble Johannesburg suburban bungalow trying to get a glimpse of a minister’s rumoured mistress while other people are doing more interesting things, our characters argue, complain, play and come to (ineffectual) blows over the course of the day. Their main topic of contemplation is the news itself — specifically the way the Internet undermines journalism, sending it to the common lowest denominator, emptying advertising revenues and harming the noble profession. Of course, our insiders know better than anyone else how the sausage is made — one of them may still have his ideals, but another one doesn’t, and the third member of the trio isn’t much of a referee. Various episodes try to stretch the film to various degrees of success — the musical number is oddly charming, but Austin Andrews’s directorial showmanship gets ridiculous at times — spinning the camera and having the character speak intently to his cell phone works solely because it’s a close-up, otherwise it would be ridiculous staged as a long shot. Nonetheless, Lord Jones is Dead becomes a surprisingly entertaining film — it milks every single possibility out of its setting and characters, creates some depth to their shared history and common acquaintances, and actually wrestles with topics of somewhat specialized interest. Jonathan Pienaar is a highlight as the jaded and bemused photographer who barely gets to act as an elderly figure. It’s true that my above-average interest in journalism issues predisposes me favourably to the film, but there’s something simply admirable in tackling a narrow (but vital) topic in the way Lord Jones is Dead does, stripping down setting in order to focus on character and having fun with the mise-en-scène along the way.

  • Get Yourself a College Girl (1964)

    Get Yourself a College Girl (1964)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) If there’s one defining feature to the wave of 1960s movie musicals, it’s the growing acceptance that pop music was fundamentally changing into a teen-driven, hits driven form of entertainment. Never mind sheet music or songs from bandleaders — pop was clearly going for billboard charts and groups singing to the teenagers. You can see this shift being particularly pronounced in such non-prestige pictures as Get Yourself a College Girl, which was as much a musical revue show as any of the classic musicals, but aimed at the new teenage set. Strong similarities with the Bikini Beach series abound — silly plots, young women in bikinis, a slight anti-establishment edge (in this case, dealing with ambitious politicians), many musical performances by artists of the day, and a cheeky approach to courtship and sex that now feels tame despite pushing limits back then. It’s not an unpleasant watch — even if the plot is nothing interesting, there are enough musical acts in varied genres (including The Animals, a young Nancy Sinatra and Astrud Gilberto crooning, “The Girl From Ipanema”) to keep things astonishing throughout. Not cinematically good but almost invaluable from a pop-anthropology viewpoint, Get Yourself a College Girl is a trip back in time that’s worth taking at least once.

  • I Love You, Beth Cooper (2009)

    I Love You, Beth Cooper (2009)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, September 2021) It’s certainly possible that all teenage high-school romantic comedies are timeless — that despite the gadgets introduced or taken away over the years, teenagers are still more or less the same as they’ve been for decades, and that their struggles are the same. That would explain why I Love You, Beth Cooper is so familiar despite being twelve years old by now, and why it barely earns anything more than a shrug. The spark is there, though — as the film begins, an overeager valedictorian makes the titular lovelorn confession in front of a crowd — despite Cooper already being in a relationship and our protagonist not having much of a chance. But Hollywood has a magic of its own, and before long our protagonist and his best friend are palling around with Cooper and her two best friends. Compressing the action in one madcap day, I Love You, Beth Cooper goes through the expected motions, with Cooper not being the girl everyone thought, bullies being humbled, sexual discoveries made and adventures had. It’s not intolerable, but there are so many little annoying things about the result that it just feels off. The humiliation comedy is considerable, and the film has dubious ideas about comedy that are fit to make anyone squint in doubt. For director Chris Columbus (who’s hardly a can’t-miss director), this is a misfire of unusual proportions. Paul Rust doesn’t do too badly as the male lead, but Hayden Panettiere isn’t anything special as Cooper — dozens of actresses could have done just as well, if not better. I Love You, Beth Cooper all amounts to a curiously disposable teen romantic comedy — frantic and disorganized, often trying too hard (such as the movie quotes-spouting character) but whose formulaic delivery can’t ignite the material. It wasn’t good when it came out, isn’t good now and won’t be good in another dozen years… but I can guarantee that teenagers won’t have changed much by then.

  • Score: A Hockey Musical (2010)

    Score: A Hockey Musical (2010)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) There are films, good or bad, that just make you want to say, “Wow, that exists.”  So it is that Score: A Hockey Musical is exactly what it says — a hockey musical. A low-budget one, so don’t go about expecting extravagant choreography or polished singing — it simply aims to deliver on its title, and little more. The plot, if you must ask, has to do with a talented newcomer being discovered as a hockey sensation and becoming famous in the process, leading to a reappraisal of his values and how fame has corrupted them. In other words, near-exact transposition of the classical musical ur-plot about an unknown character becoming a singing sensation and losing touch with themselves. It’s moderate fun as long as you can skip the narrative contrivances. There are several, several cameos from circa-2010 Canadian celebrities from the musical and hockey fields. Writer-director Michael McGowan certainly has noble and patriotic intentions, but can’t rely on Golden-Age MGM’s depth of technical talent. Accordingly, the lyrics are obvious, the melodies somewhat boring, the singing talent not always up to the task and everything definitely lacks polish. Arguably more adept at evoking fun than being fun by itself, Score: A Hockey Musical is not a terrible watch, but it’s one that requires a good degree of Canadian indulgence in order to fully appreciate. Despite its flaws, I’m glad it exists.

  • Bitchin’: The Sound and Fury of Rick James (2021)

    Bitchin’: The Sound and Fury of Rick James (2021)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2021) I’m not going to pretend I knew all that much about Rick James — sure, I knew the music (“Superfreak”), sure, I knew about the later-life memes by way of David Chapelle. But the rest… not so much. So, I was ideally primed to see Bitchin’: The Sound and Fury of Rick James, which asks James’ friends and family to take a look at his legacy ten years after his death. The opening is surprisingly cinematic, as they open his storage unit years after James’ death, and start looking at memorabilia. What follows is, in many ways, a familiar story: a capable artist reaching heights of fame and being consumed by drugs and excess, sinking back into obscurity before a later-life pop-culture revival. The film is, as is often the case with friends-and-family docupics, somewhat sympathetic to James — many of the less-savory events of his life (say, the kidnapping and assault charges) are barely touched upon and while his drug use is condemned, it’s always paired with the weird quasi-admirative relationship everyone has with “the rock-star lifestyle.” That does temper the fun of the rest of the documentary, which features quite a few of James’ best-known numbers, a cogent overview of the musical genre he was working in and some amusing stories about his relationship with Prince. There’s even a detour through Toronto at a culturally important time, as James evaded the US draft during the Vietnam War. Much of this exhilaration comes falling down in the film’s second half, as drugs take over his life (including a disastrous TV performance) and almost certainly hastened his early death. While Bitchin’ certainly does not make a saint out of its subject, it does make the too-familiar biographical trade-off of privileging access to interviewees over a completely honest presentation. That kind of decision is increasingly untenable in an environment where you can fact-check documentaries by a simple Wikipedia check. The result is not a bad documentary: writer-director Sacha Jenkins assembles a documentary that’s reasonably entertaining throughout. But it’s missing some crucial content, and that makes it difficult to recommend it wholeheartedly. Any viewing should be accompanied by some judicious fact-checking.