Reviews

  • Millionaires in Prison (1940)

    Millionaires in Prison (1940)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) The only thing more remarkable than Millionaires in Prison’s blend of several elements (medical thriller, buddy con comedy, social critique, men in prison drama) is that it tries to do it all in barely more than an hour. As a result, expect quite a few herky-jerky swerves from beginning to end, as director Ray McCarey does his perfunctory best with a weird script and (produced in the factory setting of B-grade Hollywood) wasn’t particularly interested in being any good for posterity. It starts as five millionaires are convicted and end up in the same cell block, but the following minutes can go from comedy to romance, only to end up in inspiring medical drama by the end of the film. If the film contains social commentary, it’s implied at best — this isn’t meant to be profound stuff. A letdown considering the title, Millionaires in Prison does get a few laughs thanks to its actors more than its script—Lee Tracy in particular. Not recommended except maybe as a curiosity or an example of lower-grade filmmaking circa 1940s.

  • Ladies They Talk About (1933)

    Ladies They Talk About (1933)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) The history of women-in-prison films is much older than I thought, as demonstrated by Ladies They Talk About, an early-1930s film describing life in jail for a female bank robber. This being said, even this Pre-Code film is nowhere near the same leagues as the exploitation subgenre that began in the 1970s with The Big Doll House — it may be titillating at times (notably with girl-on-girl fighting and ladies wearing not much by Code standards) but nowhere near as exploitative as later takes on similar material. While audiences at the time may have been intrigued, modern viewers may find more to like in an early Barbara Stanwyck performance as the protagonist — she’s nowhere near as polished or unforgiving as in later performances, but she’s already showing the mixture of beauty, steel and versatility that would mark her as a leading actress across decades. This being said, the script itself can be really odd at times — strange twists and turns, including an impromptu musical number (starring a picture of Joe E. Brown!), an unusual lack of spatial unity for a prison film, and an ending in which the heroine shoots a guy but immediately regrets what she’s done (it qualifies as a flesh wound and a happy ending). Watch it for Stanwyck more than anything else — although it’s interesting to see the film’s messiness at times.

  • Basket Case (1982)

    Basket Case (1982)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, March 2021) As much as I dislike slasher movies with knife-wielding antagonists, it doesn’t take all that much improvement over the basic formula for me to give at least a nod of recognition at the ambition. Basket Case, for instance, is at its core a formula slasher — it does have a serial killer running around, it has victims falling dead every fifteen minutes or so, and it has the dark gritty aesthetics characteristic of the genre at the time. But it goes go farther and crazier — the prime example being what’s in the basket that the protagonist lugs around: his deformed conjoined twin, featuring delightfully twisted special effects once it starts killing people. That’s an unusual relationship all right, and it’s bolstered by an unusually strong sense of atmosphere as the characters lurk down the mean streets of early-1980s Manhattan. Basket Case is not, to be clear, a particularly good or likable horror film — it’s low-budget, gory and often unpleasant. But writer-director Frank Henenlotter does distinguish himself in a genre when it’s all too frequent for films to be both repellent and forgettable.

  • Vibes (1988)

    Vibes (1988)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) I’m not sure if the cast or the loopy premise is what makes Vibes worth a look despite not being that much of a good movie. It does start in a very weird, very dated way, as volunteers are matter-of-fact tested for psychic powers and the evidence is portrayed as incontrovertible. This, apparently, isn’t a big deal in the universe of the film, but rather a setup for a romantic comedy in which a psychometrist (a young and gangly Jeff Goldblum) meets cute with a trance-medium (Cindy Lauper!) that gets otherworldly information from an unheard spirit guide. Both of them are then hired under false pretence to find a treasure high up Ecuador’s mountains by a mysterious man (Peter Falk). It all leads to a mixture of romance and paranormal adventure, enlivened by a deliberately awkward performance from Goldblum and a bubbly take from Lauper. The casting surprises continue into the supporting role, what with Julian Sands popping up as an antagonist, an early turn by Elizabeth Peña in arresting lingerie, and Steve Buscemi in a brief role as a no-good boyfriend. Unfortunately, even the off-kilter opening and the intriguing cast can’t quite manage to make Vibes a success — at best, it’s an entirely forgettable film that struggles with the ideas and actors at its disposal. At worst, it feels like a cynical product, taking some woo-woo themes and awkwardly grafting it onto a formula blend of familiar genres and narratives. Still, the verdict is in, and the cast remains the best reason to seek out the film: Goldblum is definitely worth a look, and so is Lauper in one of her few acting roles.

  • Child’s Play 3 (1991)

    Child’s Play 3 (1991)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, March 2021) I thought I was done with the Child’s Play series, but checking my lists, it turns out that I hadn’t yet seen Child’s Play 3, one of the least memorable instalments of an already forgettable series. Taking place at a military academy (not an original setting after The Omen II), the film is more of the same for fans — there’s Chucky, revived arbitrarily, targeting protagonist Andy and slaughtering a number of other people along the way. The puppetry can be impressive at times, but the structure of the film is nothing beyond the usual string of death scenes one after the other. Arguably the scariest thing about the film is its depiction of an institution that aims to transform kids into stone-cold career killers, but let’s not expect this horror film to re-examine America’s fundamental militarism. Amusingly enough, the Wikipedia article about the film has an entire paragraph dedicated to its writer and director both dismissing the result — that probably tells you everything to know about it. I myself lived in peace for quite a white without having seen Child’s Play 3, and while the result is far from being a terrible horror film, there’s very little in there to justify seeing it. Unless you’re a fan of the series, in which go wild and have fun.

  • Oh, God! (1977)

    Oh, God! (1977)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) If you’re reading this review in the hope of learning a reason to see Oh, God!, it’s not that complicated: George Burns as God. That’s your reason. The story may be a circa-1977 take on how a divine message would be perceived by humanity, but the film’s big draw is Burns playing (a representation of) God, talking to a most unlikely messenger and trying to get him to spread his gospel. It’s sacrilegious and surprisingly faithful at once, tweaking traditional doctrine but reinforcing moral values at once, and reserving its biggest criticism for hypocritical televangelists. Director Carl Reiner does justice to a script that’s not specifically comic nor all that profound, remaining to the gentle amiability of the proceedings. John Denver is not bad in the lead role and Terry Garr is her usual self in a supporting role, but Burns steals the show — he’s the most remarkable character, gets all of the best lines (including some great ad-libs, we’re told) and plays the role with impeccable comic timing. I dimly remembered at least the concept for the film from childhood trips to the video store, but I’m not sure I saw more than the courtroom scene. In any case, the result is pleasant without being hilarious — but the result does feel smarter than the average Hollywood comedy, so there’s that. Plus Burns as God, obviously.

  • Where’s Poppa? (1970)

    Where’s Poppa? (1970)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) There are two problems with Where’s Poppa? — the first being that its transgressive humour doesn’t seem so shocking today, the second being that it probably wasn’t all that successful in 1970 either. This story of a man trying to get rid of an unbearable mother pretty much takes you where you’d expect a black comedy to go, and those places are far darker by default in 2021 than they were back then. (This being said, I don’t think many films even today would try to, let alone get, a chuckle out of a line like “You raped a cop?!”)  The film is mildly entertaining but not particularly funny. I strongly suspect that the film’s ugly cinematography, straight out of utterly unfunny 1970s Manhattan grittiness, is not conductive to a lighthearted tone. (This is not helped by the film’s sorry lack of restoration — even standard-bearer TCM broadcast a distinctly rough-looking print with cropped edges, muddy resolution and washed-out colours.)  It’s perhaps best approached as one title on director Carl Reiner’s long and often uneven filmography — they’re not all winners, but in total they do showcase a wide-ranging comic sensibility capable of the best as well as the most pandering. In that context, Where’s Poppa? is far from being the worst thing on his resumé. If praise must be given, the film does have the distinction of avoiding being irritating despite the dark subject matter — but given that it settles for humdrum mediocrity, it’s not much of a victory.

  • Storm Warning (1951)

    Storm Warning (1951)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) The more I dig into Hollywood films (especially the not-so-well-known ones), the more I realize that racism and anti-racism are as American as anything else you’d care to mention. From slavery to the Civil War (fought over preserving racism!) to the Klu Klux Klan (both the original and the revival) to modern white supremacist movements, the United States has often featured both systemic racism and organized reaction to it. A further contribution to this theory is found in Storm Warning, a suspense film in which the KKK (revival edition) are squarely designated as the villains in a small-town murder thriller. Surprisingly enough for such a hard-edged topic, the film stars no less than Ginger Rogers, Doris Day and Ronald Reagan in very serious roles — with Reagan stepping into the film midway through as a crusading district attorney: not a bad film to have on one’s filmography back when Republicans were not running platforms of institutionalized racism. Things being said, there’s a distinction to be made between a noble subject and a less-than-successful execution, and Storm Warning is often better in summary than in execution: the plot is a bit conventional, but worst of all is that the racism of the KKK is not highlighted very strongly. The film seems to presume that the audience knows all about the KKK and doesn’t really touch that topic, leading to a curiously all-Caucasian film about an incredibly racist organization that barely features what they’re best known for. At times, regrettably, you could have replaced the KKK with any other backwoods organized crime outfit and much of the film wouldn’t have played very differently. What a wasted opportunity. But then again, it’s useful to remind ourselves that the film dates from 1951, a time when even the major studios were cutting black-performer numbers from their musicals because Southern USA theatres refused to play such movies. 1951 was a time before desegregation, before the civil rights era, before Loving vs. Virginia, before, well, the latest iteration of racism in American discourse. It’s an ongoing fight, and progress is being made—but even in its watered-down version, Storm Warning is a reminder that the fight should have been over a long time ago—and that many people are now as evil as the KKK was.

  • In & Of Itself (2020)

    In & Of Itself (2020)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) One of my pandemic hobbies has been to learn a lot more about magic — specifically, the tricks of the trade, advice to magicians, elementary card tricks (including how to cheat) and the basic elements of most magical performances. You don’t need to be worried about me being a pest the next time we meet — I don’t have the patience, the training time or the drive to become even an amateur magician. But learning about how the tricks are performed has led me to one big conclusion: Magic is not as much about the trick as the patter surrounding the tricks and the atmosphere in which people want to believe the trick. There won’t be a better illustration of this as In & Of Itself, a filmed version of the intimate off-Broadway show that Derek DelGaudio performed 552 times (we’re told) in Manhattan from 2017 to 2018. Calling it a magic show is both true and appropriately deceptive because DelGaudio creates an elaborate narrative frame around the dozen illusions he performs, and does so with disarming charm, getting closer to his audience in order to pull the rug from under them. A superior card trick is placed within the frame of a biographical episode in which he’s warned about the dangers of appearing to cheat at cards. A prodigious feat of memorization is placed within the frame of defining identities for ourselves. It’s a heady mix of philosophical references, storytelling, personal recollections delivered in a raw manner, a sense of continuity from show to show, and creating an electrifying atmosphere for the live audience that translates surprisingly well to the screen. (Director Frank Oz, who helped stage the live show, effectively uses duplicated footage from several shows in order to give screen audiences an idea of how the same effect played out over several performances.)  It’s all very effective, largely because of everything surrounding the illusions — I’m relieved that DelGaudio isn’t a cult leader, because I could recognize several of the techniques used to manipulate small audiences into fast intimacy and frenzies of belief. Still, as a show, it’s quite a show. The painstakingly crafted illusions are delivered effectively (even in throwaway bits, such as the visual shocker at the very end) and while I suspect that I know how many of the tricks were performed in a general sense, that takes nothing away from what remains a great performance piece.

  • The Long Good Friday (1980)

    The Long Good Friday (1980)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Criterion Streaming, March 2021) As with many gangster films, The Long Good Friday doesn’t do anything new, but it does it with some style and period flourish. Definitely a product of the late 1970s, it’s a gangster narrative set in London, featuring intrusions by the IRA and prescient ideas about the place of London as the financial capital of Europe. The standout performances here are from Bob Hoskins as a gangster trying to transform himself into a respectable businessman, as well as a young and attractive Helen Mirren as his girlfriend. Barrel-shaped Hoskins is well-suited to the role in all of his charm and inherent menace. Mirren doesn’t have as much to do in a more conventional role, but it’s a welcome reminder of the stone-cold fox she was in her early years. The gritty atmosphere of the film fits well with the New Hollywood aesthetics of the 1970s, even though The Long Good Friday isn’t above a few spectacular sequences when it feels like them — most notably a sequence near the end where a shootout leads to several car crashes in a lunatic comedy of errors. It does feel like a British Scorsese film at times, which is probably the best compliment we can give it nowadays. The period atmosphere is all-enveloping and the narrative moves steadily forward. In other words — The Long Good Friday may be unsurprising, but it’s a really good viewing experience made even better by Hoskin’s command over the film.

  • Turner & Hooch (1989)

    Turner & Hooch (1989)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Disney Streaming, March 2021) Coming toward the end of Tom Hanks’ first comedy-focused period, Turner & Hooch sees him paired up with a dog, in keeping with the trend at the time. He’s a policeman in a small city longing for a more exciting life, but the best he can do at short notice is getting saddled with the dog of a murder victim. A big, rough, ugly, drooling mastiff running roughshod over his carefully-organized life and apartment. Fortunately, there’s a murder case to solve, antagonists to defeat, and a cute veterinarian (Mare Winningham) to meet. In other words, you do have a good idea of where this is going, and the film does not disappoint expectations, although the ending is tweaked for a good cry. Hanks is a good sport about it all and his persona is very much in-line with his other films of the 1980s—but there’s only so much he can do with such conventional material. Turner & Hooch is not unpleasant to watch (I remembered the opening scene from a previous viewing decades ago, for instance), but it’s not a film built for maximum comic potential if you’re not in the target audience for wacky ugly dog antics. Looking at the film’s production history, I see that there’s finally confirmation that the original director, Henry Winkler, was fired thirteen days into the production due to conflicts with Hanks (really!?!) and that’s how Roger Spottiswoode ended up credited as director. No matter the off-screen drama, that result on-screen is somewhat innocuous, and certainly more intended toward kids than the rest of the family.

  • Foxy Brown (1974)

    Foxy Brown (1974)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) For a screen legend such as Pam Grier, it’s surprising to realize that her famous early starring period was quite short — half-a-dozen films with American Pictures International from 1973 to 1975, after which the blaxploitation movement lost steam and so did her career. I’m sad to report that, in seeing Foxy Brown, I’m now left with one less of her films to discover. That sadness is somewhat offset by how, even though Foxy Brown is widely acknowledged as one of her better-known roles, it’s a bit of a step down from her slightly-more polished turn in Friday Foster. Here, she’s a grieving woman seeking revenge on drug dealers for shooting down her boyfriend. Her character also gets treated much rougher here than in other films: Disrobed, captured, drugged, raped and manipulated by the script in order to set up the revenge fantasy of the film’s final minutes, it’s far more clearly an exploitation film than Friday Foster was. Foxy Brown does represent that darker side of blaxploitation: while it features black characters proudly presenting themselves as part of black culture, it’s also rife in gory violence, sexual abuse and a lack of higher moral aspirations than revenge. The film can’t escape the gawking aspect of white filmmakers presenting black culture, and has aged a bit more poorly due to how Grier’s character is treated throughout. (Both Coffy and Friday Foster do better in that regard.)  Still, well, it is a film featuring Pam Grier from beginning to end, and she is, in the words of one character, “a whole lotta woman” — great period outfits, impeccable attitude and unarguable physical attributes make her a treat to watch (except when she’s being thrown in the deep end of the film’s exploitation pool of horrors). There are better Pam Grier films, but there aren’t a lot of them, so Foxy Brown still ends up as mandatory viewing for fans of the actress… even if they may regret it at times.

  • The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad (1949)

    The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad (1949)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Disney Streaming, March 2021) Like most of Disney Animation Studio’s 1940s output, The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad is a feature-film-length collection of shorter segments — the 35 minutes The Wind in the Willows featuring Mr. Toad (from the novel by Kenneth Grahame) and The Legend of Sleepy Hollow from the short story by Washington Irving. While I’d be willing to bet that what most people remember from this film is that terrifying shot of the pumpkinhead being thrown at the camera (a shot so good that it became the featured trailer stinger for Tim Burton’s 1999 live-action adaptation), the entire film is far funnier than you’d expect. The first segment, featuring Mr. Toad, is a compelling character study of a remarkable eccentric, while the second makes far more mileage out of Ichabod being a comic character than you’d expect from its sombre set-piece. The animation is quite impressive throughout—featuring a steady amount of physical comedy, and often technically superior to some of Disney’s later features of the 1960s–1980s. It’s pleasant to hear Basil Rathbone narrate the first segment and Bing Crosby narrates the second, with some crooning on the side. There’s some weirdness throughout, though: in-keeping with its production date, the gender roles are dated, and there’s a curious moment in which an overweight girl is meant to be shown as unattractive, which doesn’t match what we’re seeing. Still, The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad is quite effective, and for Disney historians it’s yet another reminder of the dire straits in which the studio found itself during the 1940s. Fun for the entire family, it stands above most of the Disney anthology films of the era as well.

  • The Comic (1969)

    The Comic (1969)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) There’s a lot to like in The Comic for fans of early silent comedy — with Dick Van Dyke playing a silent comedian struggling to stay relevant in a world moving forward, the film ends up being a melancholic take on the careers of people such as Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd, whose careers never quite adapted to the sound era. Still, let’s not read too much into the film’s character as a version of those two — the protagonist here is a terrible person marginally made tolerable by a talent for a very specific kind of physical comedy that became far less popular after the end of silent cinema. The rest of the film, narrated from the casket, doesn’t get any better for him — divorce follows his adultery, his son disappears from his life and a trip to Europe doesn’t improve his fortune at all. It’s not hard to understand why Dick Van Dyke is perfect for the role, as he plays the slapstick perfectly in silent film sequences faithfully re-created by writer/director Carl Reiner — aside from the too-good visual quality, you’d swear those were real silent films. There’s also quite a bit of more dramatic material for Van Dyke to play, as his character just keeps digging himself deeper into a hole and refuses to move on with the times while alienating everyone who does. (This is where the Keaton comparisons most definitely end — Keaton’s fall from grace had more to do with a bad contract that led to many damaging outcomes, such as alcoholism: he otherwise kept working until his death, including as a gagman to MGM and a mentor to younger comedians such as Red Skelton.)  This is another entry in the sad-films-about-comedians subgenre but it’s not entirely glum nor unjustified: the lead character is not admirable outside his performances, and the entire film feels closer to tragedy than humiliation. The post-mortem narration does help take the edge off, obviously, although I don’t think that the film quite closes the loop on that. Still, while The Comic is not as funny an experience as many would like (the final shot is a big sad statement), there’s quite a bit here for fans of Van Dyke, Reiner or silent cinema to chew on.

  • A Kiss in the Dark (1949)

    A Kiss in the Dark (1949)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) Short and perfunctory, A Kiss in the Dark works best as a showcase for David Niven and Jane Wyman, as he plays a concert pianist who discovers he’s the owner of a slightly dilapidated apartment building in Manhattan. Investigating the situation, he comes to meet the eccentric tenants and finds himself captivated by the cutest of them all (Wyman, obviously). As a comedy film, it runs a bit long even at 87 minutes — the narrative arcs are familiar, from the easily-resolved romantic triangle to the workaholic-no-more theme to the bellowing tenant tortured into submission. (Wait, what? Well, yes — the film does suffer from a bit of protagonist-centred morality in how a tenant is cruelly sleep-deprived. You’d argue that he had it coming by punching the protagonist in the first place, but that only raises more disturbing questions as to why the film seems so fond of its characters frequently punching each other in the face and why the police aren’t brought in for assault charges.)  This is not sophisticated stuff, although Niven’s stereotypically British persona and Wyman’s attractiveness will make anyone overlook most of the film’s flaws. It’s also fun to see Broderick Crawford in a supporting role as a cranky-and-violent antagonist. Still, there simply isn’t enough in A Kiss in the Dark (not the best title!) to stay interesting. Despite the building’s 53 tenants, the film focuses on too few of them and pads its comic scenes with too much repetition. There’s some chemistry between the leads and it’s all too likable to dislike… but this is an average comedy as best, one that just happened to star compelling performers.