Reviews

  • The Girl from Mexico (1939)

    The Girl from Mexico (1939)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2021) It’s interesting to go back to The Girl from Mexico after watching a handful of the titles in the Mexican Spitfire series that followed. As the origin tale of the series, it’s often markedly different from the formula that evolved in later instalments. For one thing, there isn’t quite as much emphasis on Lupe Velez: As a way to introduce white-American audiences to an unfamiliar ethnic character, this first instalment places a lot of emphasis on Donald Woods as the young white male photogenic protagonist who brings the “Mexican Spitfire” to America, only to be seduced by her wild ways. In the grand scope of the series, his is largely a transitory character: his narrative purpose fulfilled, the character gradually recedes in the background of the ongoing series, to the point of being played by two other different actors in the span of five years. What is most visibly absent from this first episode are the dual roles later played by Leon Errol: While his “Uncle Matt” is definitely present as a supporting role, much of the film introduces the close friendship he has with Velez’s hot-tempered character, and sets up the complicity that would come to the forefront during the rest of the series. Errol’s alter ego “Lord Epping” is entirely absent from this first film, which clearly sets it apart from the overuse of the impersonation plot device common to all other instalments. The result, when considered as its own film, is counter-intuitive: While The Girl from Mexico does work well as its own standalone film, it’s more evenly paced than its predecessors and, in some ways, more forgettable as well: the comic set-pieces aren’t as striking as some of the later movies, but it doesn’t rely on the increasingly repetitive formula of the series either. On the other hand, Velez is just as attractive and funny as later instalments (albeit perhaps less practised—I don’t think she was comfortable enough here for set-pieces such as the “Mexican wildcat” scene of the markedly inferior Mexican Spitfire Sees a Ghost, for instance). It goes without saying that it’s an essential film for anyone who likes Velez or the later Mexican Spitfire series—although I’d have trouble recommending more than three of the seven subsequent films, so clearly do they repeat more or less the same jokes all over again.

  • Jean de Florette (1986)

    Jean de Florette (1986)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, January 2021) If you want to talk about the big guns of 1980s French cinema, Jean de Florette imposes itself as a must-see: As the first half of a massive project (along with sequel Manon des sources) going back to early-20th-century Provence as a backdrop to a melodramatic tale of deception and revenge, it features lush cinematography, big stars and the approval of the French establishment. Adapted from a book written by no less than Académie Française member Marcel Pagnol, it seemingly spares no expenses going back in time to a small village where water is a scarce commodity. Gérard Depardieu stars as a family man coming back to his deceased mother’s farm with big plans to raise rabbits. But that plan depends on having access to water, and as luck would have it, the locals have other plans: Distrustful of the educated, optimistic outsider, two of them conspire to hide an invaluable spring on his farm. The legendary Yves Montand capstones an illustrious career as the antagonist, with some able assistance from Daniel Auteuil as a co-conspirator. Spending two hours watching a likable protagonist’s plans being thwarted by the small-mindedness of rural locals may not be anyone’s idea of a good time, but there’s a compelling quality to the narrative; the pacing is faster than you’d expect and the film is meant to be seen as the depressing Part One of a larger work preparing for the release offered by Manon des sources. Depardieu, Montand and Auteuil each provide exceptional performances in their own way, and the setting provides the rest. Shot in a yellow/green palette punctuated by brown, it’s often a spectacular film even when abstracting the narrative. Historically, the film fits in a national strategy of exploring France’s past through movies, and it’s hard to imagine a better depiction of that time and place. (Even if, to French-Canadian ears, the accents often play as a caricature of a certain kind of Frenchman—Montand is particularly ripe for imitation.)  I was honestly surprised by Jean de Florette—I watched it out of obligation, and ended up enjoying it. (But I’m writing this after the far more engaging Manon des sources, so keep the necessity of watching both in mind.)

  • The King of Staten Island (2020)

    The King of Staten Island (2020)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2021) The very nature of comedies about unlikable people growing up is that you first have to spend some time with them prior to their learning any better. Thus, the initial hurdle with The King of Staten Island is caring enough to delve deep into the life of its protagonist, a 24-year-old Staten Island resident only too content to drift aimlessly through life, haunted by the death of his father, daydreaming about becoming a tattoo artist despite insufficient skills, and content to smoke life away with friends in dimly lit basements. It’s not much of an inspiring character, especially when he decides that it’s a good idea to tattoo a nine-year-old on the beach. But that sets in motion a number of events that, in the end, make him a better person. The film does take an additional quality once you notice that it’s directed by Judd Apatow—The King of Staten Island does feel slightly more mature than his previous films: it’s still about adult slackers, but it doesn’t go for the gross humour of its predecessors, nor the sometimes-strange pacing decisions of films such as Funny People. In other words, Apatow himself may be growing up—and while the result may not be as outright funny as previous movies, nor as distinctive, Apatow may find a way forward as a smaller-scale indie director. He’s certainly able to get good performances: Marisa Tomei is aging well in appropriate roles as the film’s most familiar name, but the film is Pete Davidson’s show, as he stars and co-wrote the semi-autobiographical script. The result is not initially all that interesting, but it improves as it goes on, and ends up settling for a perfectly acceptable tale of maturity.

  • The Long, Long Trailer (1954)

    The Long, Long Trailer (1954)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2021) Anyone would be forgiven for thinking that The Long, Long Trailer is an “I Love Lucy” movie spinoff—after all, it does star both Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz as a married couple getting into all sorts of comic situations as they travel around the country with a travel trailer, and it was released ran in the middle of their TV show’s run. But as close as it may appear, it’s its own separate thing—a way for MGM to showcase Ball and Arnaz in colour against picturesque American tourist destinations. Ball being Ball, the physical comedy is top-notch even when it’s predictable—the sequence in which she’s trying to cook inside a movie trailer was inevitable but still a lot of fun to watch. As far as the narrative goes, The Long, Long Trailer often feels like a collection of episodes inspired by a writer’s experience in the 1950s RV lifestyle, from the eye-watering complications of the initial purchase to the sense of aimlessness that not having a fixed address can create. (Indeed, even circa 2020, I can testify that one retirement course recommendation remains “Don’t sell your house to buy an RV!”)  The narrative cohesion is provided by the marital strife between the leads, culminating in a quick conclusion (made longer by a framing device) that perfunctorily ends the film on a happy but not necessarily believable note, as all of the tension factors are still present. Still, the fun of The Long, Long Trailer remains—filmed in colour (although not in bright Technicolor), it offers a look at a specific recreational form of American touring as of the mid-1950s and the performances of the leads are good enough to capture what was special about them.

  • Les compères [ComDads] (1983)

    Les compères [ComDads] (1983)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, January 2021) A few minutes into Les compères, the premise seemed familiar. A quick search confirmed my doubts: this was the original French film on which the mid-1990s Billy Crystal/Robin William vehicle Fathers’ Day was based. The starting point is distinctive enough to be noticeable: After her son goes missing, a woman separately contacts two ex-lovers with a plausible chronological claim to their paternity, and asks them to investigate. But the narrative fun begins when the two meet and realize the trick played on them. It all becomes a vehicle for comic actors, and the French version arguably does better than the American remake in using its headliners: Here we have Pierre Richard in his usual gaffe-prone neurotic persona, paired for the second time with Gérard Depardieu (younger and thinner than we’ve grown used to), who here plays a macho journalist. The rest of the film is almost immaterial—of course they’ll find it, and, of course, the point of it all is Richard and Depardieu sparring. The nature of Les compères as a vehicle means that there’s some repetitiousness to the proceedings, but that only counts as a problem if you’re not entirely happy with the two leads. Otherwise, you get what’s on the tin: Richard goofing up, Depardieu rolling his eyes and just enough plot to give us a feature-length comedy based on that interaction.

  • La chèvre [Knock on Wood aka The Goat] (1981)

    La chèvre [Knock on Wood aka The Goat] (1981)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, January 2021) French comedian Pierre Richard makes good use of his circa-1980s awkward persona in La chèvre, playing a gaffe-prone bad luck magnet asked to track down the daughter of a French politician gone missing in Mexico. We’re clearly not far from Le Grand Blond movies here (the characters are named the same and act the same yet otherwise aren’t supposed to be the same—call it an added comic flourish) but the added wrinkle at the time was pairing him with a relatively younger and definitely thinner Gérard Depardieu as a glum private detective reluctantly tagging along. Much of the comic nature of the film has to do with Richard getting into absurdly unlikely trouble and Depardieu groaning. Of course, the narrative has the comically stupid character figuring things before his more traditional partner, all the way to the unlikely goal of their partnership. La chèvre is a crowd-pleaser that succeeds at its comic goals—If you like Richard’s screen persona at the time, it’s built on his comic skills, and the addition of Depardieu provides a straight man to heighten the unlikely nature of the trouble he gets himself into (something that’s missing from many of Richard’s solo efforts). The pairing proved to be so effective that it was repeated twice more, albeit not quite so successfully. While La chèvre can’t escape a certain number of stereotypes by sending Frenchmen in Mexico, it’s not hard to watch, and it ends on a somewhat good note.

  • Little Big League (1994)

    Little Big League (1994)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, December 2020) There was clearly something in the water in Hollywood in the early 1990s about kids making it to the baseball big leagues. After 1993’s Rookie of the Year, in which a twelve-year-old with a supernaturally fast pitching arm plays for the Chicago Cubs, here is Little Big League, in which a twelve-year-old inherits the Minnesota Twins from his grandfather and names himself the general manager. While ludicrous, it’s clearly a kids’ movie designed for maximum wish fulfillment. It’s still less goofy than Rookie of the Year – as directed by Andrew Scheinman, the conflict feels more natural, there is no magical element, the kid manages rather than plays, the ending is bittersweet, and as such the film is slightly better than its 1993 predecessor. But we’re still not talking serious drama here: much of the film is spent opposing a kid’s youthful ideals of playing baseball with the harsher realities of the professional circuit’s grind. I didn’t dislike it, but given my minimal interest in baseball either now or as a kid, I can’t say that it’s specifically designed to grab me by the aspirations or nostalgia of the sport. But Little Big League is an honest family comedy, and I suppose that it’s going to reach its audience even today.

  • The Wonderful World of the Brothers Grimm (1962)

    The Wonderful World of the Brothers Grimm (1962)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, December 2020) An intriguing artifact from one of the corners of film history, The Wonderful World of the Brothers Grimm is not only a George Pal fantasy spectacle, but a rare feature film to have been shot in panoramic Cinerama – a film process that recorded and projected on three separate screens, as to immerse the audience in wraparound experience. No, the gimmick didn’t last a long time, and yes, trying to fit that to a TV screen can lead to some very strange visual artifacts. Still, it’s one of those curios made for technical appreciation as much as for plot: while the story weaves the life of the real Brothers Grimm with short fanciful interpretations of their tales, viewers may be more interested by cinematography that attempts to take advantage of the near-surround screens of the Cinerama process. Some scenes are long wide takes where the camera doesn’t move; others make a conscious effort to move through space to wow audiences. Little of this works on the small screen, but that’s fine – sometime, just seeing what The Wonderful World of the Brothers Grimm tries to do can be entertaining in itself. As for the narrative, well, it’s a clumsy, almost endearing fantasy from times where fantasy tropes literacy wasn’t as commonplace: At least, with fairytales, we’re attaching the plot devices to familiar childhood material. The stop-motion animation sequences remain impressive, while in between Barbara Eden and Yvette Mimieux, at least there’s something more than special effects to see. (Otherwise, there’s a young and sprightly Russ Tamblin playing the hero, with comic relief from a short appearance from Terry-Thomas.) I’m ambivalent about whether to recommend The Wonderful World of the Brothers Grimm as a purely narrative experience – on a TV screen, the compromises of Cinerama filmmaking make it almost impossible to watch without noticing the making of the film more than focusing on its substance. Still, even budding film historians will get a kick out of seeing an alternate future never taken for cinema.

  • Astérix chez les Bretons [Asterix in Britain] (1986)

    Astérix chez les Bretons [Asterix in Britain] (1986)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, December 2020) While not quite as much of a classic as the two 1960s animated Asterix films, Astérix chez les Bretons remains a pretty good adaptation of one of the best-known albums in the comic-book series. Obviously, stereotypes abound – and are even the film’s reason for existing as the Gauls go take a trip in England and discover two thousand years’ worth of jokes about bad food, tea, wretched syntax and rugby. (Black and Asian racism isn’t so much fun, though.) The animation is good by the standards of the 1980s, and allows the film to stick very, very close to Uderzo’s designs (which is a big deal compared to the live-action adaptations). Proudly watched in French; I can’t even imagine the mush that any translation would do to the language-related jokes. Solid film, a bit rough around the edges nowadays but still enjoyable.

  • Le règne de la beauté [An Eye for Beauty] (2014)

    Le règne de la beauté [An Eye for Beauty] (2014)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, December 2020) Writer-director Denys Arcand may be the reigning king of French-Canadian Oscar-winning movie directors (although Denis Villeneuve will get his someday), but not every single one of his films is equally important, and Le règne de la beauté ranks among the most trivial of them. Largely a story about a dull affair (woo, originality), it loses itself in pointless comments about beauty and architecture, even if the visual aspect of the film (which often takes place in Charlevoix’s natural landscapes) is a clear upgrade over Arcand’s previous work. The decent actors can’t do much with the material they’re given, because there’s simply not a whole lot there. The theme is tiresome, the treatment is pretentious and while I’m generally supportive of seeing more polished depictions of sex and nudity on-screen, it’s really not enough to make me any more sympathetic to the film in general. Sure, it’s watchable – but try to remember any specific details a few weeks later and we’ll talk.

  • The Deep (1977)

    The Deep (1977)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, December 2020) The production history of The Deep is almost more interesting than the film itself: Hot from the massive success of Jaws, author Peter Benchley’s next novel was quickly snapped up by Hollywood and turned into a summer tentpole film. Underwater filming in the newest widescreen colour format required new cameras and lighting systems, and much of the film was shot using the real actors (albeit in underwater sets requiring no deep dive). The result was… well, an acceptable thriller. The contrivances are significant (requiring criminals to take an interest in recovered WW2 morphine and one wreck lying atop another much older wreck with Spanish treasure) but the film is generally well executed. Setting counts for a lot in even run-of-the-mill thrillers, and underwater diving was a bit of a novelty at the time (although reprised a few times since then). Nick Nolte is pretty good as one of the co-leads, but Jacqueline Bisset steals the show with an opening sequence in a wet white T-shirt (an image so famous that there’s a very, very complete blog post about it). It all combines into a capable underwater thriller, perhaps not as remarkable now as it was back then, but still an entertaining-enough 1970s blockbuster film with some very good cinematography.

  • Morning Glory (2010)

    Morning Glory (2010)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, December 2020) Harrison Ford’s grumpiness is legendary enough, and it was about high time that it got a leading role. While Rachel McAdams has the leading role in Morning Glory as a news producer sent to rescue a failing morning show with warring co-anchors, it’s Ford’s magnificent crankiness that elevates the material to its cruising altitude. Bits and pieces from Patrick Wilson (as the love interest), Diane Keaton and Jeff Goldblum round off the acting highlights, but the film is perhaps at its comfiest when it dives into the mechanics of producing a morning variety show, then starts imagining nightmare scenarios when a reluctant hard-news journalist is forced to fit in that mould. Morning Glory is absolutely not supposed to be a film criticizing the media – it uses basic style-versus-substance conflict to flesh out the conventional romantic comedy material between the protagonist and her new boyfriend, with her friendship with the older newsman being the more interesting narrative strand. It’s basic crowd-pleasing mainstream filmmaking, amiable and charming, not interested in being offensive or provocative. As such, it works pretty well: the actors are all having fun, the romance ends in a good spot, Ford’s taciturn nature is channelled productively and if Morning Glory fails to be particularly memorable, at least it’s pleasant enough to watch.

  • Naked Lunch (1991)

    Naked Lunch (1991)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Youtube Streaming, December 2020) I won’t even try to explain the plot of Naked Lunch: it’s bizarre enough that it probably wouldn’t make sense anyway. But this reinterpretation of William S. Burroughs’ novel is one that relies more on scenes and visuals than overall plot for impact. What we do have here is an exterminator possibly driven to hallucinations through the bug powder dust he inhales. Or perhaps he’s a secret agent taking orders from insect-like creatures. Or maybe he’s a writer in North Africa, living in a science-fiction Interzone in-between aliens and secret operatives. Maybe he’s bisexual, or maybe insectsexual. Maybe he’s being directed by a harsh dark-haired woman, or maybe she’s just a man in elaborate disguise. Maybe he meets his dead wife’s doppelganger (albeit with a better and curlier haircut), or maybe she’s the same person. Maybe… yeah, maybe. A good cast (Peter Weller, Judy Davis, Ian Holm, Roy Scheider and, wait, is that Monique Mercure?) anchors the film in dubiously tactile reality, but don’t take anything for granted. After all, this is a film in which the protagonist’s typewriter gets an erection during a sex scene and if that doesn’t get you interested, then you were never meant to see it anyway. Under David Cronenberg’s typical direction, Naked Lunch is wonderfully weird even thirty years later – delightfully close to Science Fiction while also being recognizable as a psychological thriller if you choose to be a stick in the mud about the film’s genre affiliations. I’m glad I tried to watch the film and bounced off of it in the late 1990s – I had a much better time revisiting it now that my expectations were lowered and calibrated for maximum eccentricity. But I will admit that it’s not to everyone’s taste. Incidentally, the film inspired its perfect soundtrack three years later: Bomb the Bass’s Bug Powder Dust.

  • Awake (2007)

    Awake (2007)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Youtube Streaming, December 2020) The hook to Awake is as terrifying as it is simple: What if, during open-heart surgery, you remained awake and heard… the doctor plotting to kill you? Of course, getting to that point requires a few specific circumstances that the film is happy to set up: Young billionaire, hot girlfriend, heart-surgeon friend and domineering mother – all the ingredients for a wild thriller. To its credit, Awake understands that it’s completely preposterous, and goes even further into the madness: not content with having the character awake during his own open-heart surgery, it goes for astral projection and lets him roam the corridors of the hospital during the surgery, free to collect the clues that will explain what’s going on. Then things get kicked up another melodramatic notch, as some people realize what is going on and try to save the billionaire from a murderously conceived operation. Awake ends far closer to fantasy than to medical thriller, but it’s not a terrible ride after all. Sure, there are plenty of plot contrivances and slack moments and some annoying mid-2000s directorial tricks. But it keeps viewers’ attention throughout, and can benefit from an interesting cast, whether it’s Hayden Christensen as a billionaire, Jessica Alba as his new wife, Lena Olin as a mother more complicated than at first glance, or Terrence Howard as a heart surgeon. Awake is not that good of a movie — but it’s fun, and I’ve seen far worse mediocre ones.

  • Il était une fois les Boys [When We Were Boys] (2013)

    Il était une fois les Boys [When We Were Boys] (2013)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, December 2020) When you’ve squeezed the lemon dry on a franchise with four instalments, when the actors are becoming noticeably older than the roles they should be playing, when you’re already banking on a specific demographic, when there’s producer pressure to keep churning them out no matter what, there’s really only one solution: A prequel! After a fifteen-year run of four movies and a five-season TV series following the episodic adventures of middle-aged French-Canadian hockey fans who still play to the best of their abilities, the Les Boys franchise couldn’t really go anywhere else: by flashing back to 1967 in Il était une fois les Boys, it gets to tell an origin story and revel in the baby boomers’ near-mythical Year of Our Centenary, while keeping some of the characterization and flashing forward loudly enough to make viewers rewatch the other instalments. It works, but on a rote level: Sure, it’s nostalgic and likable, but there’s also a sense that it’s not really earning audience sympathy as much as it’s purchasing it by cultural callbacks, a tragic act break (this instalment is markedly more dramatic than the other, especially toward the end), and pointing back to the other instalments of the franchise. It’s clever in that way, I suppose: the French-Canadian film market is small, and any way to goose up box-office receipts can be fair game. At least Il était une fois les Boys seems to have been the capstone to the franchise: Seven years later, it’s still the latest word in the series.