Reviews

  • Toy Story 4 (2019)

    Toy Story 4 (2019)

    (Disney+ Streaming, December 2020) No, we did not need a Toy Story 4. The third one was already a gamble, but it also ended in such a definitive way that any attempt to follow it up would be doomed to disappointment. To be clear, Toy Story 4 is not a failure: too much effort has gone into it from seasoned professionals that it still benefits from Pixar’s usual high polish, incredible animation and storytelling prowess. But even those advantages can’t quite conceal the hollowness at the film’s reason for existing. After the high note of the third film, this one feels like another episode without a point – a detour in a bric-a-brac that makes the series’ internal mythology even more confounding, with scant justification for the hijinks along the way. The “forky” character is a thicket of existential philosophy conundrums by itself that the film isn’t interested in exploring all that deeply, and the ending is worth a shrug more than anything else. The series is close to having nothing else left to say at a higher narrative level, so it’s a relief to find that, on a beat-by-beat level, Toy Story 4 is much better: there are a few fun set-pieces, one pleasantly loopy new character (Keanu Reeves voicing a Canadian stuntman toy), decent dialogue and a continuation of characters introduced in previous instalments. But in the end, the hollowness returns as soon as the end credits are done: this wasn’t much of an essential instalment, and now that we’re apparently going forward with this, what else is going to be added to the series, perhaps forever? (I wouldn’t be opposed to a remaster of the original, though.) I’m sure Pixar will find a way, no matter whether we want it or not.

  • The Lion King (2019)

    The Lion King (2019)

    (Disney+ Streaming, December 2020) Live-action or animated? Useless or interesting? A marvel or a disgrace? A step forward or backward? Yes to all of that. Another entry in Disney’s continued hall of recycled shame, the 2019 version of The Lion King applies the “live action” treatment to the 1994 film in looks only: nearly the entire film is computer-animated, albeit with the intention of making it look as real as possible. From a narrative standpoint, though, it’s practically the same thing: The film lifts the entire narrative structure from the original, tweaking a few things around for polish but still adding thirty more minutes to the original running time. Capable voice actors give recognizable performances, but none of this erases the impression of having seen it all already. Directed by Jon Favreau as a version of The Jungle Book on steroids, I suppose that The Lion King is a new high-water mark in computer animation: now so good that it feels as if most of the film is live-action. I also suppose that it’s a new step toward the self-cannibalization of movies into a hollow shell of themselves. But the film made billions, so away merrily into the shell we go. If you can’t feel my enthusiasm, it’s because I haven’t got any.

  • The Wave (2019)

    The Wave (2019)

    (On Cable TV, December 2020) I’m sure this has happened a couple of times to the most partygoing readers of these reviews: after finding a way for his company to avoid a $4M insurance payout, a young executive goes partying, does drugs, and finds himself hopscotching between parallel universes and time-travelling back and forth in time, along with demonic visions of reality. No? Hmm. Well, at least that’s what happens to Justin Long’s protagonist in genre blender The Wave. Probably science fiction, slightly comic in a dark way, clearly confusing and perhaps even a moralistic tragedy in thriller clothing, this is a film whose potential exceeds its ability to deliver. The plot doesn’t quite make sense even when explained, but the way there has a few good moments of confusion, scene-switching, hallucinations and temporal blips. It’s fun, but looking back, it could and should have been even more twisted – there is a sense that director Gille Klabin and screenwriter Carl W. Lucas, perhaps held back by a low budget, are just scratching the surface of the premise they stumbled upon. On the other hand, Long is pretty good here: he’s growing wilder and more interesting in his choice of projects over the past few years. Alas, he doesn’t get a perfect showcase in The Wave, which grows less satisfying in the final reveal and can’t quite reconcile its tonal multiplicity. Ah well – at least it’s a fun trip while it lasts.

  • Little Women (1949)

    Little Women (1949)

    (On Cable TV, December 2020) When it comes to the multiple adaptations of Little Women, it’s not as useful to say, “That’s the 1949 one” as much as “that’s the Elizabeth Taylor one” or maybe “that’s the June Allyson one,” considering that Jo is usually the main character of the tale. But it’s also “the one with Peter Lawford, Margaret O’Brien, Janet Leigh and Mary Astor” considering that casting is the most spectacular aspect of how each version is perceived. With the 1949 version, I’ve now seen the fourth of the four major adaptations of the tale as of 2020. If it most closely resembles the 1933 (“Hepburn”) one, it’s no accident – it’s essentially using the same script and score, albeit with a significant upgrade in colour cinematography. It plays more as lighthearted(ish) comedy than the others – fewer reconsiderations about the role of women than later versions, not quite as dramatically weighty as the earlier version. Still, it’s a pretty good time with the March sisters – the technical aspects of the production are MGM-grade, which is to say as good as these things were in 1949. A young Taylor is a huge draw despite a lack of attention to her character – in retrospect, there’s a clear lack of balance between her Allyson in matters of starpower. The first half of the film is generally more fun than the second, but it all evens out when compared to the other version, which you absolutely should do in order to get the most out of your viewing. My recommendation: Watch them in chronological order of production so that you get the most out of the growing technical polish of the form.

  • Mexican Spitfire’s Elephant (1942)

    Mexican Spitfire’s Elephant (1942)

    (On Cable TV, December 2020) Seventh and penultimate episode in the Mexican Spitfire series, Mexican Spitfire’s Elephant isn’t one of its finest instalments – and knowing that this was the third film of the series to be released in 1942 does suggest why it feels like just another episode. Pretty much everything that has made the series is repeated here – Lupe Velez’s fast-paced, carefully mangled dialogue; Leon Errol’s dual role/impersonation; the Spitfire’s long-suffering husband; and deliberately goofy situations to heighten the face and slapstick. Yes, an elephant does get brought in at some point and it’s the highlight of the 64-minute film, which also features Velez singing two songs in this instalment’s cabaret club. While Velez is the draw, Errol remains the funniest performer here. If you’re a fan of the series so far, this is an easy if familiar watch. Still, there’s a strong feeling that Mexican Spitfire’s Elephant is repeating previous instalments, that the lemon is being squeezed too dry and that the series is running its course. Accordingly, the next episode, Mexican Spitfire’s Blessed Event, would be the last.

  • A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood (2019)

    A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood (2019)

    (Amazon Streaming, December 2020) I understand why the world makes us cynics (I’m Gen-X; while we didn’t invent cynicism, we’re pretty good at it,) but it’s not a bad idea once in a while to stop and ask ourselves if there’s another way. I had limited exposure to Fred Rogers in my youth, but discovering him as an adult may be an even bigger revelation – his incredibly earnest, vulnerable approach to the human condition is enough to make anyone wonder – is this guy for real? Is it even possible to be this uncynical, or does it hide something else? This turns out to be one of the key pieces of A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, a Rogers biopic that has to navigate a tricky path between describing Rogers, not falling prey to easy contrarianism and trying not to repeat the 2018 documentary Won’t You be My Neighbour? too much. Structurally, the film avoids making Rogers the protagonist, and instead follows the adventure of a journalist who thinks of himself as too cool for Rogers – only for Rogers to become the antagonist, the one breaking down the main character and rebuilding him for the better. Tom Hanks is an almost perfect fit for playing Rogers: With the weight of his filmography as a nice guy and a generally irreproachable personal life, Hanks roughly occupies a similar cultural space as Rogers. Director Marielle Heller has a few tricks up her sleeve here – presenting a film that struggles with the possibility that Roger may, in fact, exactly be what he appears to be despite an almost-childish desire to find otherwise (with a few darker sequences to shock viewers); and borrowing a few powerful moments from the documentary within a narrative structure. It’s all quite impressive: the film’s tough armour is gradually whittled away until a state of guilelessness is achieved, and the impact is quite something. Maybe the carapace we carry can be taken off from time to time.

  • Anna (2019)

    Anna (2019)

    (Amazon Streaming, December 2020) Every storyteller has their favourite archetypes, and based on the evidence I’m sure that writer-director Luc Besson’s go-to is that of a female assassin. (Also one much younger than he is – and that’s been known for a while.) Anna is something like the seventh dip into that kind of character after, …let’s see…, Nikita, Point of No Return, Leon (split archetype), Bandidas (somewhat), Colombiana and Lucy (sort of). It’s probably the dullest of the lot, too. Our heroine is a product of the Soviet assassin training program who finds herself in Paris living the life of a supermodel by day, assassin by night. Turning to become a double agent, she really is fighting for her freedom to disappear. The rest is action sequences, tough-person posturing, an enjoyable turn from Helen Mirren, some standard spy fiction tropes, and reasonably energetic direction. Anna is an unobjectionable time killer, although the tortured timeline filled with flashbacks and skip-forwards is better suited to mathematical exam questions than casual watching. I’m not that susceptible to Slavic blondes like Sasha Luss, but she does generally well, and is supported by the likes of Luke Evans and Cillian Murphy. Besson-as-director can deliver the strict minimum (and occasionally a bit more, like the restaurant scene) but I’m not seeing any evidence of trying to become any better. (And with recent affirmations of his terrible behaviour, it’s not clear if he’ll get to direct another film any time soon.) If he does write something else, let’s hope he tries to do something different than another female assassin.

  • Scoob! (2020)

    Scoob! (2020)

    (On Cable TV, December 2020) As a staunch Scooby-Doo traditionalist and Velma enthusiast, it was practically preordained that I would not be particularly happy with modern reboot Scoob! – in my kind of Scooby-Doo, the answer is always rational and the series exists in a mysteriously dystopian world filled with abandoned run-down properties. This shiny new animated reboot, though, is up to the tastes of the times – meme humour, hip references, Marvel-style quipping, pop-hit soundtrack, attempts to stretch to the limits of its metaverse (in this case, the Hanna-Barbera cartoon characters) and a clear intention to set up a franchise. The opening segment, taking us to the origin story of Mystery Inc., is not bad at all and gives false hopes that the rest of the film will keep up that level of energy and wit. After that, though, it gets steadily downhill: The plot gets more complex without becoming any better, the stylistic similarities keep reaching for modern animated films rather than Scooby-doo-specific quirks, Velma isn’t featured, and everything sort of fades into a generic film that happens to have a dog in it. To be clear, I didn’t exactly dislike Scoob! – I just found it getting increasingly mediocre, and less specific to what makes Scooby Doo so interesting. It’s watchable, although keeping interest is increasingly difficult.

  • Chasse-Galerie aka Chasse-Galerie: la légende (2016)

    Chasse-Galerie aka Chasse-Galerie: la légende (2016)

    (On TV, December 2020) If there’s one folk tale that exemplifies historic French-Canadian culture, it’s la Chasse-Galerie. A story of lumberjacks making a deal with the devil to fly home in a canoe to see their family (and getting away with it), it blends Québec’s image of itself as a country of hard workers, vast natural expanses, innate bon vivants, fealty to religious icons and yet having the wily cleverness to beat the devil at his own deal. (At least in the versions of the tale I like best.) It’s one part of French-Canadian culture that I enthusiastically claim as part of my cultural heritage, and it brings me great joy to see it on the big screen as Chasse-Galerie, a big-budget film with a lavish recreation of historial period and the special-effect budget to do justice to the tale. Now, of course, this is not the canonical tale – such a film would be over in about fifteen minutes. No, this one fleshes out the legend by adding characters, motivations, backstory, specific motivations and everything else – including a generation-before prologue to further shore up the film’s distinct take. Is all of this necessary? Absolutely not, especially when it makes the film reach an unnecessary 106 minutes. But if you see it as a variation on the tale, executed to today’s specific tastes, then the film does become better. Still, it misses some of its marks by being too formal: with so much emphasis placed on characters, we get away from the myth itself. Director Jean-Philippe Duval does manage to find a few good moments, especially when the canoe takes flight and the fantasy aspects finally take their places. Perhaps this means that we’ll get another version of the tale in a generation, and I’m all for it. Until then, this Chasse-Galerie is perfectly serviceable, even when it meanders. Also: Having the Devil speak with an English accent may not be nice… but it is hilarious.

  • The Soul of America (2020)

    The Soul of America (2020)

    (On Cable TV, December 2020) With everything that’s happening at the moment, the most radical proposition in America may be that things are, in fact, pretty good. Yes, I know – I watch the news too. But The Soul of America takes the very long view to suggest that while temporary trends can feel terrible, the overall portrait of America is one of progress. Hard-won progress, not always linear progress, but progress nonetheless. Adapted from the book of the same name by historian Jon Meacham, it dips (quickly) into American History to offer a view of history as cyclical, with periods of turmoil settling into more steady progress – and right now being similar to the 1960s and 1930s in terms of angry populism and rising protests. The flaws in this argument as applied to today’s situation are obvious… at least without the benefit of hindsight: catastrophists will say that history is not always predictive and that black swans could attack tomorrow. The underprivileged will quite reasonably point out that Meacham’s viewpoint is that of someone who’s not pushed against the wall when things turn bad (cyclically or not). Cynics will be congenially unable to accept even the smallest ray of hope. (My own take is that I generally agree with Meacham, except with the proviso that America has always been a fundamentally reactionary society: Any significant push in one direction is usually countered with an opposite reaction – the gains usually take place when the pendulum slows down for the next movement.) Cinematically, The Soul of America isn’t much to look at: the visuals are polished, but they don’t call attention to themselves as much as they illustrate the points made by the film’s narration. Meacham himself is a reassuring, credible figure and he is the best advocate for his own view of American history. I’d like to believe him and, generally speaking, I do – but when you’re talking in decades, the day-to-day, year-to-year turbulence isn’t necessarily easier to take for those being shaken.

  • Astérix et la surprise de César (1985)

    Astérix et la surprise de César (1985)

    (On TV, December 2020) As far as Asterix movies are concerned, there are several ages – the Golden Age of the 1960s-1970s, with two all-time animated film classics. The Dark Ages of the first live-action versions, followed by a certain renaissance throughout the 2010s. And in between, the silver age of the 1980s-1990s animated films: clearly faithful to the albums’ tone and style, generally enjoyable but not always all that memorable. Astérix et la surprise de César is perhaps the most average film of that era – solid, competent, animated about as well as the European animation studios were capable of doing at the time, but also featureless compared to other Asterix films. While this one has the catchy “Astérix est là” song from Plastic Bertrand, it doesn’t have a lot of set-pieces worth remembering. The Roman setting feels like another day in the series, and even having Ceasar around isn’t much of a distinction considering that he usually shows up in other Asterix movies at the drop of an excuse. Still, I don’t want to be too hard on it: undistinguished can still be pretty good considering the average level of that era’s Asterix films, and so Astérix et la surprise de César remains enjoyable to watch… even if you may be fuzzy on the details a few days later.

  • Four Kids and It (2020)

    Four Kids and It (2020)

    (On Cable TV, December 2020) A kids’ fantasy film so lightweight that it flies away as soon as it’s over, Four Kids and It looks and feels like a TV movie that somehow stumbled upon a promising cast. The story is about what happens when four kids in a newly blended family discover a mysterious beach creature with the power of making wishes real. Complications accumulate as they explore the limits of that power, and when a local aristocrat has designs on the creature. There are some interesting names in the cast: Michael Caine voicing the creature, Paula Patton and Matthew Goode as the parents of the blended family, and (sigh) Russell Brand as the villain. The special effects are generally acceptable, and the film has enough budget to indulge in its script’s flights of fancy. But there are too many problems to discount: Patton and Goode are saddled with unlikable characters that they can’t fix, while the kids are even more obnoxious than the parents. Brand seems to be playing in a film aimed at an older and more irony-appreciating audience, and the film doesn’t have enough plot to cover it 110 minutes. In the end, Four Kids and It feels like slot-filling TV: it exists because it’s cheap and fulfills some basic programming imperative, but could have been replaced by just about anything even remotely similar.

  • Housesitter (1992)

    Housesitter (1992)

    (In French, On TV, December 2020) As the 1980s became the 1990s, Steve Martin’s film career turned from absurd high-concept comedy into a safer, far more mainstream comic fare. In this lens, Housesitter is early evidence of a process that would eventually lead to Cheaper by the Dozen 2. Martin plays an architect who, after designing the ideal house, gets his heart broken and has a one-night stand that results into something much more complicated when she moves into the house and starts saying that she’s his wife. It sounds slightly creepy but the script, as directed by Frank Oz, is about as innocuous as it comes. It helps that Martin is playing opposite a perfectly charming Goldie Hawn, and a gallery of supporting characters out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Martin plays the straight man here, reacting to Hawn’s antics more than acting. The story itself is fair, but the restraint through which it’s executed is almost overbearing – Housesitter is a film that plays it incredibly safe, and could have benefited from a bit more comic audacity. But Martin’s career, as shown here and later films, has been a steady retreat into more broadly accessible fare – still funny, if less so.

  • Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (2019)

    Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (2019)

    (Amazon Streaming, December 2020) I’m not quite as positive about Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark as I want to be, but it’s better than what most people would expect. Adapting a few books of short stories about which I have zero knowledge nor attachment, the film surprisingly doesn’t take the anthology route – instead, it mixes and matches several pieces of the books into things that happen to the characters when they read a cursed book, effectively introducing a whole meta-fictional “stories coming to life” aspect to it all. (This is not dissimilar to the recent Goosebumps movies either) Also notable is the film’s decision to set itself in the 1960s, and the substantial effort required to make this period setting credible. Special effects are not bad, and I do admire the film’s decision to remain within a PG-13 rating – partly in recognition of the books / film’s target audience, but also, it feels, as a game by the filmmakers to see how far they could push without getting to an R rating. The teenage actors at the middle of the film don’t do too badly, and director André Øvredal’s visual sense is pretty good, especially by the standards of introductory teen horror. And yet, and yet – even in exceeding expectations, I found Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark a bit dull despite its qualities. The narrative density seems low, and the entire thing doesn’t stick in mid very much after the end credits. This doesn’t make it a bad film, but I wish there was just a little more to it than there is now.

  • Midway (2019)

    Midway (2019)

    (Amazon Streaming, December 2020) The nice thing about director Roland Emmerich taking on a World War II movie is that we know what we’re going to get. Even from the title and the opening recreation of the Pearl Harbor attack, Midway’s shape quickly snaps into focus: First, the introduction of the characters through America’s humiliation, and then (after some character “development”), a vengeful final half almost entirely preoccupied with an hour-long recreation of the titular battle as an action sequence. The flaws and qualities of the film are very Emmerichian – he can do a maximalist rendition of the material he’s given, make it fun to watch, and orchestrate a good special-effects showcase… but he’s not going to rewrite dramatic material to higher standards, push his actors into doing more than the strict minimum, or weave in complex visual themes or stylistic direction. So, what you get with Midway is what you can expect from Emmerich’s Midway: A middling script but executed rather well when it comes to the action/CGI bits. Surprisingly, I liked it– I wasn’t going to the film for a history lesson (although I gather that the film is surprisingly more historically accurate than expected once you discount the enthusiastic CGI) and as a WW2 action movie, Midway is very enjoyable. The old-school moral values of the film (honour, duty, country) are generally admirable, especially if you’re looking for a modern re-skin of classic WW2 movies. No, Midway isn’t that remarkable – but I enjoyed when stuff blows up real good.