Reviews

  • Vivarium (2019)

    Vivarium (2019)

    (On Cable TV, July 2020) It’s not that Vivarium is entirely without promise—as the film starts, it quickly creates the off-kilter dreamlike aesthetics it’s going for, and gets its narrative going by trapping a young couple in a house where they’re asked to raise a child delivered to their door, along with all the necessities of life. But what could have been an interesting short feature soon turns into a repetitive, irritating blob. The eerie suburban satire turns into pointless SF tragedy with the kind of cyclical ending that puts off audiences and makes them ask why the film even existed in the first place. Creepy from the start and then even progressively creepier as it advances, Vivarium is not a film aiming for a happy ending (or even much of an ending), practically begging viewers to dislike the result. Jesse Eisenberg isn’t bad as the male lead, but Imogen Poots gets the much better role here as the film’s true protagonist. Despite a budget that occasionally shows its seams, there’s some visual style here, even with cheap but consistent special effects. While Vivarium wants to be surprising, viewers with the fortitude to make it to the end will only see a circular narrative that feels both trite and stretched-out: no character development, no happiness, no enlightenment, just Sisyphus-like futility with a different cast.

  • Nati con la camicia [Go for It] (1983)

    Nati con la camicia [Go for It] (1983)

    (In French, On Cable TV, July 2020) Since Bud Spencer and Terence Hill comedies were a staple of French-Canadian TV when I was a kid, I must have seen Go for It as a boy—and not knowing that this would be one of the last screen appearances for the duo. It is, at least, one of the bigger-budgeted of their films: enough for the Italian production crew to shoot it in Sunny Miami (although there are mountains at some point… in Florida), and for the plot (in which two not-so-respectable men are mistaken for secret agents) to string along a series of large-scale physical gags. Conceptually, some of the stuff is funny—but it’s not quite executed well enough to be even remotely plausible. (A trailer-tractor sequence, in particular, is even more inept than the rest.) As a spy film parody of sorts, Go for It takes a while to get going and it doesn’t end on much of a high note. Fortunately, Spencer and Hill have charm and a good comic rapport… but it’s not enough to overcome an air of facility and over-familiarity with the proceedings. Go for it ends up being a thoroughly mixed bag: funny in spots, implausible most of the time, and a bit cheap for the rest of it.

  • Palm Springs Weekend (1963)

    Palm Springs Weekend (1963)

    (On Cable TV, July 2020) The similarities between the 1960 teen comedy Where the Boys Are and Palm Springs Weekend are definitely not accidental—the studio saw the success of the earlier film and wanted something like that, except set on the west coast rather than in Florida. Reportedly coming up with the title before the script itself, it quickly put the film in production and focused its narrative on youngsters making their way from L.A. to Palm Spring for Easter break and the town steering itself for trouble. This was not such an unusual thing at the time—with the early Boomer generation coming into age and gradually redefining what it meant to be a college-attending young person, there was a spate of teensploitation films poking at the meaning of being young in a booming America, and hopefully driving that audience into theatres. The hijinks of the college students descending upon Palm Springs for “fun” (alcohol and hookups, really) are all rather innocent and cute, although director Norman Taurog is clearly aware of his film’s subtext and takes a rather weird shift toward darker elements near the end (with a rape attempt, a car chase, a serious car accident and police business) before getting back to the silly comedy in time for the end credits. (That darker turn does echo the earlier Where the Boys Are as well.) Some of the period detail is very interesting, though, and you can almost feel the early-1960s pop-optimism radiate through the screen.

  • Hiroshima mon amour (1959)

    Hiroshima mon amour (1959)

    (Criterion Streaming, July 2020) I am not and will never be a big fan of Hiroshima mon amour, but I have to respect a film that blends interracial romance with meditations on the nuclear bomb. Director Alain Resnais being a sober filmmaker, this is a quiet, long-running romantic drama. While the obsession with nuclear holocaust may be a reminder of the multi-decade social trauma that cold war generations endured, it’s also used in mature, subtle ways to illustrate the ongoing love story. The romantic material is universal even if highly specific to late-1950s Japan, as a French actress and a Japanese architect go through the city (with the unescapable spectre of nuclear devastation) and have a few tiffs. Appealing leads (Emmanuelle Riva and Eiji Okada) do keep our attention during a film that’s deliberately long and moody. Interesting at times, interminable at others, Hiroshima mon amour nonetheless leaves a unique impression.

  • Maurice Richard [The Rocket] (2005)

    Maurice Richard [The Rocket] (2005)

    (On Cable TV, July 2020) 1940s hockey player Maurice Richard is a French-Canadian legend, especially for Montréal Canadiens fans. Prestige biographical drama Maurice Richard mostly does justice to his memory, presenting a credible overview of his career, and the tension that existed between him and the mostly English-language NHL at the time. Charles Binamé’s sober direction lends gravitas to the result—perhaps too much at times: this sometimes feels like a heritage minute stretched over nearly two hours. (Albeit with uncharacteristic inflammatory language agitprop.) Visually, it looks almost exactly like what we imagine the 1940s to look—drab, featureless and without colour except brown. Fortunately, Roy Dupuis is not bad as Richard. Still, while Maurice Richard is respectable, it’s also slightly duller than a movie about a sports hero should be.

  • 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954)

    20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954)

    (Google Play Streaming, July 2020) We can complain at length about Hollywood blockbusters, but when they’re well made, they endure. So it is that you can still watch Disney’s adaptation of Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea today and still have fun, even as the film is in the middle of its sixth decade. There’s a lot going on here—great underwater footage, good adventure sequences, and a lavish visual design that clearly anticipates steampunk or inspired it. There’s also the cast—a dashing Kirk Douglas in the lead role, mellifluously voiced (and bearded) James Mason as Captain Nemo, and a stocky close-cropped Peter Lorre as comic relief. Of all the film’s special-effects showcases, the squid sequence remains a highlight and quite convincing still. It all comes together in a good package where its dated nature is now part of the appeal.

  • Strays aka Killer Cats (1991)

    Strays aka Killer Cats (1991)

    (In French, On Cable TV, July 2020) While Strays is very much an undistinguished made-for-TV horror-lite movie featuring a pack of killer cats, it occasionally lurches into so-bad-it’s-fun territory. The trouble begins when a prototypical family moves into an isolated house previously owned by a cat lady and the grieving cats start plotting a progressive campaign of terror against the clearly substandard new humans. It’s rather fun once the filmmakers turn desperate in showing menacing cats and throwing them on the actors as they shriek more loudly than the felines. Alas, this is no camp classic—Babylon 5’s Claudia Christian shows up in a substantial role, but disappears from the film too soon. Furthermore, the film suffers from severe padding issues, with much of the first hour just marking time for the last act, and raising a number of subplots that are not just stupid, but also useless. On the other hand, if you watch Strays’ first five minutes and skip ahead to its last half-hour, you just may get some entertainment out of it.

  • The Reluctant Astronaut (1967)

    The Reluctant Astronaut (1967)

    (On TV, July 2020) It’s not that I don’t get Don Knotts—the wild-eyed goofy shtick is timeless—but seen from the twenty-first century, it’s not all that clear why he ended up with that many starring roles in 1960s comedies. Films like mostly-forgotten curio The Reluctant Astronaut, which takes some inspiration from space-age race-to-the-moon mania to feature decidedly the un-heroic Knotts as a janitor promoted to space pioneer. It’s actually not a bad premise to match a high-profile comic actor with a topical situation (somehow, we were spared a 2010s Adam-Sandler-in-SpaceX remake). And, to be fair, Knotts understands the assignment perfectly: he plays the fool very well, and the film fits completely around his performance. If you want some comic theory, The Reluctant Astronaut is very much a film-long exploration of the clash between the sacred and the profane. Speaking of which—not-quite white-haired Leslie Nielsen plays the straight man in this silly comedy, portending his later-career turn as a comic icon. Space enthusiasts may be amused at the integration of real-life footage shot at Cape Kennedy. The story is familiar, but the historical value is rather interesting—for a dose of space-age pop optimism (the film feels closer to Kennedy-era 1960s than hippie-1960s), for how Hollywood comedies don’t change all that much throughout the decades, and perhaps even for understanding Knott’s appeal as a star.

  • Fast and Furious (1939)

    Fast and Furious (1939)

    (On Cable TV, July 2020) I was slightly mistaken in recording this Fast and Furious—I thought I was recording the 1954 Corman film—but it turns out to be a nice little surprise: a husband-and-wife amateur sleuth story very much in the vein of The Thin Man. It turns out to be the last in an MGM trilogy explicitly modelled on the more successful Powell/Loy series, except half-heartedly executed with different lead actors every time. In this instalment, Franchot Tone and Ann Sothern play the bickering couple to good effect, even though you’ll still miss William Powell in the lead. Fast and Furious is notable for having been directed by Busby Berkeley, but it does not have any of the musical numbers for which he’s best known. The resulting murder mystery is a bunch of hooey (even the characters pretty much run the gamut of suspects to exhaustion), the relationship between the characters is merely fine… and yet, it’s fun and short at merely 73 minutes. There are some good comedy moments involving summer in the city, lions in a hotel, an ex-asylum attendant, and a querulous user of in-room services. Plus, the setting being a fantasy upper-class version of the 1930s doesn’t hurt. While the 1930s had several much better films in the same amateur-sleuth genre, Fast and Furious is very satisfying even as a second-tier example of the form.

  • Yours, Mine and Ours (1968)

    Yours, Mine and Ours (1968)

    (On Cable TV, July 2020) It may be based (somewhat) on a true story, but the premise of Yours, Mine and Ours is comic gold: A widower with ten kids meets a widow with eight of her own and, well, chaos ensues. Henry Fonda plays the patriarch, Lucille Ball (aging, but still funny) the matriarch, and an ensemble cast’s worth of 18 kids fills out the rest. The film feels as if it has two halves—a more sedate beginning in which the adults get together, and then a higher comedic pace once the family moves together and modern logistics have to be used to wrestle control over a household of 20. While clearly a mainstream 1960s comedy with the expected exaggerations, minor conflicts and gags, it does have a fair amount of character development and heartfelt emotion toward the end. Yours, Mine and Ours is clearly not a great or refined film, but it does hit its comic targets. While there’s a 2005 remake that may be slicker and more attuned with modern values, this one now has a definitive historic charm to it.

  • The Vikings (1958)

    The Vikings (1958)

    (On Cable TV, July 2020) There’s certainly a spectacular aspect to The Vikings that makes it interesting to watch: Kirk Douglas going toe-to-toe with a bearded Tony Curtis as they debate the leadership of a Viking colony. Made at a time when historical epics were trying to lure audiences away from the TV, it has lavish production values and some credible outdoor scenes and combat—with longboats! Plus: Ernest Borgnine and Janet Leigh looking a bit weird in non-contemporary setting. It may not be as well-remembered as some of the Roman epics of the time, and the lack of big Viking movies lately is a bit of a wonder by itself (wasn’t the latest one the motion-captured Beowulf from 2007?) Still, let’s not overstate things: The Vikings is not that interesting and even gawking at the stars in unusual turns or the scenery isn’t quite enough to make up for the tepid pacing and overall lack of interest in plot or dialogue. Fortunately, director Richard Fleischer creates a lot of bombast here to keep things afloat.

  • Uno sceriffo extraterrestre… poco extra e molto terrestre [The Sheriff and the Satellite Kid] (1979)

    Uno sceriffo extraterrestre… poco extra e molto terrestre [The Sheriff and the Satellite Kid] (1979)

    (In French, On Cable TV, July 2020) Days after watching its sequel, here is The Sheriff and the Satellite Kid to make it all make sense. No, that’s not true—Bud Spencer family movies are not exactly mazes of deceptive plotting, and so this is pretty much getting in 95 minutes what was summarized in the first moments of the sequel. It’s not much more than a cute kids’ adventure featuring Spencer acting as a teddy-bear sheriff protector to an alien incarnated as a likable boy. There’s nothing deep or challenging here, but it can be watched readily enough thanks to Spencer’s fuzzy-bear charm. The numerous comic stunts and silly fights find their intended public. Don’t go looking for Science Fiction in this comedy film chasing Close Encounters of the Third Kind box office numbers. Things are made slightly weirder thanks to the comical use of an alien gadget—and also for having the very Italian Spencer play an American sheriff in Georgia. This being said, the budget for The Sheriff and the Satellite Kid is visibly low, so don’t expect a polished presentation even by 1979 standards. At least it thrives on a rough kind of authenticity.

  • Framing John DeLorean (2019)

    Framing John DeLorean (2019)

    (On Cable TV, July 2020) The premise of Framing John DeLorean (“Why hasn’t there been no movie about John DeLorean given the dramatic elements that it contains?”) is now dated since the release of 2018’s Driven (featuring Lee Pace as DeLorean), but that doesn’t stop the film from being a compulsively watchable overview of DeLorean’s life from his heydays at GM to the aftermath of his bankruptcy and legal proceedings. The intelligible and absorbing talking-head format is considerably enlivened by fictional recreations of events featuring a heavily made-up Alex Baldwin happily delving into the role, and another excuse to see a glamorous Morena Baccarin on-screen as DeLorean’s wife. Unusually enough, there’s quite a bit of footage about the making of those sequences, and the actors are asked to expand upon their thoughts on the character they play… which works better than expected. Interview subjects include his kids (who are not happy about the way their family was destroyed by his hubris), Back to the Future producer Bob Gale to talk about the cultural impact of the film on DMC, and various people who were involved in the company at the time. The film pulls no punches in highlighting that even if DeLorean was not sent to prison, he still lost his company, his Fifth-Avenue Manhattan residence and his family, and ended up living the last few years of his life in a one-bedroom apartment. I liked Framing John DeLorean quite a bit more than Driven—it’s more entertaining, far more detailed, significantly more even-handed in its depiction of the character and delves into a fun metafictional game, as it allows Baldwin and others to influence DeLorean’s fictional depiction. The ultimate impact, however, does remain one of a classical tragic downfall—arrogance leading to bad luck leading to a desperate attempt to save it all that backfired.

  • Hamilton (2020)

    Hamilton (2020)

    (Disney Streaming, July 2020) Like everyone else, I couldn’t escape the critical acclaim for Hamilton the musical back in 2015–2016. Still, it took me a surprisingly long time to have a listen at the soundtrack. My reaction to the songs of Hamilton was very much in-line with everyone else: Holy Washington, this is really good. The blend of historical material (even acknowledging the deviations from reality—Broadway is no place for historical accuracy) with catchy modern music made for an addictive experience, and my expectations ran high for a professional recording of the show given the high unlikeliness of seeing (or being able to see, of being able to afford to see) the show live, especially after the end of its initial run. The announcement that the recording would be released on digital to coincide with Independence Day was a rare bit of good news in an otherwise dismal 2020. My expectations ran high as I settled down to stream the film, and even they were amply exceeded. Seeing the show adds an extra dimension in the songs and my typically non-hyperbolic self feels justified in labelling this as a work of genius. Much of the credit goes to Manuel-Lin Miranda, whose book, music and lyrics are perfectly executed. I’m not that familiar with live theatre, so much of the typical touches of the form (the ensemble, the musical quotes, the staging) feel fresh and inspired, and make perfect sense in reinforcing the aspirational fantasy of the content. While Miranda couldn’t have done a better job in creating the show, its interpretation rests on a strong cast with few weak points. Leslie Odom Jr. is particularly good as Aaron Burr (to the point of barely feeling like a villain despite, well, shooting the protagonist), Jonathan Groff is a comic highlight as King George III, and Renée Elise Goldsberry is spectacular. Other players get their spotlight in the second act: Daveed Diggs is very funny in a pair of Francophile roles, Phillipa Soo gets more attention as the story goes on and Christopher Jackson is imposing as Washington himself. The video credits are a nice touch—especially for the much-deserving ensemble. The songs I liked best on the soundtrack (My Shot, The Schuyler Sisters; You’ll be Back; Ten Duel Commandments; The Room Where It Happens) are equally good here, but the staging (and accompanying body movement, much of it sarcastic) elevates some numbers far above their audio-only component: “Satisfied” become heart-wrenching as it rewinds time, “The World Turned Upside Down” is a triumphant new favourite with rolling guitars and bombastic dancing, “What’d I Miss?” has some great comic staging, both Cabinet Battles are fantastic (they were already great as songs) and “The Election of 1800” is fun and dramatic at once. The concentric turntables are used to good effect during the duels and the eye-popping Hurricane sequence, with the dramatic climax of the entire production hinging on simulated bullet-time summation of a man’s life as he gets shot. If I’m effusive in my praise, it’s because Hamilton is a rollercoaster and I was on-board for every laugh, every cry, every killer line and dramatic twist. I strongly suspect that much of this intense reaction comes from living-in-July-2020, measuring an authentic piece of Americana at its best against the vertiginous decadence of the United States over the past few years, with an incompetent leadership embracing corruption, authoritarianism, and intentional division to the point that it cannot handle a crisis killing citizens by the tens of thousands (soon the hundreds of thousands: Oceans Rise, Empires Fall)—the exact opposite of the values embraced and demonstrated by Hamilton’s appealingly multicultural cast and moral outlook. While I’m looking forward to a cinematic version of Hamilton in a decade or so, this June 2016 live recording is a striking time capsule and a reminder that many Americans do have their heart in the right place. As we wait for an end to the current catastrophe, Hamilton couldn’t have come at a better time—and despite not being much of a movie in traditional terms, it looks as if it’s going to be in the running for best-of-year contention. I would be surprised if I had a bigger emotional reaction this year to anything else but a landslide repudiation of the current administration on election night.

  • Two for the Road (1967)

    Two for the Road (1967)

    (On Cable TV, July 2020) There’s something very unusual in Two for the Road’s premise, as it shows the evolution of a marriage (with its ups and downs) through the conceit of following the couple along a road trip from England to the south of France—repeated five times over twelve years. The narrative jumps in time as landmarks take the couple back to their courtship, early marriage and later breakdown of the relationship. It ends up being a very satisfying romantic comedy (even if the comedy does get thin at times) about a bickering couple. While Albert Finney is good with bon mots and debonair wit, Audrey Hepburn is the star here—it’s interesting that, to portray her at her youngest, the filmmakers gave her long hair opposite her usual gamine hairstyle—and we even get to hear her speak a few lines of French as well. There are a few dramatic moments later on, but this being a comedy reassures that it will conclude on a sunny note. Director Stanley Donen’s approach feels unusually modern through its mixed chronology structure, which allows us to go back and forth as the characters evolve and react ironically to similar situations. The film does sport a variety of humour from the high concepts to the low physical stuff. It’s all quite fun and not overly dated except for the party scene toward the end that powerfully reminds us that it was filmed in the mid-1960s after all. While likely to be a hit with a wide audience, Two for the Road will be a special treat for Francophiles, Hepburn fans and fans of good romantic comedies.