Reviews

  • Red Heat (1988)

    Red Heat (1988)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, February 2020) On paper, Red Heat feels inevitable. Arnold Schwarzenegger was near the top of his early fame in 1988, and the idea of making good use of his accent naturally led to him playing a tough cop from behind the then-Iron Curtain. From that point on, you can almost write the rest of the film yourself, so closely does it branch out from that premise and sticks to the buddy-cop plot template. Of course, his American counterpart will be an opposite of Schwarzenegger’s polished image as a Soviet supercop—slobby, loutish, loose with the rules in ways that only Jim Belushi (also near the top of his unexplainable fame at the time) could play. Alas, inconsistent writer-director Walter Hill doesn’t quite know how to maximize the elements at his disposal: the script is a hodgepodge of predictable sequences strung together in haphazard fashion, with some curious lulls to prop up a surprisingly dull plot. Only the ending, making good use of buses for some glass-smashing action, floats above the morass that Hill serves here. There are a few good things here: Schwarzenegger is picture-perfect as a tough policeman, his character has aged fairly well as a (rare) heroic Soviet character in Hollywood movies, and Gina Gershon looks great in an ungrateful role. It’s also cool to see some footage shot in Moscow, including a saluting Schwarzenegger. Alas, Jim Belushi remains obnoxious throughout—his character being only slightly less obnoxious as the very similar one he’d play the following year in K-9. The action is often dull, the plot never sparks and the cinematography has that telltale 1980s softness. In the end, Red Heat is far more interesting as an example of the Schwarzenegger and/or buddy-cop movies of the 1980s than on its own merits.

  • An Affair to Remember (1957)

    An Affair to Remember (1957)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, February 2020) While An Affair to Remember is often hailed as one of the finest romantic movies of all time, it’s amazing to see how much it walks a very fine line between an honest romantic comedy and overcooked romantic schmaltz. The film is almost clearly divided into two halves, and as things unfolded, I ended up watching the film in two separate sessions separated by that division. The first half of the film is significantly better than the second, as a world-famous playboy meets a retired nightclub singer aboard a transatlantic liner bound for New York. Comedy and smart dialogue take precedence in this flirty first half, culminating in a cleverly unseen kiss that complicates everything for both characters, as they are already engaged to others. Faster than you can say, “Sleepless in Seattle will steal this,” they agree to meet on top of the Empire State Building six months later. It’s all funny and charming and Cary Grant can do no wrong and Deborah Kerr (despite an unflattering hairstyle) clearly shows why she was one of the best actresses of her time. Then there’s the break: the characters disembark from the ship in Manhattan, and the film loses the pressure of the seagoing setting. But that’s also the point where the film piles on the contrived obstacles, what with one character becoming paraplegic on the way to a weepy conclusion. It works largely because of the actors, because suave, charming and sophisticated Grant could make people swoon by reading the telephone book at that time of his career. It ends on a note that would be unbearable had the film starred nearly anyone else—good casting, certainly, but not-so-good screenwriting. Despite its flaws, there’s no denying that An Affair to Remember is a film to remember as well: not as a completely successful film as much as an imperfect one that succeeds despite itself based on certain very specific elements. Amusing enough, it’s directed by Leo McCarey, who also directed Love Affair, the film on which An Affair to Remember is based.

  • The Big Heat (1953)

    The Big Heat (1953)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2020) At first, I couldn’t quite see in The Big Heat why it has earned such high regard as a film noir. I mean—sure, the film opens with a murder, and there’s a cute barfly dame being antagonistic toward our protagonist… but what about that protagonist? A veteran policeman, a solid husband with a loving wife, a wonderful little girl and a happy middle-class life? Where was the real noir? I shouldn’t have asked (or should have guessed that the happy home life only highlighted what he had to lose), because by the middle of the movie the plot explodes all domestic bliss, turning our protagonist into a vengeful rogue with a gun and no badge to stop him. The barfly is dead, and an even more dangerous woman enters the picture, her face half-scarred from burns. That’s the point where The Big Heat becomes noir, turning into a two-fisted anti-corruption tale that’s well handled through unobtrusive direction by Fritz Lang. It gets noirer the longer it goes on, culminating in an action-filled climax where all the pieces have a role to play. Glenn Ford is simply perfect as the lead character, with some able support from Gloria Grahame as a vengeful moll and Lee Marvin as the Big Boss. While the story clearly harms its protagonist, the ending offers a semi-unusual return to normalcy for him as he picks up the badge again. Noir rarely allows for the possibility of it being a detour into madness, but The Big Heat was a late-period entry in the genre, and remains successful largely because it does not clearly begin nor end in typical fashion.

  • The Lady Eve (1941)

    The Lady Eve (1941)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2020) I’m slowly starting to understand what film enthusiasts mean when they point at writer-director Preston Sturges’ extraordinary 1938–1944 run. The Lady Eve remains a spectacular film by any standards, and yet it’s only one of the four Sturges movies from the period often mentioned as an all-time comedy classic. In some ways, the premise feels familiar: the grafter taking aim at a wealthy target for purely monetary objectives, only to fall in love along the way. But there are twists and turns here that complement a well-executed delivery. It certainly helps that Henry Fonda is very likable as a hapless romantic lead, a bookish scientist who falls for Barbara Stanwyck’s scheming seducer. If Stanwyck has been sexier or funnier in any other movie, please tell me, because this is a classic performance—her opening sequence, as she provides colour commentary on seduction attempts on her target, says it all. The duo has a pair of very funny seduction sequences—first an unbroken shot of Henry with his head on her lap, and then later on a barn conversation interrupted by a curious horse. The film’s conventional first half leads to an unexpected turn midway through, and then even more comic sequences later on. Deftly mixing top-notch dialogue (you can quote that movie all day long) with physical comedy and absurd situations, The Lady Eve is indeed a screwball comedy classic, and a very good showcase for Fonda, Stanwyck and Sturges. This is what we mean when we say that they don’t make them like this anymore.

  • Battling Butler (1926)

    Battling Butler (1926)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2020) There are good Buster Keaton movies and funny Buster Keaton movies and the relationship between the two isn’t as clear cut as one would guess. The General is perhaps his most narratively successful film, but it’s got comparatively fewer laughs than many others. Conversely, Steamboat Bill, Jr. has a lot of great comic set-pieces, but a fairly dull story. Some films do manage both (Sherlock, Jr. is as good as the mixture gets), but Battling Butler clearly errs on the side of fewer-laughs-better-story. The premise is suitably ridiculous, with a pampered rich-boy protagonist (Keaton, in a familiar naïf role) blurring the distinction between him and a similarly-named boxer in order to win the romantic affections of a girl he just met. “Buster Keaton” and “glamping” aren’t words that seem to go together, but they’re a good description of the film’s first act, with numerous gags about trying to maintain an upper-class lifestyle in the woods. Then it’s off to the film’s main plot, as Keaton has to become a boxer in order to impress a young woman. The chuckles are there, but the film remains distinctively less impressive than its comic highlights. Fortunately, though, the buildup to a dramatically satisfying ending is handled with skill, and the conclusion is quite heartwarming in its own way. Keaton remains the highlight of the film, although Snitz Edwards does get a bit of attention as a valet and Sally O’Neil makes for a lovely heroine along the way. This isn’t often mentioned in Keaton’s upper tier, but it’s likable enough and is worth a look for his fans.

  • None but the Lonely Heart (1944)

    None but the Lonely Heart (1944)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2020) When you intend to watch an actor’s entire filmography, you have to take the good with the not-so-good, and so any Cary Grant fan has to go through None but the Lonely Heart on the way to (or once past) better movies. Oh, it’s not that that this poverty/family/criminal drama is terrible—in fact, it does have its qualities, most notably in portraying a Londonian working-class environment and wrapping up domestic drama in spicier criminal activity. Still, this is fairly mild and disappointing stuff for Grant, who gets to use a Cockney accent (not his own) and a fraction of his natural charm as a young cad who learns better. For Grant’s fans, this is the film that best portrays his lower-class origins, although that’s not much of an overall comfort.  Fans of car chases will be impressed by an explosive action sequence late in the film—and seeing the wires used for the special effects only somehow makes it all better. A relatively minor entry in Grant’s filmography (but significant in its own way), None but the Lonely Heart remains for convinced fans in the mood to appreciate a bit of social realism.

  • Hold back the Dawn (1941)

    Hold back the Dawn (1941)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2020) I’m a good sport for anything written by Billy Wilder, but even I remain underwhelmed by Hold Back the Dawn. Wilder’s biography tells us that it was largely inspired by his own life—as an immigrant from Europe, Wilder had to spend some time waiting at the Mexican/American border for his right to enter the country. Of course, Wilder’s stay was uneventful—the story here is quite different. Charles Boyer stars as a European gigolo trying to gain entry to the US and resorting to what he does best—seduction. Taking aim at a visiting American schoolteacher, he inevitably develops feelings for his mark, and much of the film follows the consequences of trying to square everything away. We know from the framing device that he will make his way to Hollywood, but there’s more than him to care about. Olivia de Havilland plays the romantic interest, adding a further bit of star-power to the result—although Paulette Goddard is more interesting as a vengeful flame. Hold back the Dawn is unapologetically a grand Hollywood romantic drama. It seldom holds back in terms of melodrama, and toys with audience expectations in its very dramatic third act. While it does end well (at least for most characters), there are plenty of dramatic complications along the way, and chances for the actors to deliver sob-inducing speeches. I liked it well enough as an example of that kind of film, although I can’t say that I have any particular affection for it over similar examples.

  • Best Defense (1984)

    Best Defense (1984)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, February 2020) I’m glad I read about Best Defense’s troubled production before writing this review, because it turns out that what I liked best about it are almost accidental consequences of an attempt to save the film from a critical savaging. From the get-go, the film offers two timelines: One, in 1982, with a bumbling engineer trying to perfect a piece of military equipment, and another in 1984 of a soldier having to use the equipment in a military engagement. Already, this dual-timeline structure is far more interesting than the norm. But as it turns out, the 1984 subplot was added in reshoots when the 1982 scenes proved too terrible to exist by themselves. In that, at least, the studio acknowledged reality. Unexplainably relying on Dudley Moore as a protagonist (the more I see of Moore’s movies, the less I like his comic persona), the bulk of Best Defense tries to convince us that it’s worth cheering for an incompetent, lecherous would-be-adulterous idiot. (Has Moore played anything else?) Needless to say, this has aged poorly these days, especially during an American administration that has nakedly shown the consequences of incompetence. If you can manage to get over his performance, the film gets far more interesting when it plays with its dual timelines, the actions of 1982 having consequences in 1984, as none other than Eddie Murphy (then exploding as a megastar, and clearly funnier than Moore, even in showboating) playing the soldier struggling with the engineer-designed equipment. Amusingly enough, the film anticipates the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait eight years before it happened—although let’s not see in this anything but a lucky coincidence. The result is a bit of a mess—an intriguing structure that was bolted upon a far less interesting film. Murphy escapes from the film mostly intact, along with Kate Capshaw as the voice of reason to man-child Moore. Best Defense is interesting but for all the wrong reasons—and I’m not going to recommend it to any unsuspecting audience.

  • Captive State (2019)

    Captive State (2019)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2020) Despite the slew of underwhelming movies about life under alien occupation, I continue to think that there’s something really powerful about that promise—at least if it’s used to comment on social issues, or reflect the contemporary feeling of life under (human) 1% oligarchs. Unfortunately, you’re not going to find that kind of material in Captive State, which struggles to become interesting even as it studies various characters as they react to life under a repressive alien regime. While the story does score a few points by focusing on the human enablers that prop up the alien regime and aping classic Resistance movies, much of Captive State struggles to gather any kind of interest.  You can see the ending (even the twist of the ending) coming far in advance and there really isn’t much more to the conclusion to make it stand out. The film can rely on a few veteran actors for quality, John Goodman and Vera Farmiga being the standouts—even though Farmiga feels underutilized. Captive State is a narrative and thematic dud as well: it alludes to class issues without engaging with them, and its low budget means that there’s very little visual kick to the story. In fact, some of it comes across as silly: As the characters suit up as if for a space flight only to take an elevator down, it’s easy to think that the film has overplayed the elements to its disposal. When Captive State showed up on Cable TV, I was convinced that it was a direct-to-digital production (and even more convinced of it after watching the film), but it turns out that it did have a wide theatrical release… which miserably bombed. The box-office failure is completely understandable while watching the final result. Writer-director Rupert Wyatt has a few good ideas up his sleeve, but his execution is messy, blurry, cold and boring. Worse yet: it doesn’t know what to do with what it has.

  • Nebraska (2013)

    Nebraska (2013)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, February 2020) It’s a bit of a surprise that I waited this long before seeing Nebraska—after all, it was nominated for a Best Picture Oscar, and I’m a bit of a completist when it comes to those. Plus, it’s from Alexander Payne, an uneven filmmaker but one who can usually be counted upon to deliver a few surprises along the way. Embracing its Midwestern gothic aesthetics, Nebraska is shot in black-and-white (more a cinema-vérité gimmick than something truly interesting) and takes place in working-class America. Quirky characters abound, as the story is precipitated by an elderly alcoholic’s conviction that he has won a million dollars in a Publisher’s Clearinghouse-style contest and must go pick up his prize in person. Exasperated by his constant escapes from home, his son decides to lance the boil and make the drive. Cue the road trip movie, although it stops for a while at the man’s former hometown, a hotbed of past relationships, naked envy and spectacularly dumb characters. I’ll give something to Payne: he can be surprising, and it’s a wonder how Nebraska can remain interesting (in a truly cringe-inducing way) with such low stakes and down-to-earth concerns. Much of this can be attributed to a screenplay with distinctive (if frustrating) characters, featuring lusty elders, cackling rednecks, befuddled sons and gossip-loving townsfolk. It’s not an easy movie to like, but there are enough good scenes here and there to make it distinctive. Bruce Dern is terrific as the half-demented man who sets the plot in motion and eventually gains a strange victory of sorts despite being hopelessly deluded about his real chances. Nebraska may be an odd movie, not exactly pulse-pounding at what it does, but it’s interesting enough and somewhat similar to many other Payne movies in how it explored places and people that seldom figure in most other films.

  • My Bloody Valentine (1981)

    My Bloody Valentine (1981)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, February 2020) The early 1980s were the golden age of slasher horror movies, and it’s not a surprise if some of them were better than others. Despite my strong dislike of the subgenre, even I have to admit that My Bloody Valentine is an above-average slasher. There’s quite a bit more going on than simply setting a familiar plot at an incongruous time of the year: As the subplot and atmosphere of the small city in which My Bloody Valentine takes place, it’s actually possible to care a little bit about the characters and remain interested in the backstory underpinning the bloody kills. I wouldn’t want to overstate things—but the worldbuilding here is actually interesting, what with the mining environment offering a visual and thematic counterpoint to the small-tow atmosphere. (The mine feels superfluous at first, until you realize how it provides the film with its gas mask iconography and, eventually, the backstory required to motivate the killer.) The rest of My Bloody Valentine isn’t that interesting, but in wading through a seemingly endless succession of near-identical gory slashers, I’ll take any distinction I can get.

  • Mon Oncle [My Uncle] (1958)

    Mon Oncle [My Uncle] (1958)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2020) As someone who started exploring “older” movies only a few years ago, one of my favourite feelings is to encounter a film so distinctive that nothing quite like it has been made ever since. Something like Mon Oncle, a satire that plays almost entirely without significant dialogue, relying on visual design and the talents of writer-director Jacques Tati as a mime. I’ll qualify my “I’ve never seen anything like this before or since,” reaction with the obvious note that this is my first Tati film—I’m aware of Les Vacances de Monsieur Hulot and Play Time but haven’t gotten around to them yet. (There are also plenty of similarities, as others have noted, between Tati and Rowan Atkinson’s Mr. Bean.) Mon Oncle certainly makes a striking introduction to his work: A satire of 1950s French society taken over by American-style consumerism, this is a film that opposes two visions of France, and remains curiously timeless despite some very dated material. Tati’s background as a mime certainly shows in the film’s almost redundant dialogues, with the bulk of the film’s storytelling and comedy being handled through purely visual means. This doesn’t mean that Mon Oncle could have worked as a silent movie, though: the film’s soundscape is incredibly important in affirming the film’s atmosphere. There are a lot of slapstick gags, but perhaps just as many visual design jokes as well—the film’s cinematographic polish is incredible, and the way the film portrays an out-of-control drive toward modernism exists somewhere between words and images. (There’s a bit where the house “watches” Tati that’s almost a perfect moment of cinema.) Still, for all of the high esteem in which I regard Mon Oncle’s intentions and execution, there’s a limit to how much I actually like the result. The film often goes back to the same general ideas in more or less the same way, getting repetitive along the way. I also have… issues in the way modernism is portrayed as a soul-sucking step down from traditionalism. But then again, I’ve had sixty more years than Tati to get used to the idea.

  • Frankie and Johnny (1991)

    Frankie and Johnny (1991)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, February 2020) Here we have Al Pacino and Michelle Pfeiffer in a middle-aged romance set against a background of petty criminality and restaurant shifts—and it’s based on a play based on a song. I’m not sure there’s anything more to say about Frankie and Johnny: this is a relatively low-octane romantic comedy (or rather romantic non-tragedy, because while it’s not exactly funny, it doesn’t end with everybody dying either) featuring two actors able to sink their teeth into more demanding material. The tone is resolutely low-key (although Pacino does get a chance to rave a little bit) and the result is fit to be watched by anyone, whether they’re interested in the actors, the premise or the prospect of a middle-of-the-road film that ends on a positive note. Director Garry Marshall was already an experienced hand at directing romantic comedies back in 1991 and the result is solid without being overly showy. The person who benefits the most from Frankie and Johnny is Pfeiffer, having a chance to play a solid dramatic role while toning down (but not too much) her movie-star looks. There’s a bit of a disconnect between the very domestic, working-class nature of the story being told and the way it’s been given to two mega-charm actors, but that’s Hollywood suspension of disbelief for you.

  • The Defiant Ones (1958)

    The Defiant Ones (1958)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2020) I know, from 2020’s vantage point, that Tony Curtis has played a number of dramatic and unlikable roles in his career. But there’s a good reason why his performance as a racist criminal in The Defiant Ones is still surprising: Even today, well after the end of his career, Curtis is far better remembered as a funny romantic protagonist than anything else. His enduring renown for comedy makes his performance in The Defiant Ones still compelling: In this socially-minded Stanley Kramer film, he plays an unrepentant white racist who finds himself chained to a black man (the excellent Sidney Poitier in one of his earliest performances) while escaping a chain gang. There’s little surprise as to where the film’s overall dramatic arc is going, but some of the details along the way are interesting—the portrait of the American South, with its heavily racist atmosphere and punitive justice, is asphyxiating and almost alien. The film is at its strongest in leaning upon its literalized metaphor of two races chained together, finding a way to get past their animosity for a common goal. The stark black-and-white cinematography works in favour of the film more often than not, leaving all the space necessary for the actors to show their skills playing off each other. By contemporary standards, The Defiant Ones can feel a bit rough on messaging, but is not really any less effective for it.

  • Fantastic Voyage (1966)

    Fantastic Voyage (1966)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2020) I’ve been on a self-imposed quest to watch past nominees and winners of the Best Special Effects Academy Award, and it’s proven a far more interesting project than many of the Best Picture nominees. Of course, it’s a category that dating faster than any other, and Fantastic Voyage is a prime example of the sort. It’s the kind of movie that exists because of special effects, so there’s no surprise if the plot takes a distant backseat to the visuals. (My first exposure to the story was through Isaac Asimov’s novelization, which had two distinctions: For one, Asimov wrote quickly while the film experienced one delay after another; for another, Asimov as a trained scientist and practising SF writer left no plot holes unexplained—leading to a situation where his novel had been out for six months by the time the dumbed-down movie came out, leading many to assume that the film was an inferior adaptation of Asimov’s concept. ) The narrative confusion and outdated technology are exhibited from the film’s first few minutes, as the film ponderously takes us through “high technology” offices that look ridiculously dated, barely explaining a premise that makes increasingly less sense. Then Fantastic Voyage compounds its own technology and narrative problems by treating its sole female character (played by Raquel Welsh, no less) as a piece of art to be ogled. In the dialogue. From a contemporary perspective, we can deal with the outdated special effects far more easily than the misogyny. There’s plenty of evidence that usually-competent director Richard Fleischer was outmatched by the premise, starting with the lack of energy in the editing. Some stylistic intentions (such as the wordless opening, or the first forty minutes without a score) become more annoying than inspiring, and that’s without discussing the increasingly psychedelic visuals. Despite my best intentions, I can’t say that I enjoyed Fantastic Voyage. While there’s some charm in seeing how they faked some of the visual effects, the film itself feels long and ponderous. It also doesn’t help that a much better take on the same idea—Innerspace—has been released since then.