Reviews

  • Legal Eagles (1986)

    Legal Eagles (1986)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, June 2019) I don’t think anyone would remember Legal Eagles today if it wasn’t for Daryl Hannah and Robert Redford, but that’s kind of the point of casting stars. The premise of the film has Redford and Debra Winger as competing lawyers who somehow agree to investigate the case they have in common—a sombre painting robbery that turns out to have links with the death of an artist killed eighteen years earlier. As our romantic pair bickers themselves into a healthy romantic tension, we’re free to enjoy the sight of middle-aged Redford at his most charming self, extremely cool even when slightly bumbling. Meanwhile Hannah plays the seductress with dull practice, leaving Winger as the film’s MVP as a combative attorney. Consciously written to feel like a 1940s belligerent romantic comedy, Legal Eagles is definitely middle-of-the-road stuff: there’s a substantial plot, but it’s a star vehicle almost designed to leave viewers with a pleasant feeling that soon evaporates—I’m not sure anyone can recall the details of the narrative even a week later. Still, fifty-year-old Redford is a joy to watch, and the film moves through the motions of its plot so confidently that it does give the impression of going somewhere even despite the banter. I quite liked it, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll remember why in a few months.

  • High Plains Drifter (1973)

    High Plains Drifter (1973)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, June 2019) At first, there is a bafflingly familiar quality to High Plains Drifter that may make you question why the film exists, so closely does it feel like half a dozen other Clint Eastwood westerns. Here we have a loner coming to town, shooting a few people up to no good, and asked to stick around to protect the town from a bigger evil. But even at the same time, there’s something not quite right with the movie, something that sets it apart: Our protagonist rapes a woman in the film’s first ten minutes and before long we understand that the villagers are clearly plotting among themselves to keep a secret from the hero. High Plains Drifter gets weirder the longer it goes on, as more secrets are revealed and the “innocent” villagers’ true allegiances are revealed. Throughout it all, we also realize how there’s a strong probability that the film is not entirely realistic. The dark-red climax gets positively occult as evidence of supernatural happenings accumulate. Noteworthy for being one of Eastwood’s first solo directing efforts (clearly inspired by Leone and Siegel), the film includes—of all things—what could be interpreted as one of cinema’s earliest first-person-shooter sequences. While the film may or may not belong to the supernatural horror genre, it’s the explanation that makes the most sense and interest given the clues given by the film. Eastwood fans may want to compare High Plains Drifter with Pale Rider, which seems to come to a similarly ambiguous situation from the other side of the good/evil coin.

  • The Secret Life of Pets 2 (2019)

    The Secret Life of Pets 2 (2019)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, in theatres, June 2019) I was oddly charmed by the first The Secret Life of Pets—I could identify with some of the more sentimental material about humans and their pets in between the more obvious jokes and fast-paced action sequences. As a result, sequel The Secret Life of Pets 2 doesn’t quite have the same element of surprise going for it, and may stretch the sauce a bit too thin. For a very long time, the film feels episodic: despite the promising prologue, it feels like a filler episode between weightier instalments. It takes until the third act, and the coalescing of the three subplots, before the film regains its coherence and feels like a single film again. While the result is not bad, I have a feeling that by stretching the story past its previous boundaries (by going to the farm, by including non-pet animals) it loses sight of the emotional connection to house pets that the first film maintained so well. At least, in the Illumination Studios tradition, there are the silly jokes to fall back on: The Secret Life of Pets 2 ends with Kevin Hart as a rabbit singing “Panda,” so at least there’s that to look forward throughout the film.

    (Second viewing, On UHD, July 2021) Don’t you hate it when subplots metastasize and take over a film? A second look at The Secret Life of Pets 2 suggests that the script was rushed, and the point of the series was lost along the way. Numbers may help: The Secret Life of Pets was released in 2016, while its sequel came out three years later, which is not a lot of time to get even an 86-minute animated film done from the ground up. With that kind of rush, you can’t expect a sober reworking of material at all stages, and the time constraints show most clearly at the script level. While the first film kept a tight focus on pets and their relationship with humans (culminating in a return-home montage that still gets me to this day), this second film goes off in three different directions, not always aligned with the core strength of the premise. The one subplot that works best on an emotional level is the one that develops the characters from the first film, as our dog protagonist learns to deal with his owner’s marriage, pregnancy and young son – suddenly, there’s an expansion of the emotional themes of the first film, and you can see some progress along the way. I’m not that fond of that subplot’s setting on an upstate farm (diluting the concept of pets through livestock), but I like where it starts and where it ends. I’m also marginally tolerant of the subplot involving other animal characters getting into crazy adventures with other pets, in this case a Pomeranian forced to go undercover as a cat to retrieve a toy from a crazy cat lady apartment – it fits neatly with the “secret life” aspect of the story, and it’s got the biggest laughs of the film while giving something to do to the ensemble cast still stuck in New York City. It’s the third subplot that gives off airs of not having been completely polished, as a rabbit character with delusions of super-heroism goes chasing after a cub tiger being abused by a circus owner. That’s the part of the film that seems to come from a different series, about as far away from the “pets” aspect of the series as possible. It’s the subplot designed for thrills rather than emotion or laughs, and while it does deliver an action-packed climax, it’s a disappointing tag that feels as if it was added early in production to round off the film’s short running time, and couldn’t be replaced or improved given the film’s target release date. Oh, The Secret Life of Pets 2 is not terrible by any means: the animation’s good, the jokes land and the characters are recognizably themselves. But the added spark from the first film is not always there, and here is such a stark difference in intent from the three subplots that the structural artificiality of the result is highlighted. Kids will like it, but adults may not have as much fun.

  • Lone Wolf McQuade (1983)

    Lone Wolf McQuade (1983)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, June 2019) There is something true in the assertion that once you’ve seen a Chuck Norris film you’ve seen them all, and it’s certainly not going to be disproven by the generic Lone Wolf McQuade, where a rather great title can’t hide that this is Norris playing the same Norris. This time, he’s a rebellious Texas Ranger who (what else) is on the trail of an evil drug lord. He carries a .44 Magnum. He has a pet wolf. The drug lord is played by David Carradine. The love interest is played by the very cute Barbara Carrera. I’m not sure that there’s anything of substance to add to those facts. As directed by Steve Carver, the film is slightly more cinematographically ambitious than many of Norris’s other movies, clearly going for a Leone-type modern western in the American southwest. Still, Lone Wolf McQuade doesn’t have a whole lot to care about: There are few surprises here, although the sometimes-blunt execution does have a rough-hewn charm. Norris fans already know if they’re going to like it.

  • About Last Night… (1986)

    About Last Night… (1986)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, June 2019) I came to About Last Night… the other way around, having seen (and really enjoyed) the 2014 remake before seeing the original. This one is set in 1980s Chicago (nicely using the city’s landmarks), and follows a yuppie couple as they connect, disconnect, and reconnect over the span of a year. Demi Moore and Rob Lowe are quite likable as the lead couple. In fact, this may be my favourite performances from them both—and that’s saying something considering Moore’s extensive career. The better than average dialogue clearly comes from David Mamet’s original theatrical play, and it shines even through the crude French translation doing its best to keep up with its rapid rhythm. It’s easy to see why some consider it to be a semi-classic romantic comedy: the execution is much better than the somewhat stock premise. And yet, and yet: this may be a generational thing or a recency bias, but I can’t quite muster the same affection toward the original About Last Night… than I have for its Los Angeles-set remake. It’s still good enough … but not quite as good.

  • Victor Victoria (1982)

    Victor Victoria (1982)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2019) Director Blake Edwards built his career with bigger-than-life comedies, so the gender-twisting outrageousness of Victor Victoria does make quite a bit of sense coming from him. See if you can keep up: In 1930s Paris, a gay man convinces a woman to impersonate a man impersonating a woman in a transvestite cabaret show. (We’re deep in Philip K. Dick’s fake-fake territory here.) Still, the film itself is a decent amount of fun. Julie Andrews stars as the woman asked to play a woman, but much of the spotlight goes to Robert Preston (and his great voice) as an aging gay man—his character is treated with some respect (within the confines of a 1982 film taking in place in 1934, that is), helping the film age more gracefully than most contemporaries. There are shades of Cabaret here (especially considering its inspiration, a 1933 German film) but don’t worry: Victor Victoria doesn’t have Nazis and ends on a far more cheerful note. It definitely comes alive during the funny cabaret sequence, especially when they result in musical numbers. The best is saved for last, with a deliberately over-the-top final sequence. While I’m not enthusiastic about Victor Victoria, it’s an easy film to watch and the cheerful atmosphere makes it all feel far more bearable than other comparable films (or musicals) of the era.

  • Lucas (1986)

    Lucas (1986)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, June 2019) There’s an entire cluster of 1980s movies that, if you weren’t around to see them upon release, now feel like strange artifacts of another era. You can watch them for a cast of actors who later went on to do other things, but they usually feel so familiar in the story yet so detached from now that they’re artifacts. At least that’s how I feel about Lucas, a wholly unremarkable high school drama that had the good luck of featuring actors (Corey Haim, Winona Ryder, Charlie Sheen, Jeremy Piven) who became better known afterwards. The plot has something to do with a nerd picking up football to impress a girl, but as a coming-of-age comedy, it’s about as sweet as it needs to be with our hero learning about unreciprocated crushes and earning the respect of teammates through one of the big prototypical slow claps of the 1980s. Lucas is probably more meaningful to those who dabbled in high-school football, saw it at the right age, or were around for it in the 1980s. For everyone else, well, it seems as if there’s been endless variations of the same thing since then.

  • Nobody’s Fool (1994)

    Nobody’s Fool (1994)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2019) For an actor that was once so vital to American cinema, it’s surprising to realize after the fact that Paul Newman essentially retired in the nineties, with a total of five films during that decade: At the exception of Road to Perdition, his twenty-first century career was low-key—voice acting, TV movies, smaller roles, this kind of thing. So, it’s a bit of a surprise to discover Nobody’s Fool as one of his parting lead roles, a small-town character-driven drama focused entirely on his character. Newman’s filmography is not the only one being enhanced by Nobody’s Fool—he plays opposite a cross-generational ensemble cast that includes a prime-era Bruce Willis, one of Jessica Tandy’s last roles, as well as turns for Melanie Griffith (who hilariously flashes her breasts to Newman’s character) and Philip Seymour Hoffman (as a policeman, no less). Willis, in particular, is almost a revelation for those who have grown used to his increasingly detached screen persona—here he is playing a now-unfamiliar character—loose, funny and engaged. Still, the show belongs to Newman: In a revealing contrast to his earlier, sullen roles, the bad boy of Hud and The Prize and Cool Hand Luke has mellowed into an elderly actor playing an elderly man who has found contentment in a simple life. It does complement the small-town charm of the film, albeit one tempered by a depressing snowy atmosphere and the very down-to-earth portrait of flawed characters. There’s more nudity than you’d think from a “small-town intimate drama.”  Still, Nobody’s Fool remains a bit more interesting than expected—and not just as a lesser-known title on multiple filmographies.

  • Look Who’s Talking (1989)

    Look Who’s Talking (1989)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, June 2019) You know the shtick for Look Who’s Talking—everyone does: Standard romantic comedy, except with the baby character having a voice. It’s good for a few laughs (“Lunch!” is always good for a smirk or two), but there’s a limit to how long that gimmick can be sustained, after which the film has to rely on more standard elements. Fortunately, there’s John Travolta and Kirstie Alley looking great and being decently funny in their roles. Perhaps the biggest surprise of Look Who’s Talking is that the humour is considerably cruder than I expected, starting from a conception credit sequence that also introduces the gimmick. At times too cute but generally funny, there’s a bit more to this film than the talking-baby thing, including a rather complicated relationship between the two leads that goes a bit beyond the strict minimum expected. One sequence has a cute nod to Travolta in Saturday Night Fever, except that it’s more than a gag—it cleverly reinforces the father/son association between Travolta’s character and the baby in the viewers’ minds by making a call-back to the actor’s previous role. But that’s getting over-analytical on a movie that’s not built to sustain more than a casual viewing. Look Who’s Talking may be a bit too quirky to love entirely, but it has its charm.

  • Now, Voyager (1942)

    Now, Voyager (1942)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2019) One of the disadvantages of looking at a past movie star’s body of work is that the later evolution of their screen persona can unfairly prejudice some of their earlier work. When I think about Bette Davis, for instance, I’m picturing a tart-tongued anti-heroine with panache. In Now, Voyager, however, we’re asked to believe her as a timid spinster who blooms as she travels around the world and falls for a sophisticated man. I am, in other words, not entirely convinced by Davis as a romantic ingenue (although she does look cute in round glasses), and the film’s opening sequences are a wild ride as the film crams an entire film’s worth of character development in a few minutes. Still, it clears the air for more complex romantic drama in an old-school sense, with some emphasis on mental health issues. The story is not quite as happy as you’d expect from a Golden-age Hollywood movie. While Now, Voyager may not be the film you’d expect, it does get better as it goes on and builds to a wistful romantic climax with classic imagery and dialogue (“Oh, Jerry, don’t let’s ask for the moon. We have the stars.”)  No wonder it’s fondly remembered even today.

  • BMX Bandits (1983)

    BMX Bandits (1983)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, June 2019) Through a strange alchemy, some movies go beyond creating embarrassment into some kind of awesomeness, so clearly do they defy the rules of cool and good taste. Or at least that’s what I tell myself in trying to justify seeing BMX Bandits, an early-1980s teenage adventure film that features no less than a teenage Nicole Kidman (in her feature film debut) as the leaders of a gang of bicycle riders. She looks cute in red curls and is arguably still the best reason why the film is worth a look. But that would be minimizing the sheer energy through which the film tries to make BMX bicycles look cool, with overdone synth music and audacious camera movements. BMX Bandits is clearly a film for the kids—not only do they take up the lead roles, saving the day when the adults can’t, but the villains are more comedic than threatening. Directed by then-journeyman Australia director Brian Trenchard-Smith, the film takes a long trip through Sydney for its climactic chase sequence. The low-budget film clearly has rough edges (there isn’t a lot of flow from one shot to another), dumb comic bits, useless flourishes (such as funny sound effects) and hopelessly dated early-1980s trends. But it’s still enjoyable on a basic level, and the Australian scenery does add quite a bit of local not-quite American colour. Still: It takes quite a bit of work to make BMX bikes look cool, and BMX Bandits should get some kind of award just for that.

  • The Front Runner (2018)

    The Front Runner (2018)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2019) As a political junkie, I’m a natural audience for the kind of political docufiction such as The Front Runner—which joins the slew of HBO political movies, and similar titles such as Shock and Awe. But let’s be careful—The Front Runner is a dissection of the Gary Hart adultery scandal of 1988 without much of a political axe to grind, except for looking at the inner workings of a campaign in crisis mode, as a sympathetic candidate is ultimately brought down by an affair. The good news is that the film can boast of an impressive cast (an older Hugh Jackman, and fine character work by Vera Farmiga and J. K. Simmons), a competent director (Jason Reitman, keeping the mayhem moving at an understandable pace) and some good production values taking us back to 1988. There are a few good moments despite the story being chronologically rearranged for impact and a few crucial details (such as Hart’s comeback campaign a few months later) being left unmentioned. But The Front Runner does have issues. In having to follow facts, it does run out of narrative steam in its last act as the candidate can’t quite grasp the trouble he’s in, and all that’s left after the mid-movie confrontations and investigative work are the recriminations and the throwing of the towel. Perhaps more problematic is the film’s thematic development—considering that much of the last act is a back-and-forth between a sympathetic candidate and a combative media, it’s a natural occasion to examine questions of ethics, monogamy, or whether personal issues affect leadership. Alas, that’s when the film turns ambivalent, neither arguing forcefully for a position nor making points that would be relevant to a contemporary audience. (Considering a current administration that’s so stained with overlapping scandals that none of them seem to stick, there would have been a golden opportunity here to make relevant parallels.)  The Front Runner ends up feeling non-committed, muddled, anticlimactic. As a political junkie, I still like it… but there was a better movie here trying to get out—even if it does get some recognition for not straying too far away from the facts.

  • The Return of the Pink Panther (1975)

    The Return of the Pink Panther (1975)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, June 2019) This is the first Peter Sellers film I’ve seen since diving deep into Sellers’s biography, and it’s fair to say that the disappointment at uncovering the actor’s worst traits definitely has echoes in the way that I’m reacting to the film. But not that much, as The Return of the Pink Panther is Sellers at his most rote and formulaic: Donning costumes, affecting different mannerisms (alas, the French dub means that I didn’t get the voices, even if that “alas” is qualified by how much I don’t particularly care for the accents). My appreciation for the Pink Panther sequels isn’t high to begin with: I didn’t like the Pink Panther sequel I watched a few months ago, and I still don’t here. Despite my lack of enthusiasm for The Return of the Pink Panther, it’s not a complete waste—some of the plotting is amusing, some of the costumes work and for all of its repetitiveness, some of the slow-motion scenery destruction is worth a chuckle or two. Christopher Plummer does have presence as the master-thief villain, as does Catherine Schell as another one Clouseau’s inexplicable string of love interests. Sellers himself is willing to do anything for a laugh, but it is a bit too much and the same considering the superficial variations in disguise. At this time in the series, this was the fourth Clouseau film and the third to star Sellers—you can argue that the series hadn’t yet degenerated in further self-copying. But even at this relatively high level of quality, The Return of the Pink Panther can feel as annoying as it is entertaining.

  • August: Osage County (2013)

    August: Osage County (2013)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, June 2019) There is a built-in perversion of expectations in August: Osage County that is as provocative as it is frustrating. If you picture a theatrical play (or a movie) about a dysfunctional family, you already have a rough outline of how it’s going to be structured already pre-assembled in your head. The family will get together. They will exhibit the aberrant traits that make them dysfunctional. There will be shouting. Some people are likely to be punished. But as the story advances, the family will reunite, and those most sympathetic characters will get back together toward the end, having resolved some of their difficulties and being ready to make even further progress going forward. Well, take those comfortable preconceptions and throw them away, because August: Osage County ultimately goes in a very different direction, shattering family bonds until we’re left with individuals. I had been curious about this film ever since watching the uncompromising Killer Joe—both are well-regarded movies adapted by Tracy Letts from his own plays, and this one featured an ensemble cast of capable actors. Julia Roberts goes toe-to-toe with Meryl Streep, and some unusual choices such as Ewan McGregor and Benedict Cumberbatch are to be found elsewhere in the cast. This is definitely an actor’s film, guided along with the pen of a professional playwright. As such, be ready for meaty dialogue, explosive revelations, off-kilter plot development and a merciless conclusion as a family crisis featuring a disappeared patriarch brings people home and detonates repressed fault lines in their relationships. It’s often very darkly funny, with extreme actions and language (Roberts hasn’t sworn as much on-screen since Mystic Pizza). While I enjoyed much of the film on a word-for-word basis, the ending did not sit right with me for a while—until I played around with it and realize how much it upended traditional expectations about how that kind of movie is supposed to go. But as I re-read my review a few weeks after watching the film, I’m somewhat more sympathetic toward what it manages to achieve, and honestly think that being forewarned is being better prepared to appreciate it when it comes. Do not expect a final weepy get-together—August: Osage County isn’t that kind of film.

  • The Hand that Rocks the Cradle (1992)

    The Hand that Rocks the Cradle (1992)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, June 2019) I’m old enough to remember the chatter around The Hand that Rocks the Cradle back in 1992, combined with a mini-spate in home-infiltration thrillers along with Single White Female, and Sliver the following year. Decades later, the effectiveness of the film remains even as it’s easier to see how it blatantly manipulates audiences. The first few minutes of the film, for instance, have everything accompanied by ominous music to underscore that we’re watching a thriller and things are about to get really, really bad. Then the coincidences and vengeful plans and underhanded tactics multiply as our lead couple welcomes into their homes a young woman with very personal reasons to do them harm. Everyone’s upper-middle-class nightmares come true as she worms her way into the family, pits everyone against each other, isolates them from their friends and, in the final act, goes after them with a shovel and murderous intentions. It’s schematic, predictable, blunt and over-the-top and yet, even now, it’s still unnerving and infuriating at once. Rebecca de Mornay is terrifying as the psychopathic antagonist, easily outshining Anabella Sciora for the entire film. Julianne Moore pops up briefly, as does John de Lancie. Director Curtis Hanson doesn’t miss a trick from the thriller genre, which does get slightly annoying in the ending stretch of the film as it becomes a more standard psycho-inside-the-house sequence. The female empowerment message in The Hand that Rocks the Cradle (because, of course, it’s got to end with the young wife protagonist taking on the psycho killer—largely useless husband need not apply) is somewhat similar to the spate of home corruption thrillers of the early 1940s (Gaslight, Suspicion, etc.)—the woman is the mistress in her own house, and intruders have no idea who they are messing with.