Reviews

  • The Whole Truth (2016)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, August 2022) I was looking forward to The Whole Truth because of its eclectic casting. You wouldn’t necessarily expect a throwback to the Grisham-inspired courtroom dramas of the 1990s to feature Keanu Reeves as a slick defence attorney, or Renee Zelwegger as a grieving widow, or Jim Belushi as the murder victim (in flashbacks) or Gugu Mbatha-Raw as an eager co-counsel. But wait: The casting gets increasingly inexplainable as the film steadily gets more ludicrous—what could possess all of those actors to take on such weak material? But don’t fret—you get an hour’s worth of unremarkable but not yet silly material to tolerate before it all goes to waste. What’s obvious early on is that, even as a Grisham-lite legal thriller, The Whole Truth is weak stuff: the film is visually unremarkable, Reeves can’t pull off the gravitas required of the role, and the entire murder case doesn’t feel particularly compelling. Much is made of the lead attorney’s excellence, even if it becomes increasingly obvious that much of the cast of character seems to exist in small social circles. Mbatha-Raw has some good material early on as a truth detector, but she gets increasingly sidelined (then evacuated) for no good reason. But the film keeps the worse for the end, as the resolution of the murder case hinges on a terrifying case of conflict of interest that only makes sense in thrillers eager to value shock over plausibility. Except that there isn’t much shock to get either—it just feels like another arbitrary decision in a film crammed with them. Director Courtney Hunt doesn’t bring much to the convoluted script, and all of this explains why The Whole Truth has sunk into obscurity even despite its cast. Unearthing it in 2022 only confirms how much it deserves to be forgotten.

  • There’s No Business Like Show Business (1954)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2022) Coming from the waning years of the Golden Hollywood musical, There’s No Business Like Show Business remains just as divisive today as it ever was. In an attempt to compete with television, movies went BIG by the mid-1950s, and this was as much of a razzle-dazzler as anything else. Consciously putting then-incandescent Marilyn Monroe front and centre alongside Donald O’Connor (weird pairing, but eh…), it artlessly crammed its musical numbers as Broadway pieces in the middle of a multi-year narrative about a showbiz family. It’s generally recognized that the film is better whenever Monroe is on-screen—although the impact of that will depend on how much you think of Monroe as a sex-symbol. (I prefer Monroe as a comedienne, and there’s little of that to be found here.)  For all of the impacts of numbers such as “Heat Wave,” however, Monroe remains in a supporting part, and you can feel the film trying to realign itself her way rather than spend more time on the rest of the cast. While There’s No Business Like Show Business is not a bad musical—the lavishness of the production alone prevents that—, it does miss a spark or something extra to truly become compelling. Monroe’s contribution isn’t that spark, and neither is O’Connor in a role that doesn’t seem to suit him all that well. It ends up being a thoroughly mixed bag of a film, and one that feels laboured most of the time. But some people love it! At least the glam still has an aura.

  • Skyscraper Souls (1932)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2022) I’m not sure you’d call it a subgenre, exactly, but I have a clear fondness for those many Manhattan-set films of the 1930s that represent what was then the height of modernity and sophistication—men and women going from their high-rise apartments to their high-rise jobs, trying to find love, advance their careers and take care of whatever plot point was thrown in their way. It’s a meticulously scrubbed-down fantasy version of 1930s life in Manhattan (notice that we seldom see the characters in the streets, and it’s not just because on-location shooting was impossible), but it’s still incredibly relatable and compelling to any twenty-first century viewer used to the urban lifestyle. The tightly wound Skyscraper Souls is nowhere near the best, funniest or more representative of such movies, but it could be one of the most exemplary ones given how free it is, in its pre-Code glory, to portray a young woman as having valid lustful desires. There’s a slightly techno-thrillerish edge to the setting—a hundred-story tall skyscraper that has everything needed for the plot—so much so that the action never steps out of the building. (One should note, for historical purposes, that the Empire State Building was the first building to feature more than a hundred floors; it opened in 1931 and remained the tallest until the 1960s.)  Much of the plot is about the tall building itself—and the man desperately fighting to keep control of it. Our male protagonist has affairs with other women (!) with his wife’s approval (!!) and causes a stock market crash that is almost presented as a good thing (!!!)  Warren Williams plays the magnificent bastard at the centre of the film, but there’s a lot of good supporting work from players such as Maureen O’Sullivan and Verree Teasdale. (Pre-gossip Hedda Hopper also shows up briefly.)  Even if the plotting gets suspicious or even repellent, I can’t help but like the paean to modernity that is Skyscraper Souls, the sense of a buzzing Manhattan or the Pre-Code slips (and scantily-clad ladies) that, as usual, evoke an entirely different history for American cinema had the Production Code never been as dominant.

  • Chronique d’un été (Paris 1960) [Chronicles of a Summer] (1961)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2022) Some movies become victims of their own successes, or (in breaking ground) anticipating what would later become far more commonplace. So it is that Jean Rouch and Edgar Morin’s Chronique d’un été (Paris 1960) set out to do something then groundbreaking by using a camera to give a voice to ordinary people in their magnificently mundane thoughts. That aspect hasn’t necessarily aged badly, but what has aged is the film’s self-reflection on the nature of putting reality on film and how it may be transforming reality through selective excerpts. To which any twenty-first century viewer with a pulse and a TV (or YouTube account) will now answer something like OH BOY, YOU HAVE NOT SEEN ANYTHING YET. I don’t want to be overly dismissive of Chronique d’un été (Paris 1960)—what it did at the time was fresh and daring. (Indeed, the term “cinema-vérité” reportedly comes from this film’s marketing campaign.)  But it’s far better to approach the film knowing that it is a product of its era and represents a kind of proto-essay on the nature of media-mediated reality than anything overly interesting by itself.

  • Uptown Saturday Night (1974)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2022) For some cinephiles, casting can be an attraction in itself—even if it’s never a good predictor of quality. So it is that 1970s blaxploitation comedy Uptown Saturday Night features a rich assortment of names: Sidney Poitier directing himself, Bill Cosby, Harry Belafonte and (in a comparatively smaller role) Richard Pryor in a crime comedy that would spawn two other unrelated follow-ups. Under Poitier’s direction, the film is self-consciously aiming higher than the usual blaxploitation film (to the point where that label is very much open to discussion)—the characters are dignified, the all-black cast isn’t reducible to stereotypes and the film has a welcome comedic pep that sustains most of its duration. There are two generations of leading black actors here in between Bellafonte and Poitier (gentlemen to the core), then Cosby and Pryor (whose respective stars were more than tarnished later on). It’s an interesting counterpart to the harder crime-edged thrillers that compose most of the mid-1970s black-cast movies and should prove interesting to black film historians for that reason. Otherwise, well, the actresses are beautiful and the jokes generally land—what else would you want? Much of the humour comes from ordinary middle-class people getting embroiled in the underworld for want of a lost lottery ticket and lying to their wives—there’s a relaxed easiness to the comedy as it comes to Cosby and Poitier and the sum of it is much greater than seeing a few known names working together in the same film.

  • The Trip to Greece (2020)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2022) And so The Trip tetralogy of film ends (so far)— The Trip to Greece features heavier material, an extended farewell, and some great footage of Greece… whether it’s landscapes, or our two protagonists eating and imitating other celebrities. It’s almost exactly what was delivered by the first three films of the series, but that’s the entire point of it. Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon reprise their roles as Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon with easy familiarity (helped along by the fact that the film is a distillation of a six-episode TV series, meaning that they have spent a lot of time together in the decade the series has been running). But there’s an air of wistfulness and loss to this (announced) last instalment tracing The Odyssey—even in themes and execution, the film is about death and closure, with the protagonists leaving each other well before the end of the film as they both pursue their own problems and reflect on mortality. This may be a bit too much for a series predicated on the two stars trading quips over good meals, but it may be necessary to provide the series with a sense of closure without necessarily precluding an eventual fifth instalment. (Considering the tonal shift between the end of the third film and the beginning of the fourth one, it’s not as if strong narrative consistency is a feature of the series.) Until then, The Trip to Greece remains a likable fourth outing with two affable performers, and a melancholic break that earns its gravitas from the journey through the three previous films.

  • Gambling on the High Seas (1940)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2022) Short, simple and rather entertaining B-movie Gambling on the High Seas depends on a bit of legal fiction that makes no sense but continues to fuel the imagination: the idea that it just takes a few nautical miles to transform a ship into a lawless free-for-all in which gambling services can be provided safely (yet conveniently close) to the mainland. (Adding another layer of interest, the tables are all crooked because why not pile on the illegality while you’re at it?)  Wayne Morris and Jane Wyman hold the leading roles—he as a reporter trying to crack the story, and she as the secretary who has all of the information. At 55 minutes, the film barely has time to set up its story, let alone run with it—and there’s a distinct lack of thrills despite a mildly effective mole-in-the-police plot turn. Still, Wyman is cute, Morris is an engaging eager-beaver and the whole thing runs so quickly that it’s over before you have a chance to settle in. Completely unassuming, Gambling on the High Seas has the charm of what it was meant to do—a quick second feature to complete another film by the same studio for moviegoers who were going to get a complete evening’s package out of going to the movies.

  • Lumière! (2016)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, August 2022) Now here’s something interesting—Lumière! is a dive deep into cinema history to showcase many of the first films ever made by the Lumière Brothers. The appeal here isn’t solely in giving greater visibility, in restored editions, to some of the earliest movies ever made, but in the narration (by Thierry Frémaux, who also wrote and directed the film) pointing out the ways these early directors worked within the technical limits of their medium, creating a brand-new cinematographic grammar along the way. The script cleverly points out the inconsistencies and incoherence betraying how the film was staged and remade, never missing even the tiniest detail that can inform the viewer. The effect is very much like being in a very entertaining film school class, with an eager teacher using every frame of his material as a teaching opportunity. It’s an eloquent demonstration that while the Lumière Brothers didn’t have much in technical terms, they had to be immensely creative and clever in the ways they used what they had. There’s a constant line of wry humour in the narration running over the films, and Lumière! is far more interesting than you would expect. A must-see for anyone interested in the first decade of cinema.

  • The Thief Who Came to Dinner (1973)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2022) As far as 1970s jewel thief movies go, The Thief Who Came to Dinner is about as ordinary as they come. Ryan O’Neill stars as a computer programmer who decides to quit his job after being seduced by jewel thievery, and exchanges his first score for addresses of other places with jewelry stashes. Jacqueline Bisset plays the generic girlfriend role, while Warren Oates completes the main trio as an investigator who develops a fondness for the object of his pursuit. The rest is rather standard material, albeit occasionally convoluted for its own sake. I probably would have enjoyed the result more if I thought more highly of blandy-bland O’Neill and his inexplicable run of popularity in the 1970s. The atmosphere of 1970s Houston is interesting, and the result is quite watchable even if you don’t think much of it. It’s just that the film invites comparisons to other films that don’t work to its advantage—although The Thief Who Came to Dinner works better if your expectations are firmly in check.

  • The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean (1972)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2022) I’m not sure whether I expected too much or too little from The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean. On the one hand, it does feature Paul Newman—a sure-fire crowd-pleaser and usually a dependable screen presence. On the other hand—I’ve seen far too many 1970s revisionist westerns lately, and I think I just had my fill before watching this one. Back to the first hand: It’s directed by John Huston, and features notables such as Tab Hunter, Anthony Perkins, Victoria Principal, Ava Gardner, Ned Beaty and Jacueline Bisset—how can you not be interested in this cast? But returning to the second hand: the film makes a bland protagonist out of a rather problematic figure (the inverse of what other revisionist westerns of the time were doing!) and its intention to tell its subject’s story over several decades means that the film works in stop-and-go episodes, not earning much narrative velocity or interest. Even at two hours, The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean feels overlong and heavy. There’s a comic musical interlude (with a bear) in a film about a figure best known for presiding over violent justice. In other words, in a pitiful attempt at a conclusion where I throw both hands in the air: I just couldn’t get into this film despite elements that should have worked much better. I’m confounded by it, and may revisit it someday… but not soon: I feel as if I’ve given it a chance, and it fumbled it.

  • The Devil and Miss Jones (1941)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2022) Well isn’t this interesting—a pro-union romantic comedy set in the 1940s, featuring a rich man going undercover as a store employee to discover what’s going on behind the growing unrest. Jean Arthur stars in The Devil and Miss Jones as a store employee who, improbably enough, gets taken under the millionaire’s wings as he arranges for her to romance a union organizer. (Meanwhile, he’s got his own budding romance going on.)  There’s the usual amount of irony in a film where one main character is undercover and gradually gets seduced to a cause, but don’t fret—it’s all heading for a cute romantic finish, and it does so without betraying its labour sympathies. While The Devil and Miss Jones runs on some predictable subplots, it’s likable enough that little of it matters—the meatiest part of the film remains the unabashed pro-union viewpoint of the script. (Would it have fared as well ten years later in the middle of the anti-Communist witch-hunt?)  There’s also something interesting in that the two leads of the film are ultimately pursuing romance—but with other people. All of that is really to highlight the swift and competent way the script is written, with rather good dialogue and strong structure underlying a crowd-pleasing comedy that nonetheless takes inspiration from the class struggle. Not bad!

  • Les rois du gag (1985)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2022) If you’re looking for old-school physical gag comedy, you could do much, much worse than to go back and have a look at Les rois du gag. Co-written and directed by Claude Zidi, le film features Gérard Jugnot and an adorably young Thierry Lhermitte as two men who keep coming up with contraptions for comedy gags in obscure venues. Things look up when an established comic with problems reaching out to younger generations hires then as gagmen, and when (later) they get embroiled in the shooting of a serious American film in Paris. Quite a bit of Les rois du gag is dedicated to the minutiae of gag-making and the making of a sketch comedy show—we get to see the ideas (rejected or modified) that get refined into an audience-ready product, and the bickering between different comic visions when it’s time to renew a show. The satirical look at “a great American director” late in the film also brings its share of jokes while bringing to mind many possible inspirations. There are more than a few chuckles here and there, even if the last act of the film struggles to deliver a satisfying conclusion to the film’s themes. Still, compared to a lot of other French comedies of the same era, Les rois du gags is better than most, and still worth a look today.

  • Bathory (2008)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, August 2022) Can we talk about the power of expectations? I watched Bathory on a horror-dedicated channel, and the combination of that plus the well-known subject matter led me to expect a full-on horror film with at least one blood bath. As a consequence, I’m perhaps a bit more upbeat about the result than someone who would have seen the film under different circumstances, properly briefed on what it was trying to do. For Bathory is not quite the schlocky house-of-horror tale of Elizabeth Bathory that I was expecting—It’s much, much closer to a weird well-funded historical drama in which the horror elements of the Bathory legend are used as spice to a story not entirely convinced of her murderous reputation. The result features humour, horror, mystery investigations, lavish historical re-creations and feminist revisionism. It’s significantly more ambitious than I expected, and far more interesting as well—although that scatteredness doesn’t quite bring up Bathory to a should-see status. Some of the visual polish of the film is impressive. (As someone with fondness for big manes of hair, I got an over-the-top satisfaction at seeing Anna Friel in the biggest, widest, wildest wig that hair engineering could create. It’s awesome in its own right.)  Where writer-director Juraj Jakubisko falters, however, is rooted in his own ambitions: the mixture of fantastic dream sequences with harder-edged political revisionism is both familiar and self-contradictory: Of course, the film will argue that Bathory was a woman too good for her times, persecuted for being modern in an intolerant time. (And apparently fond of baths in water tainted red by herbs. Hmm.)  But at the same time Bathory takes such liberties with history in style and content that it’s difficult to take seriously. Friel does quite well and the film exceeds expectations, but the result is not quite the solid film it could have been with more control over the material and its execution.

  • Hobgoblins (1988)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, August 2022) Some films are infamous for being bad, and so you will reliably find Hobgoblins with a secure spot on IMDB’s bottom-100 film list. (It’s currently at #31.)  As usual, this is all debatable—the worst movies in the universe are so bad that they never get the chance to be seen by wide audiences, while substandard-but-watchable films with some audience appeal end up gathering a bandwagon in their disfavour. Hobgoblins, to be clear, is not a good movie. It’s cheap, inept, incoherent, childish and badly put together. But occasionally, you can feel the sparks of something interesting or even likable under the surface. The premise has some potential, what with mischievous aliens held in a movie studio, able to modify reality to reflect their victim’s desire. (I mean, this is almost Solyaris right there.)  The execution does have a few moments of charm, whether it’s the rather cute stolen-from Gremlins creatures, the semi-cute girls or the earnestness of some cast members. It all crashes and burns in an incoherent mess that’s far too reminiscent of low-budget film failures, but there is just enough of a special something in Hobgoblins (including an execution that doesn’t take itself seriously) to keep audiences interested until the end. Writer-director Rick Sloane shouldn’t feel too proud of this film (much of his later career has been just as unimpressive), but there are far worse movies than Hobgoblins out there. Not that this is much of a recommendation, considering the far greater number of good movies that are also out there.

  • Get to Know Your Rabbit (1972)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2022) Pleasantly weird, Get to Know Your Rabbit is notable for being an early studio effort from director Brian de Palma, directing someone else’s script. No one will be surprised, in reading about the film’s production history, to find out that de Palma got in arguments with star Tom Smothers, hated working with the studio, saw the film languish on shelves for two years, and spent the next few years working as an independent filmmaker (not to mention abandon comedies almost entirely to develop his own style of suspense films). Still, what remains viewable on-screen is one strange film that delves perhaps more than you’d expect into absurdist deadpan humour. Much of the story is driven by an executive’s midlife crisis, leaving his corporate job in order to learn tap-dancing magic under the tutelage of an eccentric teacher (Orson Welles!) and then travel the country as a performer. Corporate executives having midlife crises were a commonplace plot driver by the end of the 1960s, but this film gets weirder and weirder after that, with the madness getting deep in the credits themselves: Katharine Ross is credited as “Terrific-Looking Girl.” Welles, deep in his “I don’t care anymore” period, delivers a rather good turn reminiscent of his presence in Casino Royale. Alas, the film doesn’t quite make the most out of its wacky ideas—the deadpan tone alone robs a few sequences of additional comic energy, and the script is not streamlined enough to be as effective as it could be. Still, the idea of a tap-dancing magician is compounded by a lot of stylistic tricks (including an overhead travelling shot that immediately evokes a similar sequence in Palma’s much-later Snake Eyes) and ends up producing something just bizarre enough to be interesting despite self-defeating pacing and plotting issues. De Palma fans will not be disappointed… much.