Reviews

  • Penitentiary (1979)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2022) If I’ve got my notes right, the rather short filmography of writer-director Jamaa Fanaka is sometimes seen (along with the L.A. Rebellion movement) as a transition from blaxploitation to the social issues black cinema of the late 1980s. Penitentiary certainly plays into that transition, being concerned about racial injustice (as in: a young black man unjustly arrested, blamed for the death of a white man and sent to prison) but very much using the tools of exploitation cinema in order to keep audiences invested in the film. In this case, imprisonment drama turns into an underdog boxing match, with the winner of the bout being assured of parole. Decidedly as raw as low-budget filmmaking was at the time, Penitentiary has roughly a napkin’s worth of plot stretched over 99 minutes, sometimes in the most obvious of ways – how else can you explain the sequences of inmates sharing a few intimate moments with girls in the prison’s bathroom? I’m not objecting on aesthetic grounds – the girls are attractive – but it does highlight that the film often slows to a halt in-between its weightier thematic material (the prison being a metaphor for, well, yes) and plot progression. The boxing sequences are raw (the worst being the sweaty and bloody bare-knuckles fight that marks the end of the first act) and so is the rest of the film, but Penitentiary is watchable enough – even though I like Fanaka’s Emma Mae quite a bit better.

  • Babes on Broadway (1941)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2022) I’m going to make this review rather short, considering that it could almost double as the one I just wrote about is quasi-prequel Babes in Arms.   Here goes: Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney both star in this Broadway-themed variation on the “backyard musicals” they so often did together in the early stages of their career. She sings, he emcees and together they put on a show. Much of the filmmaking crew is the same, working under the celebrated Freed Unit of MGM musicals. There’s quite a bit of wartime propaganda, including pulling up a few adorable British poppets for sympathy. Alas, well, the film does introduce its climax with, well, let me quote that for you: “What’s wrong with doing something old? Something tried and true. Well, how about a minstrel show? Does that appeal to you? A good old-fashioned minstrel show!” at which point twenty-first century audiences are screaming NOOOOO. That’s right: after a rather sweet and unremarkable film, Babes on Broadway, exactly like Babes in Arms, concludes with an expansive Busby Berkeley extravaganza featuring… dozens of people in blackface. As with the first film, it’s a significant minus in a movie that doesn’t have a lot of unique pluses. It’s exactly why it’s one of the least-seen, least-broadcast Arthur Freed-produced musicals in the twenty-first century. (Whenever it dusts it off, TCM is careful to accompany it with a verbal warning AND a blackface documentary as follow-up.)  See it once to say that you did, then never think about it again.

  • The Beast Must Die (1974)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2022) There’s something almost endearing at the showmanship of William Castle-inspired filmmakers that deliberately broke the fourth wall of film in order to draw in their audiences. So it is that The Best Must Die begins with a dare to the audiences: we’re told it’s a mystery in which one of the characters is a werewolf, and the film will stop at some point to ask audiences to guess which character it is. What follows is a surprisingly conventional film that’s often better in concept than execution: a wealthy man bringing together a number of people in his isolated British estate, where they have to guess which one of them is an actual werewolf. At some point, the film indeed stops to ask the big question during its “werewolf break,” and if you’re guessing that this was all a device added in post-production, you’re right – and film history records that director Paul Annett hated it. But it does add a certain grandiose panache to the result, adding to the rather cozy isolated-manor mystery. Playing with the usual tropes of the subgenre, The Beast Must Die does have a few interesting moments and performances – including lead roles for black actors (Calvin Lockhart and the beautiful Marlene Clark) in an otherwise white-cast British film, some deliciously over-the-top moments and Peter Cushing to deliver some tasty exposition. The Beast Must Die is not that good (if you’re expecting werewolf transformation special effects, look elsewhere) but it is decently fun, and the “Werewolf Break” certainly plays into this kind of fun all right.

  • Babes in Arms (1939)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2022) I’m down to my last three films in the filmography of celebrated MGM producer Arthur Freed, and aside from meaningless bragging rights, my big motivation at this stage is understanding why those last three films are indeed the last three films. Why aren’t they broadcast more often on TCM? What explains their obscurity? In the case of Brigadoon, it’s easy – the film somehow isn’t licensed for broadcast in Canada by TCM. In the case of Babes in Arms and Babes on Broadway, the answer can be found in the films themselves. Babes in Arms has the distinction of being the first film to put perennial screen couple Judy Garland and Andy Rooney in lead roles outside the Andy Hardy films. Both of them were established leads in MGM’s stable, but this was the first time they were featured in starring roles that didn’t depend on an existing franchise. This being said, the film would not strike out all that far from comfort: the template reused here was familiar to the studio – “backyard musicals” with boy-and-girl-next-door, often putting on a show in order to save a local orphanage or some such: Rooney can emcee, Garland can sing and that’s the crux of what brought audiences in theatres. “Good Morning” was written for this film (and reused a few years later to iconic effect in Singin’ in the Rain), while Busby Berkeley’s direction hits a predictable climax right for the finale. Alas, that climax is the problem with the picture, and the reason why it’s not broadcast very frequently on TCM – and when it is, it’s accompanied by a verbal warning and a special documentary as epilogue. Yes, you guessed it: Blackface. A lot of blackface. Unrepentant, joyously lavish, and completely un-self-aware blackface. There’s a now stomach-churning contrast between the boyish-and-girlish glee of the film, the big smile of Rooney’s acting and the sweetness of Garland’s singing (not yet beaten down by Hollywood) and the baffling racism of blackface. It’s enough to explain why Babes in Arms finds itself way, way, way down the twenty-first century list of favourite Freed Unit films. It probably doesn’t help that the film has an absence of extraordinary qualities to make up for this significant problem – even if you can get over the blackface as a historical artefact, Babes in Arms doesn’t offer anything that hasn’t been done better elsewhere – in the Andy Hardy movies, in other Busby Berkeley films or in Singin’ in the Rain. I’m glad I’ve seen it – but I can’t imagine willingly revisiting this one in its entirety.

  • Sauve qui peut (la vie) [Every Man for Himself] (1980)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2022) In the grand overall view of Jean-Luc Godard’s filmography, 1980’s Sauve qui peut (la vie) is often regarded as his return to more conventional filmmaking after the more political and unpalatable films of the late 1960s and 1970s. This doesn’t mean a completely traditional viewing experience, though, as the film plays with three characters’ perspectives, a musical theme, some filmmaking flourishes and an obstinate refusal to hold the hand of its viewers. Plus: a focus on prostitution (always a Godard favourite) and a relentlessly downbeat finale that doesn’t exactly land hard when the rest of the film is so uninvolving. Isabelle Huppert offers a bit of starpower, but the biggest star on display remains Godard, as he gets back to a certain narrative cinema while losing none of his iconoclastic quirks, even when it’s not in the service of the viewers. Some will like it and many more won’t, but as far as I’m concerned, Sauve qui peut (la vie) is more interesting as landmark in Godard’s filmography than pleasant to watch.

  • The Heroes of Telemark (1965)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, June 2022) As far as WW2 war movies go, The Heroes of Telemark is clearly in the 1960s mould – still very much thinking that war is an adventure, but with a few growing signs that it may be hell from time to time. The hook here is the subject matter and, in many ways, the setting – Taking place in Norway and talking about the heavy water research program that -if not sabotaged- could have led the Nazis to the nuclear bomb, it’s a war film that eschews grand battle sequences in favour of a more thriller-like approach with smaller thrills and a more focused feel. Kirk Douglas stars as a Norwegian physics professor (!) who ends up discovering his inner action hero when recruited by the British for a sabotage operation. It’s loosely based on a true story, if that’s any help. The Norwegian setting is clearly an attraction here, with the climax being set on a ferry crossing a fjord – the film was clearly shot on location, and offers, at least visually, something slightly different from other commando-raid films of WW2. (Although the grim reality, compared to the save-the-kids thrust of the film’s final action sequence, is that 18 people died when the ferry was sunk.)  Director Anthony Mann keeps it moving, even if the pacing and intensity do not compare to latter films in similar genres. Douglas fans will like his square-jawed take on a reluctant action hero, and the mountainous backdrop has something new to offer even to seasoned WW2 buffs.

  • Constantine: City of Demons (2018)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, June 2022) My expectations regarding DC animated films have been finely honed and lowered over time: I’m not expecting greatness as much as I’m curious to see what spin they (being lower-risk investments than the prestige live-action films) will bring to a familiar character… or simply recapture the nature of a fan favourite for 90 minutes. As one of the many who regret that the 2005 film adaptation of Constantine never led to a sequel or further live-action film follow-ups, I was just curious to see if the animated Constantine: City of Demons would manage to spend 90 minutes just playing around with the pleasantly dark fantasy universe in which the character usually evolves. To my surprise… it succeeds at exactly that. Living in a noir demimonde of demons and human vice, this Constantine is jaded about the occult, and is asked to help a friend’s daughter get out of an unnatural coma. The film does well at creating a specific atmosphere and sticking to it – and in terms of pacing, it doesn’t show too much its origins as a series of five web-published episodes. Constantine’s character is given some room to spread, and the ending is pleasantly glum in the consequences of so many occult shenanigans. In other words, it’s a rather good 90 minutes spent with Constantine – sure, the animation could be more detailed, and the script is often a bit too slack-paced. But City of Demons delivers on what it intends to, delivers a coherent self-contained story and in these aspects feels just a bit better than many of the other DC Comics animated films.

  • 2 ou 3 choses que je sais d’elle (1967)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2022) The first thing that comes to mind while watching Jean-Luc Godard’s 2 ou 3 choses que je sais d’elle is some kind of amazement that it’s seen as a film statement from a major director rather than an incoherent and pretentious Youtube-level video essay crafted by some crazy guy in his basement. Oh, sure, there’s a world of difference between Godard and just some guy with a video camera and way too much time, especially by 1967. Godard had already done more for filmmaking art by that time than hundreds of so-called YouTubers, and even his slide in kookiness throughout the 1960s could still be seen as a charming step forward for his artistic evolution. Then there’s a remarkable difference in clout between having the bankability of someone like Godard going all-out on the parallels between rampant urbanization, capitalism and prostitution compared to just some guy putting such sites on a video-sharing site. But in the grand grinder of history, I really wonder if the only thing separating 2 ou 3 choses que je sais d’elle from Youtube essays in a few decades will be that this one is associated to a director having delivered polished narrative films. Suffice to say that I didn’t enjoy it all that much – Godard literally whispers his narration over shorts of urban landscapes, a perfunctory set of narrative scenes alluding at daytime prostitution (a surprisingly popular idea throughout 1960s–1970s French cinema) to increasingly exasperating effect. It makes a grander statement in Godard’s filmography, though: one of a good artist getting far too big for his britches and turning not only political (a justifiable turn in 1967 France), but being crazy and pretentious about it. Gone was the playful filmmaker spinning his own distinctive take on American archetypes, replaced by long decades of doing essentially what we wanted, and critics trying to be nice about it. As much as I don’t enjoy that part of his career over the earlier one, the one-two 1967 punch of La Chinoise and 2 ou 3 choses que je sais d’elle is vital to tracking his entire filmography and his “political” years from 1968 to 1980. But you’ll notice that fewer people ever talk about that essentially the disposable phase of his career…

  • Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore (2022)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2022) I am not convinced at all that there’s anyone competent at the helm of the “Wizarding World” franchise. Not writer J. K. Rowling, clearly unable to keep the story straight now that she’s out of the Harry Potter cycle. Not perennial series director David Yates, who can helm efficiently but is unable to improve the material he’s given. And certainly not the executives at Warner Brothers mismanaging yet another franchise into the ground. How else to explain the zig-zags and multi-level inconsistencies to plague even a trilogy with the same creative people? The first Fantastic Beasts film was laborious, but had a few interesting ideas about how to reinvent a fantasy series protagonist. Then the second film went crazy in another direction with magic Nazis, incoherent plotting, a bunch of new characters and inconsistent characterization for those that returned. Now, in Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore, the good news is that this third entry is a marked step better than the previous one… but that the inconsistency and incoherencies are worse than ever, and any trust that the series knows where it’s going has been shattered. The story is more focused on a specific plot, what with the accession of the evil wizard Grindlewald to political power, and the merry crew associated with Dumbledore trying to prevent that. There are glimpses of competence in the way it’s put together, whether we’re talking at the surface level of the presentation or the deeper mechanics of storytelling and worldbuilding. (Although those wizards are certifiable morons when it comes to democratic institutions.)  Still, it’s hard to be all that enthusiastic about the result when it’s jerking around so much – I’ve seen unrelated triple-bills with more narrative and thematic consistency than this so-called trilogy. As with the new Star Wars sequel trilogy, it’s rather amazing that no one sat down to write a coherent plan for a massive filmmaking/cultural investment and then stuck to it. Although that same elementary mistake may become amusing if you’re the kind of person that despairs at the algorithmic determinism of powerful profit-making entities. No matter the cold alien mindset that leads to “intellectual property management” taking over “plain old storytelling,” everyone is humanly fallible, from writers trying to craft narratives to megacorporations built for quarterly earning report maximization. The Secrets of Dumbledore may not be worth buying on 4K UHD, but it’s almost comforting in how the evil wizards of corporate accounting don’t get to win over the merry crew of messy creations.

  • Ging chaat goo si juk jaap [Jackie Chan’s Police Story 2] (1988)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2022) Amazingly enough, my Jackie Chan binge-watching mania of the 1990s apparently didn’t include Police Story 2. I probably made the jump straight from the first to the third film, which makes sense – both of them are acknowledged Chan classics, whereas the second instalment is merely… good. This time, mad bombers are going wild in Hong Kong and it’s up to Chan to stop them. Let’s be blunt: there’s little here that competes with the glorious madness of the first film’s shantytown destruction, bus-catching or glass-smashing climax. But it’s impressive in its own lower-key way. Once again, the Chan team of stuntmen goes for broken bones in capturing great sequences and fights on-screen. The pacing of the film is generally slower but more controlled: there’s a better sense here of action progression, with the set-pieces becoming bigger and better until the (at last!) explosive finale. Chan gets to have a few fights taking advantage of his environment, always a trademark, and there’s even a distinctive enemy to fight against. Police Story 2 is a decent follow-up to the first film even if it’s not as impressive – you seldom go wrong with Jackie Chan films of the 1980s, and this one proves it.

  • State Fair (1945)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2022) As someone who comes from a semi-rural background where county fairs were quite a thing (all the way to my grandmother winning a fermière de l’année award), I can’t quite deny the nostalgic appeal of State Fair, a dirt-simple comedy in which a family travels to the Iowa State Fair for a few days, with the teenage kids falling in love and all family members experiencing an episodic succession of shenanigans. It’s not the 1962 version, which featured Ann-Margret in a supporting role. But it’s not the 1933 version either – this one is in colour, and has a handful of songs to keep things musical. Director Walter Lang plays up the good-old-time aspect, with nothing of great consequence happening throughout the end and plenty of folksy references. It’s not bad – not terrific either, but then again, I’ve never been much of a Rodgers and Hammerstein fan. It’s getting me curious about the 1933 version, though…

  • Masters of the Universe (1987)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2022) I’m old enough to have been in the right age group when the Masters of the Universe toys came out (but never played with them), when the tie-in series was broadcast (but didn’t watch it) and when the film was released (but didn’t see it until now). As a result, I’m approaching Masters of the Universe without any sentimental or nostalgic attachment… and I strongly suspect that any reaction to the film hinges on that. From most perspectives, the film is flat-out terrible. The script is for kids (how could it be otherwise, trying to sell toys?), the execution is constantly hobbled by the state of 1980s special effects technology, the acting is unequal and the film doesn’t have much to keep adult audiences interested. If you’re in a generous mood, you can sort-of-see the elements of a cult film in the results: an obtuse mythology begging to differentiate between true fans and casuals; Dolph Lundgren muscling it up as He-Man but being outclassed by Frank Langella chewing universes of scenery as Skeletor. Courteney Cox has an early role here, and Meg Foster is often arresting as the villainess. While Masters of the Universe doesn’t do much to dress up its mercenary intentions, it’s handled with a blunt candour that’s sometimes disarming. Still, it’s weak sauce compared to the other fantasy films of the 1980s, and if you’re going to play in the overblown campy registry, then you’ll always lose a head-to-had comparison with Flash Gordon. Not coming to Masters of the Universe with a pre-packaged liking, I’m left underwhelmed.

  • Mass (2021)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2022) If I had stopped watching Mass half an hour in, I would have hated it. Even forty-five minutes in, I wasn’t all that convinced that I’d like it. It is, after all, a film whose early moments are designed to make you uncomfortable. There’s meaningless chatter between people working in a church about organizing some kind of very touchy meeting between the two parties. Everyone is terrified of doing something wrong, and the rhythm of the film pauses on every single awkward moment. After a while, we meet our two parties – two middle-aged couples—and lock ourselves in the small meeting room in which most of the subsequent drama will take place. I would normally stop with the plot, but here’s the added touch that brings us to the crux of the film: One couple had their son die in a school shooting, and the other couple were the parents of the (deceased) shooter. To say that the two couples are uncomfortable with each other is an incredible understatement – there’s this sense that the film is constantly a moment or a careless remark away from one person strangling another. Much of Mass, once past the prologue, is strictly a theatrical performance taking place in near-real time, with the four people trying to understand each other and their kids’ actions. Credible personalities emerge from the dialogue, with a number of set-pieces enlivening a film purely based on dialogue (challenged for not knowing the details of their son’s death, the father of the shooter rattles off the names of every single victim and how they died). Writer-director Fran Kranz’s Mass remains a deeply troubling and uncomfortable film – no one will be blamed for heading for the exits at the earliest opportunity. But it eventually becomes quite effective at what it tries to do, and even ends on a note of… something better by the end of the film, once truths spill out and characters understand each other. I despise that school shootings are common enough that this film is in any way “relatable” (and I write this as the news relays details of another school shooting that will change absolutely nothing in the American psychopathy of gun ownership) but Mass doesn’t feel exploitative or sensational – it eventually puts everything together into an intense, claustrophobic drama that doesn’t get to blink or cut away from the tension building between its characters. Give it a chance to get over the initial hump, and the result may surprise you.

  • La mécanique de l’ombre [The Eavesdropper aka Scribe] (2016)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, June 2022) There’s something subtle and almost constantly creepy about the thrills in La mécanique de l’ombre, a French thriller that takes a stylish and austere approach that underplays the violence inherent to the plot. It begins with the alcohol and stress-fuelled breakdown of a middle-aged professional (François Cluzet, very credible), who finds himself unemployed and apparently unemployable… until he gets a mysterious job offer transcribing phone conversations for a mysterious employer. All strictly low-tech. Fed only scraps of explanation, we eventually figure out that he’s been hired by a parallel intelligence service working for shadowy forces: deadly, ruthless and opposed to the state’s intelligence services. The rest of the film’s paranoia-fuelled plot you can imagine for yourself – although the scene in which he’s asked to transcribe his own “secure” conversation with a senior intelligence officer is the film’s biggest highlight. Clearly going for murky nihilism rather than any kind of heroics (although the protagonist does get a few shots in), La mécanique de l’ombre is executed with a cold stylish flair by writer-director Thomas Kruithof. The romantic sub-lot is perfunctory and the intentional lack of triumph will frustrate many, but that’s the name of this game – the film clearly owes much to the troubled Le Carré school of spycraft when the stakes are high and yet ultimately meaningless. La mécanique de l’ombre is not meant to be loved or even liked, but it’s an entertaining watch if you’re willing to play along with its glum tone.

  • Emma Mae aka Black Sister’s Revenge (1976)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2022) Well, isn’t this interesting. I’ve had the occasion, a few months ago, to write a thorough history of American Black cinema, and there was one section I wasn’t happy about: How did Blaxploitation turn into the social-issues-driven black cinema of the late 1980s? Well, Emma Mae offers at least part of the missing link, and unlocks a doorway to a less popular era of black filmmaking. Coming from writer-director Jamaa Fanaka, this is a glimpse into the L.A. Rebellion movement that offered a raw black alternative to Hollywood. A look at Emma Mae reveals a film almost perfectly balanced between Gordon Parks and Spike Lee, as a young woman from Mississippi ends up in Los Angeles and becomes a moll for a local gangster. When he’s locked up and in need of bail money, she takes matters into her own hands and starts planning a bank robbery. While this sounds like a straight-up genre exercise, there’s an almost neo-realistic quality to the way the film portrays life in black neighbourhoods – with terrific 1970s hairstyles and fashion. The film is also more socially-minded than most in ending on a note of futility for the heroine, as she berates the men for being involved in trivial criminal activities. Jerri Hayes is quite good as the titular Emma Mae, but the film itself is the revelation for me – helping fill out a period in black film history that doesn’t always get as much attention as the blaxploitation movement or the new social revindications of the late 1980s onward. I’ll be back for more.