Reviews

  • Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, J.K. Rowling

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    Scholastic, 1999, 341 pages, US$6.99 tpb, ISBN 0-439-06487-2

    Second year at Hogwarts, and a second year of assorted trouble for boy wizard Harry Potter, who probably doesn’t need any introduction. Now that we’ve been introduced to the students, teachers and support staff at Hogwarts, this story feels free to dig deeper in the whole universe created by J.K. Rowling for her series. Fortunately so, for this is what makes the Chamber of Secrets so enjoyable this time around.

    It’s not as if this volume is so dissimilar, plot-wise, from the first novel. Once again, Harry must confront a mystery, endure random sniping from unfriendly peers and rely on his friends. Mix in a few classes, quiddich matches, magical tricks, sinister reminders of Voldemort’s power and you’ve got a well-rounded adventure that runs the danger of reading a lot like the first one.

    But everyone on all three sides of the pages is growing up. J.K. Rowling is more comfortable writing about her universe, Harry and friends are one year older, and so are the readers. Unlike many kids’ series, the Harry Potter Series seems written “in real time”, allowing for kids to grow up as the novels are released.

    While the results of this evolution are still (mostly) forthcoming as The Chamber of Secrets is read, attentive readers can already see the germs of future conflicts in this volume. Rowling takes the opportunity offered by a visit through the seedier side of Diagon Alley to make us glimpse a magical universe that’s far deeper than anyone had hitherto suspected. Magic even has a civil service, which depends on good-natured public servants much like in ours. Is class warfare coming up? Well, it’s a British book: what do you think?

    More directly, Rowling touches upon the touchy implications of “magically-gifted” persons in the “real” world and the inevitable muggle-wizard relationships. Discrimination appears at Hogwarts, drawing a none-too-clear divide between the pure-blood aristocracy and the more “populist” wizard population. Yes, this series is definitely growing up.

    A side effect of this added depth is an added interest for readers already used to the fantasy genre. Whereas many (including your truly) were prompt in quibbling that the first volume contained nothing especially new, this second volume helps in establishing the series for what it is, a fully-imagined universe that can support itself without references to other previous mythologies. For all the above complaints about the similarity of the intrigues, Chamber of Secrets curiously feels more original than the first volume. Go figure.

    It helps, obviously, that Rowling’s addictive writing style stays clear and compelling. Reading Harry Potter has a charm of its own, and so don’t be surprised to plan your life around the time you’ll be putting aside to read this book. It’s that good, and even makes the book critic-proof to some degree; when you’re having this much comfortable fun reading about Harry and friends, why complain?

    The success of Harry Potter speaks for itself, and I’m not adding much to the discussion by pointing out that these books are, in fact, a heck of a lot of fun. Though I still intend to read the books as the movies come out, I’m having a harder and harder time justifying that decision; you mean there are at least two more books to read, available right now? Gee, I don’t know…

  • Die Another Day (2002)

    Die Another Day (2002)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In theaters, November 2002) Forty years after Doctor No, James Bond is back with his twentieth movie, and Die Another Day is kind of a half-hearted renewal. In the first hour, we actually see something new: James Bond failing and being captured. Shocking! you say as the suave British spy does things never seen before. He is tortured (with a Madonna song, appropriately enough), exchanged for another prisoner and has to fight his way back in the service. Tons of winks to previous Bond adventures are there for the sharp-eyed viewer, including a further nod to “the original James Bond” for those hardcore Bond fans. The only sour notes come from Halle Berry, whose Jinx has to be one of the worst Bond Girl ever: her line delivery is flat and perfunctory, with the added disadvantage of a crass attitude that make Bond look downright humble. Yikes! The second half of the film isn’t as appealing, given that it simply delivers Yet Another Bond Adventure with the usual trappings, boring action sequences and overlong finale. Jinx is scarcely worth rescuing, the villains are flat, the directing/editing gets more and more incoherent as the film goes along and some truly hideous CGI shots (Bond surfing amongst the icebergs) contaminate the otherwise good visuals. I did like parts of the end sequence, but the rest is just dull, dull, dull… Still, it’s hard not to like Rosamund Pike and the sword-fighting sequence. Add those to the good first hour, and we’ve got a better-than average Bond. Which is all you need, really.

    (Second viewing, Jellyfin streaming, January 2025) Oof; I hadn’t seen Die Another Day in more than two decades and had forgotten almost all of it.  The good news are that it had a lot that I didn’t remember, and the bad news are that I had forgotten just how much of a sub-standard Bond it was. Oh, I don’t dislike all of it — it’s fun, after the dour and brooding Craig era, to see Bond in a good old over-the-top 1990s action movie adventure.  There are fancy gadgets, megalomaniac villains, spy films twists and turns, baby-faced Rosamund Pike looking very cute, and Pierce Brosnan being pretty good in the middle of it all.  The problem is that the rest of the film has severe problems.  Preposterous villain, irritating Bond girl (Halle Berry, wasted), slap-dash CGI sequences, too-frenetic editing, insipid writing and references to the franchise’s history that often feel hammered in.  Also, I don’t like Samantha Bond as Moneypenny.  Revisiting Die Another Day after watching a lot of the other Bond films leads me to reassess my first-viewing opinion — everything right and wrong I’ve noticed back in 2002 still stands, but the result is definitely in the lower tier of the series. Still fun to watch, though.

  • Bollywood/Hollywood (2002)

    Bollywood/Hollywood (2002)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In theaters, November 2002) For a while, this film nearly doesn’t work. Hampered by its low budget, lousy audio, choppy editing, lame comic timing and overall lack of Ooomph, this Canadian Bollywood take-off sputters. Fortunately the luscious Lisa Ray (oooh!) appears on-screen in a tight angora sweatshirt (double oooh!) and this unforgettable sight is soon followed by a fantastic musical number starring Bollywood celebrity Akshaye Khanna. Then we’re ready to follow the film along, wherever it leads. Even if it’s in familiar Pretty Woman territory, despite the self-awareness of director Deepa Mehta’s script. As is the norm with Indian films, the story definitely takes a back seat to the musical numbers (of which there are too few) and the megawatt charm of the leads. The nearly-local Toronto backdrop adds to the enjoyment. Other highlights include a fun group musical number atop an apartment building, a credit sequence starring the film’s crew and amusing subtitles that tell you exactly what the scenes are about. It all amounts to, what else, a fine time at the movies. I could quibble with a lot of other things, but this is the kind of film where I’d feel guilty doing so. Viewers with a deeper familiarity with Bollywood will undoubtedly get more out of this film than I did. I just wish a bigger budget could have accommodated a few more dancers, a few more numbers and a better sound quality.

  • 8 Mile (2002)

    8 Mile (2002)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In theaters, November 2002) The biggest surprise of this film is not how conventional it actually is, but how much it doesn’t suck, especially as a pop music star vehicle. I may or may not like Marshall Bruce Mathers III / Slim Shady / Eminem (a rapper who sells because he annoys the parents of his target audience… gee, that’s an original tactic for anyone who doesn’t remember Elvis, KISS, Public Enemy, Ice-T, Marilyn Manson and dozen of others) but he seems willing to take chances in this project, and the film works because of this willingness. It’s not as if he’s stretching; this tale-from-the-hood protagonist is everyone’s archetypical underdog, and the structure of 8 Mile is immediately familiar to anyone who’s seen a sports film or two. (Still, the silliness of the intrigue is obvious whenever one tries to summarize the film: “So this guy’s having trouble with his mom, his girlfriend, his work, his friends, his car… but then he says poetry to another guy on a stage and like -bang- he wins everything, man!”) But when it works, it works, and after seeing 90 minutes of Jimmy “Rabbit” Smith getting humiliated, beaten up, trodden upon and cheated on, it’s curiously satisfying to see him get the upper hand by acknowledging the reality of his situation. Mathers may not be much of an actor, but he does have a quality that makes him compelling for the film’s duration. Director Curtis Hanson’s done a good job with material that might have bombed in any other hands. As is stands, 8 Mile might not be anything spectacular, but it’s more than good enough for what it tries to be.

  • The Years of Rice and Salt, Kim Stanley Robinson

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    Bantam, 2002, 658 pages, C$38.95 hc, ISBN 0-553-10920-0

    The rarest novels are those that ultimately make you doubt that they were, in fact, written by a single human. The Years of Rice and Salt is a bit like that; a story so big, so ambitious and so convincing it’s hard to imagine one single person coming up with all of this stuff. It’s not a terribly entertaining novel, but it’s a very impressive one.

    It starts with a a very big bang: In the fourteenth century of the Christian Calendar, an Arab expedition in Europe finds the continent empty of human life. The Black Plague has passed, and instead of killing one in three, it has felled more than 99% of the population. In one stoke, Christianity has become a historical curiosity, leaving the planet to other civilizations.

    It’s an ambitious conceit, and Robinson finds a way to tell us what happens for the next centuries without necessarily abandoning his protagonists. Through reincarnation, our two main characters, K. (Kyu, Katima, Kheim, Khalid, etc.) and B. (Bold, Bistami, Butterfly, Bahram, etc.) witness the gradual evolution of this new world, so totally unlike ours. Though they seldom remember their previous incarnations, K and B keep the same personalities: K is aggressive, adventurous and driven whereas B is cautious, quiet and fatalistic. Other minor characters (from A. to Z, one could say) also pop up here and there again and again; a character guide might be necessary to keep up with all their incarnations.

    But through the story of K and B, Robinson also tells the story of civilization, each advance propelled by Ks, but shored up and integrated by Bs. The alternate universe in The Years of Rice and Salt isn’t necessarily better or worse than ours, being peopled with humans just as ours is. But the sweep of this imagined history is awe-inspiring. From alternate technological developments to a decades-long World War to a very different “North America”, Robinson delivers such a staggering achievement that readers might blink once or twice before the magnitude of the effort.

    The recognition of such ambition does a lot to compensate for some of the weaker parts of the book. Not every section is equally compelling, and so it is that such sections as “The Alchemist” (a beautifully-written segment about the alternate birth of modern science thanks to a charlatan turned scientist) and “Nsara” (Feminism triumphant) are far more interesting than the rest of the book. Robinson really gets cooking whenever he can marry sweeping historical currents to personal struggles. Alas, whole sections of the book seem perfunctory at best. We’ll read them in order to get to the next part.

    There is a similarity between this novel and Robinson’s own Mars Trilogy, mostly in terms of political argumentation (which is not as vigorous here, mind you) and historical sweep. In terms of writing, however, The Years of Rice and Salt is uneven, sometimes deliberately so: Parts of the books are written in different styles, with occasional digressions by the narrator, side notes, poetry excerpts and other superficial differences.

    Students and scholars will probably analyze this novel to death over the next few years; sympathies and best wishes on those working on their essays! Certainly, this novel contains enough material to keep everyone busy: the mix of religious, political, scientific and historical material is provocative. Even Robinson’s closing argument on the ever-progressing nature of the human race just happened to mesh with this reviewer’s musings. At a time (in this particular universe) where Islam and Christianity are looking for ways to understand each other, this can only help.

    Stuffed with interesting ideas and one of the most ambitious premises in a while, The Years of Rice and Salt might not be as immediately compelling as Robinson’s Mars Trilogy, but it certainly contains enough material to reward patient readers. Subsequent reads might even help unlock some of the book’s deeper themes. It’s such a big book that it’s hard to believe that one author could write it at all. Even if that writer happens to be Kim Stanley Robinson.

  • ClearWater, Bill Buchanan

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    Berkley, 2000, 475 pages, C$9.99 mmpb, ISBN 0-425-17364-X

    There is something about technothrillers—their disregard for literary values, their techno-fetishism and their infallible sense of right and wrong—that simply makes me comfortable. Some people read romance to reassure their world-view; I reach for techno-thrillers. It’s not a political thing (as a Canadian, most of my American readers will easily lump me in the “liberal” end of the spectrum) but it is definitely an ideological preference: I like technology, I’m fascinated by political/military matters and from time to time, I wish that the world wasn’t as messy as it actually is.

    So to me, even very average technothrillers like Bill Buchanan’s ClearWater possess a value that, say, average romance novels won’t. While other readers may slog through this novel without much enthusiasm, I’m quite willing to forgo traditional dramatic values if Buchanan’s willing to pack in one more cool gadget.

    Certainly, there isn’t anything wrong with ClearWater‘s premise: In the near future (the novel takes place in 2008) the US has developed a way to track submarines around the globe, wherever they may be. (Well, as long as they’re no deeper than a hundred meters, which is standard operating depths for most submarines anyway) The impacts of this innovation are far-reaching and highly unsettling for smaller countries without defence for this technology. One of them reacts, and hijacks an American submarine with the intention of using its offensive capabilities to attack targets around the Pacific Rim. Naturally enough, this causes everyone to race against the clock…

    Let’s make it very clear from the onset that there isn’t much in terms of characterisation here. There’s an evil antagonist, a few protagonists and most of the time, their characterisation is dictated by the demands of their moral alignment and their job. It’s a telling thing when the back-cover jacket blurb doesn’t even mention a character’s name… As with many thrillers of the genre, humans are pieces to move on the game-board, not characters worth exploring in their own right. In fact, whenever Buchanan attempts to deal with human emotions, he either doesn’t succeed, turns to cynical clichés or abandons his efforts well before they can succeed.

    What’s eventually more frustrating is the plot. While the first half is well-handled, things begin to disintegrate in the second, as the ClearWater technology turns to be somewhat extraneous to the plot (you can remove it and, yes, the novel suffers a bit, but not that much), the hijacking of the submarine turns out to have a tenuous relation to something else, some long-awaited payoffs are glossed over and the ending doesn’t conclude anything as much as it winds down to a stop, leaving a considerable amount of loose ends still untied. (Or dismissed with a casual “but that’s another story”) I’m not sure if Buchanan sort of lost interest in his own story (heck, he even skips over a whole ground war!) or if it was something he’d planned all along, but ClearWater‘s resolution is one of the most unsatisfying I’ve read recently.

    I could also quibble about the lack of dramatic focus around clearly-identified protagonists, an unpleasant scene about women in submarines (maybe realistic, but I didn’t care for it) and the relative incapacity of the “good guys” to do anything. (Indeed, save for a few occasions, it looks that most of the “lucky breaks” come from mishaps, mistakes and sheer luck rather than their actions.)

    No matter: While I wasn’t much impressed by ClearWater (no cool scenes, tell-not-show and a definite lack of dramatic tension are my main problems), I’m not terribly disappointed either. It’s got one or two good ideas, and that -plus the genre comfort factor- makes it a worthwhile read. You may have a very different take on the subject, though…

  • Dianetics, L.Ron Hubbard

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    Bridge, 1950 (1987 revision), 628 pages, C$6.95 mmpb, ISBN 0-88404-279-0

    This is how Dianetics begins:

    Important Note: In reading this book, be very certain you never go past a word you do not understand. The only reason a person gives up a study or becomes confused or unable to learn is because he or she has gone past a word that was not understood. [P.viii, bold in text]

    Okay, so how about the following reasons: A person may give up because the writing style is so redundant that even clear language wouldn’t help. A person might give up because the author himself doesn’t have a clue what he’s writing about. A person might give up because the writing style is juvenile despite (or even because) a pretentious vocabulary. A person might give up because they realize that what they’re reading is total garbage.

    I haven’t been shy, elsewhere, in dismissing Scientology as a sham and a cult based on nonsense. The information is available elsewhere for your own edification. But even then, I wanted to give a chance to “The Book” that started it all, Dianetics, in the hope that I may be wrong.

    Turns out I didn’t have the slightest clue how much crap is at the foundation of Scientology.

    Readers with the internal fortitude to read the entirety of Dianetics will go through three stages. The first is bewilderment, as they’ll try to wrestle with L. Ron Hubbard’s embarrassing writing style. The opening “Important Note” is only a mere warning against the awful prose in which this piece of trash is written. Seemingly written for none-too-bright teenagers, Dianetics is nevertheless sprinkled with pretentious vocabulary that’s as ridiculous as it’s unnecessary. The book contains hundreds of footnotes referring to definitions, but when you see footnotes like “11. craven: cowardly.” [P.205] or “21. harlot: a prostitute” [P.323], it’s obvious that Elron’s just playing at sounding smart. The writing style is even worse; nonsensical phrases are written as if they meant something and then immediately followed by patronizing passages that assume that the audience is a bunch of morons.

    Bafflement leaves place to amusement, and it’s not uncommon to encounter passages so insane that they can only elicit laughter. (Merely take the straight-faced citation of Shakespeare as a scientist [P.173] as a particularly incongruous passage) It turns out that according to Dianetics, all can be explained by trauma-induced “engrams”, harmful mental patterns that can be formed even inside the womb. (Allow me to cite once more: “The engram is not a memory; it is a cellular trace of recording impinged deeply into the very structure of the body itself” [P.140, italics in text]) The mind is a computer, and knowing how to debug engrams can set you free. Sounds iffy? It’s even worse in the book: “An engram received from Father beating Mother which says “Take thay! Take it, I tell you. You’ve got to take it!” means that our patient has possibly had tendencies as a kleptomaniac.” [P.281] Hubbard’s tirades against psychologists, hypnotists and “Juniors” are especially amusing, especially when you realise that Dianetics is a brain-damaged take-off on Freudian psychiatry, and the so-called treatment nothing more than a form of ill-guided hypnosis.

    But as you go along, amusement will eventually turn to fierce loathing. Hubbard’s view that homosexuality is an illness “extremely dangerous to society” [P.140] is disturbing, nearly as much as his warped vision of society. According to him, it seems that all husbands beat their wives regularly, adultery is widespread (especially for pregnant women), “attempted abortion is very common” [P.211] and women generally do their best to screw up their own children.

    Would you trust this man? The real shock of the book comes as you realize that, yes; people actually fall for that stuff. Even without knowing about the ludicrous “Operating Thetan” garbage of higher-level Scientology, people fell for Dianetics, maybe taken by the false impression that Elron was discussing “touchy matters” in a repressive age.

    In some ways, Dianetics reminded me a little of Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged, by the way a thick book can convince a lot of people. Where the comparison fails for me is that it insults Rand’s followers: While Objectivists might be selfish and rude, Scientologists are just plain nuts. There’s no real contest which group I’d rather hang with, given the unpleasant choice.

    I may be restating the obvious, but Dianetics is one of the most odious books I have had the misfortune to read. Horribly written, devoid of any basis in reality as we know it and an affront to both intelligence and good taste, Dianetics is a masterpiece of crackpot literature. Stay far, far away from this book. Unless you want to double-check what I’m writing, in which case you will quickly realize that the above review barely understates the true insanity of Dianetics. Have fun…

  • The Transporter (2002)

    The Transporter (2002)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In theaters, October 2002) The worldwide hybridization of action films continues (after, say, Kiss Of The Dragon) with this French-written, American-financed, Chinese-directed film. Like most similar attempts at combining different strains of the action genre, this one falls a little bit on its face. For starters, the writing is simply juvenile, jumping from situation to situation without grace or cleverness. The romantic angle is particularly ill-handled, skipping straight -like so many awful films- from flirtation to sweaty sex scenes. (Alas, we see nothing) It’s written by Luc Besson, so don’t be too surprised if it feels a lot like a teenager’s fantasy. The opening scene even segues straight from his Taxi scripts, minus the quirky French lack of polish. The directing (by Hong Kong maven Cory Yuen) is too choppy to be effective, though some fight scenes show a lot of imagination and some shots are a bit nervy. This aside, the best reason to see the film is for lead actor Jason Statham, who here solidifies his potential as an action star. His ex-SAS operative protagonist is one of the most credible action heroes in recent memory, and his showing ought to give Vin Diesel a run for his money. The fight choreography also shows him handling a heck of a lot of martial artistry without stunt doubles. As a confirmed sinophile, I can testify that Shu Qi is cute beyond words as the woefully underwritten love interest/MacGuffin. All in all, a decent action film, but nothing worth bothering unless you’re a Jason Statham fan… and you will be one, eventually.

  • Scary Movie 2 (2001)

    Scary Movie 2 (2001)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On DVD, October 2002) The first Scary Movie film was a genuinely amusing satire marred by gratuitous gross-out gags. This one is a poor attempt at a comedy marred by even more gratuitous gross-out gags. It’s not that you’re not grinning (to be fair, the sequences referring to The Exorcist, Mission: Impossible 2 and Charlie’s Angels are worth a discount rental alone if you’re a fan of the original films), it’s that you feel quite guilty for doing so. And whereas the prequel’s gross-out gags had some amusing value, the ones in here are simply mystifying: did someone truly believe, at any moment during the production, that these would be funny? Particularly annoying is Chris Elliot’s character, whose antics are simply perplexing. The rest of the cast is so-so, with Anna Faris doing her best to be as bland as possible and Tim Curry shamelessly collecting a pay-check. (James Woods, however, is as good as usual in his quasi-cameo.) Big fans of satiric comedies might enjoy (“Let’s fight Mad Cow style! Moo! Mutherf…”), but I’d recommend Shriek If You Know What I Did Last Friday The 13th… well before this one. The DVD contains some forty-odd minutes of deleted and alternate scenes, and it’s telling that they are roughly of the same quality than the rest of the film.

    (Second Viewing, On Cable TV, October 2021) Of all the Scary Movie entries in my pre-Halloween series marathon, Scary Movie 2 was the one I was least looking forward to—I recalled it as a dumb, unfunny, laborious watch. The film’s rushed production history explains a lot: Spurred by the surprise success of the first film, Miramax set up its sequel to be in theatres exactly one year after the debut of its predecessor. In other words, the entire thing has to be written, produced, shot and post-produced in a matter of months—a risky pace even for skilled professionals, and a downright hopeless one for a spoof comedy with extensive writing and post-production work. The result, though, is not as bad as I feared—tasteless and humourless in spots, sure, but with more effective jokes than I remembered as well. It certainly helps to go in with low aspirations and a few alarm signals: Whenever I saw Chris Elliot’s character walk on screen, for instance, I knew that the next moments would be unbearable. I still like the premise of the story, but, of course, I’m a gigantic fan of any “people spend the night in a haunted house” plot. Perhaps the best comic moments occur whenever the film stops with the gross-outs, remembers that there’s more to a spoof than re-creation, and goes for the unexpected. The film’s biggest chuckles (calling them laughs would go too far) take place when the characters get the best out of their supernatural aggressors. It somewhat compensates for the ludicrous amount of physical violence directed at Anna Faris throughout the film. She’s game for everything, but I still prefer Regina Hall’s comic timing. (Perhaps the most timeless pieces of comedy in the first two Scary Movies come from the Wayan Brothers going for acerbic racial commentary which, regrettably, hasn’t dated all that much.)  Still, trying to find nice things to say about better-than-remembered Scary Movie 2 is tough: It doesn’t waste James Woods, but it mishandles Tim Curry, suffers from some terribly unfunny sequences, doesn’t manage to get any charm out of substandard special effects, and constantly demonstrates how it was rushed from conception to delivery. The result is better than expected, but still rather dismal—Ironically, the film would be much better if it was shorter: Get rid of Elliot, most of David Cross’ character, much of the overlong joke-milking (especially when it’s not funny to begin with) and you’d end up with a relatively funnier film, albeit one that wouldn’t qualify for feature-length status. Still, that could be interesting. At least new next few Scary Movie entries in my marathon represent, if I recall correctly, a step up.

  • The Rules Of Attraction (2002)

    The Rules Of Attraction (2002)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In theaters, October 2002) There are many things that don’t work in this film, but maybe the most offensive of them all is that for all the drug abuse, sexual perversions, loud music and overall hedonism of the story, it’s just not much fun. Too few naked coeds, scant enjoyment of illicit substances and sucky music combine with annoying characters and a lame “message” to produce what may very well be one of the most boring films of the year. The fault doesn’t lie with the actors, who do their best (though Shannyn Sossamon’s role is her weakest to date), but with writer/director/yadda Roger Avary, who mishandles some very promising material. I’m not talking about the original novel, which is reportedly quite different and rather loathsome if I’m to believe my Spy Notes on the book. Even with radical structural changes and simplifications, this adaptation feels directionless, meaningless and, yes, worthless. There are a few cute camera tricks, but don’t get too excited yet, because they don’t do much to support the story, nor add to them. It’s like if a film student wanted to try a whole lot of new (not-so-cool) tricks without having an idea why he should do so. The film lacks spark, energy and simple coolness. Doug Liman’s 1999 film Go outshines this film on all levels, from the soundtrack to the understated perversion, from the nihilism to the filmmaking. Too few, too late, too lame (“Nobody can really now another person?” Is that the best you can do for a moral?), there’s no real reason to see The Rules Of Attraction. I don’t even predict a cult following.

  • The Ring (2002)

    The Ring (2002)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In theaters, October 2002) It had been a long, long time since we’d seen a true horror film in theatres, after years of winky “satires”, insipid serial killers and cold-hearted attempts at Special Effects scares. (The Haunting, anyone? Does anyone still remember that one?) It’s a bit of a bother that Americans had to remake a Japanese horror film in order to come up with something good, but look at it this way: It’s not only a creepy film, but it’s also a decent adaptation. How scary is that? Horror films should work both in-theatre and some time after you’ve seen it, and The Ring scores twice, first by causing chills and then by working on your mind. The result might depend on a lot of cheap tactics (jump cuts, quasi-subliminal frames, loud noises and nightmarish images) but oh, does it work…! (Do note, however, that one of the best chills of the entire film comes from a very simple dialogue scene… “She never sleeps”) Sitting close to the screen in a loud theatre for The Ring is a lot like being clobbered on the head by a 2×4 throughout the film. The film might lose its potency on a small-screen setup. Or it may not: The Ring mixes familiar technology with supernatural horror to produce not only evil VHS tapes, but something that works specifically on jaded horror junkies. Performance-wise, props go to Naomi Watts and to the kid, who manages to be all-knowing and pathetic-looking while still being interesting. Nobody expected Gore Verbinski (The Mexican… eh…) to deliver something like this. I don’t care if he ripped-off half the original film: his version works, and it works very well even if you can figure out the tricks he’s using. Horror fan rejoice, and enjoy!

  • Red Dragon (2002)

    Red Dragon (2002)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In theaters, October 2002) To be entirely truthful, I never thought Red Dragon was a project worth doing. Thomas Harris’ original novel Red Dragon had already been adapted to the screen by Michael Mann as Manhunter, so why re-visit? The attraction, naturally, was money, with the success of the two “sequels” with an entirely new cast. Fortunately, this remake/prequel doesn’t screw it up, either as an adaptation or as a thriller. It is remarkably faithful to the novel save a few updated details (for a video-camera age), more attention to superstar Hannibal and a (slightly) more upbeat ending. The star power exhibited here is impressive, but truth be told is that most of them only turn in workmanlike performances. (Particular bravos to Ed Norton and Emma Watson; particular ehs-of-indifference to Philip Seymour Hoffman and Harvey Keitel) The film is stylistically far more accessible than Manhunter, and will probably age much better than Mann’s work. The earlier film has a few stronger areas: some of the acting is more memorable -though maybe not better-, and the toll taken on Will Graham is much more visible in Manhunter. The winks to the “latter” The Silence Of The Lambs and Hannibal are obvious from the first scene on, and so help form a trilogy that may not be completely seamless, but should flow together fairly well. As a simple standalone thriller, Red Dragon is a slick piece of entertainment, not without tics and annoyances, but much better than average.

  • Iterations, Robert J. Sawyer

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    Quarry Press, 2002, 303 pages, C$35.00 hc, ISBN 1-55082-295-0

    Whenever possible, I try to preface reviews of authors I’ve met with a short but pointed disclaimer. In this case, the disclaimer might be more necessary than usual. I know Robert J. Sawyer, I’ve interviewed him, and I’ve met him at local conventions and SF bookstores. Chances are that he even remembers me, which sorts of ruins the whole author/reader chasm that’s one of the underlying assumptions of my reviews.

    Do understand that while I can recognize several annoying deficiencies in Sawyer’s work, I really do -generally- like what he writes. Despite the repeated themes and characters, mechanistic writing techniques and occasional cookie-cutter plotting, Sawyer strikes me as a professional’s professional, a career-minded writer who happens to understand and love the genre like few others. I could quibble endlessly about the repetitive and unoriginal nature of some of his books, but keep in mind that I’d do so even as I own most of his books in first edition, usually in hardcover.

    Buying Iterations, his first short story collection, was a must. But enjoying it, well, that was another matter. Some writers are best suited to short story lengths. Others thrive in the extra space allowed in a novel. Sawyer definitely falls in the second category, and Iterations demonstrates it.

    The principal problem is Sawyer’s quasi-mechanical approach to writing. In a novel, this works well given that the characters, ideas and overall narrative drive can sustain our attention even though the writing doesn’t. At the very least, one can say that the writing doesn’t interfere with our reading. But things don’t work like that in a short story, where the strings of mechanical writing are too obvious. While I wasn’t overly bothered by this, I’m usually tone-deaf to this kind of stylistic issues, and yet I noticed it in the course of the book.

    Okay, this being out of the way, on to the blow-by-blow account: The book begins with the strong “The Hand You’re Dealt”, a formulaic but interesting murder-mystery set against a libertarian background. Sawyer loves mysteries and you can feel the fun he’s having doing a hybrid story. Other standout stories in the volume include the title-story “Iteration” (despite a horrid “I Wish” plot device), the whimsical “Lost in the Mail”, “Just Like Old Times”, and the closing story “On The Shoulders of Giants”. I could “but…” most of these stories, but they’re the best the volume has to offer.

    There are more “eh?” stories whose point seems too lame to discuss. “The Peking Man” reads as the first chapter of a longer novel; all setup, no resolution. “The Blue Planet” is one of the most useless short stories I’ve ever read, even on a second read. It might have been best-written with an explicitly humorous story, but Sawyer’s track record as a writer of droll stories isn’t particularly better: “The Contest” will have you looking for a punchline, and that’s an impression shared by a few of the other stories in the volume, as readers collectively ask “Is that it?” There are quite a few duds here; not disasters, but stories that never build up to something interesting. “Where the Heart Is” strikes me as a perfect example of a short story about three times as long as it should be, a story driven mostly by the obvious authorial manipulation of a protagonist who should know better.

    Again, please remember that all of the above comments are coming from a tone-deaf Hard-SF fan who does actually like Sawyer’s fiction. I’m so certain that your mileage will vary that I actually hesitate to recommend the book to you even though I found it, overall, worth my while.

    Sawyer writes on page 156 that “since 1992, I haven’t written any short fiction without a specific commission; I just don’t seem to find the time for short work otherwise.” You may infer what you want from that statement, but I think that it illuminates the rest of the book.

  • Punch-Drunk Love (2002)

    Punch-Drunk Love (2002)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In theaters, October 2002) I really wanted to like this film, but the problem is that film doesn’t want to be liked. It reminded me (slightly) of The Shining, in which an intellectual director takes on a “popular” genre without having much respect or affection for the said genre. The result may be a brilliant deconstruction of romantic comedy clichés, but if you’re looking for a good time, you might as well go back to the usual popular stuff. It’s easy to be impressed by elements of this film, mind you: Adam Sandler’s character is a direct reference to his usual screen personae, a dysfunctional moron whose childlike rages here do not go unpunished. As an actor, it’s definitely a step up for him… but it doesn’t make him likeable. P.T.Anderson’s direction is sparse and relatively breezy, but it’s also deliberately sloppy and unpolished in an attempt to lend it some art-house credibility. A few moments are genuinely amusing (I’m thinking here of the “backlit kiss”, deliberately marred by what looks like a parade of visual distractions), but most of the film plays like nails on chalkboard, an impression heightened by the deliberately intrusive soundtrack that does an effective job at putting us in the mind of a loathsome protagonist. I wasn’t impressed by any of the “romantic” elements, which seem glossed over for no good reason at all; in his rush to deconstruct, Anderson has forgotten to construct. Once again, even though Punch-Drunk Love is at least an hour shorter than Magnolia, it still feels loose and self-indulgent. But then again, self-indulgence has been a hallmark of Anderson’s work since the very beginnings. What’s not present here, though, is a reason to like this film, not simply admire it.

  • Lung foo fung wan [City On Fire] (1987)

    Lung foo fung wan [City On Fire] (1987)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On DVD, October 2002) Yes, this is the film that inspired Quentin Tarantino’s Reservoir Dogs, a fact that will be obvious to viewers only five minutes before the end of the movie. Fans of Hong Kong action cinema might want to temper their expectations a bit before watching City On Fire, though: It’s far more of a straight-up criminal thriller than an out-and-out action film. As a film, it succeeds almost purely on the strength of lead Chow Yun-Fat’s charisma. While he plays a horny, cocky and slightly unlikeable character, Yun-Fat does it with such charm and coolness that it’s hard not to be attached. Otherwise, this is standard Hong Kong cops-and-criminals stuff, with the typically dark ending made even more poignant by our attachment to the protagonist.