Reviews

  • The Wizard of Gore (1970)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, February 2022) As someone who loathes gore movies, it makes no sense to watch something like The Wizard of Gore… except for historical interest, as the film often shows up as a minor reference in the history of splatter horror and remains one of writer-director Herschell Gordon Lewis’ better-known work. Like it or not (I don’t!), the increasingly gory nature of horror films throughout the 1970s owes a lot to Lewis’ taboo-breaking work throughout the 1960s. He was nowhere near mainstream moviemaking: his films are patched together using amateurish acting, threadbare production values and blunt narratives more concerned with shock than refinements. The Wizard of Gore is as low-budget as it’s possible to get. The gore effects are laughably, thankfully fake, taking the edge of a mean-spirited intent that seeks to gorily kill as many young women as possible. The stomach-churning nature of Lewis’ grand-guignol work, even half a century later, is made barely bearable by the stiff non-acting, visible cuts from human to puppet, and poor audiovisual quality. (I’d say that a modern, fully photorealistic equivalent to this would be unbearable, and the 2007 remake of the film partially proves me right, in that many of the more gruesome moments are deliberately obscured to make the film fit within an R rating.)  An incoherent, low-budget, exploitative production allows for some weird moments, though: you won’t be able to convince me that the deliriously weird final moments of the film are anything but patching up a production without the means to be conventionally good, but it’s still remarkably strange. I don’t like The Wizard of Gore, but I don’t hate it as much as I thought I would. On the other hand, I’m not volunteering to see any more of Lewis’ work for a long while.

  • Wrath of Man (2021)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Netflix Streaming, February 2022) The problem with most of the last decade-and-a-half of Jason Statham movies isn’t Jason Statham as much as the movies themselves: unambitious, formulaic, barely taking advantage of Statham’s undeniable charisma. In other words—it takes a strong writer-director to use him well, so hope ran high in seeing Statham pair up once again with Guy Richie. Sure, 2005’s Revolver was terrible—but Richie and Statham made each other’s reputation with the Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and Snatch double-bill two decades ago: could they do the same here? Well, keep your expectations in check. While Wrath of Man is significantly better than many of Statham’s recent solo efforts (I’m not counting the Fast and Furious series in this assessment—a good case of using him effectively), it’s noticeably not up to the standards of Richie’s better crime movies. Adapted from French film Le convoyeur that’s next on my to-watch list, the wild story has Statham taking a job at an armoured car company for mysterious purposes, then doing what he does best in a series of action sequences. While the dramatic conceit at the heart of the film is ingenious, it also feels far-fetched to the point of outrageousness: the kind of thing that only makes sense in action movies. Still, as an excuse for some cleverly-choreographed mayhem, it does work. Setting an armoured robbery film in modern Los Angeles gives flashbacks to a specific sub-genre of films (most notably Heat, unmissable and referenced) and the result is certainly watchable once you learn to ignore the contrivances that drive the mysteries of the film. Statham is solid, as usual, and this time he’s got the good luck of working with a director that knows how to showcase him. Richie’s dialogue is not as strong here as in his previous films, his pacing is somewhat slacker and the atmosphere is considerably grimmer, with few of the amusing lines to be found in his previous crime thrillers—not to mention a tragic backstory. Still, Wrath of Man feels like a step up for Statham and a wholly entertaining crime thriller in its own right. There are far worse picks out there when it comes to recent action thrillers.

  • Hotel Transylvania: Transformania (2022)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Amazon Streaming, February 2022) By the time a lead actor and director check out of an ongoing film series, you can expect a sharp drop in quality, and that’s exactly where we are with Transformania, the fourth film in the Hotel Transylvania series. Adam Sandler has been replaced as voice actor by an impersonator, writer/director Genndy Tartakovsky has ceded directing duties to others (while still doing some of the writing) and there’s a feeling that the film is another step in the slowly declining quality of the series (which, to be fair, has never flown particularly high). Unlike the first two films, there aren’t that many significant plot developments in Transformania. The monsterification of the human lead and humanification of the monster lead are not bad premises, but the film sidelines many of the previous instalments along the way. The kids are left home during the ensuing adventures, the new wife is merely a supporting character and most of the character growth experienced so far takes a back-step for plot reasons. Even a significant amount of destruction doesn’t really mean much by the end of the film—you barely get a minute’s worth of gloom before everything is reset. I’m still not a big fan of the ugly character designs, although the supporting characters still get a few chuckles along the way. While Transformania is not an intolerable follow-up, it does suggest that there’s no rescuing this series from gradual erosion. It should have ended already, so let’s not ask for a fifth instalment.

  • Masks (2011)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, February 2022) No one is asking, but the dividing line between slasher and giallo is more significant than we think. Even sticking to a limited definition that focuses on visual style is enough to draw a distinction: slashers tend to be functional, while giallo has something more ambitious on its mind. But that intention affects more than how things are shown: it also influences how scenes are built, the atmosphere of the film and the unreality of the result. No wonder, then, if I tend to tolerate giallo more readily than slashers, no matter the era—I still don’t like the graphic violence, but at least there’s an artistic drive to it that feels more impressive. German film Masks wears its giallo inspirations proudly, most notably in borrowing from Suspiria the idea of a mysterious artistic academy and having our protagonist feel stuck in the middle of a nightmare. The wrinkle here is that this is about acting rather than dancing, and that there’s a mysterious presence hanging over the unconventional techniques taught in this school. The usual number of gory murders follows, then the crazy finale to wrap things up. Those who don’t like horror movies won’t be convinced by writer-director Andreas Marschall’s entry—it’s still very much the same old murders, foreboding atmosphere and lack of thematic meaning beyond the deaths. On the other hand, if you’re willing to dissect the various subgenres of horror, Masks makes for a mildly effective neo-giallo. Not a triumph nor a crossover hit, but a competent entry in a slightly more demanding subgenre than a psycho with a knife.

  • Krush Groove (1985)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2022) Joining films such as Beat Street and Wild Style in chronicling the early days of hip-hop, Krush Groove takes us to early-1980s New York City to follow a music promoter (loosely inspired by Russell Simmons) trying to cope with increased attention. The featured acts here include Run-D.M.C., Beastie Boys, LL Cool J and The Fat Boys (among others), with plenty of incidental period details to make it more interesting. The film is executed in a relatively unobtrusive fashion, with acceptable early-1980s technical credentials and an unobtrusive directing style from Michael Schultz, who wisely leaves the spotlight on the performers. The plot is not bad, but the film’s reason for existing is found in the various musical numbers that pepper the film, energetically showing a burgeoning scene and its participants. Fans of 1980s hip-hop are sure to love Krush Groove—for everyone else, it’s a document capturing a unique era in pop-culture history.

  • Buck Privates (1941)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2022) Considering the flood of propaganda films that Hollywood churned out in the early 1940s, it’s almost a surprise to find out that the Abbott and Costello army comedy Buck Privates is technically a pre-war film: entirely produced and released months before the attack on Pearl Harbor that precipitated the United States’ entry into the war, it nonetheless could anticipate the direction things were going in Europe. (Indeed, there were two more military-themed Abbott and Costello movies before the end of 1941, covering the Navy and the Air Force.)  That’s for the geopolitical context—as for the comedy, well, you’ll be on familiar grounds if you’ve seen other movies from that pair: a mixture of verbal and physical comedy adapted from their years performing on the stage. It’s decently funny, and a way to see some of the classic routines captured on film. You also get to see the Andrew Sisters perform a few songs, which is a nice bonus. Otherwise, there’s not much more to say: if you like Abbott/Costello, then you know what to expect with Buck Privates.

  • Jupiter’s Darling (1955)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2022) The next time you witness a big-budget Hollywood film crash and burn on a mixture of hubris and bad ideas, remember that Hollywood’s history is littered with expensive what-were-they-thinking flops. Today’s timeless example is Jupiter’s Darling, a movie musical taking place… during Hannibal’s advance toward Rome. Featuring aqua-darling Esther Williams. With painted elephants. I’m not making any of this up. Clearly drunk on the historical epic craze of the mid-1950s and bereft of anyone asking if this was really a good idea, Jupiter’s Darling simply defies comprehension. At that point in her career, Williams was clearly not willing to dive in the pool as often… but audiences then and now still had expectations, and so the aquatic numbers in Jupiter’s Darling feel useless, padding a lengthy-feeling picture even longer. George Sanders has a small role, but his singing scenes were reportedly cut in editing. It’s not a good movie, but perhaps more damningly, it’s not a terribly memorable one either: it’s badly conceived, but executed with enough professionalism that it doesn’t become terrible. All in all, it’s more boring than anything else, and that’s perhaps the worst of it. Apparently conceived as a satire, Jupiter’s Darling doesn’t come across as such: it feels like a misfire. Who authorized such a thing? Well, the result is still there for contemplation decades later.

  • The Velvet Touch (1948)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2022) Aside from a leading performance from the ever-reliable Rosalind Russell, there really isn’t much to say about film noir The Velvet Touch. It does start on a promising note, as our heroine accidentally kills her producer, and the film then (through flashbacks) takes noir archetypes to the Broadway circuit. As usual for the genre, there is a very comforting quality in tackling murder and mayhem in the late-1940s context: it’s dark and suspenseful enough to be interesting, but you know that there are limits to how far the film will go. Executed as slickly as most of its contemporaries, it tries to go beyond the sordid crime story to tackle the neuroses of an actress pursuing dramatic fulfillment. The fusion of noir themes and Broadway backdrop works well in bringing together two of Hollywood’s most enjoyable subgenres, but The Velvet Touch can’t quite sustain the expectations created by its premise. The dialogue is triter, not quite as hard-boiled as it should be, and the conclusion can be inferred from the aforementioned limits of Classic Hollywood. Sydney Greenstreet does turn in one of his last performances here as a dogged policeman on the case, and he’s the one with the best lines as the film wraps up. Not terrible, not exceptional, The Velvet Touch may work better as comfort material for viewers wanting a bit of crime in their Broadway stories or a bit of Broadway in the noir films.

  • Thousands Cheer (1943)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2022) Hollywood propaganda musicals were a surprisingly robust subgenre in 1942–1945 and you can easily picture why: From a production standpoint, it meant that studios could get away with a threadbare story to focus on a string of guest appearances by musicians, comedians and other entertainers. From an exhibitor’s perspective, it meant solid revenue from people interested in a variety show featuring some of the era’s better-known names. From a propagandist’s point of view, it meant an uplifting film celebrating American values and promoting the war without being depressingly about the war. (Also: Buy your war bonds today!) For overseas soldiers, it meant an easy-to-watch film featuring songs, music and cute girls without the burden of complex plotting and unpleasant issues. For modern historians, well, it means that those films captured in high resolution and audio fidelity some timeless and ephemeral entertainers alike. Thousands Cheer is perhaps more interesting in that it’s not the best of such films. It’s certainly not timeless, and its selection of stars is not immortal. Perhaps more significantly, it’s a film where nearly everyone brought their B-game, maybe even their C-game: even known names aren’t quite as interesting as they are in other films, and the entire production has the feel of an afterthought, made to answer concerns far removed from artistic quality. But as I’ve mentioned a few times before, the best representation of an era is not found in the timeless classics as much as the more ordinary material unconsciously reflecting life as it was. There are two halves to Thousands Cheer—a romantic melodrama about two young people trying to achieve their dreams, and a show being put on for soldiers. While Kathryn Grayson and Gene Kelly (in a largely, but not entirely dramatic role) make for likable romantic leads, the second half of the film relegates them to supporting roles in order to feature the MGM stars on display during the show. Kelly’s presence here is not wasted, as he performs a well-known routine with a mop—but despite an amazing cast, the impact of the rest of the film remains muted. Eleanor Powell shows up to tap-dance (in colour!), Kay Kyser and crew have a bit of orchestral fun, Virginia O’Brien sings a typically oddball take, Lena Horne is typically solid, Red Skelton showboats, pianist-conductor José Iturbi makes his first of many film appearances and there’s some space for Judy Garland, Lucille Ball and Mikey Rooney to do their thing. Rooney’s shtick has not aged well at all with the aggressive catcalling, but remember what I said about ordinary films being better representatives of their times. Despite this amazing cast, Thousands Cheer remains stubbornly second-rate: It’s certainly enjoyable—especially if you already know who these people are—but the result feels like outtakes from better films of the time. Still, audiences have been happy with the result, and we twenty-first century viewers can revel in the film’s colour capture of some early-1940s legends.

  • Paris Blues (1961)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2022) Few filmographies are as rock-solid as Sidney Poitier’s work in the 1960s, and Paris Blues is certainly a great, if lesser-known, entry in the list. Like a few other Hollywood films of the time, it goes overseas to make a point about American racism—this time to Paris, where two expatriate best buddies (played by Poitier and Paul Newman) have fun playing jazz music… until two vacationing American women (Joanne Woodward and Diahann Carroll) lead to a reconsideration of their lifestyle. The richness of the film means that you can appreciate it in many ways. There’s the jazz angle, obviously, with Louis Armstrong even dropping by briefly for a cameo. There’s the romantic aspect of it, with an attractive cast of lead characters against the strong Parisian atmosphere—and some romantic conflict bubbling into wider societal considerations. There’s the matter-of-fact interracial friendship between Newman and Poitier’s characters—still a rarity in American cinema at the time. There’s the strong discussion of American racism, obviously, with two characters arguing about whether it’s best to live a happy life abroad in Paris’ relatively accepting environment, or go back home and become an activist despite the unpleasant consequences. While Caroll looks stunning here, Newman and Poitier competing with each other to see who’s cooler means that the clear winner is the audience. But even if you strip all of those qualities, Paris Blues still remains a story about two young men figuring out what they want out of life and measuring facility against achievements. I didn’t expect much from Paris Blues (and I maintain that its Parisian décor would have been much more effective with colour cinematography), but director Martin Ritt has an underappreciated success here: perhaps not as striking had the story retained the interracial romance angle of the original novel, but still a quietly effective piece of work that acts as a lead-in to the more engaging material that would follow later during that decade. I’m also noting a strong kinship between Paris Blues and the 1950s Italian dolce-vita Hollywood-on-the-Tiber subgenre, which may be enough of another incentive to watch the film. No matter why, it’s worth a look.

  • The Scarlet Letter (1926)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2022) As horrifying as it may sound to purists, the secret to enjoying silent dramas may be watching them in fast-forward. There’s a noticeable change in pacing that goes with the passage from the silent to the sound era, and having the text IN YOUR FACE as title cards rather than subtitles makes the fast-forward strategy quite viable even on less optimal viewing platforms. This is not necessarily recommended for comedies depending on physical humour, but dramas? Silent-era dramas are deathly dull—the pacing is off, the emoting is difficult to take seriously and the title cards barely summarize the action (in addition of further ruining the pace on their own). But slam The Scarlet Letter in fast-forward and the result becomes much more interesting, with a density of plotting that starts approaching sound-era standards. A classic of American literature, The Scarlet Letter has been made and remade many times, but this silent-era version has a few things going for it. Lilian Gish stars as a woman whose romantic indiscretion with the priest of her small New England community leads to further complications. There’s enough narrative substance to make it interesting once the story gets going, and it helps that the production values of the film were good enough. Director Victor Seastrom credibly re-creates a settlers-era small town, and some of the exterior shots are much, much better than we’d expect from films of that era—early in the film, there’s a rather amazing long tracking shot of two lovers walking along an outdoor path that seems far more modern than it is. In the end, I was not exactly bowled over by The Scarlet Letter—but thanks to the fast-forwarding, I didn’t waste as much of my time as I anticipated, and finally could be swept up in the increasingly dramatic nature of the plot as it went along.

  • 13 Sins (2014)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, February 2022) While 13 Sins is not, strictly speaking, that bad of a movie, it has the bad luck of being squarely in a subgenre that I don’t like, which is the “ordinary people coerced into corruption via game.”  A lot of those have come out recently—you can pick off an entire list just by searching plot summaries for “dark web,” as many hand-wave “sadistic game shows for amoral billionaires… through the dark web!” as their plot justification. 13 Sins is slightly more subtle (and is adapted from an earlier Thai film), has some dark humour to it and actually manages a few fun plot twists along the way… but it remains a film about someone coerced into becoming a terrible person and I think that’s a cheap way to get thrills. “Kill this person or your family gets it” is about as exploitative as the genre gets, and there’s little narrative satisfaction from that. 13 Sins writer-director Daniel Stamm does understand that, at least, you have to go beyond that and so the film hits its best moments when it takes a step back into comedy (albeit dark, dark comedy), or multiplies its twisted plotting to unbelievable melodramatic heights. Mark Webber is not bad as an initially meek young man who becomes empowered by the amorality of the tasks he’s forced to complete (an interesting wrinkle in itself), with Ron Perlman lending a lot of gravitas to an otherwise minor role, and Rutina Wesley being a welcome island of wholesomeness in the middle of a darkly amoral film. There’s some polish to 13 Sins’ visual style, even if the writing is uneven both in tone and content. I didn’t particularly enjoy it, but I have to recognize that it’s slightly better than most comparable films.

  • Fiesta (1947)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2022) I haven’t seriously started digging into that filmography, but Classic Hollywood often looked south of the nearest border for inspiration, and there’s a not-inconsiderable corpus of films embracing Mexican culture even in the 1930s–1950s. Not many of them are particularly good or well-remembered, though. Fiesta feels like a lot of them: More exotic than the usual Hollywood films of the time, but still curiously dull despite an impressive cast and some melodramatic flourishes. Hailed as Richard Montalban’s Hollywood debut (and indeed, you can use much of Montalban’s early filmography as a first cut at the whole Hollywood-does-Mexico subgenre), it also features Esther Williams and (in a very minor role) Cyd Charisse cast as Mexican women. (While admittedly weird for Williams, the dark-haired Charisse had a substantial number of roles in which she was cast as being of non-white ethnicity.)  The story itself is a toreador melodrama in which Williams passes herself off as her brother in order to fight bulls in the arena, while said brother finds artistic achievement as a music composer. It sounds wilder summarized like that than it does in the film, where the slower pacing and colourful asides almost help viewers overlook the insanity of the plotting. Fiesta itself is okay—not particularly engaging despite the atmosphere, but with just enough interest to prevent viewers from drifting away. A young pre-stardom Charisse is striking in her few short scenes, while young Montalban is a delight and Williams gets away from the water-based roles that characterized much of her filmography. But Fiesta doesn’t measure up to its own wild production history as summarized on Wikipedia, with on-location shooting leading to the death of two crewmembers by cholera, bullfighting sequences leading to four stuntmen being injured badly enough to require hospitalization, fighting between the crew and the locals, as well as considerable controversy about the local toreador hired (or rather: not-hired) for the film and the bulls being killed (or rather initially not-killed) at the end of it. Never mind remaking Fiesta—I’d want a movie about the making of Fiesta.

  • Fanatic aka Die! Die! My Darling! (1965)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, February 2022) It’s a good thing that the TV channel I was watching decided to go with the lurid American title Die! Die! My Darling! rather than the staider original British title of Fanatic. For one thing, it drew me in. For another, it represents better the lunacy at the heart of this low-budget thriller. The story gets going once a young American woman travels to England in the lead-up to her wedding with her British beau. There’s a problem, though: In visiting her future mother-in-law, she grows increasingly concerned about the older woman’s craziness, and is prevented from leaving as the matriarch blames her for her other son’s death. Much of the film consists in having our plucky heroine attempt to escape captivity, or watching Classic Hollywood actress Tallulah Bankhead in her final film performance as she tries to chew as much scenery as possible as an unhinged biddy. (You can certainly include this film on the filmography of horror movies made by slumming screen legends.)  This being a Hammer film, it’s not meant to be taken all that seriously—it’s not a comedy, but the drama and suspense are both cranked up to extremes and the result is, well, far closer to Die! Die! My Darling! than anything as simple as Fanatic.

  • Magic (1978)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2022) I certainly did not have “seeing Anthony Hopkins as a mad ventriloquist” on my list of things to do when I woke up this morning. But that’s the wonderful thing about exploring cinema history, especially as you leave the classics behind and start poking at lesser-known work. Not that Magic is obscure, exactly: Directed by Richard Attenborough, featuring no less than Anthony Hopkins and Ann-Margret, and written by William Goldman from his own novel, it wasn’t meant as cheap exploitation—although the horror/psychological thriller angle certainly doesn’t make it an awards-seeking film. After a rather long period of throat-clearing, the story really begins once our protagonist, a ventriloquist with some severe mental health issues (Hopkins), flees impending TV fame to seek refuge in his hometown, where he picks things up with a long-time crush (Ann-Margret, quite good even when subdued) and lets his dummy do the talking… and the killing. Literalizing the metaphor by having the dummy kill anyone who displeases the hero, Magic steadily becomes darker and darker, poking at the notion of a dummy’s personality taking over that of the ventriloquist and the only option left for the ventriloquist’s escape. It’s not great material (and it’s clearly not meant to be supernatural even when the dummy is doing the sarcastic stabbing) and it often feels too long at even 107 minutes but there are a few good moments here and there, especially as the film wallows in the characteristic gritty darkness of the 1970s cinematic palette. It does leave an impression, though, because let’s face: Hopkins conversing with a killer dummy is strange enough to be memorable. Magic may not be that different from any other killer-dummy movies, but it does have casting on its side.