Atom Egoyan

  • The Captive (2014)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, September 2022) If you’re aware of the demarcation between mainstream and genre fiction, you’re probably just as aware of what happens when specialists in one try to venture in the other. The Captive, in many ways, seems to be a cautionary tale about what happens when ambitious drama auteurs try to move in genre territory without quite understanding what makes those genres tick, and perhaps even carrying some innate disdain for what they perceive to be a lesser form of fiction. Atom Egoyan needs little introduction—he’s one of the most celebrated English-Canadian filmmakers, renowned for finely detailed character studies and hard-hitting dramas. In The Captive, however, he seems to conjure up a feverish nightmare of barely digested exploitation genre material, and attempts to square it with his own more ambitious preferences for plain-label drama. The focus is on a couple still desperately searching for their kidnapped daughter, years after her disappearance. Set in wintry Niagara, Ontario (the falls only visible in the background of a few scenes set in high-rise hotel rooms), the film features Ryan Reynolds in a far more dramatic register than usual, and such notables as Rosario Dawson, Scott Speedman, Bruce Greenwood and Mireille Enos. Alas, none of them can’t make the script any better, and this is where writer-director Egoyan loses his way: In a rush to wallow in exploitative elements, such as a child pornography ring for rich people, gratuitous tormenting of the grieving parents, a naughty relationship between two cops investigating the case, and the on-line luring of young victims by an older woman, it becomes obvious that he doesn’t have what it takes to make a genre film. The Captive is resolutely slow, glum and void of suspense—a car chase near the end of the film is handled without energy or visual continuity, showing just hollow are Egoyan’s attempts to ape genre films. And that’s a lesson worth learning by itself: Genre fiction is not lesser fiction, it’s different fiction, and The Captive shows just how badly filmmakers used to mainstream success can screw it up if they’re not willing to accept that they need to adapt to the requirements of genre fiction rather than try their woefully unsuitable usual technique with material that exceeds their grasp.

  • Ararat (2002)

    Ararat (2002)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, November 2021) As I’ll never get tired of pointing out, everything I’ve ever heard about the Armenian genocide has been because of Turkish militants’ attempts to pretend it didn’t happen. From the Serdar Argic Usenet spam of the mid-1990s to modern attempts to silence filmmakers tackling the topic, it’s not an exaggeration to say that I got interested in the issues because some people tried really hard to pretend it wasn’t an issue. The Promise thus begat a documentary about its shooting, and one that interviewed Canadian filmmaker Atom Egoyan about his troubles with Ararat — including a meticulous campaign to discredit his work accompanied by a book-sized dossier on his film’s failings. As a good Canadian cinephile, of course I had heard of Ararat — but not being much of a fan, I hadn’t sought it out. That changed after the documentary, and that’s how I ended up learning even more about the Armenian genocide. In a way, it’s good that I saw Ararat after The Promise, as the two logically flow into each other: The Promise is a historical re-creation, while Ararat plays with the making of a film much like The Promise, as it affects circa-2002 characters. It’s scattered and filled with subplots (many of them metatextual), but there’s a sense that Egoyan, himself of Armenian descent, is not trying to convince viewers as much as he’s taking the genocide as a fact and musing on its reverberations. (At least one 2002 review goes about it the other way and complains that the genocide is not given enough attention.) A good and eclectic ensemble cast includes Charles Aznavour, Christopher Plummer, Eric Bogosian, Bruce Greenwood and the lovely Arsinee Khanjian (Egoyan’s wife, in a Genie-winning performance). I found Ararat scattered but interesting, and an interesting addition to the Armenian genocide filmography in that it presents a world in which the recognition has happened, but not the reckoning. (Canada formally recognized the genocide in 2006, while the United States recognized it in 2021.)

  • Intent to Destroy (2017)

    Intent to Destroy (2017)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, April 2021) As I’ve written before, everything I know about the Armenian genocide comes from Turkish interests trying to deny it, from Serdar Argic in the mid-1990s Usenet to the hubbub surrounding Ararat and The Promise to the latest efforts of the Turkish government to criticize the possibility of recognition from the American government. Intent to Destroy, from veteran documentary filmmaker Joe Berlinger, chronicles the shooting of The Promise and uses this as a springboard to discuss the Armenian genocide, and the increasingly desperate attempts from the Turkish government to deny that it happened. As a documentary, it really ties everything together, from a succinct description of the events, their magnitude and their legacy, to the reasons why the Turkish government has been so invested in denying it. The link between the Armenian Genocide and the Holocaust is stronger than you may think, and the film spends a few valuable minutes explaining how the Armenian genocide actually led to the definition of the legal notion of genocide. (Much of the Turkish justifications boil down to a legalistic argument that “yes, many Armenians were killed, but it wasn’t technically genocide,” which is a hilariously stupid justification.)  Canadian director Atom Egoyan is interviewed, and proudly displays an entire book put together by the Turkish government to criticize Egoyan’s entire career in anticipation of Ararat’s release. One of the film’s most eloquent anecdotes comes late during the film, as a former American official describes the diplomatic fireworks when he recognized the Armenian genocide at an event, in contradiction to the American foreign policy meant to appease Turkey. That last segment means to conclude the film with the militant stance that the American government needs to recognize the Armenian genocide, and what do you know — on the day I write this review, shortly after seeing Intent to Destroy, here is Joe Biden formally recognizing the Armenian Genocide, marking a significant evolution of US policy. It took until 2004 for Canada to recognize the Armenian Genocide, but at least we did—and as Canada has its own genocidal history to consider, I’d like to reassure Turkish readers that ignoring your own history is not a demonstration of moral superiority—as often said, recognition is the first step toward justice.