Ava Gardner

  • Bhowani Junction (1956)

    Bhowani Junction (1956)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2021) Considering that classic Hollywood’s legacy in grappling with colonialism is so uniformly terrible, I’m tempted to be lenient with any film that even nods toward being aware of the issues even if they end up upholding it. Bhowani Junction is based on a novel in which a dark-skinned English woman living in an India on the cusp of independence finds herself attracted to three men of different ethnic backgrounds — an ideal opportunity to study the relationship between colonizers and colonized. But 1956 was still awfully close to 1947’s independence, and the historical perspective wasn’t there yet. While the novel sees the mixed-race heroine marry a man of similar ethnic origins, the movie features Ava Gardner (dark-haired, but definitely not dark-skinned) and pairs her off with the pure-English military officer. So, there goes Hollywood. Nonetheless, Bhowani Junction does show early signs of being conversant with tough issues, and should be partially excused in still going farther than most other films of the time. (As a side note, I notice with some amusement the “three suitors” universal plot device combining romantic and thematic concerns, also used in films as diverse as Great Britain’s Far from the Madding Crowd and French Canada’s Maria Chapdelaine.)  Alas, the execution of the film is more harmful than its misguided conclusions—while the plot summary of the film feels exciting and something that could be re-used as a framework for a much more modern film, the limp execution is deadened by typical 1950s studio characteristics—staid camerawork, unconvincing stage work, mannered acting in a very affected style, and garish colours. Few of these are issues for most Hollywood productions of the time, but in tacking topics like those in Bhowani Junction, which demands outdoors shooting and more realistic filmmaking techniques, the limits of the artifice become far too obvious too often. As a result, it feels like a clunker today — thematically and cinematically, even if the plotting and Gardner’s performance have their appeal. Some things age well and others don’t.

  • Mogambo (1953)

    Mogambo (1953)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, April 2021) It’s hard not to think about Howard Hawks’ 1962 Hatari in seeing Mogambo. The comparisons are more than superficial: Both are American films from legendary directors (here, John Ford) starring aged screen legends (here, Clark Gable) as strong men living on the African savannah and falling in love with a passing American. Both make the most out of their on-location shooting, both presenting a very familiar safari-based portrayal of Africa. There were other famous African-set studio pictures in the early 1950s (The African Queen, The Snow of Killimajaro and King Solomon’s Mines come to mind) but it’s the later Hatari that comes closest to it. In a role almost custom-made for an actor of his stature, Gable plays the great white hunter, with the amazing backing of a captivating Ava Gardner, and a star-making turn from a young Grace Kelly. It’s almost pointless to say that the film does feel quite racist today, as white protagonists have free rein over the savannah for a gorilla hunt (!)… but there you go. Not quite as technically polished as Hatari, Mogambo nonetheless benefits greatly from its location shooting, interaction with animals and Ford’s eye for capturing widescreen landscapes. The film is not that good, but it’s easy enough to watch in between the love triangle (wobbly but effective) and the nice location footage. Plus, I don’t recall another film in which Gardner shares the screen with a baby elephant and (later) a big cat.

  • The Night of the Iguana (1964)

    The Night of the Iguana (1964)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, April 2021) I wasn’t expecting much from The Night of the Iguana (what a dull title!)—but from the opening moments, in which a priest (Richard Burton) completely loses it in front of his congregation, the film gets more and more interesting. Once past the prologue, we find ourselves in Puerto Vallarta, alongside the disgraced priest now acting as a tour guide for a busload of tourists. The film kicks in high gear once our protagonist mechanically strands the bus near a small hotel run by an old acquaintance — and the tourists aren’t happy despite his manic explanation that this is simply the best vacation spot around. But the real reason to watch the film is obvious as soon as we enter the hotel — Ava Gardner looking her best with barely restrained curly black hair, a pleasant roundness to her face and some interesting wrinkles. But her appearance is nothing compared to the strength of her character—a reluctant tough-love saviour, perpetually amused by the protagonist’s mounting problems and capable of taking care of herself all the way to a beach frolic with two young men. When her character encounters the protagonist, sparks fly and do justice to the script based on the Tennessee Williams play. It’s combustible mixture, and I found myself increasingly invested in the film as it went on, as the complications pile up for our poor protagonist, as his face crumbles, as Gardner’s acting becomes better and better, and as the finale ekes out a bit of hope for everyone (well, except for that Miss Fellowes because she doesn’t deserve any). It’s a surprising film — most film historians have extensive notes about its shooting and how intricate psychosexual dramas played out between much of the cast and director John Huston. But what shows up on screen is really good, and it’s the film (more than The Barefoot Contessa) that really cements Gardner’s appeal for me. I still think that The Night of the Iguana is a bit of a weird title for the kind of supercharged theatrical drama that the film is, but go past the title: it starts out strong and keeps getting better.

  • Show Boat (1951)

    Show Boat (1951)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2021) It’s not unfair to criticize a film for shortcomings external to the film itself. If you accept that a good chunk of criticism is assessing if a film meets its own objectives, it becomes fair game to explore the production history for the film to explain on-screen issues — and assess whether the filmmakers were on an impossible mission. On a surface level, Show Boat feels a lot like the pinnacle of the MGM musical circa 1950. The original Broadway show is reportedly a landmark in American musical history, being the first to combine serious dramatic themes in a musical form until then used for more comic pursuits. The big-budget production re-creates the Mississippi on the MGM backlot, along with a show boat that has little basis in reality. The visual sheen of the production is immensely colourful, with dozens of extras milling through the musical sequences as the film re-creates the lifestyle of a travelling troupe of actors making their way up and down the river. So far so good — I really enjoyed Show Boat when it focused on those elements, and would have given high marks to the film had it stuck to that. But there’s a lot more on Show Boat’s mind than what I’ve described so far — in addition to doomed romance between mismatched partners, it makes quite a bit of a subplot featuring a half-black character passing as white, and the impossibility of any interracial relationship at the time the film is set. Unfortunately, Show Boat self-destructs on that subplot: The half-black character is played by the very white (and not-a-singer) Ava Gardner, and a peek at the production history of the film reveals that no less than the divine Lena Horne was considered then rejected for the role, reportedly because her very blackness went against the Hays Code’s ban on interracial relationship on-screen. This is infuriating enough, but it’s even worse considering that the re-creation of the musical in Till the Clouds Roll By did include Lena Horne in that role. It doesn’t help that much of Show Boat, as presented here, is a bit dull — the comedy of the film quickly disappears, and the more dramatic material seems kneecapped by the film’s own production constraints. The only sequence that I completely enjoyed is the acknowledged highlight of the film — William Warfield’s fantastic take on “Ol’ Man River” — an anthology piece if the film has one. I find it telling that while Show Boat was meant to be MGM’s big musical of 1951 and was initially a solid box-office success, contemporary audiences only have eyes for that other mildly successful MGM musical of 1951: Singin’ in the Rain.

  • East Side, West Side (1949)

    East Side, West Side (1949)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, October 2020) There’s a glorious, fascinating messiness to East Side, West Side that shows how the Hays Code era wasn’t necessarily an impediment for some heavy-duty melodrama. The film begins with a seemingly-happily married couple. But this façade soon comes tumbling down when, first, an ex-flame of the husband comes to town and then an ex-crush of the wife comes to town. That would be enough to power a film by itself, but the script peppers complications throughout, throwing in performers such as Cyd Charisse in a minor role that serves no real big purpose, then hinges an entire third act on the murder of one of the four main players, leading to a detective subplot that suddenly involves another main character. (It also leads to a fairly long and now-shocking sequence in which the male detective gets into a slaps-and-punches struggle with a female killer.) There are characters and sudden shifts of tone here that add a lot of texture, at the expense of what we would consider a polished script. It’s messy but a lot of fun, although you’ll have to work harder than usual to keep up with the twists and turns. An all-star cast sweetens the deal. James Mason is quite good in his own distinctive fashion as the protagonist cad, while Barbara Stanwyck is equally compelling as his increasingly estranged wife. Ava Gardner is the temptress that exposes the fault lines in their marriage, while Van Heflin rounds up the main cast with a character that increasingly reveals how resourceful he truly is over the course of the film. Top dialogue keeps things rolling, while the cinematography gives a noirish edge to New York City. Director Mervyn Leroy has enough experience to keep all the moving pieces together, and the result is a strong drama that will keep you invested from beginning to end despite its lack of clear focus.

    (Second Viewing, On Cable TV, June 2021) The interesting thing about revisiting East Side West Side, even after a few months, is its all-star cast. In-between James Mason, Barbara Stanwyck, Eva Gardner and Van Heflin (with none other than Cyd Charisse being fifth-billed in a remarkably small role), it’s very much a collection of some of my favourite actors in the business at the time. But here’s the thing: It took me an embarrassingly long time to become a fan of Stanwyck and Gardner – While Mason is distinctive and easy to like, and a previous viewing of East Side West Side made me an instant fan of Van Heflin largely thanks to his remarkable character, it took me years to like Stanwyck given her lack of adherence to a rigid persona. Meanwhile, it took me until Night of the Lizard to finally see what others saw in Ava Gardner. But now that I’m on-board for all of them, East Side West Side takes on a different quality. Oh, the film more than stands on its own as a 1950s Manhattan melodrama – With the plot revolving around an ill-fitting couple contemplating affairs with past flames, it’s rife with dramatic situations, including woman-to-woman verbal combat and a superb mother-in-law-to-no-good-husband put-down. Mason is (as often) surprisingly good as a bad husband, while Heflin gets to play a character than, in most other movies, would be the protagonist: an immensely capable special forces operative with an uncanny ability to solve problems. One of the film’s highlights remains the physical altercation he gets with a murder suspect while they’re both sitting in a car – the fact that it’s a male/female fight is surprisingly shocking, perhaps even more so given that he’s clearly in the right in subduing a killer. The slapping, pulling and grabbing goes on for a surprisingly long time, and the close quarters of the car’s front seats mean that there’s nowhere to go. It’s not necessary to like the entire film (including a slow start and adequate finale) when it has those highlights and those stars. East Side West Side is well worth a revisit, especially if you get to appreciate the actors in other films in between those viewings.

  • Ava Gardner, la gitane d’Hollywood: les années espagnoles de la Comtesse aux Pieds Nus [Ava Gardner: The Gypsy of Hollywood] (2018)

    Ava Gardner, la gitane d’Hollywood: les années espagnoles de la Comtesse aux Pieds Nus [Ava Gardner: The Gypsy of Hollywood] (2018)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2018) Made-in-France TV documentary Ava Gardner, la gitane d’Hollywood: les années espagnoles de la Comtesse aux Pieds Nus has both a breathless title and a somewhat tight focus on Gardner’s years in Spain during Franco’s dictatorial regime. While there’s clearly some affection for Gardner here (expressed either through interviewees who met her over there, or star-struck commentators), she does get excoriated for her indifference to the authoritarian regime that welcomed her, and her lack of awareness for the role she played in realpolitik between the United States and the Spanish government at the time. A secondary axis of focus for the film is in describing how Gardner was possessed of a beauty that outstripped her ability to deal with it. Coming from modest rural origins, she was celebrated as a world-class beauty but it was a life-long struggle for Gardner to come to grip with what it meant and not being exploited for it. A third area of interest consists in her tumultuous marriage with Frank Sinatra, although there’s a lot left out of that segment. The rest of Gardner’s life and career gets perfunctory but disappointing mention—her apprenticeship in the studio system prior to The Killers, her stardom years, her twilight decades before her 1990 death in London all get comparatively short thrift here compared to the Spanish years. It’s not uninteresting (especially as an occasion to learn more about Gardner), but the film ends up being unsatisfying: It’s focused on too narrow a period in her life when there’s an incredibly rich career barely mentioned. I suspect that much of Ava Gardner, la gitane d’Hollywood’s shortcomings come from its origins as a time-limited TV documentary and ready access to Europe-based sources more familiar with Gardner’s Spanish years—but there’s a lot of material left untouched if anyone else wants to make a better Gardner biopic.

  • The Killers (1946)

    The Killers (1946)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, October 2019) There’s a lot to love in The Killers for fans of classic noir, whether it’s the unusual structure, archetypical characters, glum script, or good dialogue. Burt Lancaster makes his film debut here, and Ava Gardner ignited her career thanks to her performance. It’s all very twisty with a man consenting to his own murder and the film flashing back to what could possibly explain such an event. The opening moments of the film (directly adapted from a Hemingway story) are immediately absorbing, with manly pursuit such as boxing and robbery being touched upon on the way to the end. In many ways, The Killers is pure noir to a fault—if you’re a fan of the genre as I am, you won’t need anything more to appreciate the film, while those who don’t care for noir (is that possible?) won’t see anything here to make them change their minds.

  • The Barefoot Contessa (1954)

    The Barefoot Contessa (1954)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) If I had to boil down a review of The Barefoot Contessa to two words, they would be Bogart/Gardner, with Mankiewicz as the third word. Not much else is needed considering that the point of the film is to see Humphrey Bogart as a movie director witnessing the rise and fall of a Spanish dancer (Ava Gardner) groomed to become a movie star. Written and directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz, the film is a Hollywood tragedy with strong ties to the European aristocracy, and much of the film’s second-half drama comes from entanglements with an Italian count. Savvily taking viewers from Hollywood familiarity to the escapist melodrama of the old-world, The Barefoot Contessa was part of the “Hollywood on the Tiber” movement which saw studio movies shot in Rome. The Technicolor production values are impressive, and they all serve to reinforce the film’s old-school glamour: in some ways, you can see the film as being very near the apex of the studio system and the style in which old-school Hollywood built itself. It is melancholic, however: the ending is a downer (in keeping with a film that flashes back from a funeral) and Bogart’s character has far less to do than you’d think from his top billing: he is a witness to events outside his control, a chronicler of someone else’s story. (There’s an interesting double-bill to be made here with In a Lonely Place as a glum Bogart-as-filmmaker mini-festival.) Off-kilter touches like that are why I keep going back to Mankiewicz movies—they clearly understood the way that Hollywood worked and used that to create an element of surprise or freshness. But let’s not fool ourselves: The Barefoot Contessa is Ava Gardner’s movie. The title of the film has become closely associated with her (she herself liked to go barefoot), and it still ranks high as a showcase for her specific brand of glamour.

  • Seven Days in May (1964)

    Seven Days in May (1964)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, May 2018) In between Seven Days in May, Dr. Strangelove and Fail-Safe, 1964 was a big, big year for black-and-white techno-thrillers in Hollywood. Dr. Strangelove distinguished itself through black comedy and Fail-Safe made few compromises in showing a nightmare scenario, leaving Seven Days in May as the more average film, although this is a relative term when discussing a film in which the United States government discovers an impending military coup and tries to defuse it before it’s too late. The black-and-white cinematography highlights the non-nonsense atmosphere that the film is going for, trying to make the unthinkable at least plausible. There is something admirable to the way the film builds not to an explosive guns-and-explosion confrontation, but to a quiet climax in which the would-be traitors are sent scurrying, and the country avoids a dramatic confrontation that would have had terrible consequences. The film works hard at instilling a basic credibility to its plotting, even with some then-near-future technological touches such as video screens. The tension is there, and being able to rely on capable actors such as Kirk Douglas, Fredric March (at the close of a long career), Ava Gardner or Burt Lancaster. Director John Frankenheimer made his reputation on thriller much like Seven Days in May, and is still effective today. Compared to its two other 1964 techno-thrillers, the film has aged very well—it may be hard to imagine nuclear war today, but overthrowing a president is still within the realm of possibility…