Curtis Hanson

  • Too Big to Fail (2011)

    Too Big to Fail (2011)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) I have a great deal of admiration for films like Too Big to Fail, which attempts to tell the abstract story of a financial system on the brink of collapse and somehow manages to make it interesting, gripping and human. Fictionalizing the events of the 2008 financial crisis, it’s a film that features a dizzying ensemble cast of known actors playing bite-sized parts, showing up for mere moments in order to deliver some pieces of exposition. The script is admirable in how it boils down complex ideas and esoteric notions into short punchy scenes, making the final result fit in substantially less than two hours. Director Curtis Hanson somehow keeps it all intelligible, even as characters come in and out of frame, with helpful subtitles to tell us who they are playing. William Hurt plays the film’s designated hero, Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson, as a man inheriting a problem of historical proportions, and trying to find unthinkable ways to save the system from blowing up. It’s all surprisingly witty, tense and even admirable in how various schemes are put together in an attempt to control a system that few understand. The flip-side of the film, of course, is that it makes heroes out of situations where there was a lot of blame to go around — unlike The Big Short, it’s not really interested in assigning blame, working itself up in righteous anger or examining the opportunity cost of a situation where “the system” was saved but no one important was punished. (Meanwhile, homeowners and lower-level employees…)  It’s a film that’s partly about capitalism back-patting itself for how it has captured the regulatory and legislative process: there’s probably a really smart and venomous progressive critique of Too Big to Fail out there that I haven’t yet read, and it’s just as valid a take. Until then, I can’t help but be half-amazed at how much stuff the film manages to fit in 98 minutes, whether it’s featuring the character of Nancy Pelosi, portraying ultra-high-level conversations, having a glimpse at how international policy is made, brainstorming with the bright kids providing assistance or the personal toll that crises take on even Very Serious People. It’s all playing on a very different registry than most films, and perhaps for that alone Too Big to Fail is a truly fascinating piece of work.

  • The River Wild (1994)

    The River Wild (1994)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, July 2020) As much as I’m as surprised as anyone else to see the Grande Dame of drama movies Meryl Streep have a go at an action movie in The River Wild, I can’t help but imagine her sneaking into her home theatre late at night and spinning this one. “Look at those toned shoulders,” she must be thinking, “Look at that fierce expression, that scowl, those squinting eyes. That’s right—I can kick ass as well as any other actress.” And then she puts it away, satisfied that she managed one action movie at her physical prime, just to show everyone else that she could. The River Wild is not that good a movie—it’s equally predictable and far-fetched, concerned as it is with a family being pursued down a fast-running river by a pair of robbers eager to escape justice and leave no witnesses behind them. Streep plays the mama bear of the family, experienced in white-water rafting and ready to lead the way during their family vacation. There’s some perfunctory business about her husband (David Strathairn, similarly managing a transition from a refined screen persona to an action hero) being distant and her initially flirting with the escape criminals. It does help that those criminals are played with prime-era Kevin Bacon and an early role for John C. Reilly as a none-too-bright sidekick. Still, much of The River Wild’s impact comes from the terrific white-water rafting sequences, still impressive twenty-five years later due to in-your-face camera shots and tight editing thanks to then-ascendant director Curtis Hanson. There are a few white-knuckle thrills along the way, and a gripping back-and-forth between family and criminals. It’s a decent-enough thriller, made all the more remarkable through some clever casting.

  • The Hand that Rocks the Cradle (1992)

    The Hand that Rocks the Cradle (1992)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, June 2019) I’m old enough to remember the chatter around The Hand that Rocks the Cradle back in 1992, combined with a mini-spate in home-infiltration thrillers along with Single White Female, and Sliver the following year. Decades later, the effectiveness of the film remains even as it’s easier to see how it blatantly manipulates audiences. The first few minutes of the film, for instance, have everything accompanied by ominous music to underscore that we’re watching a thriller and things are about to get really, really bad. Then the coincidences and vengeful plans and underhanded tactics multiply as our lead couple welcomes into their homes a young woman with very personal reasons to do them harm. Everyone’s upper-middle-class nightmares come true as she worms her way into the family, pits everyone against each other, isolates them from their friends and, in the final act, goes after them with a shovel and murderous intentions. It’s schematic, predictable, blunt and over-the-top and yet, even now, it’s still unnerving and infuriating at once. Rebecca de Mornay is terrifying as the psychopathic antagonist, easily outshining Anabella Sciora for the entire film. Julianne Moore pops up briefly, as does John de Lancie. Director Curtis Hanson doesn’t miss a trick from the thriller genre, which does get slightly annoying in the ending stretch of the film as it becomes a more standard psycho-inside-the-house sequence. The female empowerment message in The Hand that Rocks the Cradle (because, of course, it’s got to end with the young wife protagonist taking on the psycho killer—largely useless husband need not apply) is somewhat similar to the spate of home corruption thrillers of the early 1940s (Gaslight, Suspicion, etc.)—the woman is the mistress in her own house, and intruders have no idea who they are messing with.

  • In Her Shoes (2005)

    In Her Shoes (2005)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, November 2015)  One of the advantages of going back in time and catching moderately-popular movies from a decade ago is that they can help fills a few gaps along the way.  If I had seen In Her Shoes back in 2005, then Cameron Diaz’s similar turn in 2011’s Bad Teacher may not have been so surprising.  It also helps answer the question “What has Curtis Hanson done since L.A. Confidential?” and “Does Toni Colette look better with or without glasses?” (Answer: “With”, but then again I’m always answering that.)  Otherwise, the most noteworthy thing about In Her Shoes is getting further proof that a romantic melodrama adapted from a book often feels far less formulaic than similar original screenplays.  There’s an added depth and complexity to the story that comes straight from the novel, along with a number of literary devices that for some reason seem more common in adapted screenplays.  (Reading a synopsis of the novel does help in finding out that the screenplay isn’t above some compression and simplification, but that’s how these things go.)  Balancing heartfelt sentiment about long-lost family relationship with sibling rivalry and more straightforward romantic subplots, In Her Shoes doesn’t seem like much, but it lands its emotional beat honestly, takes an expansive left turn past its first act and features a few good performances by Diaz, Colette and acting-her-age Shirley MacLaine.  Hanson’s direction gets the point across effectively, and if the film does feel a bit too long at times, it definitely ends well enough.

  • The Silent Partner (1978)

    The Silent Partner (1978)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In theaters, June 2008) Both good enough to be entertaining and bad enough to be amusing, this drama benefits from a good script by Curtis Hanson (who would later achieve notoriety with L.A. Confidential), capable actors, and a very Torontonian setting to overcome thirty years of bad editing, ridiculous replies and stiff direction. This low-budget film has definitely aged, but more in individual moments rather than overall story: The plot (about a bank clerk who matches wits with a robber) still works wonderfully well today, as the protagonist (Elliott Gould) proves both resourceful and sympathetic in a cornered-sad-dog fashion. A slick-faced scenery-chewing Christopher Plummer plays the devilishly evil antagonist, while John Candy makes an appearance as another bank employee. People familiar with Toronto will get plenty of small thrills as the film is largely set in the Eaton center, features shots of City Hall and the CN Tower, and even has its characters talking while driving a convertible down the Gardiner Expressway. The film isn’t so successful in its shot construction, reflecting the stiff pre-digital low-budget conventions. But once that’s past (and once given the indulgence to laugh over some unexpectedly terrible moments), The Silent Partner remains an effective little crime drama, with unexpected twists, a better-than-average duel between protagonist and antagonist, and a uniquely Canadian flavor.