Cyd Charisse

The Silencers (1966)

The Silencers (1966)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, October 2019) No doubt about it: The Silencers is a trip through time. First in the Matt Helm series of films made to lampoon the Bond series and featuring no less than Dean Martin, it’s like an authentic 1960s version of what Austin Powers was going for. Not as farcical, but certainly playing up the most ridiculous elements of the Bond formula: the women, the gadgets, the women, the lavish lifestyle, the women, the ridiculous villains and, of course, the women. (“NOT FOR CHILDREN,” shouts the poster after stating, “Girls, Gags and Gadgets: The Best Spy Thriller of Nineteen Sexty-Sex.”  But don’t worry—it’s tame by today’s standards.)  Rat-packer Martin is near-perfect as the suave womanizing agent Helm, whose conquests multiply throughout the movie. The women all look great, although classic Hollywood fans will be overjoyed to see the great Cyd Charisse strut her stuff in two dance sequences—her legs still go up to there, and she looks fantastic with longer hair. Don’t pay any attention to the plot, though: It’s all familiar plot devices meant to string the gags in the correct order, including a car fully equipped with a driver-accessible minibar and switch-activated privacy drapes for, well, whatever spies do in this kind of movie. Alas, the villain is pointlessly stereotyped along Fu-Manchu lines. Still, The Silencers is a big broad caricature, fully capturing a kind of spoof that would later be re-imitated. I watched it on a whim, attracted by the casting of Charisse, but ended up liking it quite a bit.

Silk Stockings (1957)

Silk Stockings (1957)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, March 2019) Sadly, I’m counting down the last few Freed-unit MGM musicals on my list—I can see why they were hailed as the best in the business, and there aren’t that many left for me to watch. I would expect a downward quality trend in getting to the less famous movies, but Silk Stockings is a strong entry in the musical corpus. It’s a decent musical adaptation of 1939’s Ninotchka, with Cyd Charisse stepping into the Garbo role in a movie at the measure of her legs—her solo number “Satin and Silk” is both funny and sexy, within a role that takes advantage of both her dancing abilities as well as her ice-queen acting range. The film has Fred Astaire as a movie executive trying to put together a project in Paris, which requires convincing Russian artists to work for the capitalistic west. Charisse plays a humourless Soviet operative gradually seduced by the leading man and Paris’s considerable attractions. The West-versus-East element of the original 1939 film plays far better in the middle of the Cold War, and this mid-1950s film also captures other obsessions of the era—most notably the decade’s obsession in distinguishing movies from TV through colour cinematography, widescreen framing and “Stereophonic Sound.” (It’s, by far, my favourite number of the film despite a dodgy cadence.)  Another highlight is “Red Blues,” as the gentle poking at Soviet rigidity finally makes its way over the Iron Curtain. There’s plenty to like in the acting, as long as you accept Astaire once again being in Paris with a much younger partner (as in the same year’s Funny Face)—if it helps stomach the 22-year age difference between them, keep in mind that few actresses, no matter their age, could keep up with Astaire’s dancing. This being said, Astaire is up to his usual very high standards (he keeps the best for last with an iconic final “The Ritz Roll and Rock”), but Charisse has the tougher role as the rigid accented Nina, slowly transforming over the course of the film. Their duet is quite good as well, perhaps echoing their comfort together after working on The Band Wagon four years earlier. Peter Lorre also has a funny small role. While Hollywood history is rife with disastrous musical remakes of earlier works, this certainly isn’t the case with Silk Stockings. Much like the quasi-contemporary High Society, it takes a good film and delivers something equally good in a slightly different way. It’s one of the essential musicals of the 1950s.

The Band Wagon (1953)

The Band Wagon (1953)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, February 2019) As a seasoned cinephile with thousands of reviews filed on this very web site, I’m far too jaded to start saying things such as “an instant personal favourite!” … but The Band Wagon is something different. Sometimes billed as “everyone’s second-favourite movie musical after Singin’ in the Rain,” it lives up to the hype: filled with striking numbers, bolstered by a cast headlined by Fred Astaire and Cyd Charisse, directed by Vincente Minnelli and produced by Arthur Freed, this is as good and as fun as musicals ever got. Astaire anchors the film in a role that smirks at his own personal situation at the time—coming out of retirement to play an entertainer looking for a comeback picture. Opposite him is Charisse, and romantic dance duets don’t get any better than their “Dancing in the Dark” with two of the greatest-of-all-time dancers playing together. But that’s a rare serious/romantic moment in an otherwise comedy-filled picture. “That’s Entertainment” is a pure earworm classic with plenty of sight gags, while “Triplets” is a darkly funny number that will surprise a few and “Shine on Your Shoes” gets Astaire dancing up a solo storm. Still, my favourite number has to be “Girl Hunt Ballet” which mixes two of my favourite movie genres—musicals and film noir—into an incredible, consciously over-the-top result. The theatrical setting of the story (in which a Broadway troupe rallies together to rescue a failing show) allows for plenty of show-business in-jokes and commentary, in keeping with the best musicals of the time. I’m not so happy at the 23-year age difference between Astaire and Charisse, but which fifty-something actor/dancer could hope to keep up with a talent as singular as Astaire? It’s a small blemish on an otherwise incredibly compelling picture—I’ve already watched The Band Wagon twice before writing this review, and—indeed—I’m placing it right under Singin’ in the Rain as one of my favourite musicals.

That’s Entertainment! III (1994)

That’s Entertainment! III (1994)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, March 2019) Third instalment in the now-classic anthology series, That’s Entertainment! III is farther away from its 1950ish source material than its predecessors and consequently much less reverential. It innovates by featuring behind-the-scenes footage, cut numbers (some of them better than those that replaced them), a focus on lesser-known stars (such as my favourites Ann Miller and Cyd Charisse—who looks amazing in her sixties as she presents a segment of the film) and some attention to non-white performers (with Lena Horne even acknowledging that Hollywood wasn’t ready for them). Under this new focus, there are plenty of things to wow about: Eleanor Powell’s dancing remains as astonishing at the techniques used to film it, a wonderful ditty sung by Horne in a bathtub, and a split-screen comparison of a Fred Astaire routine performed several weeks apart shows the amazing control that he had over his performances. On the other hand, I’m not a big fan of the stupidly racist Judy Garland bit “I’m an Indian Too,” which should have stayed buried in the vaults. As with the other films of the series, That’s Entertainment! III can be revisited at several stages in a classic movie cinephile’s evolution: As an introduction to some terrific movies and performers, as an exploration of a few familiar favourites, or as delightful complements to one’s existing knowledge of the era. No matter how you choose to see it, it’s a great anthology movie, and it’s well-worth watching alongside the others.