Henry Fonda

  • Sometimes a Great Notion (1971)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, October 2022) Sometimes a great scene sneaks into an otherwise humdrum movie, and you won’t find many better cases of this than Sometimes a Great Notion. This rough-and-tough drama about a union-busting logging family is a generally middle-of-the-road affair for most of its running time. Paul Newman (who also directs) and Henry Fonda occasionally raise the level of the production through their charm, along with credible cinematography to portray the reality of circa-1970 logging in the Pacific Northwest. (I was reminded of Howard Hawks’s Come and Get it.)  Adapted from a novel by Ken Kesey, the story is often episodic—the lives and loves of a tight-knit family up against the work. I still can’t square how Newman and Fonda, both of them known for left-leaning politics, would go along with anti-union protagonists, but never mind—the showcase sequence in the film is a nightmarish drawn-out death sequence that is engineered to make you believe that it will end well in extremis, but merely prolongs the agony of a character stuck in a horrifyingly deadly predicament. The scene doesn’t quite fit with the rest of the film, but it’s easily the one reason (along with another earlier sequence showing the lumberjacks at work) that the film is worth a watch… if you can handle the intensity of the material. Otherwise, the film often finds refuge in facile “rugged heroes against incompetent enemies” shtick, with the film’s last moments being a crude and macabre illustration of that credo. Classic Hollywood fans will appreciate two late-career turns for Fonda and Lee Remick, even if the rest of the film is pure audience-alienating New Hollywood. I’m not that impressed by Sometimes a Great Notion, but it’s not often that I watch a scene and go” Yeah, this is going to stick in mind longer than I’d want.”

  • Firecreek (1968)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, October 2022) The appeal of Firecreek is that it brings together two of Classic Hollywood’s best-known leading men—two lifelong friends, actually—into a story leading to a fatal confrontation. James Stewart isn’t too far away from his 1950s western heydays here, playing the “sheriff” of a small dead-end town made of rejects, oddballs and cast-offs. He, too, would like nothing more than to be left alone. Alas, outlaws ride in town and start making trouble. They’re led by Henry Fonda and while Fonda’s character may be a tad more respectable than his hoodlums, he’s still creating chaos in a small town, and must be stopped. In a reprise of High Noon, Stewart seems to be the only one willing to do what it takes to stop the outlaws, as everyone else cowers inside. As a blueprint for a dramatic Western, this isn’t too bad—it’s stealing from the best, and somewhat reflective of the growing disillusionment of its era. Seeing Stewart facing off against Fonda is a show by itself, even if Stewart chooses weary lassitude over his more typical aw-shucks mannerisms and if Fonda isn’t quite at ease playing the villain. (He would do much better as a villain in Once a Time in the West.)  This being said, Firecreek is too long at 104 minutes—the opening act drags, and there’s a sense that the final confrontation could have been made more meaningful. Still, as far as westerns go, this one is accessible enough: there’s a clash between civilization and anarchy brewing here, and the clean-cut colour cinematography gives a sense of place. While Firecreek won’t turn up in many best-westerns lists (especially considering how, at the time, the western was going for much rougher and violent material), it’s a competent, somewhat well-handled effort that doesn’t waste its leads even in taking too long to get to the point.

  • Young Mr. Lincoln (1939)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2022) As a Canadian, the American deification of Abraham Lincoln often leaves me nonplussed. Sure, I get the highlights—iconic appearance, wrestling champion, freed the slaves, fought the Civil War, and was assassinated at the theatre. But it’s films like Young Mr. Lincoln, that plays as a prequel in the ever-expanding Lincoln Cinematic Universe, that have me asking bigger questions than usual. Here, Henry Fonda (impossible to see as anything but Henry Fonda) plays the future president in his young hungry lawyer days as he establishes his practice in small-town Illinois. The film, based on a true story, nonetheless plays as a Matlock episode with the lawyer going for a dramatic courtroom deduction. I may sound flippant, but I actually liked the film, and more than I thought I would. Young Fonda remains a compelling presence, especially when playing smart capable characters. The entire film is directed by John Ford, who could reliably turn some solid entertainment at that stage of his career. And the screenplay (nominated for an Academy Award) is filled with solid bits of business meant to humanize its intimidating lead, with Fonda doing the rest of the aw-shucks persona. I’m told the film takes large liberties with the facts of Lincoln’s life and I can understand why—the result, at least, is quite compelling. Even if you don’t like other Ford films, or can’t quite grasp the holiness of Lincoln. [December 2025: Having done more research into Lincoln, and measured him against other presidents, I get it now.]

  • The Mad Miss Manton (1938)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2022) There’s a wonderfully entertaining quality to The Mad Miss Manton that cannot be solely explained by seeing Barbara Stanwick and Henry Fonda in their first co-starring appearance—although it helps. No, the sheer scene-by-scene interest of the film has more to do with its ridiculously likable atmosphere, with 1930s Manhattan socialites running around solving murders and falling in love as if there wasn’t anything more important going around. (One day, I’ll try to figure out why I’m a wealth-redistribution advocate who nonetheless loves Classic Hollywood depictions of the idle rich, but not today.) There’s nothing funnier here than seeing Stanwyck’s queen-bee character running around with seven (!) socialite butterflies following her as a Greek chorus of commentary—and often taking on Fonda’s journalistic protagonist as the target of their patter. But murders are the plot justification of this film, and it’s great fun seeing the leads aggravate each other as Fonda appeases a police corps exasperated at the women’s meddling in their investigation. (Both Stanwyck and Fonda end up slapping each other at some point.)  Some good dialogue helps flesh out a typically-short film (at 80 minutes, it’s even a bit long for 1930 amateur sleuth comedies), leading to a result that can be enjoyed every day of the week. Future Oscar-winner Hattie McDaniel also shows up for some voice-of-reason housekeeping duties. Sure, you can see Stanwyck/Fonda pairing in The Mad Miss Manton as a dress rehearsal for the superior The Lady Eve three years later—but it’s perfectly enjoyable on its own terms as well.

  • In Harm’s Way (1965)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2022) I thought I had seen most of the big WW2 epics by now, especially those revolving around Pearl Harbor, but In Harm’s Way had somehow slipped past me. There’s no denying its pedigree: Directed by Otto Preminger, featuring no less than Kirk Douglas, John Wayne, Henry Fonda and a few other familiar names in smaller roles, it’s clearly made with a good budget and long enough (at 165 minutes) to qualify as an epic, even if the black-and-white cinematography in 1965 makes it one of the last big monochrome films. The tone of the film also feels like one of the last of an era—while it’s considerably more even-handed, realistic and occasionally cynical about military politics than the propaganda films of WW2 or the war-is-an-adventure films of the immediate post-war era, it’s still part of the noble-war zeitgeist that existed between 1954 and 1970. Wayne remains one of my least favourite superstars of the classic Hollywood era, but he’s almost tolerable here—less histrionic than usual (a consequence of serious health issues during the film’s production), in a role that’s not quite so reverential. Preminger does well in orchestrating a big story with a sweeping scale—the battle sequences are fine for a film of its era. (Amusingly enough, though, the stylistic focus of the film is 1940s events with 1960s fashions, creating an almost-parallel reality atmosphere.) Where In Harm’s Way falters, however, is when it’s measured against other films: It particularly goes wanting against the much-superior Tora! Tora! Tora!, made barely five years later. But there’s a sense that Preminger was pushing as hard against the grain as he could in a pre-Vietnam era, and in this light In Harm’s Way is perhaps more interesting both as a demonstration of what a seasoned director could do, but especially as a transitional film in-between the soldier-friendly films of 1945–1965, and the far harsher war films of the post-Vietnam era.

  • Tentacoli [Tentacles] (1977)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, July 2022) There were a lot of Jaws-inspired creature-feature films in the late 1970s, but few seem as blatantly calculated as Tentacles, what with its shenanigans revolving around a seaside resort town threatened by the appearance of a sea monster. The other strain of 1970s cinema to be found is the “horror movies at the end of a Classic Hollywood star’s filmography” cliché, with none other than John Huston, Shelley Winters and Henry Fonda all showing up in various roles. It’s not true to insist on this being the end of their careers—all three had a few more good years and significant roles after that—but it puts Tentacles alongside other 1970s horror or disaster films that also provided roles for elderly name actors. Otherwise, there isn’t all that much to say about the film. It does have that stilted quality of Italian films shooting in the United States with American actors—dialogue that feels off, a slap-dash approach to cinematography and directing that suggests a rushed production, and an inappropriate soundtrack. In between the obviousness of the inspiration, the big-name stars wondering what they’re doing there and the unpolished aspects of the result, Tentacles isn’t particularly good despite a sudden burst of energy by the third act. It’s what it says in the title: if you want a movie about tentacles, this is it. Otherwise, keep swimming.

  • The Cheyenne Social Club (1970)

    The Cheyenne Social Club (1970)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, December 2021) I have no doubt that the filmmakers behind The Cheyenne Social Club did exactly what they intended in casting James Stewart as a cowboy who inherits a brothel. Even at a time when New Hollywood was breaking all of the rules, Stewart’s aw-shucks appeal meant that this wasn’t a film that was out to offend sensibilities. At best, it uses the suggestion of naughtiness as a lure, but doesn’t do anything that could be misconstrued as offensive. (The closest it gets to actual naughtiness is in its repeated suggestions that the house of ill repute is actually a boon for the town… and clearly not of ill repute.)  Stewart plays a laconic cowboy thrust in a situation he doesn’t want — it’s a rather familiar role, and the demands of the comedy don’t stretch his range too much either. Where the film does get more interesting is in pairing him with his good friend Henry Fonda in front of the camera, with none other than Gene Kelly as a director. The plot is thin to the point of aimlessness, an impression that is not helped by a rather disappointing conclusion that fails to show growth for the protagonist. Except that maybe that’s the point — such a fundamentally conservative film (despite Kelly’s often-bawdy instincts) could not end in any other way, and that’s probably the biggest joke in the entire story. Still, even with its flaws and lack of audacity, The Cheyenne Social Club remains a smooth film to watch — more light-hearted than many of Stewart’s previous westerns, and with some cleavage on display. I don’t think it fully uses the elements at its disposal, but that’s the case for most movies anyway. The paying public probably wouldn’t have stood for anything too daring.

  • There Was a Crooked Man… (1970)

    There Was a Crooked Man… (1970)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2021) I’m far from being the world’s biggest movie western fan — it’s a genre that easily falls into repetition and cheap dumb machismo. But hearing that There Was a Crooked Man was a creation of witty urbane dialogue-heavy director Joseph L. Mankiewicz definitely had me interested, an interest that only grew once Kirk Douglas and Henry Fonda (and Hume Cronyn) showed up in leading roles. The plot is a blend of hidden treasure thriller, prison procedural and ensemble drama all wrapped up in lighthearted direction except when people start dying. Douglas is particularly interesting as a bespectacled ruthless thief, and him going up against Fonda is a good screen pairing. Still, while There Was a Crooked Man has its moments of interest, the overall impression isn’t quite as strong as its pedigree or elements would suggest — it fades away more easily than you’d think, and doesn’t do enough to distinguish itself from so many other westerns. Too bad — I can see, here and there, how a better western could have been put together with those elements. Douglas and Fonda remain worth a look, though.

  • Stage Struck (1958)

    Stage Struck (1958)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, May 2021) It took me about ten minutes too long to figure out that Stage Struck was a remake of the 1933 Katharine Hepburn vehicle Morning Glory, but that’s the least of the film’s problems. No, the problem with the film is one you rarely expect — an overacting, over-articulating, falsely cheerful, badly cast (or directed) lead actress: Susan Strasberg. I get that the film is the story of an overeager girl from the sticks heading to the big city and finding out that reality doesn’t measure up to her dreams. In that context, it makes perfect sense for the character to be exuberant, annoyingly upbeat and pretentiously mannered… at least at first. Similarly, you don’t need to point out that Hepburn was doing even more overacting back in 1933: that was the acting style at the time, and she made it work for herself. The problem with Strasberg is that she stays at eleven out of ten on the theatricality scale during the entire film, well after reality should have brought her down to earth. What a wasted opportunity, and an inexplicable lack of directorial judgment from Sidney Lumet, who would go on to direct several much-lauded films. It’s all the more regrettable, given how the rest of the film (filmed in colour on location) offers a rather wonderful look at Broadway circa 1958 in its grittiness and vitality. Henry Fonda is on hand as an older producer who, inevitably, falls in love with the half-as-young woman; other notables include Christopher Plummer as a writer (his first film) and Joan Greenwood as an acting rival. Stage Struck itself would be fine if it wasn’t for the way Strasberg uses highly stylized theatrical acting in an otherwise normal film — she stands out in a bad way and actively harms the rest of the film.

  • The Best Man (1964)

    The Best Man (1964)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2021) I’m an avowed good audience for any movie that takes a peek and a poke at the American political process—especially now, in the dark days of January 2021, where American democracy is under attack from within with plenty of bad faith, outright lying and self-serving cowardice against authoritarianism to go around. The Best Man takes us back to the not-so-innocent 1960s, at that quasi-mythical event so beloved of pundits: a contested primary where every vote is on the line to decide who’s going to represent a major political party to the presidency. Henry Fonda makes the best use of his innate likability as an intellectual candidate with plenty of hidden baggage—not as much the multiple affairs, but a mental health episode that would be damaging if revealed to the public, as his chief rival, a venal opportunist, intends to do to secure the nomination. (This anticipates what happened to Vice-Presidential nominee Thomas Eagleton in 1972, dropped from the Democratic ticket to disastrous effect after his own history of mental health issues became known—which, in retrospect, became something of a karmic retribution for Eagleton’s then-anonymous quip denouncing the nominee’s “amnesty, abortion, and legalization” agenda. But I digress.)  A film of pure backroom deals and untoward pressure put on delegates, The Best Man is a political junkie’s dream. It ends up tackling some interesting issues for the time and Gore Vidal’s script pulls few punches considering the constraints under which studio films operated at the time. (It’s known as the first major American film to use the world “homosexual.”)  William Schaffner’s direction is taut (watch that twirling camera later on!), the black-and-white cinematography is appropriate, and the atmosphere of a political convention is cleverly re-created through good mise en scene and stock footage. While politics have changed, and one of those changes is the likely disappearance of contested conventions, some other aspects of the film remain curiously contemporary. I defy anyone to hear one of the final lines of dialogue, “you have no sense of responsibility toward anybody or anything. And that is a tragedy in a man, and it is a disaster in a president,” and not be reminded of a recent disastrous president with no sense of responsibility toward anything or anything.

  • Yours, Mine and Ours (1968)

    Yours, Mine and Ours (1968)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, July 2020) It may be based (somewhat) on a true story, but the premise of Yours, Mine and Ours is comic gold: A widower with ten kids meets a widow with eight of her own and, well, chaos ensues. Henry Fonda plays the patriarch, Lucille Ball (aging, but still funny) the matriarch, and an ensemble cast’s worth of 18 kids fills out the rest. The film feels as if it has two halves—a more sedate beginning in which the adults get together, and then a higher comedic pace once the family moves together and modern logistics have to be used to wrestle control over a household of 20. While clearly a mainstream 1960s comedy with the expected exaggerations, minor conflicts and gags, it does have a fair amount of character development and heartfelt emotion toward the end. Yours, Mine and Ours is clearly not a great or refined film, but it does hit its comic targets. While there’s a 2005 remake that may be slicker and more attuned with modern values, this one now has a definitive historic charm to it.

  • The Wrong Man (1956)

    The Wrong Man (1956)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2020) It’s paradoxical yet inevitable that while “the wrong man at the wrong place” ends up being a perfectly valid plot description for much of director Alfred Hitchcock’s oeuvre, The Wrong Man finds a true story that perfectly fits this description and somehow manages to produce something less involving than pure fiction. A dramatized depiction of real-life events, this is a movie that stars Henry Fonda as an innocent man accused of robbery through bad luck and happenstance. Given its status as a true story (as ponderously announced on camera by Hitchcock himself in the film’s first moments), it’s no surprise if The Wrong Man goes for more of a more realistic atmosphere than many of Hitchcock’s contemporary works. It doesn’t quite feel like one of his movies—the black humour is toned down, the stylistic camera tricks are mostly absent and the return to black-and-white here feels like an accidental rehearsal for Psycho than anything else. The inclusion of a mental health breakdown (toned down from true events) is also a bit of a downer that carries through the end credits. Still, one thing that The Wrong Man does get right is the casting of likable everyman Henry Fonda in the lead, equally able as other heroes in Hitchcock’s filmography. It still works today, but more like an attempt at true-crime realism than a Hitchcockian thriller by itself. But then again, reality is usually duller than fiction.

  • The Lady Eve (1941)

    The Lady Eve (1941)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2020) I’m slowly starting to understand what film enthusiasts mean when they point at writer-director Preston Sturges’ extraordinary 1938–1944 run. The Lady Eve remains a spectacular film by any standards, and yet it’s only one of the four Sturges movies from the period often mentioned as an all-time comedy classic. In some ways, the premise feels familiar: the grafter taking aim at a wealthy target for purely monetary objectives, only to fall in love along the way. But there are twists and turns here that complement a well-executed delivery. It certainly helps that Henry Fonda is very likable as a hapless romantic lead, a bookish scientist who falls for Barbara Stanwyck’s scheming seducer. If Stanwyck has been sexier or funnier in any other movie, please tell me, because this is a classic performance—her opening sequence, as she provides colour commentary on seduction attempts on her target, says it all. The duo has a pair of very funny seduction sequences—first an unbroken shot of Henry with his head on her lap, and then later on a barn conversation interrupted by a curious horse. The film’s conventional first half leads to an unexpected turn midway through, and then even more comic sequences later on. Deftly mixing top-notch dialogue (you can quote that movie all day long) with physical comedy and absurd situations, The Lady Eve is indeed a screwball comedy classic, and a very good showcase for Fonda, Stanwyck and Sturges. This is what we mean when we say that they don’t make them like this anymore.

  • Sex and the Single Girl (1964)

    Sex and the Single Girl (1964)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2020) The sex comedy subgenre of the early-to-mid-1960s has not aged well at all, and yet it remains curiously irresistible. I could watch several of those films one after the other—the only thing stopping me is that I would run out of them too quickly. So it is that Sex and the Single Girl has both a prime-era Tony Curtis and a spectacular stockings-clad Natalie Wood battling it out romantically against the dual backgrounds of psychiatry and Manhattan magazine publishing. (I strongly suspect that this was one of the main sources of inspiration for 2003’s pastiche Down with Love.) Having Henry Fonda and a gorgeous Lauren Bacall in supporting roles really doesn’t hurt either, even if their roles are underwritten. While the film itself does miss several comic opportunities and could have been more sharply written, there’s a lot of fun to be had simply plunging into the film’s atmosphere, rediscovering relics from another time (gags from coin-operated devices?) and enjoying the naughty-but-not-vulgar style of that era’s guiltless sex comedies. Pure wholesome fun is the special glue holding these films together despite their specific weaknesses. Wood’s Audrey-Hepburnesque qualities are in full display here, and Curtis is at his most Curtisesque all the way to a reference to Some Like it Hot. While the film could have been written more carefully, there’s a deliberate approach to its idiot-plot structure, with misunderstandings and misdirection between characters growing bigger and wilder every minute, climaxing with a consciously self-aware highway climax that’s a pack-and-a-half of logistics to juggle. By the time the characters are all chomping down on pretzels, it’s all non-stop joy that ends remarkably well. I could certainly go for another film much like Sex and the Single Girl right now. A shame they’re not making them like this any more, even with the disappointing writing.

  • My Darling Clementine (1946)

    My Darling Clementine (1946)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, November 2019) I’m aware that My Darling Clementine is often praised as a western classic (it even gets a rare “1”—Masterpiece—rating from the influential Mediafilm service), and I’m partially nonplussed by the acclaim. I’m not going to make an argument that it’s a bad movie: with Henry Fonda playing Wyatt Earp in an early take on the O.K. Corral shootout, it’s a John Ford production executed with all of the skill that a big-budget western could muster in the 1940s. Even by Hollywood standards, it’s a very fanciful retelling of history that invents or combines (or kills) historical figures, rearranges the chronology of events and certainly imbues them with virtues or failings that makes the entire thing more accessible as a story. Actually, it goes even further than that: Watching My Darling Clementine, there’s a palpable desire to create a piece of American mythology. A desire fully fulfilled, in that the O.K. Corral shootout has been told and retold in movies even decades later. That, too, plays against My Darling Clementine: To modern viewers weaned on Tombstone, this early take feels unfocused, ham-fisted, and clichéd, bested by its own inheritors. Even at a relatively spry 103 minutes, it feels long, especially as it offers tangential material such as Shakespeare in the Wild West, and strange narrative choices such as building up a surgery sequence and then telling us in the next scene that the sick character (perhaps the most striking of them) has died. These little issues accumulate to the point that My Darling Clementine ends up feeling like a decent but underwhelming western, far from being all all-time classic even in Ford’s filmography, especially when there’s Stagecoach or The Searchers or The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence to pick from.   But now I’m reviewing the reviews rather than the film itself.