Henry Fonda

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.

Mister Roberts (1955)

Mister Roberts (1955)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, July 2019) There’s a very odd quality to Mister Roberts that makes itself known early on, as this “war movie” remains behind the front lines, spending its time with the crew of a supply ship that never gets close to the front. The forced comedy of the first few scenes feels amazingly close to the anarchic spirit of 1970’s MASH at times, with sailor goofing off in between their war effort, characters intentionally shirking their duties (most notably Jack Lemmon) and the title character (Henry Fonda) trying to shield his crew from an irascible captain (James Cagney). The main cast is intriguing, but the rhythm of the film feels forced, making jokes that remain unfunny and multiplying the episodes that don’t amount to much. The material is there for an examination of men at-war-but-not-at-war, but Mister Roberts, perhaps shackled by source material (it was first a novel and then a Broadway play), seems split between rambling dialogues, incongruous voiceovers and mildly annoying characters. It does feel like a film out of time, more at ease in the anti-war movies of the 1970s than the still-triumphant mood of 1950s WW2 films. (I’m actually amazed that the film got the full cooperation of the US Navy for location shooting.)  Mister Roberts’ plot does get better as the film advances, but it leads to a tragic conclusion that feels at odds with the rest of the film.

On Golden Pond (1981)

On Golden Pond (1981)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(Popcornflix streaming, July 2019) I probably expected a bit too much out of On Golden Pond-the-movie as compared to On Golden Pond-the-career-highlight. For cinephiles with extensive knowledge of film history, every movie operates on at least two levels—the basic surface level of what we see and experience on-screen, and the way the film slots into the history of its genre, actors, and filmmakers. On that second level, On Golden Pond is essential: It’s one of Katharine Hepburn’s last great performances in a role that cleverly builds upon her own lifelong evolving persona; it’s Henry Fonda’s sole Oscar-winning performance; it’s an illustrated peek into the relationship between father and daughter Henry and Jane Fonda’s relationship; and it’s a major Oscar-winning movie. How could you not want to see a film with that kind of pedigree? I was there as soon as “Hepburn” was shown on-screen. But then there is the film, in which an old couple gets to care for their daughter’s new step-son during a summer at the cottage. Given that On Golden Pond is a theatrical adaptation, you can bet that the film is an actor’s dream with fully realized characters, strong dialogue, an undeniable thematic depth (with death and father/daughter relationships jockeying for importance) and a structure that allows for a lot to happen in a confined space and time. And yet, and yet, I think I was expecting just a bit too much. For all of Fonda’s fantastically cantankerous performance, witty bon mots and deathly obsession, I expected a grand finale for him—but the film is a bit too nice to get to the end of that thematic obsession. Hepburn is great, the Fondas are very good but the film does seem a bit too good-natured to truly get to the bottom of its themes. I’m as surprised as anyone to feel this way—I’m usually the first person to argue in favour of happy endings even when they’re not deserved. But it strikes me that this story had the potential to wring a lot more drama out of what it started with, and that it blinked in favour of far more superficial results. I’ll allow for the possibility that I’ve misunderstood the result or wasn’t quite in the right frame of mind for it. But it seems to me that the legend of On Golden Pond has outstripped its actual viewing experience.

Fort Apache (1948)

Fort Apache (1948)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, March 2019) To modern viewers, classic Hollywood is as wild a territory as the wild west was to Eastern-Americans. Everything is harsher, our intuitions fail us and only the most traditional of Anglo-Saxon white males find themselves in friendly territory. But there are occasionally a few havens of civilization, even as tentative and rudimentary as they were. So it is that film historians are generally complimentary toward classic traditional western Fort Apache as marking a turning point in Hollywood’s depiction of Native Americans, portraying them as capable, intelligence opponents motivated by real grievances and possessing distinct tribal identities. It’s not a portrayal that sustains much scrutiny today—clichéd, naïve, offensive … but still a step in the right direction compared to previous portrayals as of gratuitously murderous hordes. It also prefigures later nuanced portraits from director John Ford himself, such as The Searchers. As for Fort Apache itself, often considered the first of Ford’s “cavalry trilogy,” it features John Wayne and Henry Fonda butting heads as commanding officers of a small fort, with Wayne playing the reasonable one and Fonda playing the rigid autocratic one. Both of them do well, but Fonda is perhaps more remarkable for an unusual role as an unsympathetic character. There’s some great Monument Valley footage here, especially when the battle sequence starts. Fort Apache reasonably entertaining to watch, although definitely too long in its first hour as the film seems to be flaying about for a story to tell.

Battle of the Bulge (1965)

Battle of the Bulge (1965)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, January 2019) I wonder if there’s an arc to the amount of historical accuracy we expect from real-life events depending on the proximity to those events. Anything made in the ten years following the event must be reasonably exact given that most of the principals (and audiences) are still there to compare notes. (Although this close to the action, things can be slanted toward a specific ideological purpose, or limited by rights issues and/or classified information.) Then there’s a lengthy period in which accuracy is not deemed as important, as memories fade and the era becomes an increasingly loose storytelling playground. Then there’s the longer-term “reverence” period when following the historical record is deemed respectful, especially given the work of professional historians with some detachment. In this progression, Battle of the Bulge would squarely belong to the second, less accurate era. While it does tackle real-life events such as the Ardennes offensive and the logistical challenges of that stage of the war (as opposed to more fanciful WW2 adventures à la Where Eagles Dare or Kelly’s Heroes), the film does so by outrageously compressing events in an unrealistic time period and being shot in a place that looks nothing like the Ardennes. The Wikipedia entry about the film’s historical inaccuracies is a mile long, but you only need a cursory knowledge of the Ardennes counteroffensive (where the forest environment and the cold and sudden snow all played a role, hence the famous anecdotes about Allied forces using white bedsheets as impromptu camouflage) to be taken out of the film’s ambitious but flawed depiction of the events as being in a wide-open plain. This being said, historical accuracy isn’t the ultimate determinant of a film’s worth, and The Battle of the Bulge does fare better when considered as a reality-adjacent WW2 adventure. The Nazis are deliciously devious, the allied are fine folks and the battle (one of the few rare post-Normandy successes for the Axis side) does offer some opportunity for tension and tank engagements. Actors such as Henry Fonda and Robert Shaw add to the appeal, and director Ken Annakin keeps things moving. It’s not a classic war movie but it is a decent one, and should appeal to WW2 buffs even—perhaps especially—given the historical inaccuracies.

C’era una volta il West [Once Upon a Time in the West] (1968)

C’era una volta il West [Once Upon a Time in the West] (1968)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On DVD, October 2018) Is Once Upon a Time in the West the western to end all westerns? Probably not, but watching it after seeing Sergio Leone’s Eastwood-led man-with-no-name trilogy, I was struck at the sheer scope of his achievement here. Far from the low-budget heroics of A Fistful of Dollars, Leone goes for big-budget maximalism in showing how the railroad makes its way to an isolated western town, and the violence that ensues. It takes a while for everything to come into focus, but when it does we have a four-ring circus between a nameless protagonist (Charles Bronson’s “Harmonica,” and you know the tune he plays), a woman trying to transform herself in the West (Claudia Cardinale, captivating), an evil industrialist henchman (Henry Fonda, playing a villain!) and a bandit there to mess everything up (Jason Robart, not outclassed by anyone else). The four quadrants of the plot having been defined, the film then takes on its narrative speed—although at no fewer than 165 minutes and considering Leone’s typically contemplative style, there isn’t quite enough plot here to sustain the film’s duration. Still, it’s entertaining enough if you’re not in a hurry—This is clearly a film by someone who has seen a lot of westerns, and it regurgitates familiar elements in entertaining permutations. Plus there’s Leone’s visual style—the film’s best shot is a slow pullback from a man about to be hanged from an arch, with Monument Valley as a majestic backdrop. Not being much of a Western fanatic (although I appreciate it more and more as I see the best movies of the genre), I can say that there’s a limit to how much I can like Once Upon a Time in the West, but it was more entertaining than I expected, and almost as good as its lengthy running time would justify.

12 Angry Men (1957)

12 Angry Men (1957)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, July 2018) Some movies struggle with the burden of their reputations, but 12 Angry Men ably supports its considerable acclaim. The concept is terrific (twelve men in a sequestered jury decide whether to condemn a young man to death) and the execution does justice to the premise. While clearly a film from the fifties (all-male, all-white cast), it still crackles with dramatic energy and great performances. The way the audience is gradually made aware of the case though conversations and questions is intriguing, and the way no less than twelve characters are sketched in less than 100 minutes is also impressive. Henry Fonda is the star of the film as the lone holdout juror who eventually gets everyone to change their minds, but each actor gets a piece of drama to distinguish themselves. It’s interesting how 12 Angry Men, from a judicial perspective, is both inspiring and horrifying—while the film has a strong message to send about the civil importance of jury duty, it also depends on the jury acting in terrible ways—investigating the case themselves, then building presumption upon presumption. Still, we’re here for the drama more than the lecture, and there is a lot to like in the individual scenes that mark the turning point for each character—particularly satisfying is the sequence in which jurors tell another incredibly racist one to shut up now that he’s had his say. 12 Angry Man is tightly wound-up, with every facet of its background (most notably the weather, and the fan starting to work once the jury shifts) integrated in the plot. It’s quite a movie, and it’s still well worth watching sixty years later.

The Ox-Bow Incident (1943)

The Ox-Bow Incident (1943)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, May 2018) For a genre as critically dismissed as the Western, there are a great number of them that questioned the clichés of westerns … and those tend to have endured far more than the basic westerns. The Ox-Bow Incident is one of those, a western that squarely took aim at the crude justice that other westerns seem too quick to condone. Things are set in motion when a rancher disappears while strangers are seen around. Soon enough, a posse is formed to catch those strangers and enact justice. Despite doubts from various characters, the strangers are found and … but that would be spoiling the film. Suffice to say that The Ox-Bow Incident is meant to leave viewers unsettled and more thankful than ever for due process. Visually, the film isn’t special: it’s in your usual early-forties black-and-white, not particularly distinguished. Harry Morgan and Henry Fonda both star, but the real strength of the film is in its daring screenplay. Adapted from a novel, the film was a box-office failure and a modest critical success (it was nominated for a Best Picture Oscar) but it has endured and is still, today, regularly played on cable TV. It certainly belongs alongside films such as The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, The Searchers, The Shootist, Unforgiven and other westerns that weren’t satisfied with the simplistic cowboys-and-Indian stories that westerns often showcased.

The Grapes of Wrath (1940)

The Grapes of Wrath (1940)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On TV, March 2018) Do American movies ever get as angry as does The Grapes of Wrath? Squarely taking on injustice in Dustbowl-Depression era, the film follows a family forced away from their Oklahoma fame and led to seek work in California fields. It really doesn’t go well for most of the movie, as the “Okies” family encounters death and capitalist exploitation at every turn, only reaching satisfaction of sorts in the hands of a decent government program. While definitely softened from the original Steinbeck novel (including reordering episodes around to provide a good ending), The Grapes of Wrath is still a scathing denunciation of the free market in a time of need. It’s almost continuously infuriating as the protagonist family gets knocked down again—fortunately, the stirring ending manages to make things a bit better, delivering a memorable speech about the resiliency of the people (and the importance of being there to right wrongs) as an epilogue. Visually, the black-and-white quality of the film’s images reinforces the poverty of their surroundings, washing out any colour in a muddle of despair. Still, director John Ford knew what he was doing, and the film is still powerful even today. Consider that The Grapes of Wrath was a major production by a big studio … why is it that movies never get as angry as this one, even at a time when social disparities are ripe for criticism?