Holly Hunter

  • Broadcast News (1987)

    Broadcast News (1987)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2020) This almost counts as a second viewing of Broadcast News for me—I distinctly recall seeing the last half of it sometime during the 1990s and being both impressed by the film’s intelligence and disappointed at the somewhat sad ending. But half a film isn’t the same as the entire one, and watching this in middle age doesn’t hit quite the same as an older teen. One thing remains constant, and it’s that Broadcast News still captures the organized madness of TV news like few other films: writer-director James L. Brooks uses the medium’s fundamental tension (entertainment versus substance) as an engine through which to propel a romantic triangle and a series of thorny ethical crises. Holly Hunter is the rock on which the film rests, as a news producer attracted to two very different reporters—William Hurt as the pretty-boy anchor, and Albert Brooks as the solid but prickly expert. (Meanwhile, Joan Cusack is very cute in a supporting role, and owns a flashy action sequence in the first act. Oh, and Jack Nicholson has a cameo as, well, pretty much that universe’s equivalent to God.) It’s all very clever and witty—filmmaking for middlebrow adults able to tolerate a bit of theatrics in order to illustrate a more subtle point. I liked Broadcast News even more this almost-second-time around now that the ending doesn’t strike me as particularly sad, just appropriate.

  • Always (1989)

    Always (1989)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, March 2020) In any examination of Steven Spielberg’s filmography, Always usually gets short thrift. There’s a two-hour-long Spielberg documentary out there that barely spends a few seconds on it, and it seldom pops up in any casual discussion of his work. There’s a good reason for that: standing awkwardly at the intersection between action movie, supernatural fantasy and romantic drama, Always is not ready for easy packaging. It’s also, perhaps understandably, a bit scattered in-between paying homage to its 1940s inspiration, delivering 1980s action sequences and trying to find a satisfying dramatic arc in a bone-simple story. Based on WW2 fighter pilot drama A Guy Named Joe (which shares much of the same awkwardness), Always updates the setting to modern-day firefighting bomber flyers, and kills off its lead character so that he becomes a ghost able to assist another pilot who grows closer to his ex-fiancée. There’s not a whole lot for the film to do beyond the grieving dramatic arc, and the second half of Always peters out into a far less interesting path to a predetermined conclusion. From a relatively strong start, the film progressively loses steam and doesn’t keep its most spectacular moments for the end. Still, there’s quite a bit to like in seeing how a veteran director like Spielberg tackles even substandard material. From the very first shot, we’re clearly in the hands of someone who likes to play with film narrative, and carefully composing his images to choose what the camera will or won’t show. Richard Dreyfuss is not bad in the lead role despite his typical 1980s arrogance, and Holly Hunter also does well as the female romantic lead. (Still, it’s John Goodman who shines in a comic supporting role.) Audrey Hepburn is an angelic vision in her last film role—she simply looks amazing at sixty. There’s a pair of good action flying sequences in the first half of the film, and the atmosphere of a firefighting camp is so vividly rendered that it’s a shame we couldn’t spend more time there. Still, Always makes a strong case for being Spielberg’s most ordinary, least distinctive film. It doesn’t have the glorious misfires of 1941, it’s not a kid’s film like The BFG, it’s not animated like The Adventures of Tintin—it’s just there, in all of its shortcomings, muddled execution and decreasing interest.

  • The Big Sick (2017)

    The Big Sick (2017)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Google Play Streaming, November 2018) As a genre, the romantic comedy will never die as long as it adapts to the times, keeps finding intriguing hooks and invests in its characters. The Big Sick is a surprisingly engaging example of the form, showing us contemporary romance, likable characters and an irresistible hook: What if a recently-formed couple faced the impending death of one of them? That may not be a funny premise in itself, but don’t worry: everybody gets better in the end. Kumail Nanjiani and Zoe Kazan are well cast as the lead couple—Nanjiani even playing his own role given that the story is loosely adapted from his own life. The cross-cultural courtship themes abruptly shift gear into more dramatic material once one of the romantic leads goes into a coma, although the appearance of their parents (great performances by a high-energy Holly Hunter—who gets the film’s best scene—and an unusually likable Ray Romano) add more complications to the proceedings. Since the film revolves around a stand-up comedian, expect a few one-liners and glimpses at the tough life of these performers. The good script is backed by strong execution that manages to find a balance between very tricky material. It manages to combine modern cynicism with earned sincerity, and wraps things up with a belated but no less effective bow. There’s been a lot of hype about The Big Sick as an independent film darling, and it admirably sustains it during viewing.

  • A Life Less Ordinary (1997)

    A Life Less Ordinary (1997)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, December 2015) In trying to explain the mess that is A Life Less Ordinary, I’m tempted to say that one doesn’t become a daring visionary director without making a few mistakes along the way, and so Danny Boyle didn’t become Danny Boyle without making a few less-successful films on his way to Slumdog Millionaire and 127 Hours.  A Life Less Ordinary could have been a frantic star-crossed crime romance between an arrogant heiress and an oppressed blue-collar worker, but the script felt that it was necessary to frame this romance in a fantasy involving angels tasked in making two very different people fall in love.  You can see here the various frantic methods that Boyle often uses to shake things up, even though they’re not always successful.  Depicting heaven as a police station where everything is in white?  Great visuals, all the way down to the white stockings.  Spending an interminable time with characters signing Beyond the Sea in a redneck karaoke bar?  Oh, shoot me now.  Ewan MacGregor isn’t much more than simply OK in the lead role, while Cameron Diaz gets an early borderline-unlikable role to play –far more interesting are Delroy Lindo and Holly Hunter as angels on a mission, even though the particulars of their plot-line are increasingly ridiculous.  A Life Less Ordinary is a film less ordinary, and it suffers from its own quirkiness, trying to blend romance with fantasy with bloody violence.  The tonal shifts are severe and the whole thing becomes some something to be appreciated more than to be experienced: I suspect that I would have liked the film more had I seen it fifteen years ago.  I also suspect that the film suffered from comparisons to Boyle’s earlier Shallow Grave and Trainspotting.  Not, it’s not as good as those two.  On the other hand, it does have a considerable amount of (misguided) energy, which isn’t too bad.  If nothing else, it can still claim, more than a decade and a half later, that there still isn’t anything quite like it.