James Coburn

  • Giù la testa [Duck, you Sucker aka A fistful of Dynamite] (1971)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On DVD, August 2021) It really doesn’t take a lot of time to understand that Duck, You Sucker isn’t your typical western — after all, it opens on a quote from Mao and immediately jumps in an opening sequence that takes aim at post-revolution “elites” mocking the lower classes, followed by violent retribution. Clearly having something to say about the false romanticism of revolution (“Revolution is confusion” is a key expression), this last Sergio Leone spaghetti western feels disjointed at times, because it seems intent on having a lot of fun before bringing the hammer down to achieve its dour thematic objectives. Much of the film’s immediate appeal comes from the interplay between Rod Steiger as a Mexican bandit and James Coburn as an explosive-dispensing Irish renegade. Coburn is all cool here, and the film wisely features plenty of stuff blowing up real good considering that it has an explosive expert as a protagonist. There’s a lot of banter between mismatched leads, and an ironic arc in seeing a cowardly character stumbling into heroism. Much of the film’s first half feels like a pleasant, entertaining romp, helped along by using a western look in a much later period (1913), allowing for cowboys and locomotives but also motorcycles and German-issued military equipment. (If you’re looking for a halfway-plausible cowboy-versus-Nazi film, this is still your best bet.)  But Leone has a much more dispiriting destination in mind, and so the second half of Duck, You Sucker gets darker both visually and narratively, leading to a conclusion that clashes with the comic first half. It’s also, very much in the Leone tradition, quite a bit too long for its own good. (Also, that “Sean-Sean” song? Eh.)  It’s still quite an unusual film — I’m not sure there’s anything quite like it elsewhere in the traditional Western filmography (the closest example that comes to mind is the South Korean “kimchi western” The Good, the Bad, the Weird). It does feel substantially different from the other Leone Westerns it’s usually bundled with — misleading marketing aside, don’t go in there expecting a fourth Fistful of Dollars.

  • Convoy (1978)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Tubi Streaming, July 2021) Considering that I was three years old when Convoy came out and something like six when it made its way to broadcast TV, I have this diffuse familiarity with the film, yet no specific recollection of having seen it. Hence, perhaps, my eagerness to watch it as soon as I saw it pop up on Tubi’s lineup — for all of the commercial success that it was at the time, Convoy doesn’t appear all that often on streaming sites and TV channels. Now, after watching the film, I’m open to the suggestion that it’s not a very good movie. If you’re approaching it as a piece of director Sam Peckinpah’s filmography, you’d bound to be disappointed by its lack of bite and almost cartoonish approach to violence. If you’re the kind of person who cares about tonal unity, you will be disappointed by some abrupt gear shifts between serious(ish) drama and comic(ish) hijinks. If you’re after stunts and action, you may be disappointed at the limited number of set-pieces. If you’re thirsting for a movie that goes to the next level, you’re probably not going to like how it glances at some issues, then ricochets without digging too deep. But here’s the thing: Save for a third-quarter lull, I had quite a good time taking in Convoy as my Saturday night movie. Coming from a decade of outlaw chic, it goes for some relevant commentary on police abuse of authority and some gentle grittiness. There’s some intriguing racial casting (most notably Madge Sinclair) alongside superstar Kris Kristofferson and Ali MacGraw (who answers the question, “What does a supermodel with a terrible haircut look like?” with the obvious “Still a supermodel!”) It helps that I’m fond of the highway outlaw movies of the time, from The Cannonball Run to Smokey and the Bandit and others — that “55 speed limit” thing really ignited some fun movies back then. While the number of stunts in Convoy may pale compared to some of those other movies, there are still a few good moments here — and I was amused to find out that one of my favourite stunts in the film, the truck turning over in a tight turn, was a completely unscripted accident that was hurriedly written back into the narrative. Peckinpah fans may be reassured by rumours that much of the film was directed by James Coburn (!) due to Peckinpah’s substance abuse. Many of Convoy’s contemporary reviews mention it coming too late in the CB/trucker craze to impress, but that issue has been considerably flattened by more than four decades — it’s now a fascinating period piece whose datedness is part of the charm. Oh, I won’t argue that Convoy could have been much better if there had there been a better screenwriter at the helm and a more reliable director than Peckinpah. But even without that, it’s a very enjoyable film as it is.

  • The Last of Sheila (1973)

    The Last of Sheila (1973)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2021) There’s something primal and timeless about a good murder mystery—the universal stakes of death being on the line, and the playful nature of the convoluted plotting that usually accompanies such films. The Last of Sheila has, to put it bluntly, not necessarily aged well: The muddy cinematography is clearly from the early 1970s, as are the sometimes-hideous fashions and the contemporary details that pepper the film. Here, a Hollywood mogul calls six “friends” for a Mediterranean holiday aboard his yacht. But what they discover early on is that the puzzle-obsessed mogul has fun and games in mind for them: Six days, six stops, six enigmas to resolve. But what they eventually discover is that the mogul has a much darker scheme in mind—a year earlier, his wife was killed in a hit-and-run, and the guilty driver is among them. Then it gets more complicated—all the way to an ending where the survivors all find killers and guilty consciences. The cast is interesting, what with James Coburn having far too much fun as the mogul, and guests played by a motley crew, including an old James Mason, a young Ian McShane, and Raquel Welch in the middle of her peak popularity. The script, from unlikely scribes Anthony Perkins and Stephen Sondheim (who used to host murder mystery parties), is suitably twisty, witty and clever—I’m not too sure that the third act is as spectacular as it should be given its more intimate setting, but it satisfies well enough. Despite being visibly stuck in the early 1970s, The Last of Sheila is highly watchable—even more so for fans of the actors involved, but accessible to all, especially once the fun and games start.

  • Cross of Iron (1977)

    Cross of Iron (1977)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2020) Director Sam Peckinpah and war movies seem like an ideal match, and one of the surprises of his filmography is that there are so few of them in there. Maybe producers couldn’t trust him with the budget of a war movie; maybe he felt that there were only so many ways he could say he was anti-war. No matter the reason, at least we have Cross of Iron to fall back on—a gritty, non-sentimental, harsh and nihilistic view of WW2 as seen from the German officers fighting against the Soviets. (The question of their allegiance to Hitler is minimized—one character admits to hating Hitler, and the Nazi political officer is a reprehensible person even by the standards of the film.) The story is substantial, having to do with a glory-seeking officer facing off against a more pragmatic one, but the real worth of Cross of Iron is in the implacable battle sequences filled with explosions, death and futility. Peckinpah is in his element here, as he apparently revels in the senseless violence, the machismo of the soldiers, and the innate ugliness of it all. At least we get decent performances out of James Coburn, Maximilian Schell, James Mason and David Warner. Cross of Iron isn’t for everyone: even those viewers familiar with Peckinpah’s brand of violence may be put off by the unrelenting pace of this film and the way it sees no way out. But that does put Cross of Iron squarely in-line with the rest of the 1970s war films, digesting Vietnam through increasingly meaningless war films that were much closer to the war-is-hell end of the spectrum than war-is-an-adventure Hollywood movies of an earlier generation.

  • Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid (1973)

    Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid (1973)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2020) Like most 1970s westerns, Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid is grimy, dirty, dispiriting and violent. In his rush to do a revisionist take on the genre, director Sam Peckinpah goes back to his old standbys of violence, nudity (not arousing), dusty sets and unhappy endings (even when it’s shown first). Yet another brick in the mythological wall erected by Hollywood at the memory of Billy the Kid, this film stars an aging lawman, Pat Garrett, hired to kill his friend Billy the Kid. Much of the film is a chase, although one tempered by a sense of fair play and friendship. There are some interesting names in the cast, mind you: James Coburn as Garrett is a good idea, Kris Kristofferson has an early role (without facial hair) as Billy the Kid, and Bob Dylan not only scores the film (writing the classic “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” for it) but has a small part at the edges of the narrative. Fans of Hollywood history may want to have a peep at the film’s very troubled production history, with a booze-fuelled Peckinpah constantly at odds with the studio up and including the studio chopping up the film for distribution. (Thanks to TCM, I saw the definitive “director’s cut” rather than the theatrical version.) You can find plenty of laudatory reviews for Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid, but this won’t be one of them. I can’t muster up much enthusiasm for what feels like an undistinguished revisionist western, adrift in a long, long list of similar films made during New Hollywood and later. I’m not saying it’s bad—I’m just saying that I didn’t care for it.

  • Charade (1963)

    Charade (1963)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2018) It does take a while before Charade comes into focus. It begins strangely, with a contrived meet-cute at a ski resort in the Alps that turns into an even stranger succession of events once the heroine comes back to Paris to find out that her husband has died, a large amount of money is missing, and three strangers really hated her ex-husband. The artificiality of the setup is almost overpowering, and even the comforting presences of Audrey Hepburn as the widow and Cary Grant as a mysterious free agent aren’t quite enough to unpack the heavy-handed setup. But as the deaths and double-crosses being to pile up, Charade does acquire a nice velocity, and even answers the questions raised in the first act. Hepburn is adorable as the endangered heroine, despite being too young for the role. Meanwhile, Grant is terrific as someone who may or may not be friendly—he’s occasionally very funny (ha, that shower scene!), and his last grimace of self-revelation at the very end is like seeing a split-second callback to the classic comedies early in his career. Also noteworthy as supporting roles for Walter Matthau, George Kennedy and James Coburn. Great scores and visual design by Henry Mancini and Saul Bass round up an impressive crew. Surprisingly not directed by Alfred Hitchcock, Charade is increasingly endearing the longer it goes on, and satisfyingly blends romance, comedy and suspense. It’s well worth watching. Just make sure to give it more than thirty minutes to make sense.