John Frankenheimer

Path to War (2002)

Path to War (2002)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, October 2019) John Frankenheimer remains a major director even fifteen years after his death, and Path to War is noteworthy for being his last movie, a made-for-HBO production that nonetheless shows his consummate skills in putting together an interesting film. It’s easy to see why it wasn’t considered for the big screen: as a nearly three hours behind-the-scenes look at the way the United States gradually manipulated itself into launching the Vietnam War, it’s a cerebral topic that is best appreciated at home. Still, the flow of the film’s sequences and the care through which the actors are delivering their performance is clearly indicative of someone like Frankenheimer’s talents. The film itself is interesting in that it gives life to a geopolitical theory: the idea that Lyndon B. Johnston wanted to focus on his domestic agenda but found himself increasingly surrounded by people who all (regretfully) saw no way out of greater engagement, even those who had been forcefully opposed to the idea in the first place. There’s an interesting statement here about the inevitability of some processes once set in motion, and how powerless even the so-called most powerful people can be. Path to War may or may not reflect the entire truth about how the US got stuck in Vietnam, but it’s an unusual movie for even approaching the topic. Performance-wise, Michael Gambon, Donald Sutherland and Alec Baldwin all deliver subtle, strong and somewhat atypical performances acting as historical characters. It can certainly be amusing to spot the various historical characters populating the story—all the way to the appearance of Jack Valenti, who worked at the White House before becoming a Hollywood figurehead. All in all, this is prestige made-for-TV filmmaking, tacking serious topics in a competent fashion. There’s an interesting link to be made between Frankenheimer’s 1960s wild political thrillers and the reality-based story presented in Path to War. In a way, he got to revisit his own past filmography in presenting the real thing.

The Young Stranger (1957)

The Young Stranger (1957)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, October 2019) I only watched The Young Stranger because it was legendary director John Frankenheimer’s debut feature film, and at times it felt as this remained the only reason to watch the film. Completed shortly after Rebel Without a Cause’s success, it’s about the listless ennui of a teenager ignored by his father, which leads him to a scuffle at a movie theatre and then to further issues at the police station and the family home where he seems intent on not accepting a shred of humility or contrition. It quickly leads to a confrontation between the stern father and the rebellious son. (I’m more disturbed than anyone else by the idea that I now identify far more firmly with the father than the teenager.)  The teenage protagonist does his best throughout the film to act in an intensely unlikable fashion, compounding one exasperating display of attitude by another. And yet The Young Stranger somehow ends up taking a curious milquetoast position that everybody should learn to understand each other through the curious device of the teenager assaulting an older man a second time. The film is clearly aimed at the teenage audience, and the ways it champions its adolescent agenda is off-putting—it jumps far too quickly to redemption. Still, the film’s technical qualities are better than its muddled message: Frankenheimer keeps control over his tone, and the result is a bit less melodramatic than the James Dean classic, a bit more grounded than other teenager movies of the time, and not a bad watch as long as you can get over the protagonist’s crummy behaviour. Which, admittedly, can be a high bar to clear.

The Gypsy Moths (1969)

The Gypsy Moths (1969)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, September 2019) Looking at director John Frankenheimer’s filmography and The Gypsy Moths’ production year, it’s hard to avoid thinking that it’s his attempt to come to grip with the New Hollywood that was beginning in earnest at the time. It takes a potentially white-knuckle topic (skydiving, at the time something so novel that you could charge admission for such shows) and ends up wrapping it in small-town existentialism, as the quiet lives of the locals are contrasted with the devil-may-care attitude of the nomadic protagonists. It’s not hard to see the clash of culture between the two Hollywoods here, especially when it features a pair of Classic Hollywood icons (Burt Lancaster as an aging daredevil, and Deborah Kerr in one of her last performances) playing off a pair of actors who would later become far better known (Gene Hackman, quite compelling; and Bonnie Bedelia whom most will recognize from performances twenty years later in Die Hard and Presumed Innocent). As an illustration of a pivotal time in American movies, it’s not uninteresting. As a straight-up drama, however, it does have problems: The skydiving sequences are compressed at the end of the film, the climactic sequence arguably comes twenty minutes before the end, the small-town drama takes forever to get to a point and can’t quite manage to become effective. Compared to other films of the period, it fails to engage fully with the social changes that were sweeping America, despite half-hearted nude sequences and adultery. Compared with three of the other four Lancaster/Frankenheimer collaborations, The Gypsy Moths feels limp and meandering for most of its duration, only becoming alive when shooting the skydiving sequences. Said sequences are still interesting, but they’ve been duplicated so often (in everything from Moonraker to both Point Break films) that they’ve lost their impact—not to mention the rise of skydiving as a recreational sport. The film’s most flawed aspect comes at the very end, when what should have been a climactic moment merely leads to an extended epilogue that doesn’t go anywhere that a better ending would have achieved in thirty seconds. Historical accounts of the film suggest that studio meddling may have been responsible for the film’s refusal to fully engage with its uncensored themes (and that’s probably true—not everyone knew what to make of the post-Hays-Code artistic freedom) but there’s a limit to the amount of interference in a project with a lopsided structure. The Gypsy Moths does amount to an interesting curio if you’re going for a complete Frankenheimer filmography (especially since he considered it one of his favourites) or an illustration of late-1960s changes in movie history, but overall, it’s a bit of a disappointment.

Birdman of Alcatraz (1962)

Birdman of Alcatraz (1962)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, July 2019) There’s always something off-putting about bio-fiction that ennobles its subject beyond any reasonable bound. Watching Birdman of Alcatraz, for instance, you’d be ready to go to the barricades to understand why an intellect bright enough to write a book about birds and their diseases would remain locked up inside the American penal system with no hope of parole. Why, he seems so good-natured and mild-mannered! But, of course, that’s the magic of movies for you. Dig deeper in the Wikipedia entry for the Birdman of Leavenworth (for he had no birds once transferred to Alcatraz—that’s right, the film’s inaccuracies begin in the title itself!) and you’d find that the real story is quite different. The character in reality was a violent, short-tempered, abusive person, to say nothing of his younger sexual preferences. While the basic facts of the film’s narrative are based on reality, much of the details are wildly off, exaggerated when it suits the narrative (such as having a singular antagonist within the prison walls) and downplayed or elided when they don’t. Every character is prettier, smarter, kinder than reality. But that’s Hollywood for you. With Burt Lancaster in the lead and Lancaster-handpicked director John Frankenheimer at the helm, Birdman of Alcatraz goes for inspiration and amazement—if that character was able to achieve so much when locked up, then what’s stopping most of us? Taken on its own, the film is watchable enough … if it wasn’t for the gnawing suspicion that we’re not getting half the story.

The Train (1964)

The Train (1964)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, May 2019) If there’s a subspecies of suspense movies that usually aged well, it’s those thrillers that deal with cold mechanical steel—cars, trucks, trains, planes. One of the best, The Wages of Fear, is dull right up until it onboards the trucks and then suspense feels as immediate as anything else since then. So it is that The Train also deals in rolling stock; plus it has Nazis as antagonists. The premise is different enough to be interesting, but simple enough to put in a few words: As the Allies advance toward Paris, Nazis are stealing artwork and stashing them on trains bound for Berlin. The resistance won’t have any of this—but the problem is that they can’t just blow up or derail the train without harming the artwork itself. In steps our protagonist, played by Burt Lancaster with his usual solidity. He’s a top resistance operative, but he’s not the artistic type: he couldn’t care less about the paintings, but events soon steer him toward pure vengeance. In the hands of veteran director John Frankenheimer, The Train is a steely action/adventure film, not particularly given to humour when there are more serious topics to tackle. The camera fluidly moves through trainyards, immersing us in the environment before blowing them up. There are some amazing shots in the film, including the bombing of an entire trainyard at Vaires. While the film does feel a bit long at times, Lancaster couldn’t be better, and the tension remains high as there’s a limit to the amount of mayhem that the resistance can do to stop but not destroy the artwork. The film’s spectacle arguably peaks before its climax, but the result is nonetheless satisfying.

Doctor Moreau’s Island (1996)

Doctor Moreau’s Island (1996)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(In French, On TV, March 2019) The making of Doctor Moreau’s Island is one of the most legendarily troubled production of the past few decades, so it’s fascinating to find that the film itself is spectacularly dull. Quirky, twisted, off-putting at times, maybe, but once you take away the menagerie of human/animal hybrids designed by Stan Winston’s company, not a lot is left to contemplate. Handled by directors Richard Stanley then John Frankenheimer, the story is dull, muddled and uninteresting—even updating the classic story to modern technobabble doesn’t do much to help. Casting-wise, Fairuza Balk always fun to see, while Val Kilmer has a much smaller role than expected and David Thewlis is the film’s true protagonist. Let’s not talk about Marlon Brando, who’s a walking disaster (hey, let’s cast him in a role of a legendary eccentric lost in the jungle—what could possibly go wrong?)  The film’s big budget doesn’t really help things—even the credit sequence is terrible. If you want better entertainment, read about the film’s production rather than just watch the film.

Grand Prix (1966)

Grand Prix (1966)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, March 2019) As I continue my exploration of classic Hollywood cinema, I have a growing fondness for those movies that manage to capture something that existed then and doesn’t now. Movies with a big enough budget to fulfill their goals of immersing us in a world unlike our own. Movies such as Grand Prix, which takes us right in the middle of mid-1960s Formula 1 racing. Hop in the cockpit of a fast car, because we’re going for a ride! Director John Frankenheimer here manages the stunning feat of presenting an entire F1 season through distinct races, augmented by some stunning cinematography designed by none other than Saul Bass. Several sequences have an authentic feeling of speed and danger as we sit next to the driver, fly in helicopters, or witness impressively staged accidents. Even today, the racing sequences impress—and it’s amazing to realize that this was shot for real without CGI trickery—it would be almost impossible to restage Grand Prix with its period feel today (although Rush did come close), making it something that can never be surpassed even with today’s means.   It may not come as a surprise to find out that the narrative connective tissue between the races is far more conventional. There are only so many permutations of classic racing subplots, after all, and Grand Prix only has to put up enough connective tissue to get the next race with a bit of dramatic context. There is some serious acting talent on display here. Yves Montand is quite cool in a leading role, as is a young James Garner. None other than Toshiro Mifune makes a cameo as a Japanese racing team owner. Meanwhile, Jessica Walter is jaw-dropping beautiful as the romantic lead. Movies with intermissions usually have me wishing they were shorter, but not Grand Prix: this one is worth the near-three-hour running time. What an incredible film, even half a century later.

Fail-Safe (1964)

Fail-Safe (1964)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, September 2018) If ever the news have you down, if ever you start despairing for humanity, if even the nights are dark and the days even darker, then have a look at Fail-Safe and be comforted by the fact that we all made it out of the Cold War and its overhanging threat of a nuclear holocaust. A nightmare put on film by director John Frankenheimer, Fail-Safe is one of 1964’s three delayed reactions to the Cuba crisis executed as thrillers. Unlike Seven Days in May, it’s very much centred on the possibility of nuclear exchange between the USA and the USSR. Unlike Dr. Strangelove, it’s not a comedy. Really not a comedy. From the first few unsettling images to the last heartbreaking freeze-frames, Fail-Safe is unrelenting in its fatalistic grimness. It follows an implacable logic in which the worst traits of men, machines and systems all lead to the death of millions. Hope is dangled then taken away and even the usually jovial Walter Matthau here plays completely against type as an implacable academician coolly assessing the logic of mutually assured destruction. Peter Fonda is also quite good as The President facing down a catastrophic scenario in which an out-of-control American bomber mistakenly believe it must bomb Moscow. Asphyxiating and merciless, Fail-Safe is shot is stark black-and-white with very few musical cues, its naturalistic approach making everything feel even worse. Such a situation may not be particularly credible today, but it’s sobering to watch the film and realize that it reflected a real possibility back in 1964. We may have our own issues today, but I’ll take them over the threat of all-consuming nuclear war.

Seven Days in May (1964)

Seven Days in May (1964)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, May 2018) In between Seven Days in May, Dr. Strangelove and Fail-Safe, 1964 was a big, big year for black-and-white techno-thrillers in Hollywood. Dr. Strangelove distinguished itself through black comedy and Fail-Safe made few compromises in showing a nightmare scenario, leaving Seven Days in May as the more average film, although this is a relative term when discussing a film in which the United States government discovers an impending military coup and tries to defuse it before it’s too late. The black-and-white cinematography highlights the non-nonsense atmosphere that the film is going for, trying to make the unthinkable at least plausible. There is something admirable to the way the film builds not to an explosive guns-and-explosion confrontation, but to a quiet climax in which the would-be traitors are sent scurrying, and the country avoids a dramatic confrontation that would have had terrible consequences. The film works hard at instilling a basic credibility to its plotting, even with some then-near-future technological touches such as video screens. The tension is there, and being able to rely on capable actors such as Kirk Douglas, Fredric March (at the close of a long career), Ava Gardner or Burt Lancaster. Director John Frankenheimer made his reputation on thriller much like Seven Days in May, and is still effective today. Compared to its two other 1964 techno-thrillers, the film has aged very well—it may be hard to imagine nuclear war today, but overthrowing a president is still within the realm of possibility…

The Manchurian Candidate (1962)

The Manchurian Candidate (1962)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(Second viewing, On Cable TV, November 2017) I thought I remembered The Manchurian Candidate from seeing it (on TV, in French) more than two decades ago, but it turns out that I had forgotten quite a bit in the meantime. Which is a good thing, given that I got to re-experience it all over again. A product of the paranoid early sixties (it was famously released shortly before the Cuba Crisis), The Manchurian Candidate delves into far-reaching Russian plots to destabilize the United States through intervention in its politics—but stop me if this is too familiar circa 2017. What I really did not remember from my first viewing is how early we know of the Russian brainwashing, and the delightfully crazy way in which this is explained, through a dream sequence that switches between real and imagined environments. After that, it’s up to Frank Sinatra as the protagonist to get Laurence Harvey (as the tragic anti-hero) to reject his condition. There are complications. While The Manchurian Candidate remains a clear product of its time, director John Frankenheimer keeps things moving, and the fascinating glimpse at early-sixties contemporary reality is now fascinating and proof that the film has aged well. It even takes potshots at McCarthyism. Sinatra is quite good in a relatively straightforward role, while Angela Lansbury is surprisingly evil as a scheming mother. Better yet, the film itself is a crackling good thriller with interweaving subplots and good character performances. While much of The Manchurian Candidate will feel stiff by today’s standard (and occasionally silly or misleading, such as Sinatra’s character love interest), it remains compelling today and well worth another look.