Leslie Caron

  • Promise Her Anything (1966)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) I suppose that “a romantic comedy written by the author of The Exorcist” is not the best way to sell Promise Her Anything, so try something like “Warren Beatty plays a Greenwich Village nudie film director who is stuck babysitting the toddler son of a love interest played by Leslie Caron.”  There! Much better—although not that appealing. Infused with the very particular atmosphere of a 1960s sex comedy but saddled with some messy romantic comedy complications, this is a film that doesn’t quite know where it’s going, and certainly can’t hit a mark that it doesn’t know exists. If you’re in the business of selling romantic fantasy, you’re also responsible for selling a simplification of life. Once we’re deep in the female lead picking husbands, one of her picks being a kid-hating paediatrician and the other making adult movies while the kid is watching… well, that’s not exactly reassuring at all. (Even the “adult film” portion is toned down, as per 1960s comedies, to nothing worse than swimwear.) Beatty is stuck in a light comedy not suitable for his talents, and the same can also be said for Caron, although she does get to wear an amazing body-hugging white lace two-piece outfit that’s easily more alluring than the half-naked girls showing up in the naughty films. It’s all acceptable if you’re in a forgiving mood, but it’s not in any way exceptional even when you compare it to other 1960s sex comedies. It either doesn’t try or try too hard, and as a result it settles for nothing much. Promise Her Anything is slightly interesting if you’re looking to catalogue the evolution of film comedy in the 1960s, but by the point it becomes relevant, you’ve already seen all the better ones.

  • The Story of Three Loves (1953)

    The Story of Three Loves (1953)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) As much as we can admire classic Hollywood’s greatest hits, talk fondly about its actors and follow the filmography of its directors, not every film of the era leaves a mark, even when it does feature great directors and a cast of known names. That’s the case with The Story of Three Loves given its severe structural issues: an anthology film composed of three segments, it suffers from the usual afflictions of such movies. The actors are only there for a third of the time, the tone shifts all over the place, the segments aren’t equally interesting, and there’s less time to attach ourselves to the characters, which is particularly bad in discussing character-based romance. Accordingly, perhaps, each segment has its own gimmick — from ballet dancing to body-switching to trapeze. Alas, the three segments also feel like short takes on topics that would be best approached in better full-length movies such as The Red Shoes, Big and Trapeze, respectively. Sure, there’s Kirk Douglas tearing up the screen, Leslie Caron speaking French and James Mason’s distinctive vocal cadence. But they’re not there for the entire film — in fact, they’re in three different segments. Vincente Minnelli directs one segment but not the others. Perhaps inevitably, The Story of Three Loves doesn’t leave much of an impression, nor much to chew upon. It is an eloquent example of what early-1950s MGM could bring to bear on a project, but it’s not, by itself, something particularly striking.

  • The Man with a Cloak (1951)

    The Man with a Cloak (1951)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, April 2020) Two Classic Hollywood genres crash into each other in The Man with a Cloak: The historical drama and film noir. I mean—why not? Part 1948 costume drama, part historical fantasy involving the fate of Napoleon’s France being played out in Manhattan by Edgar Allan Poe, specifically through the vast fortune of one of the film’s characters. Alas, many people are after that fortune, and the film takes a sombre turn when wills, poisons and deaths come into play. While it takes a while to heat up (frankly, the beginning is just dull), The Man with a Cloak does get nicely dramatic after a while—all the way to a knock-down drawn-out fist-fight at the end. This being said, I suppose that most twenty-first viewers will have a look due to Barbara Stanwyck (always magnificent) in one of the lead roles, alongside Joseph Cotton as a mysterious investigator and Leslie Caron playing a visiting Frenchwoman. It’s not quite correct to call The Man with a Cloak a pure film noir, but in addition to borrowing plot elements from the genre (and a bit of gothic mystery), it also tries to ape many of its stylistic features—albeit to middling effect, as director Fletcher Markle wasn’t exactly a gifted stylist. Still, it does add a bit of atmosphere to a film that can certainly use it. The film’s final revelation feels more like a joke than a serious twist, but there it is. The Man with a Cloak is hardly a great film, but it does offer something slightly different from either pure costume drama or film noir. Plus, hey : Stanwyck.

  • Lili (1953)

    Lili (1953)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2020) The comparison points between Lili and other hit movies of previous years underline that this was a follow-up film trying to capitalize on many of the same crowd-pleasing elements without quite having what it takes to pull it off. Itemizing the obvious similarities: MGM musical, picturesque French setting, Leslie Caron in the lead, and a big fantasy ballet number in the last third of the film. Yup; some studio executives saw Gigi or An American in Paris and thought they could do more of the same. It’s hard to fault their thinking—Lili did good business and was nominated for a surprising number of Academy Awards. Let’s remember that this was at a time when MGM could not do wrong. Unfortunately, it hasn’t aged so well: Mel Ferrer is good, but no substitute as a singer/dancer for someone like Gene Kelly, and Caron can’t quite sustain the entire weight of the film on her shoulders. Worse yet is the feeling that this is a rethread, a very deliberate attempt to capture past glory. The puppet motif seems a bit too self-satisfied, and the musical aspect of the film is underwhelming—there aren’t many songs, and they’re not particularly catchy. From a twenty-first century perspective, the idea of a thirtysomething man puppeteering a suicidal sixteen-year-old character into a relationship is far creepier than the puppets themselves. Even if Lili is not bad per se (it even features Zsa Zsa Gabor, if that’s your thing), it’s only worth a shrug when placed alongside the other musicals that inspired it.

  • Gigi (1958)

    Gigi (1958)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On DVD, January 2018) I’m annoyed that I don’t like Gigi more than I do. After all, at first glance, it should work much better than it does—it’s a big-budget musical that manages to affect a cynical view of romances before going back to classical values right in time for the ending. Set in early-20th century Paris, Gigi takes on the courtesan culture and makes it shine as an entirely acceptable alternative for young women who can’t be bothered by traditional life paths. In other hands, it could have been a playful, insightful way to poke fun at the conventions of musicals. Alas, this Oscar-award-winning movie makes a few missteps along the way and really doesn’t leave a good impression. Things get off on a now-terrifying wrong foot as the movie begins with an older man signing “Thank Heaven for Little Girls,” essentially making a case that young girls are awesome because they’ll grow up to be sexy women worth sleeping with. Eeeeeeeeek. (Contemporary restaging of Gigi wisely give the song to the elderly courtesan character, which is only marginally less icky but still an improvement.)  Too bad for Maurice Chevalier, who’s otherwise quite charming and likable as an older playboy who’s come to his senses—thematically, his “I’m Glad I’m Not Young Anymore” is the kind of topic I wish was covered more often in pop culture. Other bad touches abound, such as a jocular way of looking at the male protagonist earning his “first suicide attempt” from a jilted ex-lover. Given this far more adult take on romantic musicals, what’s perhaps most damning about Gigi is the way it may present itself at an edgy film but ultimately (and predictably) fall back on rote values in time for its ending. It simply doesn’t have the guts to follow its early contrarian impulses. As a result, it ends up as a muddled piece of work—too cynical to be mindlessly enjoyable, but ultimately unsatisfying for not forging its own path. Taken as individual musical numbers, it’s still often visually spectacular and impressive in the way only classic MGM musicals could be. (My favourite anecdote about the film is that the day following Gigi’s Best Picture Oscar win, MGM receptionists answered the phone with “M-Gigi-M”) But—wow—has the film aged badly in some crucial ways. 

  • An American in Paris (1951)

    An American in Paris (1951)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On DVD, January 2018) I’ll be the first to admit that classic musicals aren’t for everyone, but there’s a fun quality to An American in Paris that makes it irresistible. From the pleasantly idealized portrait of post-war Paris to witty musical numbers that acknowledge their own nature as musical numbers, this is a fun, not particularly deep but rather enjoyable musical. It won an Oscar, but it feels considerably less substantial than you’d expect—just a few Americans having fun in a glossy version of Paris, wooing girls and getting into all sorts of dance numbers. Gene Kelly is fantastic in the lead role (he also brought his distinctive touch to the film’s choreography, including the spectacular but rather long standout ballet sequence at the end of the film), with Leslie Caron simply being adorable as the romantic ideal, and Oscar Levant as comic relief. While An American in Paris is notable for its extended ballet sequence that makes much of the film’s last half-hour, I found it long and disconnected from the rest of the film—of course, that’s the point. And it’s impressive to see Kelly make ballet not only accessible to movie audiences, but actually fun. Still, I like other moments of the film better—The “black-and-white” party sequence is visually memorable, and the sequence in which Henri first describes the heroine of the film is a delight. I can never say enough good things about Kelly, the colours are bright, the atmosphere is delightful and as an example of the height of MGM’s musical comedy era it’s about as good a representation of the form as possible—I like Singin’ in the Rain a lot more, but there’s a difference between a solid example of the form and something that completely transcends it. The exemplar should not feel slighted for not being exceptional.