Marc Labrèche

  • Les États-Unis d’Albert (2005)

    Les États-Unis d’Albert (2005)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, January 2021) The log-line entry for Les États-Unis d’Albert talks about how a young man in 1920s Montréal leaves to seek fortune in Hollywood—the kind of plot premise that has me interested as a classic Hollywood fan, even more so considering that it’s for a French-Canadian film. What would it have to say? How would it portray the time considering the small budgets of most local films? As it turns out, writer-director André Forcier reaches his objectives by choosing whimsy over realism and never following its protagonist to his destination. Éric Bruneau stars as a young Montréal man who, upon meeting Mary Pickford’s aunt, an elderly drama teacher, vows to learn acting from her, gets a letter of recommendation and leaves by train across the continent. It’s a strangely cute film that gets weird very quickly, as the protagonist kisses his elderly mentor to death (it’s cuter in the film than as described, especially given how often her ghost comes back to provide advice) and meets quirky characters on his way to his destination, eventually landing in the southwestern desert for much of the film’s last half. The film is not ridiculous with its film references (the Pickford/Montréal connection is halfway plausible if you’re aware of Pickford’s Toronto-area origins), but it’s really an excuse for a whimsical character-driven comedy film with quirky supporting characters helping our dashing protagonist through various adventures. By the time there’s a desert, a boat on a telephone pole, a wife afraid of heights, a serial murderer, a philandering gold pro and MGM representatives sharing the same sandy setting, it’s clear that we’re just having fun with a comic style almost impossible to properly describe. As such, it works reasonably well: the budget is stretched beyond recognition, but the fun of the result speaks for itself even if it escapes easy categorization. Bruneau is likable in a handsome but generic way, while Andréa Ferréol has fun as a grande tragédienne beyond the grave, and so does Émilie Dequenne in a short role that could easily have sustained her own film. Veteran French-Canadian actors such as Marc Labrèche and Roy Dupuis pop up elsewhere in the film, adding to the charm of it. Les États-Unis d’Albert is absolutely not something to see to study the relationship between French-Canada and Hollywood, but it’s good fun on its own, very specific terms.

  • L’âge des ténèbres (2007)

    L’âge des ténèbres (2007)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, May 2020) There are movies that I probably should have seen earlier, and L’âge des ténèbres is one of them—a major French-Canadian movie, featuring a roster of circa-2007 working actors and with substantial science fiction plot elements tinged with dark comedy. It takes place in 2007’s near future with striking similarities to present-day 2020, what with technology-obsessed people and facemasks in schools and public transit. Its story revolves around a bureaucrat beset by middle-age ailments and escaping into reveries à la Walter Mitty. Denys Arcand is not subtle at all in presenting a non-stop carnival of modern problems and evidence of the fall of civilization—I normally wouldn’t be impressed by yet more suburban malaise, but there is something impressive and often hilarious in the completeness of Arcand’s vision. It gets funnier and funnier, as even the fantasies start turning against our protagonist. Lead actor Marc Labrèche is very good in the lead role, with a hangdog expression complementing an undeniable comic fluidity. Some of the background details are very good—although they may be lost on non-French-Canadian audiences, such as the dubious wisdom of setting up a government office in the Olympic stadium with its falling concrete beams (although this is alluded to). It’s fascinating that the protagonist would find an antithesis in incarnating fantasy to its fullest by going to a Renaissance Fair. Still, I’m not sure about the ending—I’d like to see at least once a film about midlife crisis that didn’t necessarily end with the protagonist quitting his job, trashing his car, leaving his marriage and ending up in a shack (admittedly one with a great view of the Saint Lawrence). Surely, there are ways to achieve a better synthesis of how to deal with modern ailments than to reject all of them. On a more serious note, L’âge des ténèbres is probably the movie that best represents (even with large discrepancies) the lowest point of my adult life around 40—fortunately, things are better now, and despite thinking that I should have seen it earlier, I’m actually happy that I’m seeing it today rather than a few years ago when I was in the thick of it.