Patrick Huard

  • Nez Rouge (2003)

    Nez Rouge (2003)

    (On Cable TV, December 2020) One of Québec’s most charming cultural institutions is the Nez Rouge car escorting service, in which inebriated partygoers can call and have a volunteer drive them home in the weeks prior to Christmas. Nominally free (but usually considered a charity service), it’s a near-fixture in French Canada during the first half of December – and you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone with something bad to say about it. In other words – a perfect crowd-pleasing backdrop for a mainstream Christmas romantic comedy. In Nez Rouge, Patrick Huard stars as a literary critic and Michèle-Barbara Pelletier as an author he has harshly criticized: Over the course of the Nez Rouge season, their antagonism becomes something far more romantic. Directed in straightforward fashion by Érik Canuel, Nez Rouge isn’t particularly good, but it scratches the kind of “it’s December, let’s see a homegrown Christmas movie!” impulse that grabs theatre owners, TV programmers and French-Canadian audiences alike.

  • Filière 13 (2010)

    Filière 13 (2010)

    (On TV, October 2020) French-Canadian cinema has an addiction to cop comedies, explained by their relatively low costs, high audience appeal and ease of execution when many French-Canadian actors have a comedy background. There’s usually one every year or so, which is a lot considering that barely a dozen French-Canadian movies ever get high-profile releases. Just have the characters run around Montréal in goofy situations interspaced with stunts or gunplay and you’ve got enough to get audiences in theatres. But not all of them are equally successful, and Filière 13 is a far cry from such successes as Bon Cop Bad Cop or De Père en Flic: While helmed by veteran actor Patrick Huard, this mixture of police action and comedy feels like an awkward mashup rather than a truly satisfying hybrid. The issues start with the script, which can’t quite figure out what story it’s telling: the film starts by showing us three policemen with serious mental health issues (headaches, heartache, and panic attacks), then sidelines two of them in a meaningless stakeout, while the third one gets increasingly stalkerish in his behaviour toward his ex-wife. But everything feels like a subplot until the stakeout characters go for full police overreach and fixate their sights on a white-collar criminal—at which point the real plot of the film kicks in midway through –and even then, in ways that aren’t fully satisfying: The cowboy cop trope is overused to the point of making us care less and less about the characters skirting the edge of sociopathic behaviour. Whatever effective treatment of mental health issues is sidelined in favour of reprehensible behaviour and strikingly unpleasant comic set-pieces: there’s a homophobic sequence here that would have been offensive and out-of-touch even a decade earlier, and the comedic aspect of it (which could have worked in other circumstances) is made worse by what is supposed to be a serious character’s reaction to it. Women don’t get plum roles in Filière 13, with nearly all of them being portrayed as sources of conflicts, and the remaining one played by Anik Jean, being cute to the point of unbelievability. Still, the men don’t do any better: Claude Legault, Guillaume Lemay-Thivierge and Paul Doucet have intriguing characters that are then completely steamrolled by the script. Even André Sauvé (no relation) is a bit of a drawback as a psychologist written so broadly as to be unlikable. In other words, Filière 13 seems to ape a better movie’s building blocks without quite knowing how to put them together—in doing so, it actively manages to do worse than following the usual formula. It’s no wonder it sank without a trace: there have been much better examples of the form before and after.

  • Les Boys IV (2005)

    Les Boys IV (2005)

    (On TV, August 2020) Considering how closely the Les Boys series aligned itself with a certain stereotypical depiction of French-Canadian males, it was almost inevitable that sooner or later, it would pick up that other big French-Canadian tradition: the fishing trip up north. After the usual 45-minute throat clearing so characteristic to the ensemble nature of the film series, this fourth instalment finally picks up its own identity when it becomes clear to the coach that his dysfunctional team needs a deep-woods retreat to patch itself. Most of the film’s middle section fuels its comedy by taking up the clichés of an expedition gone wrong, fit to the ongoing characters. It’s watchable without being particularly better than expected. Directed by George Mihalka rather than Louis Saïa (who helmed the first three films), this one has occasional moments of more intense cinematography, and some not-so-subtle touches (such as the camera lingering on hockey tape as the team psychologically gets back together). Most of the cast is back, although Patrick Huard’s character is hilariously depicted as being bandaged up and so unable to speak. The soundtrack is far less remarkable without Éric Lapointe’s involvement, and the episodic nature of the characters gets more and more obvious – the series would become a five-season TV show two years later. Still, as a wrap-up to the mainline series, it’s not too bad, and it certainly cannot be blamed for delivering exactly what fans were expecting.

  • Mommy (2014)

    Mommy (2014)

    (In French, On Cable TV, July 2020) Any look at Xavier Dolan’s filmography has Mommy near the top of his critical notices and while the film is flawed, it does have some undeniable strengths. After a clumsy opening text that could have been handled in two or three lines of dialogue, we’re off to the races: A mother/son relationship (in keeping with Dolan’s obsessions) featuring a deeply aggressive young man kicked out of a specialized school and coming home to make life hell for his mom. If you’re looking for a nice, fun, comforting film, this isn’t it: there are a few scenes here that are excruciating to watch, and Mommy makes a bold bet in making a main character out of an irremediably despicable young man. The conclusion is forgone, and the way to get there is just as difficult. Dolan’s artistic choices are sometimes questionable—such as filming in 1 × 1 aspect ratio and justifying it as “intimate” when generations of filmmakers have presented domestic dramas in more standard formats. Anne Dorval is terrific as the titular mommy, while Antoine Olivier Pilon is perhaps too good as the hateful son. Also remarkable is Patrick Huard in a markedly more serious and less admirable role as usual. Mommy is certainly not easy to watch nor perfect, but there are a handful of scenes with tremendous dramatic intensity, and it’s executed better than usual.

  • Bon Cop Bad Cop 2 (2017)

    Bon Cop Bad Cop 2 (2017)

    (On Cable TV, February 2018) I had reasonably high hopes for this sequel to the 2009 bilingual thriller Bon Cop Bad Cop. The original was a clever look at Canada’s two linguistic communities, straddling language and culture in the service of a comic thriller. This sequel manages to get both Patrick Huard and Colm Feore to reprise their roles (no mean feat, given both actors’ busy schedules) but seems to forget much of what made the original work so well. The theme of the original film, so cleanly focused on French/English relationships, was clear and compelling—the sequel, alas, muddles along with a half-hearted look south of the border. Taking the plot to the United States is a logical step forward, but some of the America-bashing does get cheap and tiresome. The character work is fine in theory, except that we don’t particularly care about many of the secondary characters, and the film has the bad idea of giving a terminal illness to one of its protagonists, leading to one good death-wish scene but a whole lot of cumbersome emotional baggage to the film’s conclusion (not to mention a possible third film). Bon Cop Bad Cop 2 also falls prey to the easy lure of police brutality—it’s hard to cheer for nominally sympathetic and comic protagonists when they start manhandling and torturing suspects. Too long for its own good, Bon Cop Bad Cop 2 ends up feeling like a chore rather than a fun film … and given that the point of it is a fun film, the disappointment is palpable. I still like much of the film—Huard and Feore are likable, Mariana Mazza makes a remarkable (but almost overdone) appearance as a hyperactive computer specialist and some of the stunts are spectacular enough. But there is a lot of untapped or misplaced potential in the film’s execution as it loses its way, sabotages some of its own goodwill and ends up on a less than fully satisfying note.

  • Omertà (2012)

    Omertà (2012)

    (In French, On Cable TV, October 2013) I have fond memories of the original “Omertà” TV series that was broadcast back in 1996: A muscular police thriller set against the backdrop of Montréal’s organized crime, it put Michel Côté on the map, brought Hollywood-like production values to Québec TV and showed that home-grown entertainment could be remarkably enjoyable.  Omertà-the-movie obviously banks on name recognition, as it purports to follow Michel Côté’s character more than a decade after the conclusion of the third series.  The links between TV series and film aren’t thicker than two common characters, though: much of the rest is original, so that viewers without any knowledge of the series won’t miss much.  What follows is a tangled, even opaque, mess of double-agents, organized crime figures, corrupt law-and-order representatives and the occasional victim.  It’s not uninteresting (even featuring a daring death midway through) and filmmaker Luc Dionne’s work is generally solid… but the script leads to a big so-what of an inconclusive ending that doesn’t show bravery as much as it elicits frustration.  While the film has its moments, it seems to lead nowhere, and mishandle its own strengths.  As Québec’s “big movie” of 2012, it offers the usual casting gags and fixtures: Michel Côté and Patrick Huard are omnipresent on the French-Canadian big screen for good reasons, while comedian Stéphane Rousseau is a revelation as a villain (sadly, his characters is repeatedly qualified as a psycho without much on-screen confirmation, and his exit is a big disappointment) while husband/manager-of-Céline-Dion René Angelil as a mob boss is just… funny.  Alas, Rachelle Lefebvre is far less interesting than she should have been in her role.  While Omertà is a decent piece of filmmaking, it’s not quite the slick crowd-pleaser that it aimed to be.  It may be worthwhile to revisit the TV series, though, and I’m still interested in whatever Luc Dionne wants to work on next.

  • Funkytown (2011)

    Funkytown (2011)

    (On DVD, July 2011) I should begin by saying that I’m less impartial toward this film than most, having put together a web site for director Daniel Roby’s first feature film a few years ago.  But even then, it’s hard not to be impressed by the scope of Funkytown, which looks at the late-seventies disco scene in Montréal through a large ensemble cast.  The first few minutes are electrifying, as the characters are introduced within a fluid sequence.  Patrick Huard headlines the film as an influential media personality whose decline forms the backbone of the film’s dramatic arc.  Period music is used effectively, and the period is rendered in its glorious brown-and-gold glory.  Not stopping at disco, Funkytown also dares to tackle the socio-political turmoil of the era (which would see the center of Canadian power shift from Montréal to Toronto as separatism led to an exodus of well-off decision-makers from one city to the other) and the rise of AIDS within the gay community.  Loosely inspired by real events (look up the story of Alain Montpetit and Douglas Leopold for reference), Funkytown has enough plot to stuff an entire TV show season as seven or eight main characters jostle for attention.  Screenwriter Steve Galluccio is able to keep everything intelligible, but the story cries out for a novel or a longer-form format, especially toward the end as subplots seem to be cut short.  There’s still a decent amount of subtlety and depth to the end result, and the film’s soundtrack alone is worth a look.  (Never mind the slight anachronisms, though.)  The way both English and French dialogues are used, often in the same conversation, feels authentically Montréal-style.  As one of the bigger-budgeted films in Quebec history, Funkytown has a decent dramatic heft and feels like a reasonably faithful look at the era.  It’s a joy to watch even despite its downbeat dramatic trajectory, and will probably rank as a definitive piece for the era.