Pierre Morel – Christian Sauvé

Peppermint (2018)

ByChristian Sauvé 2019-05-142023-03-19 Movie Review

(On Cable TV, May 2019) In the spirit of gender equality, let’s agree not to give a free pass to gender-swapped bad movies such as Peppermint, taking on a hackneyed tale of vigilante violence that was tiresome when it was called Death Wish and only making it distinctive by putting Jennifer Garner in the lead role. Now, I’ll be among the last to complain about Garner getting steady work, and I will admit that her performance here is as ferocious and convincing as any other female actress. But there’s no getting around the idea that Peppermint is a terrible premise wrapped in even worse execution: If you can make it past the overwrought first fifteen minutes (in which an ordinary mom sees her family gunned down, then the murderer set free by a corrupt judge and herself committed to a mental asylum) without rolling your eyes helplessly, well, you may be ready for the rest of the film in which that ordinary mom resurfaces five years later after a self-imposed worldwide combat training tour. Her rampage of revenge is as predictable as it is tedious—we know where it’s going, and not even director Pierre Morel’s journeyman direction can dissipate the stone-cold ennui of seeing that same damn story play out once more. The film, as befits our morally corrupt social-media era, is not conflicted as much as it’s tacitly approving of the violence perpetrated by its so-called heroic character—there’s little exploration of the corruption of the heroine and quite a bit of cheering for revenge, and hopefully nobody innocent gets killed in the crossfire. As you can guess, I’m getting really tired of those kinds of dress-up medium-budget exploitation movies, no matter the gender flip. In fact, the gender flip may even make it worse—there’s a lot of material to explore in traditional nurturing notions of female strength being sent up through vigilante violence, but Peppermint can barely conceive of such an argument, much less explore it. What a waste. At least Garner should be able to get herself a few action movie roles now that she’s got Peppermint on her resume, not exactly erasing Elektra’s shame as much as updating it.

Movie Review

From Paris With Love (2010)

ByChristian Sauvé 2010-02-052010-03-23 Movie Review

(In theatres, February 2010) Action comedies are tough to screw up, but leave it to Luc Besson to do his best. Besson’s not know for his subtlety, after all, and whenever he starts writing scripts, one can expect the worst. At first glance, From Paris With Love seems idiot-proof: Match a young bookish secret agent (Jonathan Rhys-Meyer) with a older, wilder operative (John Travolta), add a little bit of terrorism, shoot up everything in Paris and voilà. For a while, it even works: it doesn’t matter if the plot makes no sense from the start: This is an action comedy, and it’s not supposed to. As Travolta grins shoots his way through restaurants without a single care for consequences, it’s almost fun. The occasional meaningless drug interlude aside, From Paris With Love starts as a competent B-grade action buddy comedy. Director Pierre Morel does fine with the action sequences. The film is nothing spectacular, nothing particularly achieved, but well enough to pass the time. But then, and it’s hard to be specific without spoilers, the film truly sours once the third act gets underway: Suddenly, a big pile of drama lands into the film, and no one seems to know what to do with it: it breaks the flow, and sends the plot in another direction. That direction ends up more problematic than anyone could expect, as it lays bare the film’s overall misogyny and makes a repulsive mess out of the conclusion. By the time our two protagonists are back on the airport tarmac laughing and comparing the size of their guns (this isn’t a metaphor, but it could be), it’s hard to avoid thinking that something has gone horribly wrong in the writing stages. From Paris With Love wishes it could get away with just being a forgettable entry in the action/comedy sub-genre. Instead, it’s saddled with elements that go out of its core mission, and a remarkably obnoxious attitude towards women. Can someone stop Besson from writing without adult supervision ever again?