Richard Pryor

  • I Am Richard Pryor (2019)

    I Am Richard Pryor (2019)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, April 2021) As someone who watched his movies as a 1980s kid, Richard Pryor was the likable goofball who was featured in Superman III and Brewster’s Millions, a kid-friendly comedian who got his laughs by mugging for the camera. That, to put it mildly, is a hilariously erroneous impression of Pryor, who had decades of experience as an edgy comedian before settling down for family-friendly fare. I Am Richard Prior chronicles the very different phases of his life, from clean-cut (and moustache-less) young comedian to his far more provocative period, beginning in the late 1960s and gradually fading away in the 1980s as he took on the family fare I watched as a kid. As you may expect, the film focuses far more on what he brought to American culture in his edgier phase, with album names I can’t even bring myself to write here, and a take-no-prisoners approach to stand-up that mixed incredibly personal material with an unwillingness to comfort audiences. Pryor was a model to an entire generation of later comedians, and the bits and pieces we hear throughout I Am Richard Prior are only the tip of a much funnier body of work. The not-so-different flip side of this public persona was Pryor’s messy personal history, from a sordid childhood to decades-long drug abuse, numerous marriages (although this aspect is not emphasized here, because his last wife, Jennifer Lee Pryor, also produced the film), many children to different mothers, one spectacular injury where he set himself on fire while freebasing cocaine and miscellaneous health problems, perhaps explaining his death from a third heart attack at 65. Compared to other “I am” documentary biopics from Network Entertainment, I Am Richard Pryor is far more honest about the flaws of its subject. I strongly suspect that this is due to the openness of the family and friends participating in the documentary — Pryor made no attempts to hide this part of his life even in public stand-up performances (to the point of joking about setting himself on fire), so it’s not as if there are any lesser-known incidents to leave undisturbed. Jennifer Lee Pryor is unabashedly frank (and often hilarious) in discussing her deceased husband’s issues, which does help round out his portrait. It does amount to a pretty good overview of an interesting person, and one that does not shy away from his less admirable traits. The only remaining warning about I Am Richard Pryor is that a little bit of Pryor’s comedy is liable to make you seek out the rest of his work, and there’s a lot of it.

  • Wild in the Streets (1968)

    Wild in the Streets (1968)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2020) You can often learn more about an era by looking at its middle-grade genre movies than its masterpieces: the id is closer to the surface, and the lack of even trying for timeless relevance can ground the work into the obsessions of the moments. So it is that American Pictures International’s B-grade Wild in the Streets spins one simple but mind-boggling statistic—that in the late 1960s, “52% of the US population was under 25”—into a wild satirical comedy in which a lowering of the voting age leads to the youth taking power. [Note: According to the data I could find, the share of the under-25 as a percentage of the total US population peaked at 45.8 in 1967, with the median age of the US population at an all-time low in 1970 at 28.1 years—in other words, take the film’s central statistic with a grain of salt.] It’s a film that starts out crazy with a capsule demonstration of a rotten family situation, and then wilder and wilder until the end. Clearly made to court the youth audiences, Wild in the Streets is unabashedly crammed with musical numbers, teenage heartthrobs and pointed barbs at older people: Christopher Jones is compelling in the lead role of a teenage rock superstar turned president of the United States, Shelley Winters is thoroughly detestable as the protagonist’s abusive mother, while Hal Holbrook is a likable actor in an ingrate role as a politician (also abusive toward his kids) who gets swept by the youth wave—and Richard Pryor has a small role as a teenage activist! Music is a big part of the film, and for good reason — “14 or Fight” is insanely catchy, far more than the film’s lead anthem “The Shape of Things to Come.” Given the film’s outright satirical aims, it’s no surprise if it ends up taking a real issue (the drive to lower the voting age to 18 across the United States during the late-1960s) and pushing it to extremes. You’re really not supposed to take it seriously: By the film’s last third, anyone over 30 is pushed in mandatory retirement, and sent to re-education camps where they are kept docile with a permanent done of LSD. And then the pre-teen set takes aim at the “older” teenagers… but I’ve said too much. In reflecting a funhouse version of the youth movement that peaked in the alte-1960s, Wild in the Streets does remind us of the incredible demographic forces that were such a strong engine for change in the Sixties—something often buried deep under the headlines and news clips of the era. It does have a good sense of humour about itself (as the coda suggests, the teenagers aren’t getting away with anything here), a really good energy (as per its Academy Award nomination for Best Editing) and enough craziness to make the satire worthwhile. It’s surprisingly fun and teaches us quite a bit about 1968 without the dourness of the then-emerging New Hollywood.

  • Lady Sings the Blues (1972)

    Lady Sings the Blues (1972)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2020) One of the first musical biographies made by and for black audiences, Lady Sings the Blues still feels modern in how it treats its central character Billie Holliday—even as it does rely on the classical musical biography elements of tough childhoods, early discrimination and mid-career substance addiction. Diana Ross is impressive as Holliday, while surrounded by good actors such as Billy Dee Williams and an early non-comic (and non-moustached) performance from Richard Pryor. The music is quite good if you’re into early jazz (although there’s some anachronistic material there), and the atmosphere of early black music performances is evocative—even as Holliday goes out on tour with a white band. I gather that it’s not faithful at all to Holliday’s life, but this all blurs with distance and doesn’t stop the film from standing up on its own. Lady Sings the Blues hasn’t aged as much as similar film of the time because it’s anchored in solid (if familiar) material, and treats its characters with modern sensibilities. One wonders about how the then-popular blaxploitation genre paved the way for this specific biography.

    (Second Viewing, On Cable TV, May 2021) I have a feeling I’d like Lady Sings the Blues far more had I seen it in theatres in 1972 rather than fifty years later. It’s not that it’s a bad film – but what was new and interesting about it in 1972 – the grittiness, the denunciation of racism, the dramatic arc of a self-destructive singer, Diana Ross‘ performance from as Billie Holiday – all feels obvious, maybe even perfunctory today. Lady Sings the Blues follows a now-obvious dramatic arc for musical biopics. While there’s little bad to say about Ross, or the able supporting performance from Billy Dee Williams (in his pre Lando Calrissian days, another “less impressive now than in 1972” thing), the film itself feels intensely familiar today. I’ll note for the record that we’re not necessarily any better than audiences in 1972 – contemporary reviews also noted the clichés, so they feel even more striking after fifty more years of repetition. But it does make Lady Sings the Blues feel more generic than it should, and the ultimate proof of that would be that it took until I logged the film in my notes that I realized that I had already seen it less than a year ago. Now that’s embarrassing.

  • See No Evil, Hear No Evil (1989)

    See No Evil, Hear No Evil (1989)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2020) Gene Wilder and Richard Pryor made four movies together, and while the place of Silver Streak at the top of the list and Another You at the bottom are not up for debate, there’s some jockeying as to whether Stir Crazy or See No Evil, Hear No Evil gets the silver or the bronze. It certainly has the highest comic concept, as one protagonist can’t hear and the other can’t see—yet they must team up to resolve a murder. Considering that it’s a film that depends on exaggerated depiction of disability as a comic engine, it’s now inevitably divisive. The natural charm of Pryor and Wilder does work overtime to keep audiences sympathetic, but it doesn’t always work—the depiction of deafness is a major irritant. Still, See No Evil, Hear No Evil is amiable even when it’s not particularly funny, and the late-1980s depiction of New York City can be fun. Bonus points for a very early villainous appearance from a young (but not younger-looking) Kevin Spacey. In the end, Stir Crazy is probably still a bit better—although let’s not pretend that some of Pryor and Wilder’s moment-to-moment work here is anything short of comic genius.

  • Harlem Nights (1989)

    Harlem Nights (1989)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, March 2020) Much maligned upon release as a vanity project for Eddie Murphy to become a writer-director, Harlem Nights is far from being an unimpeachable film… but it does have a few strengths. The recreation of 1930s Harlem as a playground for Murphy and co-star Richard Pryor has its good moments, and you simply can’t deny the interplay between both stars. There’s something to be said for Murphy having the clout to tell an expensive historical black-themed story at a time when such projects were rare, and you can see in Harlem Nights the bare bones of a much stronger project. But the entire thing generally deflates in-between the highlights. Part of the problem is Murphy falling back on familiar crutches the moment the project starts threatening to become too big for him—the braying laugh, the cheap jokes, the stand-up-inspired dialogue. It prevents Harlem Nights from becoming its own creation—a co-writer (or another director) would have done this film a world of good. Still, don’t believe those who maintain, long after the need to keep Murphy’s then-rampaging ego in check, that the film is ridiculous or worthless. It’s disappointing and evocative of a much better movie, for sure, but it’s still worth a look if you’re a fan of either stars, many of the surprisingly impressive supporting actors, or the trajectory of black cinema in the 1980s.

  • Car Wash (1976)

    Car Wash (1976)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, February 2020) Instantly dated yet curiously timeless, Car Wash is the kind of comedy that takes you back to a day in mid-1970s Los Angeles to hang out with a bunch of eccentric characters clustered around a… car wash. It’s very literally a day-in-the-life film, as it follows an ensemble cast from morning to evening as they wash cars, play out their own dramas, meet interesting clients, and josh each other like employees in the trenches do. The soundtrack is really good (having an earworm of a theme song certainly helps), and while much of the cast is made of now-unknowns, the exceptions are certainly remarkable: seeing George Carlin, Richard Pryor and the Pointer Sisters in the same film is certainly worth it—and fortunately, this is exactly the kind of film that deserves the video credits it has at the end. Car Wash is not a film of big ideas (although there’s a recurring theme of class solidarity that punctuates it all) but of small moments, and that’s quite meaningful by itself. The sense of ersatz community is very strong here. Part of the reason why the film has aged very well, despite taking up things like a largely black cast and a flamboyant homosexual character, is that it’s written in such a way that everyone comes across in a sympathetic fashion, even if they’re marginalized. (And for all of us Joel Shumacher skeptics, he’s the one responsible for the script.) The sympathy-for-the-underdog thing supports a great atmosphere, good comic gags and moments that are occasionally silly but still meaningful and heartfelt. Car Wash is both a film that could only have come from 1970s Hollywood, and a film that has aged far better than many of its contemporaries. Comedy, respect, meaning—you can always go far with those three elements.

  • The Wiz (1978)

    The Wiz (1978)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2019) The 1970s were a dark, sad decade for movie musicals, and The Wiz does nothing to change my mind about it. This musical remake of The Wizard of Oz uses black actors and a modern-day urban setting, but seems determined to waste both its premise and its potential. There was a lot of it to start with, what with a cast that starts with Diana Ross and then goes on to Richard Pryor and Michael Jackson. The surprisingly slow start sets the tone for the disappointment to come, what with Ross looking far too old to play a teenager, and a film that appears determined to suppress any of her natural sex appeal. It gets better once she starts to sing, but not all that much. Michael Jackson fares much better in what is probably his finest screen role, nearly unrecognizable as the Scarecrow, but with his very distinctive voice shining through. Meanwhile, Pryor is in-keeping with the impact of the movie, a disappointment as the Wizard that undermines even an already-undermined character. As a clone of its original inspiration, The Wiz isn’t all that good: Occasionally too scary for kids, far too dull for adults, it also takes many of the original film’s most satisfying (but not necessarily the most realistic) plot points and blurs them into meaninglessness. The production design can be imaginative and ambitious at times, but it’s not successful at what it does. The ending is exceptionally disappointing, running three musical numbers too long and delving into cheap pop philosophy to overstate what was perfectly obvious in the original. The only musical number that works, both on a musical level and a narrative one is the insanely catchy “Ease on Down”, which is worth saving from the rest of this overlong misfire. Reading about the film’s complicated production history is instructive in understanding why it ended up being so disappointing, but this is the result we’re stuck with. (Even Xanadu was more fun than this, if not necessarily more coherent or less dated to the disco era.) Alas, the damage done by The Wiz didn’t stop at the movie itself or its audience: Historically, this film was a notorious flop in every way, and is seen as having led to the end of the era for black-focused films as reinvigorated by the blaxploitation movement. If that’s correct, The Wiz has a lot more to answer for than for wasting more than two hours of everyone’s time even forty years later. (Minus five minutes for “Ease on Down”, because it’s that good.)

  • Silver Streak (1976)

    Silver Streak (1976)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, January 2019) There are some classical comedy pairings out there, and the Gene Wilder/Richard Pryor was one of them—while they made four movies together, the last one was reportedly a dud, and only the first two are acknowledged hits. Silver Streak is the first of their four movies, and it’s still a good watch today, even as it reflects another time. This blend of comedy and thrills features Wilder as a meek book editor travelling by train from Los Angeles to Chicago. Of course, stuff happens and before long he’s trying to piece together a murder mystery in between being thrown off the train and collaborating with a petty criminal to get back on it. Despite Pryor and Wilder’s comic chemistry (only they could make the blackface sequence work without being offensive) and the lighthearted nature of the film, Silver Streak arguably works better as a semi-Hitchockian thriller. The structure of the film itself is amusing: as we settle down for a comfortable train-bound mystery, our protagonist spends as much time off the train than on it, and Pryor joins the movie only midway through. Obviously shot in Canada (as per the train livery), it’s a comedy with some impressive physical action staging along the way, all the way to its destructive climax. Wilder’s quirky charm works well in grounding the film, allowing Pryor to get away with more outrageous dialogue. While Silver Streak is not quite polished (in a way so typical of mid-1970s production) and occasionally feels scattered between different genres, it pulls itself together in time for the finale and leaves viewers happy for having seen it.

  • The Toy (1982)

    The Toy (1982)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, December 2018) There is a sharp racial edge to the premise of The Toy—the idea that a black man can be essentially bought by a rich white boy to act as his plaything. It completely fits within Richard Pryor’s comic persona, as well as the irreverent nature of early-1980s comedy. (I’m not sure the same movie could be made today.) Still, what matters in a movie is the execution, and that’s where The Toy loses a lot of its lustre—once given the basic elements, much of the script feels far too familiar to be interesting. Of course the boy needs a friend; of course, the protagonist won’t ultimately lose his integrity; of course, they’ll actually befriend each other.) Further compounding the problem is the often-juvenile nature of the screenplay—it’s fine to have a largely kid-driven film with an adult premise, but when the script’s most interesting elements are sidelined for kiddie goofiness, we’re left to wonder who’s the film real audience. I suspect that some of the film’s disappointment comes from adapting a French film to an American context (with a very different take on the issue of, well, slavery), and not necessarily knowing how to play those elements. At least we do get to have Pryor and Jackie Gleason go head-to-head in comic scenes. Still, The Toy feels like a disappointment, disjointed and not quite able to use everything at its disposal for a coherent result.

  • Stir Crazy (1980)

    Stir Crazy (1980)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, April 2018) Gene Wilder was a fantastic comedian, and his presence elevated many of the otherwise unremarkable movies he starred in. Stir Crazy is, on many levels, a rather average film—two down-on-their-luck protagonists being jailed on some spurious charges and working their way out of there. But throw in Wilder and Richard Pryor in the lead roles and the film becomes much better than it feels on paper. Never mind the plot and how it ends up with prisoners entering a mechanical bull riding competition (!) when there’s Wilder’s character going in solitary confinement and emerging as serene as a man having come in touch with himself can be. Those moments, far more than the forgettable plot, are what sticks in mind after watching Stir Crazy. There is some similarity in tone here with the original The Longest Yard—kind of an underdogs-and-outlaws-are-cool outlook to unify otherwise very different films. Otherwise, there really isn’t much here to stick in mind, as pleasant as the film can be.

  • Brewster’s Millions (1985)

    Brewster’s Millions (1985)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, February 2018) Back when I grew up, my TV universe was limited to about half a dozen channels, most of which I couldn’t understand very well due to my lack of familiarity with English. So my childhood culture pretty much depended on the whims of those three French TV networks, and it so happens that Brewster’s Millions was a favourite of theirs. I must have watched it two or three times before I was 15. I still remember bits and pieces of the film in French, which made a contemporary re-watch feel really weird (especially one line which doesn’t sound too bad in French, but whose original version is unprintable on a G-rated web site). Fortunately, Richard Pryor sounds much better than his assigned French dubbed voice, and revisiting Brewster’s Millions in English was more pleasant than I expected. The premise alone is still rich in possibilities: An inheritance game in which the protagonist must voluntarily blow through thirty million dollars in thirty days. It’s harder than it looks, though, and the film’s best moments are those in which sure-fired money-losing plans backfire, and make things even harder. Otherwise, Pryor clowns around with John Candy, flirts with the lovely Lonette McKee and indulges in a lavish series of fantasies by wasting as much money as possible. It’s not, frankly, that good a movie: it’s slight, doesn’t really touch upon challenging social issues the way some of Pryor’s work as a comedian did, and the entire plot is an exercise in contrived situations. Still, I had a good time revisiting Brewster’s Million, and it remains a mildly entertaining evening watch. It may be ripe for a remake, though…

  • Superman III (1983)

    Superman III (1983)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Third viewing, On Cable TV, June 2017) Aw, yes, Superman III. I know what the reviewers say, and yet you will never be able to convince me that it’s a movie that I should not enjoy. Keep in mind that I didn’t have cable TV when I was a kid … but one of my aunts did, and I was amazed, while visiting back in 1984, to see Superman III show up on a TV screen years before it would be broadcast on network channels. Also keep in mind that Superman III spends a lot of time talking about computers, something that fascinated me then and still interests me now. Never mind that it’s a comedy with seriously dumb ideas about technology: it’s still a lovely time capsule about how people saw computing as magic back then. Then there are the sequences: Superman turning evil and going full-shmuck! Superman fighting himself in a junk yard, wow! Superman going against a supercomputer with a vat of acid! Nine-year-old me was amazed back then, and forty-one-year old me is still charmed right now by the whole thing. I’ll acknowledge that the film is deeply flawed. Putting Richard Pryor in the movie is good for an atypical hacker character, but the various attempts to force comedy out of the film (the ski jump scene and the videogame being the worst) often seem jarringly out of place. The Superman-versus-Superman stuff is still quite good, though, the return-to-Smallville subplot works well, and I enjoyed the funhouse depiction of magical computers far more than I thought. While Gene Hackman’s Lex Luthor is sorely missed, I did not mind at all Lois Lane’s amusing cameo—and rather liked Annette O’Toole as Lana Lang. Christopher Reeves, as usual, is near-perfect as both Clark Kent and Superman. Heck, I even liked the opening slapstick credit sequence. In other words, you may argue forever that Superman III is a bad movie and I won’t dispute the point much. But it’s a bad movie that I like a lot, and there’s no disputing that either.