Ron Howard

  • Hillbilly Elegy (2020)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Netflix Streaming, November 2021) On the one hand, Hillbilly Elegy does have the merit of looking at some of the most marginalized people in America — the white lower-class of semirural Midwestern America, usually the butt of jokes and derision by the cultural establishment. Of course, the story doesn’t quite commit to the nobility of such people — the viewpoint character of the film (adapted from an autobiography) is that of a young man who managed to get out of there and become a more socially respected East coast prestige-firm lawyer. (Whether that’s better than, say, a lawyer working in a small Midwestern town to help his fellow citizen is not a debate that the film is interested in having.)  The film switches between him dealing with the latest family crisis in the middle of job interviews, and flashbacks to his younger years dealing with members of his family. Amazingly, I’ve made it this far in the review without mentioning the film’s two showiest assets: Amy Adams as a volatile heroin-addicted mother, and Glenn Close as an elderly crusty no-nonsense grandmother who ends up being the closest thing to what this film has to a hero. Both are willing to shed their glamour for the role, but there’s a freak-show element to their turn — more impression than inhabitation in keeping with the film’s gawking attitude. Director Ron Howard does a workmanlike job here, typically adapting his style to the demands of the script, but not necessarily doing anything to change the base story’s most troubling elements, and consciously giving in to the requirements of showcasing Adams and Close as much as possible. Hillbilly Elegy would have been a very, very different film had it been made at a lower budget with a cast of unknowns rather than shouting from its prestige perch how brave and bold it is in stooping down to that level and giving bad haircuts to its stars. The result uncomfortably brings to mind some of the weirdest misfires of Classic Hollywood, in which you’d see major stars get under makeup to play some impoverished “other,” but all the time hogging the spotlight to themselves. At least there’s Freida Pinto: wasted in nothing more than a supportive girlfriend role, but still likable no matter the role or the film. In the end, Hillbilly Elegy remains a weird movie, superficially inspiring and intense, and yet paternalizing and overly familiar at once. [November 2024: And now Hillbilly Elegy is the villain origin story for the vice-president of the United States? What just happened here?]

  • Far and Away (1992)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, August 2021) There’s something ever so slightly… off in Far and Away. Oh, the building blocks of the film are strong: The Irish immigrant experience as seen from a belligerently romantic couple made of a plucky lad and an upper-class woman, climaxing in the very cinematic Oklahoma land rush. It’s a throwback to a successful Hollywood formula, a good framework on which to hang a straightforward narrative and strong visuals. But in practice, as handled by director Ron Howard and co-starring Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman, Far and Away ends up feeling derivative and disjointed, a pale copy of better epics. The humour is slightly too strong and overpowering, with the romance displacing potentially more interesting material. It still works — Howard is an efficient director, Kidman looks magnificent, and I haven’t yet seen an Oklahoma land rush sequence that I haven’t liked yet. But the lavish recreation is undermined by a then-contemporary take that is now starting to sound dated. Watching the film in French fortunately spared me from the apparently strange accents of the original, but otherwise couldn’t quite fix other nagging issues with Far and Away.

  • CNN’s The Movies (2019)

    CNN’s The Movies (2019)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, July-August 2019) As someone who’s working on a book-length film history organized by decades, I had more than a passing interest in seeing how CNN would approach the topic in its flagship documentary production The Movies. Well, it turns out that they divided the topic in six 90-minute specials: Pre-1960, 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, 1990s and 2000+. The decades are obviously chosen to make CNN’s target audience happy, compressing the earlier and later decades in looser groupings. I was a bit disappointed to see both the 2000s and 2010s lumped together, but that does reflect what I’ve been finding in my own attempt to categorize the decades: The 2000s were a fairly dull period in terms of cinematic evolution, whereas I suspect that the dramatic changes of the 2010s (studios focusing exclusively on spectacles, malleable digital reality, the rise of streaming) do not mesh well with the golden-hued nostalgic atmosphere that CNN aimed for. I’m less critical of the lumping of 1910–1959 together for a broadcast aimed at general audiences — I think it’s a fascinating period and that episode of the show did a really good job at pointing out the stars of the time, but I can see why most viewers wouldn’t care for more. I have more serious issues with the overall structure of the 1960s and 1970s shows — I think that the New Hollywood period and its counter-reaction were not sufficiently highlighted, but that may just be me. This being said, The Movies is not a documentary series with a strong structure: within each episode, we get 2–4 minutes segment meant to illustrate various trends and genres within that period, focus on beloved movies, or talk about specific actors. As you’d expect, almost all of the series’ material is either made of clips from the movies or talking heads footage—sometimes historical—featuring actors, directors, film critics and historians (including Drew McWeeney!) discussing the topics at hand. There is no overriding narration nor much in terms of interstitial material, further contributing to the series’ lack of structure. The series is obviously very proud of the people it managed to interview: Predictably, it often focused on superstar actors (Tom Hanks, Julia Roberts, etc.) and directors (Spielberg, Howard) — The actors often come across as mere big-name fans with only superficial contributions (unless they’re talking about acting, in which case they have a few interesting insights), while the directors are reliably more interesting. The critics and historians usually do the heavy work of pulling together the material into coherent mini-theses. The excerpts are chosen well and usually hit the high points of the movies that should be discussed in each decade. It amounts to a series that works as intended — I can certainly argue against some choices, but this is meant as a generalist overview of a century of film and as such is rarely boring. The total length of The Movies is roughly nine hours, and as a quick course on Hollywood movies it’s actually not too bad.

  • Splash (1984)

    Splash (1984)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, April 2019) I know that a lot of people remember Splash fondly—on a surface level, what’s not to love? Perennial 1980s comedy young beau Tom Hanks falling in love with a Mermaid played by Daryl Hannah: isn’t that enough to many anyone happy? There’s a strong fairy-tale component to the result (despite a few moments with heightened threats) and it’s best to approach the film as such. Unfortunately, there’s a point where Splash doesn’t have a lot to differentiate it from other fish-out-of-water comedies, with a script that seems obvious and by the numbers. Fortunately, the execution isn’t bad (this being one of Ron Howard’s first efforts as a director and arguably his first big commercial success) and you can’t really ignore the mermaid aspect that still makes Splash a memorable film. Hanks is slightly subdued compared to some of his other comedies of that time, Darryl Hannah is fine as the mermaid that named thousands of Madisons and there’s an interesting Canadian connection with supporting roles given to John Candy and Eugene Levy. Still, I have a hard time getting enthusiastic about it all—there’s not a whole lot to say: it seems as if we’ve seen everything in there a few times since then.

  • Cocoon (1985)

    Cocoon (1985)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Second Viewing, On Cable TV, January 2019) I remember seeing Cocoon as a kid, but considering the film’s themes of aging it’s very different to see it as a middle-aged adult. (There’s one shot in the film, in which “human skins” are discarded and thrown to the floor by the alien characters, that seriously freaked me out when I was younger.) Efficiently directed by Ron Howard, this is a clever blend of SF, romance and comedy as retirement-aged characters discover alien eggs and the rejuvenating effects of the pool in which they’re stored. Of course, the aliens are there for a reason and their minders have good reason to be concerned. The script cleanly moves between one mode to the other, gradually making its way to a sentimental action-driven finale. There’s a tremendous amount of irony and foreshadowing in Cocoon’s early lines, showing the craft in the script. This probably remains the best film in which Steve Gutenberg ever starred, although his acting simply can’t reassure up to the impressive elderly ensemble cast assembled in between Don Ameche, Wilford Brimley, Hume Cronyn, Jessica Tandy and others. Now that the baby boomers are taking over retirement homes, I expect the film to undergo a modest rediscovery as its themes of eternal youth directly addresses them. For younger viewers, Cocoon can occasionally be a meditation on growing old (and what people would do if there was an alternative), although it doesn’t forget to leaven the meditation with genre elements and comedy.

  • Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018)

    Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Netflix Streaming, January 2019) I watched Solo: A Star Wars Story very reluctantly. The shameless exploitation of the Star Wars universe by Disney has a clear endpoint of diminishing return, and the way the standalone movies have been calculated for mercenary impact is enough to leave a bad taste in everyone’s mouth. To put it bluntly, Solo is a useless, unneeded movie. Nobody was really asking for a young Han Solo film. Nobody needed another attempt to explain the most minute corners of the Star Wars universe in even-duller detail. Frankly, the result does rankle. It’s filled with huge coincidences, an annoying tendency to overexplain, the irritating urge to tie up everything and the introduction of new leitmotifs that smack of modern screenwriter handbooks more than organic storytelling. But of course, organic storytelling is the last thing that Disney wants, and much of the chatter prior to the film’s release had to do with the way the original team of directors—iconoclasts Chris Miller and Phil Lord—was fired and replaced by Ron Howard, who reportedly reshot Solo using a more conventional approach. It would be fascinating to see that first cut of the film (I’m not holding my breath), but the result does work as a straight-up adventure. The plot is serviceable, the actors in the main roles are generally fine (I may even come to like Emilia Clarke at some point in the future) and the secondary characters usually steal the show—with a special mention for gone-too-soon Thandie Newton’s character, Donald Glover as a perfect Lando Carlissian, Phoebe Waller-Bridge as the voice of L3-37 and Erin Kellyman as Enfys Nest. While Solo isn’t devoid of links to the rest of the Star Wars Universe, those are more interesting when they cover smaller touches (such as the embedding of L3-37 within the Falcon, or the dawn of the Rebellion) than providing an entire backstory to Han Solo. The film is far more interesting when it strikes out on its own away from the established Star Wars mythos than when it rehashes the same old thing. Han Solo often ends up being the least interesting thing about the movie dedicated to him, not helped along by Alden Ehrenreich’s bland take on the character. If there’s one good thing to come out of Solo’s relative lack of commercial success (considering expectations and a $275M budget, “merely” grossing $400M is not enough), it’s that The Mouse has finally understood the point of diminishing returns on its Star Wars cash grab and may start being more discriminate about future projects.

  • Gung Ho (1986)

    Gung Ho (1986)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, November 2018) No matter the era, America is always under siege. In the 1980s, even as détente was making the Soviets slightly less threatening, Americans discovered that the Japanese were going to outproduce everyone and buy everything. American industrial management were quick to obsess about Japanese production techniques: why was Toyota producing cars that were so much better than anything Detroit could turn out? 1986’s Gung Ho may not be a particularly well-known film these days despite being directed by Ron Howard, but it presents an impeccable take on the obsession of the time as a Japanese car company buys an American factory and starts imposing its methods. A significant culture clash ensues, spiced up by the fact that the American characters are being challenged to do better. Michael Keaton headlines the film with his usual charm, playing a foreman acting as the link between Japanese management and the American workers. Despite the obvious concessions to comedy, the film was reportedly used in Japan in order to understand how to manage American workers. The result is often more interesting as a time capsule than a conventional film—Howard directs unobtrusively, Keaton is his usual sympathetic self, Mimi Rogers shows up, a few more Howards (Clint and Rance) have supporting roles, and the film has a pleasant blue-collar atmosphere without being weighed down in the kind of dark drama that such mid-1980s setting usually accompanied. It’s watchable enough. A sequel, showing how American manufacturing adopted and adapted Japanese manufacturing techniques, would be sorely needed at the moment.

  • The Shootist (1976)

    The Shootist (1976)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, November 2017) One of the problems of approaching a movie education by going backwards in time is that you see the end before the beginning. You end up watching the revisionism before the classics that are being revisited, and actors at the end of their career paying homage to themselves at their prime. It usually makes sense in the end, but the first impressions can be strange. So it is that while I’m impressed by The Shootist’s approach to the last few days of a legendary gunman (John Wayne, in his final role), I can’t help but feel that I would have gotten far more out of the movie had I seen it after watching the dozens of essential westerns and John Wayne movies. Not only is The Shootist about a gunslinger counting down the days until cancer kills him, it’s explicitly about the end of the Far West as a distinct period—it takes place in a city where automobiles are starting to displace horses, water and electricity are changing the nature of living, and where civilization doesn’t have much use for killers, even righteous ones. The film explicitly ties itself to Wayne’s legacy by using clips from his previous movies as introduction to his character, and there’s an admirable finality to this being Wayne’s last role. I found myself curiously sympathetic to his gruff character, and easily swept along the plot even through (or given) I’m firmly in favour of modernity over the western. Other small highlights can be found in the film—Ron Howard plays a callow youth who learn better, Lauren Bacall looks amazing and there’s even Scatman Crothers in a minor role. Under Don Siegel’s direction, the atmosphere of a city entering the modern age is well done, and there’s a genuine melancholy both to the film and to Wayne himself as they contemplate the end of eras both social and personal. I’m not quite so fond of the specific way the film chooses to conclude, or the various action highlights that seem perfunctory as a way to alleviate what is essentially a contemplative film. But even as I head deeper in the Western genre, I think I’ve found its epilogue in The Shootist.

  • Apollo 13 (1995)

    Apollo 13 (1995)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Second viewing, On DVD, September 2017) I remember standing in line to watch this film on opening week, and being energized by the result. Decades later, Apollo 13 is still as good as it ever was—as a triumphant look at the American effort to land on the moon, it remains unequalled, and while the then-astonishing special effects have aged, they still hold up reasonably well—that launch sequence is still awe-inspiring. They may never be a movie about Apollo 11 because it went so well, but the Apollo 13 mission was a different story, and it’s through that fateful flight that we get a look at the astonishing achievement of the American space program. The historical details are immediately credible, and there’s much to be said about a film made in the nineties to reflect events that were then barely more than twenty years past—trying to recreate 1973 today would be more difficult and probably less authentic, without mentioning all the people who have since died and wouldn’t be there to provide their advice. Reportedly free of major inaccuracies, Apollo 13 can’t quite escape some artistic licensing issues, whether it’s leaden explanatory dialogue, scenes set up to discuss a thematic concern or the vastly overwrought climax played up for all it’s worth. Still, these are small concerns compared to the entire film—it remains one of director Ron Howard’s most successful films, and it features a cast of a half-dozen great actors, from Tom Hanks’ immediately sympathetic commander Jim Lovell to Kevin Bacon, Bill Paxton, Gary Sinise and one of Ed Harris’s career-best iconic performance as no-nonsense flight director Gene Kranz. Everything clicks together to make up that elusive movie magic, effective even when knowing exactly how everything will play out. It’s not meant to be subtle (the last-act passage in which NASA reflects that Apollo 13 will be remembered as one of their “finest moments” lays out what viewers are expected to take away from the film itself) but it’s remarkably effective. As a lapsed space buff, I can’t help but love Apollo 13, but I’m reasonably sure that it remains a great movie for everyone even today.

  • The Paper (1994)

    The Paper (1994)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Second viewing, On Cable TV, September 2017) I recall seeing The Paper on its opening week, happy (as a former high-school paper editor) to see a film where newspapermen were heroes. I kept a good memory of the result, but I was curious to see if it held up two decades later. Fortunately, The Paper remains almost a definitive statement on 1990s city journalism. Tightly compressed in not much more than 24 hours of action, The Paper follows a hectic day in the life of a newspaper editor juggling work, family and citywide tensions. Directed with a lot of nervous energy by Ron Howard, The Paper can boast of an astonishing cast. Other than a top-form Michael Keaton as a harried news editor, there’s Robert Duvall as a grizzled senior editor, Glenn Close as something of an antagonist, Marisa Tomei as a pregnant journalist desperate for a last bit of newsroom action, Randy Quaid as a rough-and-tough journalist … and so on, all the way to two of my favourite character actresses, Roma Maffia and Siobhan Fallon, in small roles. The dense and taut script by the Koepp brothers offers a fascinating glimpse at the inner working of a nineties NYC newspaper, bolstered by astonishing set design: That newsroom is a thing of beauty as the camera flies by and catches glimpses of dozens of other subplots running along the edges of the screen. You may even be reminded of how things used to work before the rise of the 24-hour Internet-fuelled news cycle. (Of all the things that the Internet has killed, “Stop the presses!” is an under-appreciated loss.)  The Paper is one of those solid, satisfying movies that don’t really revolutionize anything, but happen to execute their premise as well as they could, and ends up being a reference in time. I’m sad to report that by 2017, The Paper seems to have been largely forgotten—while I caught it on Cable TV, it rarely comes up in discussions, has a scant IMDB following, and is rarely mentioned while discussing the careers of the players involved. Too bad—with luck, it will endure as the kind of film you’re happy to discover by yourself. 

  • Inferno (2016)

    Inferno (2016)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Video on Demand, February 2016) With Inferno, Tom Hanks is back for a third largely indifferent time as Robert Langdon, one of his career’s most undistinguished roles. One can’t fault Hank for teaming up with Ron Howard in adapting one of the most high-profile thriller series of the century so far … but the problem with Langdon is that he’s a character fully fleshed out by Hanks alone. There’s little on the page (either the book or the script) to make Langdon anything more than a fountain of information and a mannequin running through a convoluted plot. In the absence of such niceties, we’re left to rely on Tom Hanks, all-around American good guy, to give life to the series. To their credit, the filmmakers behind Inferno wisely dispensed with the most infuriating element of the novel’s conclusion, although they didn’t soften the moronic overpopulation rationale. The plot is ludicrous and the historical trivia is generally unremarkable, but the film does its best to wring a few honest moments of suspense from the result. I do believe that the film is an improvement over the borderline-unlikable book, but that’s not much of a baseline to begin with. (Inferno is the novel that finally made me give up on Dan Brown after being a bit of a contrarian cheerleader for him in post-The Da Vinci Code times.) You can argue that the story is more interesting than the previous two Langdon movies, but the freshness of the symbologist-as-hero premise has faded almost entirely. The result is average without dipping into mediocrity, which would have been a real danger at this point in the series. This being said, this is no call for a sequel. Let Hanks do something else.

  • In the Heart of the Sea (2015)

    In the Heart of the Sea (2015)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2016) On some level, I’m nonplussed by the decision not only to make In the Heart of the Sea, but to spin it in-story as “the inspiration for Moby Dick”. If you want to sink a blockbuster budget into showing the miseries of eighteenth century whale hunting, why not be entirely fictional, or squarely remake Moby Dick and throw in as much CGI into it? But no. This is the story of the Essex, which inspired Moby Dick, and it’s based on a nonfiction book. Rather than be faithful to an adaptation, the filmmakers now have to limit themselves to a patchwork of testimonials describing a true story, and wrap it in a framing device about Herman Melville gathering research material for his upcoming book. The result seems almost an oddity in today’s made-for-teens blockbuster landscape, with lavish production means spent on a subject that approaches irrelevance—despite a too-cute wink at today’s oil industry. Still, as far as modern technology allows for a credible re-creation of the eighteenth-century whaling industry and perils, In the Heart of the Sea certainly has its high points: Beyond the cramped shipboard living conditions and terrible storms, chasing whales takes on an extra edge when confronted with a cetacean antagonist seemingly intent of destroying our pesky human characters. Interpersonal conflicts eventually turn into a terrible story of survival at sea, by which time we better understand why the story is definitely not that of Moby Dick. Liam Hemsworth brings his usual easy charisma to the lead role. Director Ron Howard adds another good movie to his eclectic repertoire, even though In the Heart of the Sea definitely lacks the extra oomph of his better efforts—it’s no Rush, for instance. While the result may not fascinate anyone except those lucky few keenly interested in historical naval dramas, In the Heart of the Sea isn’t a bad movie. It just lacks whatever is needed for a truly satisfying experience.

  • Backdraft (1991)

    Backdraft (1991)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Second viewing, On Cable TV, June 2016) My memory may be playing tricks on me, because I remembered Backdraft as a more iconic film than this second viewing suggests. Despite the far better picture quality of watching this in HD as compared to standard television (maybe VHS) resolution, the film feels a bit smaller this time around. Oh, don’t misunderstand me: I still think Backdraft is the iconic firefighting movie. Fire plays a lead character in the film, the script manages to play with enough suspense elements to keep things interesting. Ron Howard’s direction is the apogee of early-nineties slickness, while a group of great actors do interesting things together, from a dynamic Robert de Niro (back when he wasn’t playing a caricature of himself), to the incomparable Kurt Russell to an unusually strong turn by William Baldwin. Even Donald Sutherland (seemingly as old then as he is now) turns up in a pair of memorable scenes. The firefighting action sequences remain unparallelled, especially than last scenes with the exploding barrels. But in my mind, I had built up Backdraft as something a bit more grandiose than it is. I’m certainly not calling for a remake, but I’m welcoming this as a reminder not to set my expectations too high as I revisit blockbuster movies I haven’t seen in a long time.

  • Rush (2013)

    Rush (2013)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2014)  Given the speed and excitement of Formula 1 racing, it’s a wonder that there aren’t more movies about the sport.  Considering Rush, though, the wait has been worth it: Easily eclipsing 2001’s Driven, this historical bio-drama has everything we’d wish for in a racing film, and strong historical accuracy as a bonus.  Centered around the 1976 Formula 1 season in which British racer Daniel Hunt competed against Austrian legend Nikki Lauda, Rush is an actor’s showcase, a convincing period recreation, a virtuoso blend of special effects and crackling good drama.  Expertly directed by Ron Howard, it’s gripping from the very first moments, pitting a charismatic playboy and a valorous technician against each other.  Howard’s direction doesn’t stay still for long, and does a fine job at summarizing an eventful season’s worth of incidents into a striking whole.  The atmosphere of the high-flying 1970s Formula 1 circuit is impressively conveyed, including impressive race sequences with period cars. (Was is done with CGI or practical?  It doesn’t matter when the film is that good.)  Much of Rush‘s effectiveness boils down to its two lead actors: Chris Hemsworth makes full use of his charisma as the seductive Hunt, his brashness clashing against the methodical Lauda very well-played by Daniel Bruhl.  The two make for compelling rivals, and Rush makes maximum use of their conflict in allowing us a peek into the mind of top-notch race drivers.  As exciting for its dialogue scenes than for its racing action, Rush may not look like much on paper, but becomes steadily engrossing without any effort from the viewer. 

  • The Da Vinci Code (2006)

    The Da Vinci Code (2006)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In theaters, May 2006) This film is as critic-proof as they come, what with its built-in audience, puffed-up controversy and all-star cast and crew. No matter what anyone say, it’ll make zillions and find a modest place of some sort in film history. Stripped of the hype, though, it’s no surprise to find that The Da Vinci Code is merely an average thriller, competently made but hardly innovative. In many ways, it’s fitting that two of the blandest (but competent) Hollywood stars of the moment, director Ron Howard and star Tom Hanks, would help in delivering the epitome of mass-market cinema entertainment. Perfectly blending French and American cinema, The Da Vinci Code delivers endless conversations rudely interrupted by car chases and modest gunfights. Of the actors, only Ian McKellen is any fun at all as a mischievous historian with a flamboyant streak: Tom Hanks, Paul Bettany, Jean Reno and Audrey Tautou are wasted in roles that either don’t suit them or are cut short without much conclusion. But the film’s most distinctive trait is how it alternates between talky exposition and very average thriller episodes. To be fair, the book was just as bad, except that the roughshod charm of Dan Brown’s clunky-but-earnest prose had a forward rhythm of its own. I expect a huge number of academic papers to be written on the adaptation of this story from one medium to another, especially when you consider that the book seems faster-paced that the film. While the critical knives had been drawn in anticipation of this film, the end result in no way deserves a critical savaging: in most aspects, it’s perfectly serviceable, with a tiny thrill of irreverence considering the subject matter. I’ve seen both better and worse this week. In the end, most people will find this film to be a mirror of their own expectations: Fans of the book will be pleased, curious film-goers will be satisfied and literary critics will find another reason to call Dan Brown the Anti-Christ. Now that’s entertainment for everyone!