Roy Dupuis

  • Maurice Richard [The Rocket] (2005)

    Maurice Richard [The Rocket] (2005)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, July 2020) 1940s hockey player Maurice Richard is a French-Canadian legend, especially for Montréal Canadiens fans. Prestige biographical drama Maurice Richard mostly does justice to his memory, presenting a credible overview of his career, and the tension that existed between him and the mostly English-language NHL at the time. Charles Binamé’s sober direction lends gravitas to the result—perhaps too much at times: this sometimes feels like a heritage minute stretched over nearly two hours. (Albeit with uncharacteristic inflammatory language agitprop.) Visually, it looks almost exactly like what we imagine the 1940s to look—drab, featureless and without colour except brown. Fortunately, Roy Dupuis is not bad as Richard. Still, while Maurice Richard is respectable, it’s also slightly duller than a movie about a sports hero should be.

  • Comment faire l’amour avec un nègre sans se fatiguer [How to Make Love to a Negro Without Getting Tired] (1989)

    Comment faire l’amour avec un nègre sans se fatiguer [How to Make Love to a Negro Without Getting Tired] (1989)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2020) In the mid-1970s, a Haitian journalist named Dany Laferrière left dictatorial Haiti to establish himself in Montréal, later writing a provocatively titled first novel that he eventually adapted for the big screen. Laferrière has since become a French-language literary superstar (he’s even a permanent member of the prestigious Académie Francaise, essentially cementing his place in the current pantheon of living writers), but his first novel, especially as brought to the screen, is an endearing mixture of outsiders looking at Montréal, a lusty romantic comedy with light fantastic elements, reflections on being a young writer and an excuse to parade a series of great-looking women on-screen as the object of the characters’ lust—it’s summer in Montréal, the women are lovely and there’s our protagonist looking to hook up and complete his novel (not necessarily in that order). There’s quite a bit of pop-philosophic dialogue on gender and racial issues, a pleasant summertime feel and not much plot along the way. For watchers of the French-Canadian cinema scene, there are many actors with early roles here, a cameo by Laferrière himself and a rather comfortable portrait of Montréal in the summertime. It’s not absent of racism toward our protagonists (with Julien Poulain and a young Roy Dupuis as two of the three racist antagonists), but it’s clear where the sympathies of the film lie. Provocative by design (holy moly, that poster!), the film has kept a bit of an edge thirty years later—while the racial daring has abated a bit (French Canadian society is markedly more racially integrated now, although there’s still a long way to go), the gender content is liable to have a few people grinding their teeth today—the women characters here are avowed caricatures down to their names (Miz Literature, Miz Suicide) and only our two main characters have some sort of significant characterization. Still, it’s the kind of film that it wants to be: I found it funny, insightful and perhaps most of all comfortable most of the time as it talks about women, writing and summertime life in the city. Not for everyone, certainly, but still a worthwhile look for many.

  • Screamers (1995)

    Screamers (1995)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Second Viewing, In French, On Cable TV, December 2019) If you’re not French-Canadian, you probably don’t know how Screamers was a minor sensation in French-Canada when it came out in 1995. After all, it had been produced in Québec at a time when few Hollywood productions made their way to La Belle Province, was financed by a Québec-based company, directed by a French-Canadian (Christian Duguay), largely crewed by Montréal-area people, and featured then-big-name star Roy Dupuis in a supporting role. For SF fans, it was noteworthy for featuring a script co-written by Dan O’Bannon from a Philip K. Dick story, which was still a bit of a novelty before the big wave of PKD-inspired Hollywood movies of the 2002–2012 decade. Alas, the disappointment was real when Screamers was released and wasn’t anything special. Twenty-five years later, the film has not improved. In fact, it’s now more obnoxious than ever considering that nearly everything in it bears the stamp of cheap mid-1990s filmmaking and has been remade much better by other movies. The dullness sets in early as the film features post-apocalyptic visuals on a planet ravaged by war and an enemy that passes itself as something else. Considering its Philip K. Dick pedigree, it’s no big surprise that the human characters may not be. Considering that it’s a cheap Science Fiction B-movie featuring monsters, it’s also not a surprise that the number of characters constantly dwindles on the way to the ending. Dour, downbeat, and relentlessly ugly, Screamers bears the hallmark of the worst of its filmmaking era. Late-analog effects stick out in a bad way, and a boring script doesn’t help. There are occasional flashes of competence, but those only recall better examples of the form. Roy Dupuis apparently dubs his own character on the French-language version, but that’s not a good thing considering how his French-Canadian accent keeps sticking out among more neutral mid-Atlantic voices. The result is just tedious, ugly, and exasperating. I saw Screamers on VHS in the mid-1990s, but had forgotten about it until now … and am now ready to forget about it once more.

  • Séraphin: un homme et son péché [Séraphin: Heart Of Stone] (2002)

    Séraphin: un homme et son péché [Séraphin: Heart Of Stone] (2002)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On DVD, March 2004) I don’t usually respond very well to manipulative tearjerkers or works glorifying Quebec’s rural history, which makes Séraphin all the more surprising. Yes, it’s shameless in how it sets up a tragic love triangle between manly hero, selfless heroine and sadistic villain. But just as you think that it’s never going to work… it does. Quasi-parody scenes turn out well and the film is involving even as it’s playing all of the obvious cards. The lead trio (Roy Dupuis, Karine Vanasse and Pierre Lebeau) does excellent work, but it’s the cinematography of the film that steals the show; the historical re-creation of the era is top-notch, with plenty of telling details and beautiful shots. Charles Binamé’s direction is constantly interesting and even the most ridiculous moments (ah, tastefully-placed sunlight…) are effective. I’m not sure how foreign audiences will respond to a romance set in 1890 rural Québec, but even I am surprised at how well it played to me.

    (Second viewing, On TV, July 2022) Being able to revisit a film after nearly two decades is also an opportunity to measure what could be laughably called personal growth. Compared to my first impressions of Séraphin: Un homme et son pêché, I’m far more lenient on the film today. It’s still manipulative, overdone, ridiculously over-dramatic. Except that I don’t care as much, and I’m more willing to look elsewhere in what the film manages to accomplish. I suppose I’m also a bit more comfortable with my French-Canadian heritage than I was—and in that light, Séraphin presents the kind of glossy take on Quebec’s history that’s not unpleasant to have as a cultural artifact. I still have issues with the film—in particular, it misses a great opportunity to showcase the death of its antagonist like in the original novel (a far better image than the one that concludes the film). But I can’t help but link this version of the classic terroir story to Maria Chapdelaine, another dramatized piece of Quebec’s rural history that has often been presented on-screen: it’s not a bad thing to have such pieces of folklore around, even if it reinforces a backward-looking vision of French Canada that I don’t particularly care for: it’s not meant to be the last word nor even any kind of statement. But it allows viewers to slip into a fantasy version of a remote village with the town villain; the poor oppressed heroine; the virtuous hero coming back from logging work; the venal priest; the town businessman; the foreign-educated powerhouse upsetting everything in the village. Add La Postière to a screening of Séraphin and Maria Chapdelaine for a thoroughly entertaining vision of rural Quebec in film. Maybe one good enough to show to les étrangers!