Walter Matthau

  • Denis the Menace (1993)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, December 2021) If my calculations are correct, I’m not too far from the age midpoint between Dennis the Menace’s cranky old curmudgeon played by Walter Matthau and the titular young pest played by Mason Gamble. Even so, my sympathies are clearly on the elderly character’s side, as the young boy engages in a systematic campaign of harassment, humiliation and endangerment toward the older man. But this is clearly not a film made for elderly or even middle-aged viewers — this is a petulant child’s fantasy about sticking it to the old people and their unfun ways. It is, in other words, utterly dreadful to watch — Child Protective Services should be called at some point in the narrative to protect society against the child and take him far away. Overmedication of hyperactive boys is a terrible thing in real life, but I’m willing to make an exception in this fictional case. There’s little both-sides sympathy here when Matthau is playing a caricature, only outdone by a criminal character that seems custom-made to send every suburban mom in barely repressed panic about the homeless. Dennis the Menace is frankly a chore to sit through the moment you discover girls, caffeine and rock-and-roll — even if I don’t believe in movies being role models, it’s a borderline reprehensible take on childhood that shows its psychopathic side far too often. There was a slate of those in the 1990s (Home Alone and Problem Child also come to mind), but those did have something going for them beyond the hellion angle.

  • The Front Page (1974)

    The Front Page (1974)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2021) On the one hand, I’m happy they remade the classic 1920s newspaper comedy The Front Page in the 1970s, and that they got talents such as Billy Wilder, Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon to take part in it — it’s a slick update to a good movie, and it’s far more accessible to modern audiences. It’s an easier way to experience the story by virtue of being in colour, with a clean soundtrack and mature camerawork, more familiar actors, etc. The skill though which Wilder and often-unrecognized co-writer I.A.L. Diamond retools the story is a case study in subtlety and appropriateness — executed up to the 1970s standards (with a few additions), it generally feels like the original, while sanding away a number of the rougher edges that weren’t as acceptable fifty years later. It’s decently amusing, especially as an affectionate look at the rough-and-tumble world of city journalism in the 1920s. On the other hand, I have deliberately avoided comparing 1970s The Front page to 1930s His Girl Friday, because there really isn’t any comparison: Wilder/Matthau/Lemmon are fantastic but not trying for the same thing as Hawks/Grant/Russell were going for, and the 1934 film is probably (still!) faster-paced than the later film. The gender flip that brought so much romantic tension to the story is not there, as it reverts to the original premise, and you can see the repercussions of that decision nearly everywhere in the result. In other words, The Front Page remake is good, while His Girl Friday remains terrific. You could ask if merely remaking a film was the best use of Wilder/Matthau/Lemmon’s talents, especially at that late stage of Wilder’s career, but second-guessing veteran directors looking to scratch an itch (Wilder having been a newspaperman early in his career) isn’t always useful. The result does have a few misfires — Carole Burnett isn’t up to her usual standards here in a role that remains atonally troublesome even with the Wilder/Diamond sanding of its rough edges. Still, I’d probably screen this version of the story as appetizer to anyone not used to classic films but interested in watching His Girl Friday — it’s a good basic presentation of the story, and it can ease viewers into progressively older material. I’m still glad that it exists and it may have been the best film that Wilder could have done at the time. Still, I can’t help but wonder what other films Wilder could have done instead.

  • The Fortune Cookie (1966)

    The Fortune Cookie (1966)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2021) One of the reasons why Billy Wilder’s films have endured better than many of his contemporaries is the clever wit with which they’re built. Uncommonly smart at working within the confines of the Hays Code, Wilder’s movies still speak to us through their cynicism, imperfect characters and atypical narratives. The same goes for The Fortune Cookie. To be fair, I don’t think that the idea of a man being manipulated by their wily lawyer into faking an injury for insurance purposes is as fresh today as it must have been in 1966 — it’s the kind of thing that has become a cliché. But the way Wilder goes about it remains entertaining and compelling. It does help that he can benefit from some solid actors in the lead roles: The Fortune Cookie is perhaps best known for being the first of many on-screen pairings of Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau. Here, Lemmon plays the injured party encouraged to remain bedridden, while Matthau plays the slimy lawyer going after an insurance settlement. (Matthau suffered a heart attack during the film’s production, returning to set weeks later and thirty pounds lighter — he won an Oscar for his troubles.)  The result is a comedy that’s not particularly heavy on the laughs, but still maintains a lighthearted touch throughout. It even ends with a certain moral fortitude while allowing all characters to keep their heads high. Unexplainably shot in black-and-white at the close of that format’s relevance in Hollywood, The Fortune Cookie remains a solid film, clearly showing the Wilder touch as a filmmaker who continues to impress cinephiles.

  • The Sunshine Boys (1975)

    The Sunshine Boys (1975)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2020) In movie history, The Sunshine Boys is famous for reviving the career of George Allen, a vaudeville veteran whose first film career ended in 1939 before making a comeback decades later as (what else?) an elderly vaudeville veteran. He’s paired with Walter Matthau as the other half of a legendary duo now unable to even stand the sight of each other. After eleven years, a TV special appearance orchestrated by a well-meaning agent/nephew brings them together again, but it’s not a given that they’ll make it out of rehearsals. As with most movies directed by Neil Simon, there’s a powerful sense of place and time in The Sunshine Boys: Here we are in mid-1970s Manhattan in the universe of Jewish comedians (named deli sandwiches included), but always harkening back to the glory days of vaudeville. I’m fascinated by the history of American comedy, and The Sunshine Boys certainly delivers when it comes to showing how a declining elderly comedian lives his last years. Matthau has played some curmudgeonly characters during his career, but few are as spectacularly ornery as here—he effortlessly plays a character twenty years older than him, and oozes the kind of unrestrained crankiness that some old men develop. The beginning of the film can be trying if you’re not in-tune to the atmosphere—both elderly characters seem borderline senile, unable to deal with any normal social situation any more. It’s only when they come together that their minds sharpen up, even if it’s to trade insults. Allen is remarkable as the other half of the duo, with good comic timing and canny instincts: the sketch sequence does have its share of honest laughs, and the Oscar he won for the role wasn’t merely a reflection of a comeback story for the ages. (Allen would then go on to outlast several other actors by maintaining an active movie career until 1994, and keeping up appearances until shortly before his death as a centenarian in 2001—I’m old enough to remember when his name was synonymous with any joke having to do with elderly celebrities who would never die.) In the hands of a veteran playwright like Simon, The Sunshine Boys also slowly trade off jokes and insults for honest affection for the characters. There’s a point in the third act where the film seems to derail and get locked in a single room, but it eventually claws its way back to comedy and, happily, a bit of heart.

  • A Guide for the Married Man (1967)

    A Guide for the Married Man (1967)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, July 2020) One of the most fundamental questions in filmmaking, for filmmakers and critics alike, is “why this film?” Why would someone of Gene Kelly’s stature, for instance, decide to direct A Guide for the Married Man? I strongly suspect that the answer boiled down to money, specifically how Gene Kelly’s musical comedies were a thing of the past and mid-1960s audiences paid to see sex comedies. The premise of the film is blatantly immoral (the titular “guide” is to instruct men in adultery) but don’t worry—as with most 1960s sex comedies, it doesn’t lead anywhere particularly shocking. But “not shocking” doesn’t quite mean “innocuous”—the male gaze of A Guide for the Married Man is overwhelming enough to think that in-between the lecherous camera’s habit of focusing on naked backs and long legs, it couldn’t be remade today. Executed as a series of vignettes featuring an ensemble cast alongside leads Walter Matthau and Robert Morse, the film is uneven almost by design, even if there are a few comic gems here and there. Matthau is quite good as the protagonist, while Morse looks a bit like a naughty Mark Hamill. Meanwhile, director Kelly has a sure eye for comic material and his bright and colourful portrait of the ongoing sexual revolution is nice and naughty enough to fit with the other 1960s sex comedies. The ending is all wholesome, which is what was needed for the playful tone of A Guide for the Married Man. Still, I can’t help but think—why accept this project at all?

  • Hopscotch (1980)

    Hopscotch (1980)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2020) Sure, you’ve seen spy comedies—but how about a retired spy comedy? In the surprisingly satisfying Hopscotch, Walter Matthau plays a CIA spy with a head full of secrets and fingers itching to dance on a typewriter—he retires out of spite and then, to get even with a bad boss, threatens to spill everything he knows in his autobiography. Knowingly baiting the CIA in a globetrotting cat-and-mouse game, he sends clues and “falls” for traps, except that he’s skilled enough to be the cat and spring counter-traps on whatever the CIA tries. Hopscotch is not necessarily rip-roaringly funny, but it is amusing, clever, compelling and somewhat more pleasant than most espionage thrillers of the era. Matthau has a role that suits him well, and he never misses an opportunity for the kind of rumpled-face sly-dog humour that best characterized his screen persona. My biggest problem with Hopscotch is Glenda Jackson’s helmet-like hairstyle, but her character is likable and well-written—like much of the script in general. (Adapted from a novel by novelist Brian Garfield himself, the film is more literate than most of the subgenre.) Hopscotch is a treat for Matthau fans, a welcome antidote for glum 1970s spy thriller fans, and a happy little victory for all cinephiles.

  • Cactus Flower (1969)

    Cactus Flower (1969)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2020) The one thing that holds together the somewhat bland romantic comedy Cactus Flower is a fascinating trio of actors from very different eras of cinema—Ingrid Bergman, Walter Matthau, and Goldie Hawn in her first big-screen lead role. It’s quite a cast, and the film around them never quite reaches the potential of that trio. The story is a bit of a jumble, but largely about a dentist (Matthau) who keeps pretending he has a wife to avoid commitment in his affairs, except when he falls for a record-store clerk (Hawn) and has to find a pretend wife (Bergman) in a hurry to keep control over the affair. While the cast is amazing, the casting is more disputable—Matthau as a playboy is something I’ll shrug over, while Bergman may not be the most obvious pick as a screwball lead. Hawn does very well, though (she won an Oscar for it), fully capturing the hip 1969 Manhattan vibe that the film is aiming for—the extended sequence in a music store will delight who considers movies to be a fanciful time-travelling device. While often blander than expected, Cactus Flower does get a few smiles along the way, plus a jazzy take on the song “I’m a Believer.” It ends exactly how we expect it to, but the fun is in getting there. Plus, if you’re looking for a linchpin in your “Seven Degrees of Kevin Bacon” game, it’s a film that effortlessly takes you from the 1990s to the 1940s thanks to Hawn and Bergman.

  • Grumpy Old Men (1993)

    Grumpy Old Men (1993)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, January 2020) As its stars age past retirement, Hollywood also developed its subgenre of victory-lap movies—one last chance for actors with recognizable screen persona to strut their stuff once more, and run on memories of past performances. Grumpy Old Men is a classic example of the form: It once again features Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau as a bickering pair of lifelong elderly friends in wintry Minnesota, with none other than Ann-Margret looking amazing as the middle-aged temptress driving a further wedge between them. (It’s acceptable to have mixed feelings about this trio—While it’s rare and welcome to have a female romantic interest older than 30, there was still a 16-to-21 years difference between Ann-Margret—aged 52 at the time of the film’s release—and the Matthau/Lemmon duo—aged 73 and 68 at the film’s release.) Still, the point of the film isn’t to add thirty years to the usual Hollywood age difference, but to allow Lemmon and Matthau one more chance (which ended up being four more chances) to bicker on-screen decades after The Odd Couple. Anyone watching the film for the marquee names certainly knows what they’ll get: biting repartee and petty pranks are what keep those two characters bonded, and it’s not a September-November romance that’s going to get between them. It’s a romantic comedy, after all, and it even has a B-couple made up of the protagonist’s children. (Ann-Margret looks better than Darryl Hannah, but it’s a close thing.) There’s an adequate mixture of jokes, romance, jokes about romance and a bit of heart-driven drama toward the end to put everything in perspective. The ending fake-out won’t fool anyone. In those movies, the biggest measure of success isn’t about the plotting complexity or the quality of the filmmaking but whether the stars got a chance to remind audiences of what made them famous. On that criterion, Grumpy Old Men achieves its objective: Ann-Margret looks fantastic with red hair (at least this time nobody thinks it’s a natural red), Matthau is grumpy, Lemmon is funny and anyone even remotely familiar with 1960s cinema has also been driven once more around the lap.

  • A Face in the Crowd (1957)

    A Face in the Crowd (1957)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2019) The more I dig into 1950s cinema, the more I realize that there was much more to the decade than the epic movies and MGM musicals that often pop up as representative of the time. It’s possible to assemble a very nice corpus of audacious satires and warnings about the nascent medium of television, not merely as a competitor to cinema but also as a force affecting civil society (paralleling 2010s concerns about social media). In 1957 alone, you can take a look at Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? for a comic take, Sweet Smell of Success for a darker tale of runaway media personalities, or to A Face in the Crowd for a full-bore dystopian vision of a demagogue made unstoppable by the power of media. As amazing as it can seem from 2019’s realization that there’s a significant portion of the American populace that will embrace a tinpot authoritarian for comfort, there’s long been a streak of Hollywood movies warning against the dangers of fascism, and A Face in the Crowd turns out to be a character study of what happens when someone with mean authoritarian instincts can put up a false populist front. Andy Griffith (of all people!) turns in a dark and memorable performance as “Lonesome Rhoades,” a folksy guitar player who is discovered by a radio journalist and takes to radio like a natural. Before long, his folksy manners and willingness to say things that people want to hear propel him to greater and greater success, all the way to a national TV show from New York. But Rhoades is not the person he broadcasts himself to be: egomaniac, womanizer, abuser, he becomes all too aware of his own power and plans for much, much bigger. As the radio journalist contemplates the monster she has created, the question becomes: Can he be stopped? Griffith is wonderfully evil here, as Patricia Neal plays the conscience of the film and Walter Matthau plays a terrific part as a highly cynical writer. (His verbal takedown of Rhoades at the very end of the film is an exceptionally efficient piece of writing allowing the story to end in mid-flight yet reassure us that it’s over.)  As a piece of entertainment, A Face in the Crowd touches upon dark topics with success. But it’s as a media critique that the film becomes more and more relevant each year—the medium may change, but people like Rhoades are adept at exploiting them and had more people heeded the film, the American political leadership may not be in such a sorry state at the moment. I’m not sure that A Face in the Crowd can be called a hidden classic as it regularly gets unearthed and highlighted as being worthy of modern attention—but it’s a great movie and it shows us modern viewers that the 1950s weren’t necessarily the quaint quiet calm period often portrayed to be.

  • The Survivors (1983)

    The Survivors (1983)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On Cable TV, August 2019) You would think that a Robin Williams/Walter Matthau pairing would be comedy heaven, but the truth as proven by The Survivors (for this is the only such pairing) is that it just ends up being a mess. The roots of the problem go back to a meandering script with poor tonal control and what seems like few ideas about where it’s going. Williams doesn’t get a chance to work in his best comic range, although Matthau does a bit better in a role suited to his persona—some of the film’s best and funniest sequences are those in which his characters use his experience and hidden skills to try to control the excesses of his younger co-star. Still, there are plenty of missteps along the way, including a wholly unsatisfying redemption arc for the film’s villain that undercuts most of the (thin) emotional involvement of the audience in the film. There’s some material here about survivalists and a jaundiced perception of New York City that still plays well, but it’s really not enough. The lunacy of the script seems scattershot (sometimes featuring an employee-firing parrot, sometimes mired in urban grittiness). Now little known outside being a part of its two co-stars’ filmography, The Survivors isn’t a particularly shining example of early-1980s comedy.

  • The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (1974)

    The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (1974)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2019) Knowing that it was coming from the middle of the bleak 1970s, a time when “urban” was always followed by “decay”, I was frankly expecting the worst from The Taking of Pelham One Two Three. How could a movie depicting a hostage taking in the NYC subway be anything but bleak and depressing? Fortunately, this isn’t quite the case: While the film is a slow-burn thriller, it’s not entirely bleak and can even be surprisingly engaging at times. Walter Matthau stars as the city official trying to piece together the elements of a criminal plan before they come to fruition, and the choice of giving this heroic role to an actor like him is indicative of a playful oddball sensitivity that runs through the movie: the characters have colds, are interrupted by visiting Japanese visitors, and one of the hostages stays asleep through much of the excitement. Thanks to director Joseph Sargent, 1970s New York City in this film is grimy but not always bleak and after a relatively tepid first half, The Taking of Pelham One Two Three gets going toward the end with a few good sequences. The musical theme is interesting and complements the interesting period piece atmosphere. I’m always fond of techno-thrillers, and the detail through which the film explains the minutiae of the NYC subway system is absolutely fascinating. In a few words, I had a great time with The Taking of Pelham One Two Three, and it’s definitely worth watching today even if you’re familiar with its vastly less remarkable remake.

  • Fail-Safe (1964)

    Fail-Safe (1964)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2018) If ever the news have you down, if ever you start despairing for humanity, if even the nights are dark and the days even darker, then have a look at Fail-Safe and be comforted by the fact that we all made it out of the Cold War and its overhanging threat of a nuclear holocaust. A nightmare put on film by director John Frankenheimer, Fail-Safe is one of 1964’s three delayed reactions to the Cuba crisis executed as thrillers. Unlike Seven Days in May, it’s very much centred on the possibility of nuclear exchange between the USA and the USSR. Unlike Dr. Strangelove, it’s not a comedy. Really not a comedy. From the first few unsettling images to the last heartbreaking freeze-frames, Fail-Safe is unrelenting in its fatalistic grimness. It follows an implacable logic in which the worst traits of men, machines and systems all lead to the death of millions. Hope is dangled then taken away and even the usually jovial Walter Matthau here plays completely against type as an implacable academician coolly assessing the logic of mutually assured destruction. Peter Fonda is also quite good as The President facing down a catastrophic scenario in which an out-of-control American bomber mistakenly believe it must bomb Moscow. Asphyxiating and merciless, Fail-Safe is shot is stark black-and-white with very few musical cues, its naturalistic approach making everything feel even worse. Such a situation may not be particularly credible today, but it’s sobering to watch the film and realize that it reflected a real possibility back in 1964. We may have our own issues today, but I’ll take them over the threat of all-consuming nuclear war.

  • Charade (1963)

    Charade (1963)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2018) It does take a while before Charade comes into focus. It begins strangely, with a contrived meet-cute at a ski resort in the Alps that turns into an even stranger succession of events once the heroine comes back to Paris to find out that her husband has died, a large amount of money is missing, and three strangers really hated her ex-husband. The artificiality of the setup is almost overpowering, and even the comforting presences of Audrey Hepburn as the widow and Cary Grant as a mysterious free agent aren’t quite enough to unpack the heavy-handed setup. But as the deaths and double-crosses being to pile up, Charade does acquire a nice velocity, and even answers the questions raised in the first act. Hepburn is adorable as the endangered heroine, despite being too young for the role. Meanwhile, Grant is terrific as someone who may or may not be friendly—he’s occasionally very funny (ha, that shower scene!), and his last grimace of self-revelation at the very end is like seeing a split-second callback to the classic comedies early in his career. Also noteworthy as supporting roles for Walter Matthau, George Kennedy and James Coburn. Great scores and visual design by Henry Mancini and Saul Bass round up an impressive crew. Surprisingly not directed by Alfred Hitchcock, Charade is increasingly endearing the longer it goes on, and satisfyingly blends romance, comedy and suspense. It’s well worth watching. Just make sure to give it more than thirty minutes to make sense.

  • Hello, Dolly! (1969)

    Hello, Dolly! (1969)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On DVD, February 2018) I’m hit and miss on most musicals, but so far I’m three-for-three on Gene Kelly directed musicals (plus an honorary mention for On the Town) including the sometimes maligned Hello, Dolly! I’m not saying that it’s a perfect film or even on the level of Singin’ in the Rain: The romantic plot between the film’s two leads is unconvincing, some numbers are dull, Barbra Streisand is arguably too young for the role, the first half-hour is barely better than dull and the film doesn’t quite climax as it should (the biggest number happens long before the end). But when Hello, Dolly! gets going, it truly shines: Walter Matthau plays grouchy older men like nobody else before Tommy Lee Jones; Barbra Streisand is surprisingly attractive as a take-charge matchmaker suddenly looking for herself; the B-plot romantic pairing is quite likable; the period recreation is convincing and the film’s best numbers (the parade, the restaurant sequence) are as good as classic musicals ever get. As with other Kelly movies, it’s a musical that understands its own eccentric nature as a musical, embracing the surrealism of its plotting and the most ludicrous aspects of its execution. It’s awe-inspiring in the way ultra-large-budget movies can be: the parade sequence is eye-popping and the hijinks at the restaurant are a delight. Seeing Louis Armstrong pop up to croon his own take on Hello, Dolly! in his inimitable voice is a real treat. It doesn’t amount to a classic for the ages like other musicals, but Hello, Dolly! Is still a heck of a lot of fun even today, and it’s quite a bit better than what the contemporary critical consensus has determined.

  • The Odd Couple (1968)

    The Odd Couple (1968)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2018) The premise of The Odd Couple is universal to the point of nearly being a cliché fifty years later: A neat freak and a slob having to cope with each other in a single apartment? Sure-fire laughs. After seeing the same variation a few dozen times, however, it’s not surprising that the original The Odd Couple would feel so familiar. The film seemingly takes forever to establish what seems already obvious, and some plot points (especially during the third act) now feel forced more than organic. Fortunately, other elements rescue the film from those weaker moments: Both Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon are quite good in the lead roles, and the beauty of The Odd Couple’s classic structure means that the film is almost bound to be satisfying from the beginning to the end. But the film’s biggest asset remains Neil Simon’s terrific dialogue, as witty now at it was then and adding much to the now-standard formula. The result may not feel particularly fresh, but it continues to get laughs.