Yves Montand

  • Manon des sources (1986)

    Manon des sources (1986)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2021) If you were left bewildered and heartbroken by the tragic tale of French drama Jean de Florette, keep in mind that it was only the first part of a whole completed by Manon des sources—both movies being shot as a single super-production with the approval of a French government eager to bolster its national history through glossy motion pictures. This second half of the story (adapted from a novel by the renowned Marcel Pagnol) picks up half a generation later, as the young Manon (who, in the earlier film, saw her father’s life being destroyed by the schemes of two local farmers) attains adulthood and sets out to avenge past offences. As with the previous film, there’s a strong cinematographic quality to Provence as shot in yellow, green and brown: the scenery is magnificent in its semi-arid quality, and we feel as much as we understand the importance of the local water supply. But it’s narratively that Manon des sources provides most satisfaction: After spending three hours of total time cranking up the pressure of unpunished injustice, the last hour of the film goes from revelations to punishment in several cycles, giving the last words to Yves Montand in a great last performance. The ending does pile up so many revelations and twists that it defies plausibility, but since much of the film takes place in solidly melodramatic territory, this isn’t as inappropriate nor as ineffective as you’d think. Montand is typically great in what feels like an archetypical role, but Daniel Auteuil also does well, and Emmanuelle Béart aptly replaces Gérard Depardieu. By the end of the film, my opinion of both movies had increased significantly from the first moments of the first film: it wraps up with a nice bow and a tragic flourish. Jean de Florette and Manon des sources are landmarks of 1980s French cinema for a good reason.

  • Jean de Florette (1986)

    Jean de Florette (1986)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, January 2021) If you want to talk about the big guns of 1980s French cinema, Jean de Florette imposes itself as a must-see: As the first half of a massive project (along with sequel Manon des sources) going back to early-20th-century Provence as a backdrop to a melodramatic tale of deception and revenge, it features lush cinematography, big stars and the approval of the French establishment. Adapted from a book written by no less than Académie Française member Marcel Pagnol, it seemingly spares no expenses going back in time to a small village where water is a scarce commodity. Gérard Depardieu stars as a family man coming back to his deceased mother’s farm with big plans to raise rabbits. But that plan depends on having access to water, and as luck would have it, the locals have other plans: Distrustful of the educated, optimistic outsider, two of them conspire to hide an invaluable spring on his farm. The legendary Yves Montand capstones an illustrious career as the antagonist, with some able assistance from Daniel Auteuil as a co-conspirator. Spending two hours watching a likable protagonist’s plans being thwarted by the small-mindedness of rural locals may not be anyone’s idea of a good time, but there’s a compelling quality to the narrative; the pacing is faster than you’d expect and the film is meant to be seen as the depressing Part One of a larger work preparing for the release offered by Manon des sources. Depardieu, Montand and Auteuil each provide exceptional performances in their own way, and the setting provides the rest. Shot in a yellow/green palette punctuated by brown, it’s often a spectacular film even when abstracting the narrative. Historically, the film fits in a national strategy of exploring France’s past through movies, and it’s hard to imagine a better depiction of that time and place. (Even if, to French-Canadian ears, the accents often play as a caricature of a certain kind of Frenchman—Montand is particularly ripe for imitation.)  I was honestly surprised by Jean de Florette—I watched it out of obligation, and ended up enjoying it. (But I’m writing this after the far more engaging Manon des sources, so keep the necessity of watching both in mind.)

  • Le salaire de la peur [The Wages of Fear] (1953)

    Le salaire de la peur [The Wages of Fear] (1953)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (Criterion streaming, August 2019) Despite Le salaire de la peur being on several lists of essential movies, I approached the film with caution—as any modern viewer would in tackling a 1950s black-and-white thriller lasting slightly over two hours and a half. The first hour seemingly gives credence to the caution, as it leisurely introduces a small South American town filled with desperate people. Slowly, we piece together the plot: The town is dominated by an oil company that, for reasons, needs four suicidal men to quickly drive gallons of nitroglycerin over a long dangerous distance. There are a few fake-outs and multilingual subplots on our way to the real movie, but we eventually get there. By the time our four main characters have been identified and take the wheel of two explosive-laden trucks, Le salaire de la peur really begins, and it becomes a true white-knuckle thrill-ride until the end. The road to the destination is a carnival of outlandish obstacles designed to test the ingenuity of the screenwriter: a bumpy dirt road that can either be taken fast or slow (leading to a deliciously original suspense sequence based on physics); a dangerous hairpin turn; obstacles to be cleared explosively; and an oil-filled crater filled with surprises. The latter half of Le salaire de la peur is pure mechanically-driven analog suspense—even modern viewers will smell the engines, taste the dirt and feel the physical elements that drive its action scenes. It’s as good as suspense gets, and it still works magnificently sixty years later. Yves Montand makes for a capable hero, and director Henri-Georges Clouzot manages his production with devilish precision once we’re past the prologue. I can take that dull first half once you throw in that remarkably effective second half. Alas, there’s a false note at the very end, once we think that the sacrifices had led to something. But then again, that may have been the only way to conclude such a story. Modern viewers should flock to Le salaire de la peur, make their way through the dull setup and relish the impact of the rest of the film. It’s that good.

  • Grand Prix (1966)

    Grand Prix (1966)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2019) As I continue my exploration of classic Hollywood cinema, I have a growing fondness for those movies that manage to capture something that existed then and doesn’t now. Movies with a big enough budget to fulfill their goals of immersing us in a world unlike our own. Movies such as Grand Prix, which takes us right in the middle of mid-1960s Formula 1 racing. Hop in the cockpit of a fast car, because we’re going for a ride! Director John Frankenheimer here manages the stunning feat of presenting an entire F1 season through distinct races, augmented by some stunning cinematography designed by none other than Saul Bass. Several sequences have an authentic feeling of speed and danger as we sit next to the driver, fly in helicopters, or witness impressively staged accidents. Even today, the racing sequences impress—and it’s amazing to realize that this was shot for real without CGI trickery—it would be almost impossible to restage Grand Prix with its period feel today (although Rush did come close), making it something that can never be surpassed even with today’s means.   It may not come as a surprise to find out that the narrative connective tissue between the races is far more conventional. There are only so many permutations of classic racing subplots, after all, and Grand Prix only has to put up enough connective tissue to get the next race with a bit of dramatic context. There is some serious acting talent on display here. Yves Montand is quite cool in a leading role, as is a young James Garner. None other than Toshiro Mifune makes a cameo as a Japanese racing team owner. Meanwhile, Jessica Walter is jaw-dropping beautiful as the romantic lead. Movies with intermissions usually have me wishing they were shorter, but not Grand Prix: this one is worth the near-three-hour running time. What an incredible film, even half a century later.

  • Let’s Make Love (1960)

    Let’s Make Love (1960)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (In French, On TV, November 2018) I’m on a quest to watch pretty much everything that George Cukor has directed, and for Let’s Make Love to feature Marilyn Monroe is just extra incentive. Coming at this film with expectations raised too high may be a problem, though: despite a few cameos and occasional flashes of wit, the result is decidedly average and not quite what we’d expect from the cast or the opening moments. The first few minutes of the film do set up a far funnier film than what we get, through narration explaining the family history of the lead character (played by Yves Montand), a Franco-American billionaire who ends up playing himself in a satirical play in order to get close to Monroe’s character. The difficulties in having a businessman attempting to become a stage sensation soon lead him to the film’s most inspired sequences, namely hiring Milton Berle for comedy tips, Gene Kelly for dancing lessons and Bing Crosby to learn how to sing. The three men play themselves, leading to a few cool moments if you’re already a fan of these entertainment legends. Otherwise, though, the film is surprisingly underwhelming. The traditional romantic comedy hijinks aren’t executed particularly well when Montand looks lost (thanks to language difficulties), Monroe is fine but doesn’t have much of a character besides looking pretty (this was at a point in her career when she was gathering a reputation for being unreliable), and the casting definitely seems off. High expectations make this film a disappointment, so do try to keep them under check: it’s not as good as you think it will be from reading the cast list, and the behind-the-scenes drama of making the film (what with an affair between the two leads even as they were married to other high-profile celebrities) is arguably more interesting than what shows up on-screen. [December 2018: My opinion of Let’s Make Love went up a small notch after catching an English-language broadcast of the film: The French version not only has some very awkward transitions between English-language songs and interstitial French dialogue, but has the gall to cut off some of the Berle/Kelly/Crosby material that is the highlight of the film. French dubs are usually much better than this.]