Every Tuesday, discriminating viewers are confronted with a flurry of choices: new releases on disc and on-demand, vintage and original movies on any number of streaming platforms, catalogue titles making a splash on Blu-ray or 4K. This biweekly column sifts through all of those choices to pluck out the movies most worth your time, no matter how you’re watching.
Our latest, extra-jam-packed look at the new release shelf includes noteworthy indies, genre flicks on 4K, a handful of horror favorites, and the usual assortment of classics on Blu-ray. And we’re debuting a new feature, spotlighting the very best of this week’s bunch:
PICK OF THE WEEK:
“Rancho Deluxe”: The newest release from reliable boutique label Fun City Editions is a real unsung gem, the kind of low-key ‘70s masterpiece that’s kind of disappeared simply because there were so many of them. Jeff Bridges and Sam Waterston co-star as a pair of rustlers and hustlers in contemporary Montana who cross a powerful rancher (Clifton James), more out of boredom than any particular malice, and keep upping the stakes while making the dumbest possible mistakes. Thomas McGuane’s screenplay is a marvel of understatement, skipping the conventional scenes we’ve seen before in favor of luxuriating in the quirky supporting characters, brought to life by a four-star ensemble (including Harry Dean Stanton, Richard Bright, Elizabeth Ashley, Joe Spinell, Charlene Dallas, and Slim Pickens). And director Frank Perry proves adept in orchestrating the busy cast without losing narrative focus. The result is an absolute knockout, a movie that’s especially ripe for this kind of loving Blu-ray rediscovery. (Includes audio commentary, new interviews, additional scenes from the television version, trailer, and essay by Gavin Smith.)
ON AMAZON PRIME:
“Annette”: The latest from director Leos Carax is, as expected, spectacularly strange, rooted in his distinctively cockeyed way of seeing the world – its lovers, its artists, its weirdos. It’s a full-on, sung-through musical, but one that goes to some mighty dark places, which is unsurprising given not only Carax’s CV but that of its composers, Sparks. The filmmakers collaborate to both embrace and subvert the conventions of the movie musical, with a wink and a jab, and to further satirize the overblown extravagances of show business. It is, as its divisive rollout has shown, not for everyone. But those who like this kind of thing are realllllly going to like this.
ON BLU-RAY / DVD / VOD:
“Summer of ’85”: François Ozon’s latest looks and sounds like his stab at “Call Me By Your Name” territory, a sweet, ‘80s set, sun-kissed boy-meets-boy story. And at its best, the film understands and recreates the center-of-the-world intensity of first love, how you don’t even know what love is at that age, but this must be it. Or, as our protagonist puts it, “I loved him as much as you understand the meaning of the word.” Those elements don’t entirely mesh with the darkness of the film’s parallel narrative – the carefree, romantic stuff is so enjoyable and sincere that in retrospect, one wishes the entire film had lived there – but the good stuff is so vivid, the rest is forgivable. (Includes deleted scenes, outtakes, interviews, featurettes, and short film.)
“Golden Arm”: Maybe “comic riff on ‘Over the Top’” is a pitch for too specialized an audience, but friends, I am a member of that audience, so I thoroughly enjoyed this story of long-haul trucking and arm wrestling, fused with a more contemporary kind of “Bridesmaids”-esque female-focused raunch-comedy. Mary Holland stars as a mild-mannered Midwestern baker brought into the wrestling circuit as a ringer by her college best friend (Betsy Sodaro), with training montages and underdog victories to follow. Holland and Sodaro’s byplay lands, and there are laughs a-plenty, though the film falls apart a bit in its later attempts to pivot to drama – that’s stuff we’ve seen before, but not in a good way. Still, there’s a lot to like here, and Holland is a real find. (Includes audio commentary, deleted and extended scenes, Q&A, audition footage, featurettes, and trailer.)
ON DVD / VOD:
“Lydia Lunch: The War is Never Over”: Lydia Lunch was one of the key figures of the downtown New York’s “No Wave” movement – an actor, musician, performance artist, and underground icon whose “greatest work of art,” we are told, was herself. Her story would make for a compelling documentary in almost anyone’s hands. Still, it’s particularly effective in the hands of director Beth B, herself a figure in that scene, who brings her low-fi style and furious energy to this examination of their shared history, as well as a palpable sense of admiration for this transgressive and influential artist. (Includes deleted scenes, bonus interviews and excerpts, short film, and trailer.)
ON 4K UHD BLU-RAY:
“Dune”: Maybe producer Dino De Laurentiis was nuts from the beginning, trying to turn something as dense and complex as Frank Herbert’s novel into a riff on “Star Wars” – a series distinguished by its Saturday matinee simplicity. And to then put it into the hands of a weirdo like David Lynch… well, we shouldn’t be surprised that the results were something of a fiasco. But Lynch’s subsequent filmography makes revisiting this 1984 film (out in a handsome new 4K edition from Arrow Films) something of an archaeological dig, as we spend its 137 minutes looking for moments where we can see the Lynch we know peeking out, here in the form of bananas supporting performers, oozing bodily fluids and occasional flashes of surrealist dream imagery. Much of it is awfully silly, but it never lacks ambition or style; oh, but have mainstream movies swing for fences like this nowadays. (Includes audio commentaries, featurettes, deleted scenes, new and archival interviews, theatrical trailers and TV spots, and a booklet of interviews and essays.)
“Awaken”: Terrence Malick and Godfrey Reggio are credited as executive producers of this impressionistic visual tone poem from director/cinematographer/editor Tom Lowe, and if those names are important to you, go forth: the influence of films like “Koyaanisqatsi” and “Voyage of Time” is all over this brew of stunning and visuals and rousing music (cinematic virtues aside, it’s a helluva demo disc for your 4K system). As with those films, it’s a film rendered almost entirely in images, but their juxtapositions are what tell the story – a grand one of shared space and co-existence. Some of what we see is ethereal dreamlike, some as vivid and bizarre as a nightmare, but it’s all enrapturing. And when the urban spaces unexpectedly appear, they’re as jarring as science-fiction; it’s also impossible not to notice how densely populated they are, giving this three-year-old film the strange but unshakable air of a requiem for humanity itself. (Includes audio commentary and trailer.)
“The Cat O’ Nine Tails”: Dario Argento’s follow-up to “The Bird with the Crystal Plumage” is a bit of a comparative disappointment – how could it not be? – leaning more into the procedural elements of giallo, and thus feeling more like a mystery than a horror movie. But it’s plenty entertaining nevertheless, with particular praise due to Karl Malden, in a wonderful turn as a blind amateur sleuth (and as the “Don’t Breathe” movies have proven, that’s a good thriller hook), and a handful of truly ingenious set pieces, particularly a brutal and unforgettable death by train. (Includes audio commentary, interviews, script pages for original ending, poster, lobby card reproductions, and a booklet of essays.)
“Two Evil Eyes”: Many a horror fan sees this 1990 Argento / George A. Romero collaboration as a disappointment, primarily because of its hypothetical opportunities (it was originally envisioned as a “Creepshow”-style anthology film, featuring installments by other horror icons). But freed of those expectations, it has a lot to offer, freely adapting a pair of Edgar Allan Poe stories with dark wit and gore galore. Romero’s entry is the first and best, with Adrienne Barbeau as a gold-digger whose attempt to kill her husband goes hilariously sideways; the Argento, with Harvey Keitel as an unhinged crime scene photographer, is a touch sillier, but plenty disturbing nonetheless. (Includes audio commentary, interviews, featurettes, and trailer.)
“Deadlock”: Appearances can be deceptive in genre cinema; in its opening frames, this 1970 picture looks and feels like a Spaghetti Western, but then it’s in German (sauerkraut Western?), and the mysterious figure we’re following is in a contemporary suit, with a modern gun. But director Roland Klick revels in the dusty nihilism of the era (not unlike Jodorowsky did with “El Topo” the same year). He tells the story of a briefcase full of cash, and that guy, and three men who try to get their hands on both, preferably at the same time. It’s a battle of wits and wills, played out in a series of double-crosses, power plays, and mind games, augmented by the feverish imagery of its border setting. And all three men are pretty vile, making this a nasty, bloody, and ultimately merciless little item – riveting, dark, and delicious. (Includes audio commentary, interviews, featurette, alternate ending and opening, and trailers.)
ON BLU-RAY:
“A Place in the Sun”: Montgomery Clift stars in this 1951 classic (the latest from the “Paramount Presents” line) from George Stevens, who picked up that year’s Oscar for Best Director. Clift plays the black sheep of an industrialist family, trying to take his place, with some difficulty; “What are we going to do about him socially?” asks his aunt. But the film’s class aspects are rarely that explicit; they’re mostly unspoken, in silence and subtext, as he works his way up the company ladder and into the arms of a wealthy socialite, played by Elizabeth Taylor. They’re electric together, which goes a long way towards complicating the film’s noir aspects, as the lower-class girl he initially romances (Shelley Winters, wonderful) begins to look, to him, like a barrier. Clift magnificently taps into a well of darkness as the drama plays out, and though the shift into courtroom movie in the third act is less successful, it’s a knotty and powerful picture until then. (Includes audio commentary, featurettes, and trailers.)
“Nashville”: Robert Altman’s magnum opus reverts from Criterion back to Paramount Presents, and while that means losing some bonus features, the movie is what matters. And it’s a beauty, masterfully interweaving two dozen characters in and around the Nashville music scene for a gentle mediation on celebrity, politics, love, sex, and the state of the union on the eve of the Bicentennial. Altman’s style was, at this point, honed to perfection: freewheeling yet interlocking narratives, overlapping dialogue, complex characters, and scenes that may not even be improvised, but feel like it, so imbued are they with the sprung rhythms of everyday life. He may have never made a better film. (Includes audio commentary, featurette, and trailers.)
“Bugsy Malone”: Alan Parker made his feature directorial debut with this charming riff on the gangster movies (and the musicals, and the boxing melodramas, and more) of the 1930s. The gag is that it’s cast entirely with children – including young Jodie Foster and Scott Baio – and rather than tommy guns, these kids mow each other down with custard pies. It sounds like a one-joke premise, and maybe it is. But Parker, who also penned the script, knows his conventions (it could’ve been played by adults without much tweaking, and therein lies that satire), and it’s immaculately designed and mounted; the costumes, sets, and cinematography are exquisite, and the set pieces and musical numbers (the songs are by Paul Williams) are convincingly staged. The young actors shine – especially Foster, who always seemed wise beyond her years – and they mostly just seem to have a good time, which is infectious. (Includes interviews and trailers.)
“Beasts of No Nation”: Netflix’s first big original movie makes its way to the Criterion Collection, and it’s still one of their best. Abraham Attah (in, incredibly, his film debut) is Agu, a young West African boy who goes from desperate villager to child soldier; Idris Elba is his commandant, a fierce yet charismatic figure whose descent into smallness and petty tyranny is one of the picture’s sharpest elements. Cary Joji Fukunaga directs and writes the screenplay (adapting Uzodinma Iweala’s novel) and walks a fine line, depicting the horrors of this conflict without descending into exploitation. And Elba is magnificent, reminding us of the gifted actor we keep losing to franchise junk. (Includes audio commentary, featurette, new interviews, trailer, and an essay by Robert Daniels.)
“Ashes and Diamonds”: This pre-Costa-Gavras political thriller from director Andrzej Wajda was a fairly early entry into the Criterion Collection, so its Blu-ray upgrade is overdue but welcome. Set in postwar Poland and trafficking in political assassinations and underground movements, Wajda’s script (written with Jerzy Andrzejewski, adapting his novel) deals with weighty subject matter but is often bleakly funny and deceptively casual, with odd detours and sidebars serving as diversions for the devastating impact of the closing passages. (Includes audio commentary, video essay, archival newsreel footage, and an essay by Paul Coates.)
“Prince of the City”: Sidney Lumet’s 1973 film “Serpico” was, and remains, one of the great cop dramas – and this 1980 picture, which similarly told the story of a real-life NYPD detective-turned-informant, must’ve initially sounded like a retread. But Lumet is like a jazz artist, returning to a theme and trying out a variation; if Frank Serpico was a good cop who turned on his fellow officers out of duty and obligation, “Prince” protagonist Danny Ciello was a bad cop who turned on his fellow officers to save his own skin. The opportunities for drama and suspense are thus even richer, and Lumet’s signature attention to detail and skill with actors help make this potentially daunting effort (it runs just under three hours) into one of his finest achievements. (Includes featurette and trailer.)
“One Crazy Summer”: Director Savage Steve Holland and his “Better Off Dead” star John Cusack reunited for this 1986 slobs-versus-snobs comedy, with Cusack as a newly graduated high school loser who heads of to Nantucket for the summer with his best pal (Joel Murray), where he clashes with a preppie shithead, hangs out with local weirdos, and falls for an aspiring musician, played by Demi Moore. She’s at her most charming, and their romance provides a sweet and sticky center for what is, in most other ways, a typical ‘80s gross-out comedy. The spirit of “Animal House” and “Stripes” is present throughout, right up to the big, boisterous climax that shouldn’t work but does. Warner Archives’ new Blu-ray nicely preserves this deeply stupid (but thoroughly enjoyable!) time-waster. (Includes audio commentary and trailer.)
“Shadow of the Thin Man”: By this fourth film, the “Thin Man” series had become something like a TV show; it operated on what and who we already knew (William Powell and Myrna Loy as a pair of wealthy, cocktail-sipping sleuths), with no introductions or explanations required. And with the ingredients this refined – sparkling repartee, colorful supporting characters, adorable canine shenanigans, etc. – the only real variable was the mystery. Luckily, this is a good one, and screenwriters Harry Kurnitz and Irving Brecher wisely set it in the worlds of horse racing and professional wrestling, creating copious comic possibilities for our Nick and Nora. (Includes cartoon, short film, and trailer.)
“In the Good Old Summertime”: Robert Z. Leonard’s musical adaptation of “The Shop Around the Corner” followed the original by only nine years, but to their credit, they didn’t just add songs: “Summertime” has lavish Technicolor, a period setting, and Buster Keaton. Van Johnson is a bit of a stiff in the male lead, but Judy Garland more than makes it up in her marvelous turn, and the pair generates delightful love/hate chemistry (and perform an ace bit of slapstick upon their initial meeting). And keep an eye out for Liza Minnelli, making her film debut in the closing shot. (Includes introduction, shorts, and trailers.)
“Thoroughly Modern Millie”: A murderer’s row of musical talent – including stars Julie Andrews, Mary Tyler Moore, Carol Channing, songsters Jimmy van Heusen and Sammy Cahn, and composer Elmer Bernstein – assembled for this energetic recreation of the flapper era. Andrews is the title character, perpetually unlucky in love; a screamingly funny Moore is her new best friend and neighbor. Looking back, it feels like director George Roy Hill was warming up for “The Sting” a few years later, and he throws in some enjoyable flourishes (particularly his clever use of silent film intertitles for Millie’s inner monologue). KL Studio Classics’s new Blu-ray is of the film’s roadshow version, which is a little bloated at 153 minutes – but then again, most ‘60s musicals were. (Includes audio commentary and trailer.)
“What’s So Bad About Feeling Good?”: This 1968 comedy from director George Seaton has long been out of circulation (it never even saw a DVD release), and may well have resurfaced due to a strange bit of synchronicity: it concerns an airborne virus that takes over New York City, whose citizens are forced to wear masks to avoid infection. But the contagion here is one of joy, with infected individuals experiencing outright euphoria – a good gag on the already established notion of NYC as a home for miserablists and curmudgeons. George Peppard and Mary Tyler Moore (again!) are charming in the leads, though Dom DeLuise steals the show as a straight-talking strategist brought in to help City Hall through the pandemic. (Includes audio commentary and trailers.)
“The Last Man on Earth”: Just in time for Halloween, KL is rolling out a series of vintage Vincent Price titles, starting with this similarly timely adaptation of Richard Matheson’s “I Am Legend.” Price turns in a haunted, shell-shocked performance, one of his best, as a mysteriously immune scientist attempting to survive after a deadly pandemic turns most humans into snarling vampires. Its best scenes merely detail his bizarre daily life; it loses some force in an extended flashback section, explaining how he got here. “I’m a scientist, not an alarmist!” he says, in one of several poignant lines. “I just can’t accept the idea of universal disease.” Matheson’s plotting is shrewd as ever, and the ending still jabs like a knife. (Includes audio commentary, featurette, alternate ending, TV spots, and “Trailers from Hell” with Joe Dante.)
“The Raven”: Looking back, there’s something kind of wonderful about an exploitation filmmaker like Roger Corman finding such commercial success in period-dress literary adaptations. To be sure, the works of Edgar Allan Poe weren’t exactly stuffy, and this 1963 feature was about as free an adaptation as one can imagine, a mixture of unapologetic silliness and moody atmosphere (again from Matheson). Price here teams with Peter Lorre as the title character and Boris Karloff as the villain, and it’s clear that these three old hams are having the time of their lives. A young Jack Nicholson co-stars, though he’s out of his element; he never finds the tonal balance that his elders do. (Includes audio commentary, Roger Corman interview, featurette, theatrical trailer, and “Trailers from Hell” with Mick Garris.)
“The Comedy of Terrors”: That trio of old masters reteamed the following year for this horror-comedy, again penned by Matheson, with Jacques Tourneur (“Cat People”) in the director’s chair – and they now seem as comfortable as a vaudeville comedy team. It’s much broader and wackier (even degenerating into occasional bits of Stooges-like slapstick), with Price going all-in as a drunken, greedy louse, Lorre as his assistant, and Karloff as his father-in-law; an uproariously theatrical Basil Rathbone joins in the fun. It’s all energetically staged and paced like a freight train by Tourneur, who builds up a furious head of comic steam on his way to a corpse-heavy finale. (Includes audio commentary, featurette, and trailer.)
“No One Heard the Scream”: It’s a big week for fans of Spanish giallo master Eloy de le Iglesia – his ‘80s “Cine Quinqui” trilogy is making its Blu-ray debut via Severin Films, alongside this expert 1973 chiller. It’s got a nifty little set-up: Carmen Sevilla stars as a single woman who finds herself alone in her apartment building with only one other resident (Vicente Parra), whom she’s just caught trying to dispose of a dead body. “You’re going to help me get rid of my wife’s corpse,” he growls, and as the clever script twists this way and that, their uneasy alliance grows gradually, well, easier. The compositions and cutting are sharp as a razor, the music is groovy, and de le Iglesia takes the events exactly as seriously as he should. (Includes interview.)
“She Freak”: Exploitation movie legend David F. Friedman wrote and produced this loose (and unauthorized) remake of Tod Browning’s “Freaks,” new on Blu from AGFA and Something Weird Video. And it’s a scuzzy little number, filled with feverish melodrama, over-the-top performances, and looky-loo pandering. Yet it’s all grounded by a sense of unexpected verisimilitude; Friedman was an old carny (which came in handy as a film distributor), and the midway footage, as well as the script’s casual knowledge of carnival logistics, lends those passages a documentary authenticity. “Write what you know,” they say, and that certainly seems to have been the case here, resulting in an effective and unnerving piece of work. (Includes audio commentary, featurette, inserts for alternate version “Asylum of the Insane,” feature-length Friedman trailers compilation, vintage shorts, and an essay by Lisa Petrucci.)
“Through the Fire”: Vinegar Syndrome unearths the original cut of a 1988 Texas-made horror flick, released on video at the time, inaccurately, as a sequel to “The Gate.” But it’s got everything you want from an ‘80s chiller: a Satanic panic narrative, a power-guitar score, mustachioed men, copious boobs, and noisy cats. A young woman convinces a vacationing cop to help her find her missing sister, leading them to an evil cult and a bullet-ridden showdown. The dialogue is goofy (“Pentagram. “ “It’s… black magic.” “Like in books”), but enjoyably so, and the climactic action beats are so well done, even the most cynical viewer will succumb. (Includes audio commentary, alternate cut with audio commentary, interviews, and behind-the-scenes footage.)
“The Lamp”: Originally released in the U.S. as “The Outing,” this is another slab of Texas terror (also new from Vinegar Syndrome), with a very specific low-budget, regional, ‘80s horror energy: rowdy, silly, but genuine in its enthusiasm. Three loathsome yee-haws’ home invasion of an ancient gypsy woman unleashes the worst imaginable genie, with deadly consequences for (of course) a group of horny teens who’ve snuck into a natural history museum for a night of unauthorized fun. It’s a little light on scares (especially early on), but the characters are memorable, the performers are charismatic, and the kills and effects are pretty impressive when they arrive. (Includes audio commentary, featurette, and trailer.)
“Forbidden Fruit: The Golden Age of the Exploitation Picture – Volume 12”: The opening crawl of “B-Girl Rhapsody,” one of the two vintage burlesque movies included here, describes burlesque as “the poor man’s musical comedy and the tired businessman’s favorite relaxation,” and that’s as good a summation as any of this art form that served as the bridge between vaudeville and strip clubs. That film and “Peek-A-Boo” amount to a filmed record of a typical burlesque show; both are performed on a proscenium stage, with a curtain opening to reveal a show that combines group dance numbers, bad comedy sketches, and performers stripping down to their pasties (but no further). It’s no great shakes as cinema, but both films are a valuable document of this old, disreputable entertainment. (Includes audio commentaries and trailers.)