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, catalog 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.
It’s a busy week on the new release front, with a handful of hits getting the 4K treatment, hidden gems and certified classics hitting Blu-ray, and one of the year’s very best movies making its Netflix bow. Let’s take a look:
ON NETFLIX:
“Dick Johnson is Dead”: As documentarian Kirsten Johnson (“Cameraperson”) realized her father Dick was succumbing to dementia, she floated an unusual proposition: a film collaboration, in which they would imagine and dramatize the various ways in which he could die, and the afterlife that might await him. Making it into a film project makes it manageable for her – she can deal with logistics and specifics instead of the big picture, and can “direct” what is happening, rather than cede control to his illness. That work mirrors the details of caring for her deteriorating dad (packing him up, moving him closer to hear, selling his car), and that is, unsurprisingly, the real heart of the film – a funny and thoughtful rumination on life, death, and the afterlife, told with affection and good humor. And then it will make you sob like an infant. It’s one of the best movies of the year.
ON 4K:
“21 Jump Street” / “22 Jump Street”: Studio comedies aren’t typically a priority in the early days of new formats – we tend to get the “Terminator 2” -esque blockbusters first, to better show off the aural and visual upgrades available to the consumer. But the “Jump Street” movies also aren’t your typical studio comedies; directors Phil Lord and Christopher Miller devised them as hyper-aware meta-movies, sending up the conventions of the buddy action cop movie while slyly embracing them at the same time. So they look and sound great in their new 4K releases, which nicely showcase their immersive action beats. But the draw remains the human comedy at their center, which gets a big boost from the palpable chemistry of stars Jonah Hill and Channing Tatum. (Both include audio commentaries, deleted scenes, gag reels, featurettes, alternate versions, and trailers.)
“Whiplash”: It’s similarly unusual for a character-driven drama from a studio’s “Classics” division to get the 4K upgrade, but good on Sony for giving it to Damien Chazelle’s 2014 breakthrough feature, which won a deserved Oscar for J.K. Simmons. And to be fair, it gains something in the transition; Chazelle’s masterstroke was to make a music movie in the style of a sports movie, focusing on the personality clashes between a rookie underdog (Miles Teller) and his mad-dog coach (Simmons), so the stunning sound design and stylized visuals are sharp as a tack on this release. And the trickiness of its messaging remains fascinating – Chazelle pushes back on the idea that these abusive mentors get results, but the crackerjack closing reminds us that the answer might not be as simple as an “either/or.” (Includes audio commentary, interviews, deleted scene, featurette, and original short film version.)
ON BLU-RAY:
“Drop Dead Gorgeous”: This beauty pageant comedy came and went without much notice in the summer of 1999, flopping at the box office and flying past critics – and that, friends, is how cult classics are born. Now it’s finally getting the deluxe disc treatment it deserves from Warner Archive, allowing us to fully appreciate the pitch-black comedy of Lona Williams’ script, the inspired mayhem of Michael Patrick Jann’s direction, and the shoot-the-works spirit of the performances, including Kirsten Dunst, Denise Richards, Kirstie Alley, Ellen Barkin, and a then-unknown Amy Adams. (Includes trailer.)
“The Elephant Man”: David Lynch’s 1980 sophomore feature, new on Blu from the Criterion Collection, is widely regarded as his most “accessible” effort (with the possible exception of “The Straight Story,”) which is not to say it’s free of his flourishes – particularly its nightmarish opening, an assaultive barrage of sound and image. But it is comparatively restrained, featuring a distinguished (and mostly British) cast, including John Hurt as John Merrick, the title character, and Anthony Hopkins as the physician who saves him from a life spent as a “freak.” But Lynch has a bit of the carny spirit himself, carefully saving the full reveal of Hurt in make-up until well into the film, for maximum effect. So it’s not a complete departure for the filmmaker, but it does center on a kind of naked sentimentality that he’s rarely allowed himself to explore, and is better for it. (Includes archival interviews, featurettes, audiobook excerpts, trailer, and radio spots.)
“Pierre le fou”: “You talk too much,” she complains. “It tires me out just listening to you.” You can say that about a lot of the characters in Jean-Luc Godard’s 1960s output, but as per usual, this 1965 effort (a Blu-ray upgrade from Criterion) is playfully executed, full of elegant stylizations and vibrant color, so you don’t much mind. The portrait of bourgeois radicalism concerns a middle-class family man (Jean-Paul Belmondo) who hits the road with his babysitter (Anna Karina), and what begins as a lovers-on-the-run movie gradually morphs into a satire of them, particularly when the duo discovers they might not be lovers after all. (Includes featurettes, archival interviews, and an essay by Richard Brody.)
“Variety”: Director Bette Gordon’s 1983 drama is finally getting the respect it deserves – a groundbreaking New York indie, and a snapshot of the underground arts scene of its era. Sandy McLeod stars as a young woman desperate for a job who ends up working as the ticket-taker for a porno theater – and finds herself exploring the sexual subculture, first in repulsion, then in fascination. She shifts that fascination to a man she meets there, and Gordon burrows deep into the character’s psyche as a No-Wave “Vertigo” plays out on screen. It’s a mesmerizing piece of work, and Kino Classic’s new Blu-ray restoration is about as sharp as the movie’s ever looked. (Includes audio commentary, stills and storyboards, “Anybody’s Woman” short film, and an essay by Amy Taubin.)
“The Milagro Beanfield War”: Robert Redford took his time – eight years – after winning the Best Director Oscar for his debut picture “Ordinary People” to make his follow-up, and it was an ambitious one: an adaptation of John Nichols’ novel, a big, busy ensemble piece, about as close as Redford’s come to an Altman movie. The execution is delightful, the ensemble cast is impressive (Ruben Blades, John Heard, Sonia Braga, Daniel Stern, M. Emmett Walsh, Christopher Walken in a cowboy hat, and many more) and the politics are unapologetically leftist; what’s not to like? (Includes audio commentary and the theatrical trailer.)
“The Secret of My Success”: Michael J. Fox, still on his post-“Back to the Future” hot streak, stars as a naïve Kansas kid who comes to New York to make it in the business world – which ultimately involves impersonating an absent executive and sleeping with his aunt. It’s about as ‘80s as movies get – both in its music video-inspired style and Reagan-omics stakes – but it’s a pretty good time, particularly when the magnificent Margaret Whitton blasts in to steal her scenes. (Includes audio commentary, interview, and theatrical trailer.)
“The Groundstar Conspiracy”: This 1972 amnesia mystery/conspiracy thriller (with a healthy dash of sci-fi) opens with overwrought spy music and freeze-frames on explosions – it lets you know exactly what you’re in for. The aesthetic is decidedly television-influenced, though director Lamont Johnson plays a bit with experimental shooting and cutting; the real draw is the performances, particularly Michael Sarrazin as the baffled mystery man and George Peppard, doing his hard-nosed, square-jawed, smug-impatience thing, as the government agent on his tail. (Includes audio commentary and theatrical trailer.)
“Martin Scorsese World Cinema Project 3”: Remember back when Martin Scorsese was criticizing Marvel movies and their stans were insisting that the studio’s (very) occasional elevation of people of color were noble, and what has he ever done for marginalized voices? Well, part of the answer is this, his long-running Criterion series of international discoveries. The third installment spans nearly fifty years, from 1934 to 1980, with features from Brazil (“Pixote”), Cuba (“Lucia”), Iran (“Downpour”), Mexico (“Dos Monjes,”) Indonesia (“After the Curfew”), and Mauritania (“Soleil O”) – astonishingly varied in origin and style, yet bound by the common language of cinematic empathy. (Includes Scorsese introductions, new and archival interviews, and more.)