The Big Red One
The Women
(Warners)
Samuel Fuller’s uneven but stark
1980 World War II drama, The Big Red One,
gets its Blu-ray debut, sort of: the familiar 113-minute release cut is in (substandard)
hi-def, while the reconstructed—and far more engrossing—162-minute director’s
cut is only in standard def. Based on Clare Booth Luce’s amusing play, George
Cukor’s 1939 The Women has an
exemplary starry cast—Norma Shearer, Joan Crawford, Rosalind Russell, Paulette
Goddard and Joan Fontaine, for starters—which provides masterly comic timing
throughout, and it looks fine on Blu. One
extras comprise a Richard Schickel reconstructed version commentary, Fuller
documentary, featurettes and alternate scenes; Women extras include documentaries, a cartoon and an alternate
sequence.
The Color of Lies
(Cohen Media)
Claude Chabrol’s low-key, creepily
effective 1999 Hitchcockian mystery—about a painter, accused of killing one of
his young students, who might be cuckolded by his loving wife—works precisely
because Chabrol gives substantial weight to the characters and their relationships,
not just to solving the murders (the wife’s possible lover later turns up
dead). This shrewd thriller features sympathetic performances by Jacques
Gamblin and Sandrine Bonnaire and tasty, well-used chamber music by Chabrol’s son
Mathieu. The Blu-ray image is enticingly grainy; the lone extra is an audio
commentary.
(Synapse)
One of the most listless Hammer horror
flicks is Peter Sasdy’s 1971 snoozer, in which an elderly countess (Hungarian
actress Ingrid Pitt) drinks the blood of virgins to keep her youth—but what
happens when the supply of young women dries up? What could have been a wicked and
sexy parody is instead played pretty much straight, dulling the effect. Only
the final scenes are campy fun; there’s also the lovely Lesley-Anne Down as the
old lady’s nubile daughter. The hi-def transfer is attractive enough; extras
include a Pitt audio interview and a Pitt career featurette.
(Eagle Rock)
Ronnie James Dio was the leather-lunged
singer beloved by metal fans for his solo work and stints in Rainbow and post-Ozzy
Black Sabbath, and this 1993 London concert shows off his top vocal form as his
crack band romps through 19 tunes in a fast-paced 90 minutes. Pretty much
everything Dio fans want is here: “Holy Diver,” “The Last in Line,” “Rainbow in
the Dark,” Rainbow’s “Man on the Silver Mountain” and Sabbath’s “Heaven and
Hell and “Mob Rules.” The Blu-ray image is basically a standard-def video, but the
sound is appropriately pummeling. The lone extra is a backstage featurette.
(Criterion)
Following his Italy-set Certified Copy, Iranian director Abbas
Kiarostami travels to Japan for this enigmatic drama about a student call girl,
her mechanic boyfriend and her elderly client. When the boyfriend thinks the
old man slept with her, he takes his revenge—or does he? The not quite
ambiguous final shot sums up the entire film: its supposed vagueness nods to a
greater dramatic weight than this minor film by a major director has. The
hi-def transfer is immaculate; the lone extra is a 45-minute on-set featurette.
(Warners)
The fourth and last season of Nikita, in which the world’s leggiest
rogue assassin finds herself on the run after being framed for the
assassination of the president at the end of season three, seems truncated,
considering it’s only six episodes long: but it might also be the primary
reason why the nonsensical plot twists are kept to a minimum. But real fans
shouldn’t complain either way, since Maggie Q continues to look absolutely fabulous
in her form-fitting killing outfits. The Blu-ray image looks impeccable; too
bad there are no extras to help wrap up the series.
(Sony)
When Titanic and Gladiator inserted
silly romance and stilted melodrama onto their elaborate historical frameworks,
they were awarded Best Picture Oscars; Paul W.S. Anderson does the same with
his trashily entertaining drama about the Vesuvius eruption of A.D. 79, which
buried an entire Roman city under ash for two millennia, but I doubt he’ll be
winning any Academy Award hardware for his efforts. This CGI-filled spectacle doesn’t
overshadow actors like Keifer Sutherland, Emily Browning and Carrie-Anne Moss,
who help its 100 minutes pass by painlessly, while the final shots cleverly
merge fiction and history. On Blu-ray, the film looks smashing in 3D and 2D;
extras include an Anderson commentary, deleted scenes and several featurettes
and interviews.
Back in Crime
(Kino Lorber)
If you can ignore the genre’s usual
improbabilities, this time-traveling French policier
is quietly riveting, mainly for the offbeat chemistry between haggard detective
Jean-Hugues Anglade and psychiatrist Melanie Thierry, a beauty who may well be
Michelle Pfeiffer’s Gallic daughter. If director Germinal Alvarez can’t quite
grasp the fantastical aspects of the plot (the script is by Alvarez and Nathalie
Saugeon), he at least concentrates on the personal side of things, which is more
compelling than the serial killer case anyhow.
Pennies from Heaven
Summer of ’42
(Warner Archive)
Despite Mediterranean locales and
a cast including Vittorio de Sica, Victor Spinetti, Robert Wagner and the ever-beauteous
Raquel Welch, 1967’s Biggest Bundle
is a pale imitation of the jet-setting action-adventures it wants to parody.
Herbert Ross’s 1981 Pennies from Heaven
is not the equal of Dennis Potter’s original TV mini-series with Bob Hoskins,
but it has undeniable charm and pathos thanks to Steve Martin, Bernadette
Peters and the always underrated Jessica Harper. Then there’s Summer of ’42, Robert Mulligan’s affecting
1971 exercise in nostalgia, which features Jennifer O’Neill as the most
alluring yet innocent-looking beauty in movie history. Pennies includes a 2001 reunion of cast and crew and reviewer Peter
Rainer’s commentary.
(First Run)
The premise—a female doctor has
sex with patients in an apartment she keeps separately from her husband and young
son—makes it sound like this is a soft-core Cinemax special: would that it was!
Instead, Nanouk Leopold—who takes his heroine at face value—has a clinical
directorial style that turns what could have been a 95-minute jaunt into a slow
crawl. On the plus side, actress Sandra Huller’s fiercely committed performance
makes this contradictory woman empathetic if not exactly believable.
(Impulse)
Jungle Blue
(Vinegar Syndrome)
Porn’s “golden age” of the 1970s—so-called
because supposedly talented artists made good films that just happen to include
wall-to-wall explicit sex—includes this trio of basically plotless flicks with
hardcore sex scenes that are anything but “good.” There’s 1974’s The Chambermaids, most notable for
starring Andrea True, who later had a big hit single, “More More More”; 1973’s Honey Buns, which is completely
innocuous; and 1978’s Jungle Blue, which intercuts its
hardcore inserts with a nonsensical ape plot.
(Music Box)
This utterly absorbing 4-1/2 hour
epic (made for German TV) examines how disastrous Nazi leadership annihilated
the German people, literally and figuratively: of the five friends and siblings
we meet at the beginning of the war and follow until its ignominious end, only
three survive, each in various stages of emotional and physical duress. Director
Philipp Kadelbach and writer Stefan Kolditz explore Germany both on a huge
canvas and in microcosm; if there are unavoidable touches of melodrama, this is
still an unforgettable three-part war film. The lone extra is a 20-minute director
and writer “master class.”
(Eagle Rock)
The strange story of Syd
Barrett—songwriter-performer extraordinaire who founded Pink Floyd and whose
mental illness forced him out of the band after its debut album—is recounted in
this hour-long 2001 documentary by friends and fellow Floyd mates David Gilmour
(who replaced Barrett), Nick Mason, Roger Waters and Richard Wright, who quite
touchingly discuss his genius and sad demise (he died in 2006). The first disc also
includes the full Waters interview; a bonus disc comprises the full Gilmour,
Mason and Wright interviews—did Waters demand to be separated from his former
band mates?
(IFC Midnight)
Though not the female Fight Club, director Josh C. Waller’s single-minded
movie about a group of kidnapped women forced to beat the crap out of one
another to ensure that beloved family members are not killed doesn’t have the
most original premise. Too bad the mind-numbing repetition of bloody revenge—not
to mention a tease of a not quite happy ending—desensitizes the viewer after
awhile. Extras include commentary, cast/crew interviews, featurettes, deleted
scenes with commentary, gag reel and short.
Alfredo Casella—Complete Music
for Cello and Piano
(Brilliant Classics)
Mieczyslaw Weinberg—Chamber Music (CPO)
Passionate Diversions—A
Celebration of Ellen Taaffe Zwilich (Azica)
Three chamber music discs by a
strong composing trio begins with Italian Alfredo Casella, whose career spanned
the the first half of the 20th century; his music for cello and
piano—beautifully played by cellist Andrea Favalessa and pianist Maria Semeraro—is
irresistibly romantic. Mieczyslaw Weinberg, a Polish-born Russian who died in
1996, wrote music in many genres that’s only finding deserved audiences on disc
and in performance (his opera The
Passenger will be heard in New York this summer); this disc of his characteristically
and wrenchingly emotional music, like his Trio and Sonatina for Violin and
Piano, is performed brilliantly by pianist Elisaveta Blumina and violinists
Kolja Blacher and Erez Ofer, among others.
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