The Adderall Diaries
The Green Room
(A24/Lionsgate)
Stephen Elliott’s book The Adderall
Diaries makes a bumpy transition to film: novice writer-director Pamela
Romanowsky can’t balance the varied strands of her protagonist’s life—abusive
childhood, difficult adulthood, creative block—with James Franco, Amber Heard,
Ed Harris, Cynthia Nixon and Christian Slater left adrift as a result. The
effective claustrophobic thriller Green
Room is too single-minded to transcend its genre: no one cares who lives or
dies among those at a remote Oregon rock club. The killings—bludgeonings,
shootings, slicing-and-dicings and pit-bull maulings—become numbing after
awhile, and writer-director Jeremy Saulnier badly errs with one of the lamest
final dialogue exchanges ever. Both films have first-rate hi-def transfers; Adderall extras are deleted scenes,
making-of featurette and Romanowsky’s commentary, and Room extras are Saulnier’s commentary and making-of featurette.
Slasher—Complete 1st Season
(Scream Factory)
If originality
means little, then enjoy this derivative but creepy Canadian horror series (shown
on the Chiller network), which begins with the ultraviolent murders of a
husband and his pregnant wife by a hooded Halloween hoodlum, then jumps ahead
to follow their grown daughter who—and why not?—moves into the house where they
were killed. Of course it’s completely absurd, but the ongoing series of murders
soon takes on a Seven vibe that’s enough
to keep it on track. The visuals look quite good on Blu; lone extra is an
on-set featurette.
Suture
(Arrow)
Writer-director duo
David Siegel and Scott McGehee’s 1993 debut is a snail’s-paced, self-satisfied homage
to/rip-off of superior movies about paranoia and identity like The Manchurian Candidate and The Face of Another. Despite
professional actors like Dennis Haysbert and Mel Harris and Greg Gardiner’s tangy
B&W photography, the overall vibe is of an efficient amateurishness. It does
look authentically grainy on Blu; extras comprise directors’ commentary with
fan Steven Soderbergh, new making-of featurette, deleted scenes and the duo’s
first short, Birds Past.
The Swinging Cheerleaders
(Arrow)
Jack Hill’s 1974 softcore drive-in movie gets the T&A part right, thanks
to a trio of gregarious leads: Rainbeaux Smith, Colleen Camp and Rosanne Katon
before becoming a Playboy Playmate,
which makes the stiffly acted story of uncovered campus corruption on the
gridiron expendable. The film has been nicely restored in hi-def; extras comprise
a new Hill commentary and interview, 2012 post-screening Q&A with Camp,
Katon and Hill, and additional archival interviews.
(Warner Archive)
Lumbering for 135 minutes, this 1964 adaptation of the Broadway musical by
the man behind the classic The Music Man
falters in nearly every way; even Debbie Reynolds’ portrait of a woman who is
never beaten down is outsized and generic at the same time, despite a Best
Actress Oscar nomination. Meredith Willson’s songs are as forgettably similar
as his Music Man tunes were true
classics; at least director Charles Walters uses the beautiful Colorado scenery
to good effect. The film (shot in Panavision) looks terrific on Blu; lone extra
is a featurette.
Van Gogh
(Cohen Film
Collection)
In Maurice
Pialat’s superlative 1991 biopic, actor Jacques Dutronc is mesmerizingly
understated as the Dutch painter living out his final days in obscurity and
mental instability in northwestern France. Pialat displays with utmost artistry
and no artifice the uniqueness of artistic creation; one of Pialat’s greatest
films, this masterpiece will haunt the viewer for days afterward. The film’s incredibly
rich colors and shadings are preserved on Blu; voluminous extras comprise
interviews and over an hour’s worth of deleted scenes, although inexplicably
missing are Pialat’s early Van Gogh short and an interview with Pialat himself
(both included on the superior European release).
My Golden Days
(Magnolia)
French director
Arnaud Desplechin’s captivating and complex comic drama is a two-hour memory
piece about the main character of his 1996 masterpiece My Sex Life (or
How I Got into an Argument) and his adventures as a young man. It
feels, if anything, too short: to breathe more, it needs another 30 minutes or
so to flesh out every characterization, relationship, storyline. Still, this
wonderfully, generously Dickensian view of life in all its permutations has
energy, insight, and the unbeatable Mathieu Amalric at his harried best. So
why isn’t this often-dazzling, visually stimulating film on Blu-ray? Extras comprise
a Desplechin interview, casting session and featurette on the actors.
The Preppie Connection
(IFC)
Dramatizing the true story of a group of affluent college students who rely
on a working-class interloper to smuggle cocaine directly from Colombia for
their parties during the greed-is-good Reagan ‘80s, director/co-writer Joseph
Castelo has fashioned an interesting cautionary tale of excess and privilege
that remains relevant today. Thomas Mann is a mite obvious as the local preppie
who doubles as the buyer, while Lucy Fry convincingly plays the unattainable beauty
who falls for him. Extras are commentaries by Mann and Castelo and behind the
scenes featurette.
The Next Big Thing
(Icarus)
Marjoleine Boonstra’s Silence succinctly
recounts the career and art of Mark Rothko through interviews with experts,
glimpses at his monumental paintings and works that influenced him, and even the
appearance of his son Christopher, who reads from his father’s own writings
about art. Frank van den Engel’s Next Big
Thing amusingly (and sometimes bemusedly) shows how the contemporary art
scene has become entirely cost-driven, with ultra-rich collectors making sure
that, when they pony up millions of dollars for artworks, it’s worth it to
their bottom line.
No comments:
Post a Comment