Citizen Kane—75th Anniversary
(Warner Brothers)
Rightly celebrated as The Great American Movie, Orson Welles’ towering
debut remains a remarkable cinematic achievement, with an innovative narrative
structure that still works its strange magic 75 years later. And the sterling
Blu-ray transfer only enhances Gregg Toland’s lustrous B&W compositions, as
well as throwing Welles’ youthful genius into sharp relief: he never topped
himself in the next 40+ years of making (or trying to make) movies, although he
came close with his follow-up, The
Magnificent Ambersons. Warner Brothers’ latest Blu-ray release comes on the
heels of its stacked 70th anniversary edition in 2011; there are
fewer extras this time around: Roger Ebert and Peter Bogdanovich commentaries,
still photography with Ebert commentary, interviews and world premiere footage.
(Warner Archive)
In one of the laziest superhero movies ever made, Ron Ely (TV’s Tarzan)
plays the “Man of Bronze” in Michael Anderson’s 1975 camp fest, which isn’t
very amusing, exciting or entertaining throughout its turgid 112 minutes. Aside
from a nice performance by Pamela Hensley in the sole female role (she’s of
course just eye-candy), this remains an often cringe-worthy flick that probably
won’t warrant repeat viewings even for camp fans. The film does have a
sparkling transfer, so there’s at least that.
(Disney)
The latest animated Pixar juggernaut is this cute tale of a fish with
short-term memory loss who gets by with a little (actually a lot) of help from
her friends—including some voiced with aplomb by Albert Brooks and Ed O’Neill.
Ellen DeGeneres provides the engaging voice of Dory, while the clever director
Andrew Stanton (Finding Nemo) is back
for more, which brightens up this sequel immensely. The hi-def transfer is
spectacular; extras (spread out over two discs) include shorts, featurettes and
deleted scenes.
The Goodbye Girl
(Warner Archive)
Richard Dreyfuss won the 1977 Best Actor Oscar for his fresh and
ingratiating comic portrayal of a down-on-his-luck actor who befriends—and soon
falls for—the dumped girlfriend of the guy who sublet a Manhattan apartment to
him, along with her adorable little daughter. Neil Simon’s script is funny and
tender in equal measure, Herbert Ross’s directing brings everything into
comedic and romantic harmony, and Marsha Mason and 10-year-old Quinn Cummings
are as terrifically irresistible as Dreyfuss. The hi-def transfer is solid and
detailed.
(Criterion)
Six films’ worth of a samurai and a stroller-bound toddler, filed with
geysers of blood and stylized violence might seem a bit too much, but that’s
what this boxed set brings together: the half-dozen Lone Wolf films, made in a creative spurt by four directors between
1972 and 1974. Although it’s overkill (pun intended), there’s great fun in
watching our hero vanquish opponents with the greatest of ease, all with his
kid watching the increasingly bloody proceedings. All of the films have
stunning new transfers and are complemented by extras comprising Shogun Assassin, the American recut of
the first two films, which was a hit over here; interviews; and featurettes.
(Eagle Rock)
Mick, Keith and what’s left of the boys performed in Havana last March in
front of over a million fans, who responded ecstatically to a sharp and
polished performance that’s highlighted by bulls-eye versions of “Angie” and “You
Can’t Always Get What You Want” (complete with choir) among the handful of timeless
tracks on the set list. The band sounds as tight as ever, and extras feature an
additional five songs that were cut from the concert film for some reason, the
best of which is a surprisingly funky “Miss You.” Both hi-def audio and video
are outstanding.
Art21: Art in the Twenty-First Century—Season 8
(PBS)
The latest series of programs dealing with several cutting-edge artists
from across the country and the world touches down in Chicago, Los Angeles,
Mexico City and Vancouver to profile four artists in each city, all of whom are
making their own mark and staking their own claim in an increasingly fractured
and crowded art market in the age of the internet. The most interesting of
these artists are both from L.A.: Edgar Arceneaux, whose investigation of history includes his reenactment of
Ben Vereen’s discomfiting performance at President Reagan’s 1981 inaugural
ball, and Liz Larner, whose remarkable sculptures play with time and space.
(First Run)
The still unresolved status of the island of Okinawa—under the control of
the United States, with its army bases, since the end of the Second World
War—is encountered head on by director John Junkerman, who interviews survivors
from both sides of the incredibly bloody and drawn-out battle, along with
Americans and Japanese who either lived or were stationed on the island in the
intervening decades. Although he is clearly on the side of those many who are
still loudly protesting the presence of the U.S. military bases, Junkerman cuts
to the heart of and illuminates a still polarizing subject for Americans and
Japanese alike. Extras comprise additional interviews.
(Sony Classical)
Now that he’s reached classical super-stardom, pianist Lang Lang can make
any kind of album he wants, including this pell-mell stew of pop and Broadway tunes,
jumbled together and turned into ersatz light-jazz, which adversely afflicts
Don Henley’s “New York Minute,” Alicia Keys’ “New York State of Mind,” and even
Lou Reed’s “Boulevard,” mashed-up insipidly with “Summertime” by George
Gershwin. These New York-inspired tunes are rounded out by a flashy version of Gershwin’s
“Rhapsody in Blue.” Lang has always been an idiosyncratic player, but too often
on this disc he sounds like a mere cocktail-bar ivory tickler.
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