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.
This week’s big, big new release roundup includes two high-profile winners at this year’s Oscars, the big winner at 1965’s Oscars, a handful of cult faves making their 4K debuts, a must-have box set for fans of low-budget genre fare, and catalog Blu-ray releases featuring such icons as Jackie Chan, Cary Grant, Marlon Brando, and Snoopy. Let’s do some browsing:
ON BLU-RAY / DVD / VOD:
“Raya and the Last Dragon”: Disney’s latest animated feature is a lovely, luminous adventure story, comprised of familiar elements: a brave Princess (voiced by Kelly Marie Tran), a stern but loving father (Daniel Dae Kim), a formidable villain (Gemma Chan), and a wacky comic sidekick (Awkwafina). Some of those elements show their wear, and Awkwafina’s schtick veers between inspired and strained. But the story they’re telling is worthwhile, the mythology is detailed, and the craft is simply astonishing, bringing a variety of distinctive worlds and lush landscapes to vivid life. (Includes deleted scenes, outtakes, featurettes, and Easter eggs.)
“Minari”: Lee Isaac Chung’s Academy Award winner (and Best Picture nominee) concerns a Korean-American family’s immigration to the greener pastures (literally) of Arkansas, but this is no simple-minded fable of pulling oneself up by the bootstraps. Their story is stressful from frame one, with the marriage between parents Jacob (Steven Yeun) and Monica (Yeri Han) already in distress; “That land is your dream?” she asks, incredulously, and his can-do spirit and gee-whiz enthusiasm begins to melt away in the reality of what they’ve taken on. “Minari” is modest on is surface, moving along in a series of comic vignettes and mild arguments. But there are tempest and torrents just underneath, as the picture slowly, expertly works its way to a point of simultaneous devastation and satisfaction. (Includes audio commentary, deleted scenes, and featurette.)
“The Father”: The strange events at the conclusion of this year’s Oscars have cast an unfortunate shadow over Florian Zeller’s wrenching drama (and Anthony Hopkins’ superb performance in it) – and that’s a shame because it’s a beautifully acted and delicately rendered piece of work. Hopkins is the title character, an elderly patriarch with Alzheimer’s, and Olivia Colman is his daughter and caretaker. But unlike most dramatizations of such a story, which would adopt the perspective of the frustrated daughter, Zeller tells the story from the father’s point-of-view, in which people, events, and timeframes are scrambled. It’s an ingenious device (the very definition of an unreliable narrator), but the structural gimmick wouldn’t work without Hopkins’ beautiful performance, which is probably the most vulnerable work he’s ever done onscreen. (Includes deleted scenes and featurettes.)
ON NETFLIX / 4K:
“My Fair Lady”: Paramount’s restoration of George Cukor’s Best Picture and Best Director winner also looks great on 4K, which captures the richness of the film’s Oscar-winning art direction, cinematography, and costume design; much like their 4K release of “The Ten Commandments” earlier this spring, it’s an ideal format for pricey roadshow movies of the “See It Big” era. But it’s not just spectacle, either; Audrey Hepburn’s charismatic turn as the Cockney-flower-girl-turned-fancy-lady at the story’s center is as entertaining and sympathetic as ever, while Rex Harrison (another Oscar winner) convincingly conveys Professor Henry Higgins’ gruff exterior, and the begrudging softness it hides. (Includes featurette, newsreel and archival footage, archival interviews, production tests, alternate Hepburn vocals, and comments by Martin Scorsese and Andrew Lloyd Webber.) (Also streaming on Netflix.)
ON 4K:
“Santa Sangre”: Alejando Jodorowsky’s 1989 sensation (out in a gorgeous new 4K edition from Severin Films) is one of his most accessible films – which is saying something about the rest of his filmography, as this is nevertheless a gleefully bizarre, darkly funny surrealist freak-show with the furious intensity of a fever dream. He tells the story of Fenix (played by his son Axel) in two parts, an extended childhood flashback, and contemporary follow-up while folding in elements of the circus, protest movements, melodrama, and movie lore. The plot isn’t exactly impenetrable, but it’s not the point either; as with the best of Jodorowsky’s work, this is a film of aesthetics, sensations, and violently beautiful imagery. (Includes audio commentary, feature-length documentary, deleted scenes, interviews, featurettes, Q&A, short film, music video, trailer, and soundtrack CD.)
“Super 8”: Before he was aping the cinema of Lucas, J.J. Abrams was paying homage to the films of Steven Spielberg – more specifically, the portraiture of ‘80s youth that Spielberg directed and produced, like “E.T.,” “Gremlins,” and “The Goonies.” Abrams wrote and directed this clever 2011 hit, and it feels personal, concerning as it does a bunch of wannabe filmmaker kids who accidentally capture something sinister with their Super 8 camera. It suffers from some of Abrams’ touchstones, but this is nevertheless an ideal iteration of what he does, capturing the innocence of youth and enthusiasm for cinema that was so embedded in the work the director is quoting. (Includes audio commentary, deleted scenes, featurettes, and Easter eggs.)
“The Final Countdown”: Blue Underground has so established its 4K brand with iconic genre titles like “Daughters of Darkness” and “Maniac” that it’s sort of surprising to see them putting out this mostly forgotten, early-‘80s mainstream studio effort. (Then again, Lloyd Kaufman is credited as associate producer.) But it’s an absolute blast, twisting the stylistic signatures of the period’s all-star disaster movies to suit this deliciously clever story of a Navy destroyer that goes through an electrical storm and lands near Pearl Harbor on December 6, 1941. Do they use what they know to save lives? Or is it too risky to completely change the course of history? The story turns are exquisite and the effects are delightfully kitschy, and the cast – which includes everyone from Spartacus to Super Fly – offers plenty of pleasurable opportunities to watch movie stars be movie stars. (Includes audio commentary, interviews, trailers and TV spots, booklet, and soundtrack CD.)
“Django”: This dark, bloody little item from director Sergio Corbucci was the second giant hit of the Spaghetti Western era, after the worldwide success of Sergio Leone’s “A Fistful of Dollars.” That film was positively sunny compared to Corbucci’s bleak Franco Nero vehicle, which was rated “for adults only,” thanks in no small part to a grisly scene in which a character’s ear is hacked off. Sound familiar? Yes, Quentin Tarantino was a fan of Django even before he made a Django film of his own — which was totally in line with the film’s legacy since it begat dozens of unofficial, in-name-only sequels in the years following its release. (Arrow’s crackerjack new 4K upgrade even includes one such faux-“Django 2,” the Nero picture “Texas Adios,” as a Blu-ray bonus feature.) And despite its low budget, “Dango” looks terrific on 4K, the high-def transfer capturing the ravages of both the vast landscapes and the colorful characters. (Also includes audio commentary, new and archival interviews, featurettes, poster, postcards, booklet, and trailers.)
“Last Action Hero”: Arnold Schwarzenegger’s 1993 attempt to go PG-13 became, for at least the two years until “Waterworld,” the industry shorthand for an out-of-control vanity production that bled red ink. And it’s not hard to see why it was rejected by audiences and critics: the kid is obnoxious, the “Purple Rose of Cairo”-riffing premise doesn’t really work, and it’s unforgivably bloated (running 130 minutes, and ending about six times). But buried inside it is an often uproarious, “Naked Gun”-style parody of the bombastic action movies of the era, delivered with a knowing wink – because after all, no one knew the tropes and clichés better than the people who invented them (not only Schwarzenegger, but director John McTiernan and co-writer Shane Black, doing an early iteration of the winking meta-textuality of “Kiss Kiss Bang Bang.”) “Last Action Hero” is mighty unsteady, because the line between parody and the real thing is so thin, but it has its moments. (Includes audio commentary, deleted and alternate scenes, alternate ending, featurette, music video, and trailer.)
ON BLU-RAY:
“Nightmare Alley”: “Lemme tell you something, kid,” he’s told, early on. “When you’ve been around this carny a little longer, you’ll learn to stop asking questions.” And Stan (Tyrone Power) does just that – listening, learning, and then, with ice-blooded precision, making his moves. Edmund Goulding’s ace 1947 film noir (getting the Criterion treatment ahead of its upcoming, Guillermo del Toro-helmed remake) delights in telling secrets, in revealing how thing work along the underbelly of show-biz, and its masterful script keeps building and twisting as Stan ascends to the top of his game – and then goes too far. Power is fantastic, a confident and gifted bullshitter, and Goulding finds the right approach to the story and these characters: wallowing along with them rather than standing aloof, forcing an identification with unsavory types that makes its closing passages all the more haunting. (Includes audio commentary, new and archival interviews, trailer, and essay by Kim Morgan.)
“Flowers of Shanghai”: Hou Hsiao-hsien’s 1998 adaptation of the 1892 dialect novel, also new to the Criterion Collection, is set entirely in the “flower houses” (brothels) of the era, and is endlessly fascinated with the mechanics of those establishments – specifically the thorny relationships between “callers” and “flower girls,” and the petty rivalries and offhand gossiping that inevitably surround them. Those aspects are compelling, but the real draw here is Hou’s style: the film is impeccably designed and staged, with each scene played in long, casually moving, unbroken takes. That pace may put off some contemporary viewers, but it’s appropriate; things play out with an almost meditative deliberateness, placing us in those rooms, and not allowing for easy exits. (Includes new introduction, featurette, archival interviews, trailer, and essay by Jean Ma.)
“The Snoopy 4-Movie Collection”: Paramount’s collection of the four original feature films based on Charles Schultz’s Peanuts gang – “A Boy Named Charlie Brown,” “Snoopy, Come Home,” “Race for Your Life, Charlie Brown,” and “Bon Voyage, Charlie Brown (and Don’t Come Back!!)” – offers the pleasures you’d expect, with colorful transfers, timeless stories, and marvelous music. But unexpectedly enough, they also tell a story about the taming of feature-length family entertainment heading into the ‘80s; “A Boy Named Charlie Brown” dates from 1969, and feels like it, augmenting the narrative sequences (which have the same texture and tone as the Peanuts TV specials of the era) with expressionistic sequences of experimental animation. Those flourishes are all gone by 1980’s “Bon Voyage,” which widens the storytelling scope, but feels boxed in by the timidity of the prevalent style. Nevertheless, all four films are well-crafted family fun, and the general audacity of the loser protagonist, even when given a Hollywood spit-shine, still feels slightly subversive. (Includes trailers and “Bon Voyage” featurette.)
“Drunken Master II”: Arguably Jackie Chan’s finest film (depending on where you land on “Supercop”), this 1994 sequel to his 1978 hit uses the thinnest layer of historical/period trappings to give us a steady stream of his remarkable fight sequences, spectacular both in terms of choreography and camera blocking. But as per usual, the key isn’t just the action, but Chan’s approach to it – with a wink and a grin, a tilt he’s allowed to indulge even more by the film’s central gimmick: that he excels most as a “drunken boxer,” in which a slight wine buzz adds to his strength and skill. In other words, it’s “Another Round” for action fans, and it remains a breezy treat – particularly with Warner Archive restoring the original version, and not the hacked-up, “Americanized” bowdlerization the Weinsteins released in 2000. (Includes trailer.)
“Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House”: Native New Yorker Cary Grant (uh huh), frustrated by the tightness of New York City apartment living (and a general sense of midlife dissatisfaction) buys a historic home in Connecticut – and the cash registers start ringing. Full disclosure: your correspondent recently moved from a Manhattan apartment to a Bronx house that keeps costing more money, so I may have connected a bit more personally with H.C. Potter’s 1948 comedy (also new on Blu from Warner Archive) than most. But that connection underscores the timeless quality of these struggles and conflicts, which get a big boost from Melvin Frank and Norman Panama’s delightfully witty screenplay, as well as the unsurprisingly charming supporting turn by Myrna Loy as his wife. (Includes radio adaptations, classic cartoon, and trailer.)
“12 Monkeys”: Arrow’s new steelbook Blu-ray release of Terry Gilliam’s pandemic thriller comes just after the picture’s 25th anniversary – and, perhaps more pointedly, towards (hopefully!) the conclusion of a real pandemic. And it certainly hits differently, what with all the deadly airborne viruses, hazmat suits, and quarantines therein. So “12 Monkeys” now seems not only visionary but prophetic; the dates and specifics of its pandemic may not match up with ours, but the emotions and psychology do. Gilliam captures not just a dystopian future, but an unstable present that seems (in ways large and small) to be careering towards inevitable, and perhaps irreparable, insanity. And even without those long shadows, it remains a banger, filled with Gilliam’s distinctive imagery, one of the first and best cuckoo-bananas Brad Pitt performances, and some of the best acting of Bruce Willis’s career. (Includes audio commentary, feature-length documentary, archival interviews, and trailer.)
“Night of the Following Day”: This 1969 thriller from co-writer/director Hubert Cornfield was part of the string of flops that made executives so reluctant to cast Marlon Brando in “The Godfather,” and it’s not hard to see why it didn’t connect with contemporary audiences or critics. But those qualities – especially the European / art-film influences on the filmmaking and the complexity of Brando’s anti-hero characterization – are part of what make it ago so well, as the kidnapping mechanics and logistics of its central plot give way to the genuine experimentation of the craft and acting. Brando is especially good in his scenes with Rita Moreno, as they flesh out a relationship with more nuance than the film may be able to contain. (Includes audio commentaries and trailers.)
“Baxter”: This 1989 French film (also new from KL) is decidedly not your typical shaggy-dog story – it’s a tale of animal savagery and prickliness, in both canines and the humans that surround them. The title character is a dead-eyed white Bull Terrier who spends the film trying to find an appropriate human companion; his first owner is a dull old lady whom he hates, and he fills the voice-over track with invective against her, spit in spiteful French. “She must learn it’s dangerous to make a creature unhappy,” he snarls, and from that point on, all bets are off; once it’s clear that co-writer/director Jérôme Boivin is willing to go there, it lends a real shot of danger to all that follows. It’s a bleak movie, even by animal horror standards, but it’s fascinating – and certainly unlike anything you’ve likely seen before or since. (Includes audio commentary and trailers.)
“Weird Wisconsin: The Bill Rebane Collection”: It’s all but impossible to calculate the value of Arrow Video’s ongoing interest in spotlighting regional genre filmmaking, from their “American Horror Project” sets to last fall’s “He Came from the Swamp: The William Grefé Collection.” Their latest is a noble addition to that tradition, with six features by Mr. Rebane, the writer/producer/director/editor/cinematographer who built his own studio out in the wilds of Wisconsin and made sci-fi movies, ghost stories, action pictures, and whatever he thought might sell. Some of them are, well, not great (one of his best-known titles is the early “Monster A Go-Go,” mostly because it screened on “Mystery Science Theater 3000”). But as with the best of low-budget regional filmmaking, his work has an unmistakable sense of enthusiasm and inventiveness, and the divide between his ambitions and his output creates a fascinating tension in these weirdly, wildly entertaining films. (Includes feature-length documentary, new interviews, early short and industrial films, featurettes, trailers, outtakes, and booklet with essays by Stephen Thrower.)