The 14 Best Movies To Buy Or Stream This Week: ‘Happiest Season,’ ‘My Psychedelic Love Story,’ ‘The Irishman,’ & More

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.

We’ve got a lot of new disc and streaming releases to sort through, thanks in no small part to the inevitable holiday season gift possibilities, which include genuine classics, ‘80s favorites, and prestige box sets (more of those here); streaming audiences can also check out a new (and controversial!) romantic comedy and a beautifully bizarre new film from one of the best documentarians in the business. Let’s take a look: 

ON HULU:
Happiest Season”: Clea DuVall’s holiday rom-com has become the most unexpectedly divisive movie of the moment, thanks to a very simple split in public perception: while the picture hinges on the happily-ever-after of Abby (Kristen Stewart) and Harper (Mackenzie Davis) after a stressful holiday week with the latter’s family – to whom she has not come out – a fair number of viewers have cried foul and insisted Abby actually should end up with Riley (Aubrey Plaza), Harper’s ex. It’s not hard to see why, since Stewart’s chemistry with Plaza is far more striking than her vibe with Davis. But this tiny controversy does speak to the trickiness of making an ensemble comedy, and whatever your beef with its resolution, this is an easygoing and enjoyable piece of work, with a fair number of laugh-out-loud lines (many courtesy of a welcome Dan Levy) and genuine poignancy, thanks primarily to Stewart’s reliably grounded naturalism.  

ON SHOWTIME:
My Psychedelic Love Story”: “It’s true, my story. It’s true. It’s very strange. It’s absolutely true.” So says Joanna Harcourt-Smith, the focus (and only interview subject) of Errol Morris’ latest documentary, and she does indeed have a wild tale to tell: of how she became, for a short time in the early 1970s, the inseparable lover and public champion of LSD guru Timothy Leary. Morris keeps the pace rapid and the visual motifs imaginative (the use of LSD drawings as illustrative device is especially inspired), but Harcourt-Smith is his key narrative asset, and he knows it; like his wonderful, underseen TV series “First Person,” this is a case of Morris pointing his camera (or cameras, many of them) at a colorful character and letting them go. It’s not must-see Morris, but like his earlier “Tabloid” (its closest cousin in the filmography), there’s much to like and recommend here. 

ON 4K:
Mad Max”: The journey of the ‘Mad Max’ series from low-budget exploitation movie (it was originally released in the U.S. by AIP!) to tentpole studio fare is a truly fascinating one, and worth diving into with this excellent new 4K upgrade of the inaugural outing from KL Studio Classics. Director George Miller makes ingenious use of his low-budget, crafting a five-minutes-into-the-future story of anarchy in the Outback, and building breathless action sequences out of sheer spit and determination. It’s so thrilling you can even maybe get past the Mel Gibson factor. (Includes audio commentary, new and archival interviews, featurettes, trailers, TV spots, radio spots, and alternate U.S. dub.)

Beverly Hills Cop”: It’s Eddie Murphy season over at Paramount, which is re-releasing, on one day, four of his classics from the 1990s – two on 4K, two on Blu-ray. Unsurprisingly, this 1984 action/comedy smash is getting the deluxe treatment, and it’s a rare ‘80s fave that holds up; a couple of unfortunate jokes aside, the action still slaps, the characters are still likable (that’s the hand of director Martin Brest, no doubt), and Murphy’s youthful electricity and charisma are still off the charts. (Includes audio commentary, deleted scenes, archival interviews, featurettes, location map, isolated score track, and trailer.)

Coming to America”: With the long-awaited sequel to Murphy’s 1988 hit finally on the way, it’s a fine time to revisit this original, which marked a real shift for the actor/producer: it was his first serious attempt at romantic comedy, and his first use of his clout at Paramount to build a film with a primarily Black cast, telling a Black story. In those regards, it succeeded (and aged) marvelously; Murphy’s soft-spoken Prince Akeem generates real warmth in his romantic subplot with Shari Headley, while he and co-star Arsenio Hall’s multiple-character sketch sidebars recall the best of Richard Pryor. It has its problems – most of them due to director John Landis, whose bland style and pokey pace drags the film when it should snap – but it remains sharp, sweet, and riotously funny. (Includes featurettes, archival interviews, and trailer.) 

ON BLU-RAY:
Essential Fellini”: The Criterion Collection’s latest must-have cinephile box set isn’t as exhaustively complete as their Agnes Varda collection (or as near-exhaustively complete as their Bergman box) – but the title is accurate, as it gathers such go-to Federico Fellini classics as “8½,” “La dolce vita,” “La strada,” “Nights of Cabiria,” and “Fellini Satyricon.” But it’s also not just the greatest hits, throwing in such less-discussed but important works as “Variety Lights,” “I Vitelloni,” and “Il bidone.” Thus these fourteen films are a sampler into one of the great cinema artists, beautifully restored and presented with the kind of thoughtful supplements you’d expect from Criterion.  

The Irishman”: Martin Scorsese’s historical epic/gangster movie death rattle hit Netflix a year ago last week, and that platform’s inherent cynicism towards physical media made some of us worry that the picture would never get the kind of bells-and-whistles release it deserved. Thankfully, Criterion’s new-ish partnership with the streaming giant means we’ve got all three-and-a-half hours in all their HD glory, as well as an excuse to revisit 2019’s best film – an alternately melancholic, funny, bitter, and beautiful look at American life, with all the troubles and contradictions that phrase contains. (Also streaming on Netflix.) (Includes interviews, featurettes, historical footage, trailers, a video essay by Farran Smith Nehme, and an essay by Geoffrey O’Brien.)

Crash”: JG Ballard found the ideal interpreter of his pointed prose in David Cronenberg, who turned one of the writer’s trickiest works into one of his most controversial films with this 1996 drama (new on Blu from Criterion). Plenty have dismissed the narrative as off-putting and Cronenberg’s approach as anticeptic, but that’s its genius; in stripping down sexuality itself into a collection of kinks and tics, Cronenberg (and Ballard) are asking who among us have “normal” sexual drives and interests, and what that even means in this day and age. Marvelous performances across the board, with James Spader (who else?) serving as the ideal tour guide. (Includes audio commentary, archival interviews and press conference, trailers, and an essay by Jessica Kiang.)

Popeye”: When Paramount, Disney, and super-producer Robert Evans teamed up in 1980 to make a film version of Popeye and hired Robert Altman, they somehow seemed shocked when he handed in… a Robert Altman movie. But his stylistic flourishes, which alienated a fair number of viewers and critics 40 years ago, are what now make the picture (debuting this week on Blu-ray) so special; it has a messiness that was, and remains, all too rare in big-budget filmmaking. His frames are busy and vibrant and full of life; his staging is eccentric and slapstick silly; he weaves the off-kilter songs by Harry Nilsson into the fabric, rather than stopping the show; and his performers are all part of a sideshow ensemble, particularly Shelley Duvall (magnificent as Olive Oyl) and Robin Williams as the title character, mumbling malapropisms under his breath like a seafaring W.C. Fields. (Includes featurettes.)

Trading Places”: Two more Eddie Murphy movies join the “Paramount Presents” collection, including this 1983 winner, Murphy’s second big-screen appearance and first collaboration with “Coming to America” director John Landis. He is, again, an unapologetic scene-stealer as Billy Ray Valentine, a street hustler whose life and opportunities are swapped with rich prick Louis Winthrope III (Dan Aykroyd) as part of a bet between the wealthy Duke brothers (Don Ameche and Ralph Bellamy). Landis wisely realizes these are the makings of a screwball comedy, and pitches the picture accordingly – it moves like a shot, every character gets a moment to shine, and every performance (Jamie Lee Curtis! Can’t forget Jamie Lee Curtis!) is a winner. (Includes featurettes, deleted scene, an isolated score, and trailer.) 

The Golden Child”: The last of this week’s Murphy quartet is the weakest of the bunch, a 1986 comic adventure that crosses the vibes of “Beverly Hills Cop” with director Michael Ritchie’s previous film “Fletch,” with generous helpings of the Indiana Jones movies tossed in for good measure. If that sounds like pure ‘80s packaged filmmaking, it is – down to the notion that throwing a weak script at Eddie Murphy will automatically make a movie a winner. Yet it’s somehow still a fun watch, reveling in its ‘80s cheese and Murphy’s wry charm (Roger Ebert called him “a hip Bob Hope” in this one, and that’s the right spirit), and Charles Dance makes a terrific foil. (Includes featurette and trailer.)

Continental Divide”: The recent – and excellent – documentary “Belushi” offers up this 1981 vehicle (new on Blu from KL) as a coulda-been situation; John Belushi took on the role of a hard-boiled, chain-smoking, Royko-style Chicago newspaperman as a chance to show off his acting chops, and stretch into a role that wasn’t a variation on Bluto Blutarsky or Jake Blues. And he succeeded; it’s a lovely performance, full of believable moments of fast-talking and faster thinking, as this tough guy is sent into the Colorado Rockies to interview a press-shy eagle researcher (Blair Brown). Screenwriter Lawrence Kasdan is clearly doing a Hepburn and Tracy riff, pairing up the outdoors-y tough dame and the gruff man of the city, and watching opposites attract. Michael Apted’s direction isn’t quite light-footed enough to pull it off, but it’s nevertheless a joy to watch Belushi and Brown work. (Includes audio commentary and trailer.) 

The Lost Weekend”: Billy Wilder’s searing portrait of a (barely) functioning alcoholic, released in 1945, was the template for the contemporary addiction drama, jettisoning the hysterics of “Reefer Madness” and “Cocaine Fiends” for sensitive character drama and psychological insight. Ray Milland is astonishing in the title role, conveying the surface dedication and underlying panic of the character’s struggle, and finding the varying ways in which everyone in his orbit tries to cope with it. It still veers occasionally into the land of melodrama, but that’s forgivable; the truth at the heart of this one still rings loud and clear. (Includes audio commentary, radio adaptation, and trailers.)

The Other Side of Madness”: The biggest surprise of the week may well be this 50th-anniversary release of Frank Howard’s one and only directorial effort, more widely known under the later title “The Helter Skelter Murders” – and, yes, inspired by the Manson Family reign of terror in 1969, a mere year before the film’s original release. But if you’re expecting cheap “Manson-ploitation,” you won’t find it here; shot in tabloid-style black-and-white, “Madness” is genuinely stylish, abstracted (almost expressionistic) in its approach, lifting a page from the likes of “The Honeymoon Killers” and “In Cold Blood.” Alternating between courtroom scenes, flashbacks to Family life (including scenes shot on Spahn Ranch), and wide-lensed dramatizations of Manson’s wild visions, the film’s most affecting stretch is its conclusion; in a strange way, the meticulously, slavishly detailed reenactment of the Tate murders deglamorizes them, focusing on the messiness and ugliness of these crimes, and in the process, centering on the humanity of the victims. And that, friends, is the last thing you expect from an exploitation movie. (Includes new interviews, trailers, and CD featuring Manson songs.)