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 weekly column sifts through all of those choices to pluck out the movies most worth your time, no matter how you’re watching.
This week is another busy one: Two gigantic winter hits, two of 2019’s top-shelf indies, a quick Kelly Reichardt refresher, two must-have new Criterions, a 4K upgrade for a classic dad movie, and a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it Netflix original.
Let’s begin!
ON NETFLIX:
“The Last Thing He Wanted”: Netflix is basically dumping Dee Rees’ adaptation of Joan Didion’s novel, following scathing notices at its Sundance premiere, and that’s a shame. As the writer of one of its few good reviews, I maintain that it’s worth at least a curiosity stream. It’s a bit of a mess, sure – but it’s also compelling, energetic, and well-acted, finding one of our most intriguing filmmakers all but flinging herself outside of her comfort zone. Anne Hathaway is terrific in the leading role, matching her tight-fisted voice-overs with a striking physicality, Willem Dafoe is wonderfully eccentric (which is to say, he’s Willem Dafoe), and while Toby Jones shows up far too late, he’s still a hoot.
ON AMAZON PRIME:
“Meek’s Cutoff”: Just in time for the rollout of “First Cow,” Prime has added Kelly Reichardt’s earlier minimalist frontier drama – and, like much of her work, it’s a film that requires patience and perseverance, unfolding in long, leisurely, loose takes, often without dialogue or explicit exposition. But that doesn’t mean it’s not involving; if anything, quite the contrary, as we find ourselves drawn into the rituals and routines of frontier life. The cast is uniformly excellent, but the standout is Reichardt’s frequent collaborator Michelle Williams, who wears the toll of this journey (and this life) on her tough, hardened features and in her stubborn, disappointed vocal inflections.
ON 4K / BLU-RAY / DVD / VOD:
“Knives Out”: Rian Johnson’s hit whodunit is one of those films that leaves you breathless at the sheer grace of its existence – it’s so meticulously written (as a mystery, it’s airtight and ingenious, a Swiss watch), and so precisely directed (Johnson simultaneously orchestrates of camera, pacing, tone, and his stacked cast like a plate spinner on the old “Ed Sullivan Show”) that it would be easy to write off as a simple contraption, an entertainment and little else. Yet, he fills the margins with tiny moments of empathy and humanity, and little sideways gags and winks; there isn’t a moment here that hasn’t been worked through, inside and out, yet it still bursts with spontaneity and life. What a treat this movie is. (Includes audio commentaries, deleted scenes, featurettes, Q&A, and trailers.)
“Frozen II”: Confession time—when this viewer first took in the sequel to Disney’s 2013 smash, I didn’t think much of it. The narrative is strained, I announced, the backstory doesn’t hold water, and the songs are forgettable. And it’s not that those criticism are incorrect – it’s that after taking the film in several dozen additional times, thanks to the viewing habits of small children, its charms have become clearer. The animation is gorgeous, shading in the first film’s world and exploring new realms with equal artistry; the relationships are more nuanced, particularly the Christoph-Anna dynamic; and, well, I guess I was wrong about the songs.
ON 4K:
“The Hunt for Red October”: John McTiernan’s 1989 hit is mostly remembered as the kickoff to the Jack Ryan franchise, but it’s worth recontextualizing within that career. He made the picture as his follow-up to “Die Hard,” which itself followed “Predator” – a prime example of ‘80s indestructible action hero machismo, followed by two films that made a point of deconstructing that archetype. Alec Baldwin’s Ryan isn’t a man of action, and he doesn’t even want a gun; he’s a desk jockey, an egghead analyst, but he keeps getting right what all the four-star generals get wrong. McTiernan mounts the action beats with aplomb – the craftsmanship is crisp, and the skill with which he juggles and intercuts the narrative threads cannot be overvalued – but the most suspenseful scene in the picture involves a series of message exchanges. And that’s because, like the best thrillers, ‘Red October’ is about behavior, and about a hero whose skill lies not in firing an uzi, but in interpreting the enemy’s actions, and anticipating what they’ll do next. (Includes audio commentary, featurette, and the theatrical trailer.)
ON BLU-RAY / DVD / VOD:
“Synonyms”: Israeli writer-director Nadav Lapid’s third feature (after “Policeman” and the original “Kindergarten Teacher”) brings an absurdist sensibility and dry visual wit to a story of an Israeli ex-pat settling in Paris and trying to puzzle out an identity, all the while taking full advantage of the kindness of strangers; in some ways, it’s like Lapid decided to take “Down and Out in Beverly Hills” back to France. The balancing act between slapstick and social commentary seems impossible, and the potentially incendiary political content often feels like watching someone play with a loaded gun. Yet Lapid somehow makes it all work, deftly hopscotching between tones and styles, and Tom Mercier is a revelation as the figure at the story’s center, who turns out to be less simple than he seems. (Includes festival Q&A, interview, and trailer.)
“Frankie”: Movies can do a great many things: make us laugh, make us feel, make us cry. But not many movies let us hang out with Isabelle Huppert on a sunny afternoon in Portugal, so thank goodness this one does. The director is Ira Sachs, co-writing with Mauricio Zacharias, and the set-up is simple: Frankie (Huppert) has summoned her family to join her at a pivotal moment in all of their lives. It’s a purposefully light plot; this is mostly a film of observation and enjoyment, capturing the richness of mother/daughter dynamics, romantic missteps, and looming mortality. It’s a lovely little movie, luminously photographed by the great Rui Poças. (Includes Q&A and trailer.)
ON BLU-RAY:
“Three Fantastic Journeys by Karel Zeman”: Czech filmmaker Zeman’s magnificently hand-crafted adventure films were less narrative features than living storybooks and playsets; his influence on the likes of Wes Anderson and (especially) Terry Gilliam is undeniable, and not just because the latter made a Baron Munchausen movie too. This gorgeous three-disc set from Criterion – with each disc accompanied by its own pop-up – collects three of his best films: “Voyage to the Beginning of Time,” a boys’ adventure story with stop-motion prehistoric animals, jungle adventures, and more; “Invention for Destruction,” a seafaring tale full of pirate ships and underground cities; and the cheerfully theatrical “The Fabulous Baron Munchausen,” the best of the bunch. That Zeman could both influence so many and show so many influences – Jules Verne books, Saturday serials, Georges Méliès – is an informative testament to the cyclical nature of popular storytelling, and these three films feel like a crucial (and, for many American audiences, missing) piece in the history of fantasy film. (Includes featurettes, early short films, documentaries, restoration demonstrations, trailers, essay by Michael Atkinson, and U.S. release version of “Voyage to the Beginning of Time.”)
“Paris Is Burning”: “You go in there, and you feel 100% right.” So says one of the subjects of Jennie Livingston’s Sundance Grand Jury Prize winner, neatly summarizing the pull of New York’s late ‘80s drag ball culture – a scene often populated by people whose families had disowned them and whose peers had shunned them, but who found a new and beautiful family in this community. And that’s ultimately why this documentary portrait (a new addition to the Criterion Collection) connects so fiercely, no matter who is watching: it’s not just a film about “living the fantasy” of stardom and glamor, but about living your truth, with no apologies. (Includes audio commentary, outtakes, featurette, archival television appearance, trailer, and an essay by Michelle Parkerson.)
