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, catalogue titles making a splash on Blu-ray or 4K. This twice-monthly 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 round-up of new disc and streaming releases includes two of the year’s most striking genre movies, along with new releases from Criterion and Vinegar Syndrome, a handful of classic and international exploitation movies, and a 4K release for an antiwar classic:
PICK OF THE WEEK:
“Paths of Glory”: KL Studio Classics continues their welcome series of early Stanley Kubrick on 4K with this crisply rendered restoration of this 1957 masterpiece – his first war movie, boasting one of Kirk Douglas’ finest performances. He stars as Colonel Dax, charged with leading a suicide mission during WWI that proves disastrous for all involved – and then defending three men, selected seemingly at random, to face death for cowardice and mutiny. The early sequences, leading up to the failed mission, are a potent mix of excitement and dread, anchored by the picture’s deservedly famous foxhole tracking shots. But the film is most noteworthy for the unblinking honesty of its storytelling; this is a merciless and unforgettable indictment of the barbarism and amorality of war. (Includes audio commentary and trailer.)
ON BLU-RAY / DVD / VOD:
“Crimes of the Future”: David Cronenberg’s return to the big screen, eight long years after “Maps to the Stars,” feels like something of a victory lap; he’s recycling the title of one of his earliest films and returning to the themes and visual motifs that made his name. And y’know what? He’s earned it. The bulk of its running time is on a slow boil, as he slathers the frame with mood and dread and nightmare imagery, but he never seems to reach for effects or try to shock. Viggo Mortensen remains the platonic ideal of a Cronenberg lead and Léa Seydoux does “Crash”-style creepy sensuality like it’s second nature, but the standout here is Kristen Stewart, whose mannered, weirdo turn as a creepy little bureaucrat is unforgettable. (Includes featurette and trailers.)
“The Black Phone”: Scott Derrickson’s latest seems very much like a “back to basics” effort, a return to Blumhouse-produced, “Sinister”-style R-rated horror (complete with an Ethan Hawke reunion) after the director and his writing partner’s sojourn in Marvel-land for “Doctor Strange.” And while it doesn’t always work – it often feels like a notebook of compelling visual and narrative ideas that never quite fit together, that can’t quite manage to coalesce into coherence – it’s nevertheless a well-crafted slab of throwback horror, with a handful of effective sequences, taut moments of suspense, and a sibling relationship that we haven’t seen before. And while Hawke is clearly having a very good time playing a very nasty man, the most chilling performance in the picture may well be Jeremy Davies as an angry, abusive, alcoholic father, the kind of monster that’s less common in movies, but omnipresent in real life. (Including audio commentary, deleted scenes, featurette, and short film.)
“Faya Dayi”: “I heard someone say that when people get high, they start watching films in their mind.” So goes a line of dialogue that also serves as a mission statement for Jessica Beshir’s 2021 Sundance favorite, a gorgeous documentary exploration of the social and religious rituals tied to khat chewing in the Ethiopian city of Harar. It’s not a narrative-heavy work, though Bashir subtly gathers its seemingly disparate threads, masterfully, in the closing passages. It’s more of a tone poem, an assemblage of lyrical dialogue and images (Criterion’s transfer is a pi), the kind of movie you just let wash over you – and, often, play again as soon as it ends. (Includes audio commentary, short films, trailer, and an essay by Yasmina Price.)
“Hearts Beat Loud”: There’s a wonderful moment early in this warm-hearted comedy/drama in which record store owner Frank Fisher (Nick Offerman) is waiting for his order at the neighborhood bakery when, to his wide-eyed amazement, the song he recorded with his daughter Sam (Kiersey Clemons) starts playing over the speakers. “You guys, this is my band!” he exclaims to no one in particular; it’s a lovely beat, though one it’s hard to imagine anyone carrying off as charmingly as Offerman. Writer/director Brett Haley specializes in personality pieces – his earlier films include “I’ll See You in My Dreams” and “The Hero” – and ‘Hearts’ taps nicely into Offerman’s very specific, sensitive-burly-dude appeal. The picture is much more about the sweetness of his relationship with Clemons (and hers with new girlfriend Sasha Lane) than any particular plot or conflict, and that’s fine; it’s a lovely late-summer hang-out movie, nothing more, nothing less. (Includes audio commentaries, interviews, musical performance, band rehearsal footage, featurettes, trailer, and essay by B.J. Colangelo.)
ON 4K:
“The Incredible Melting Man”: It’s not every day that a “Mystery Science Theater 3000” favorite gets a stand-alone 4K upgrade, but Vinegar Syndrome is not every home video company, now is it? And in this case, it’s more than justified – whatever your complaints about the writing or acting of William Sachs’ 1977 creature feature, one cannot deny the skill of then-up-and-coming make-up master Rick Baker’s work in the film, rendering that title character’s conundrum in all its icky, convincing glory. The 4K restoration, from the original camera negative, maintains that illusion; unlike your cheapo CGI, these practical effects will put your jaw on the floor. And the movie’s fun too. (Includes audio commentary, new and archival interviews, and trailer.)
ON BLU-RAY:
“Daddy Longlegs”: The Safdie Brothers return to the Criterion Collection with their 2009 breakthrough feature, a micro-budget journey into Cassavetes territory (in both characterization and aesthetics). Their focus is Lenny (Ronald Bronstein), a wildly irresponsible movie theater projectionist and divorced dad who’s taking his kids, against his ex-wife’s wishes, for a couple of weeks in the summer. It’s occasionally heartwarming but more often harrowing, as Lenny exhibits several spells of less-than-stellar judgment that truly feel like they could take the story sideways. It’s even more alienating than their later works, but if you can take 99 minutes of Lenny, it’s not hard to see the seeds of the Safdies’ considerable talent. (Includes new and archival interviews, archival documentary, behind-the-scenes program, short film, deleted scenes, trailer, and essay by Stephane Delorme.)
“Frownland”: “Longlegs” leading man Bronstein is a filmmaker himself, mostly collaborating with the Safdies on the screenplays for the subsequent efforts. His sole directorial effort is this no-budget 2007 picture, also new to the Criterion Collection, for which the catchall phrase “cringe comedy” seems too mild a description. It’s a feature-length journey to the limits of the “lovable loser” trope, giving us an aggressively unlikable protagonist (Dore Mann) who spends the film pushing buttons and engaging in the smallest, saddest hustles imaginable. It’s certainly not a pleasant experience, but it’s not a forgettable one either, and Mann creates the kind of raw, unvarnished characterization that most actors wouldn’t dare concoct. (Includes deleted scenes, introduction and interview with Bronstein, and essay by Richard Brody.)
“Buck and the Preacher”: This 1972 vehicle for Harry Belafonte and Sidney Poitier sounds like a jaunty Western romp, a Black “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.” But it’s rooted in real pain and struggle, a post-Civil War story of Black wagon trains attempting to find a new life out West, against all odds (including the pursuit of men hired by furious plantation owners). Yet the picture also doesn’t topple under the weight of its own importance; Poitier, making his feature directorial debut (taking over for Joseph Sargent), displays a light touch throughout, and orchestrates his muscular, energetic action sequences with ease. (Includes new and archival interviews, behind-the-scenes footage, and essay by Aisha Harris.)
“Hotel du Nord”: Marcel Carné’s 1938 drama is set at the titular working-class hotel, but it’s more like a boarding house, where the long-term residents know each other (and each other’s business). In walk two sad, desperate lovers, who have “nothing in this world but our love,” bound by a suicide pact that goes sideways, and badly. It sounds like a dour bit of business, but Carné directs with a light hand, weaving in moments of slyly ribald humor and magic realism, with the help of a top-notch ensemble cast. (Includes interview, archival documentary, trailer, and essay by Edward Baron Turk.)
“Coming Apart”: There’s something downright jarring about coming to know Rip Torn in the ‘90s, via his grumpy but affable comic work on “The Larry Sanders Show,” only to discover what a furious force of nature he was in his earlier years. His notorious turn in Norman Mailer’s “Maidstone” is one of the best examples; this scorching 1969 drama from writer/director Milton Moses Ginsberg is another. Decades ahead of its time, “Coming Apart” is essentially a psychological drama in the form of a found footage film, with Torn as a philandering psychiatrist who uses a hidden camera in his office to film his various sexual adventures, and then their emotional fallout. It’s raw and relentless and extremely R-rated, with Torn and his co-stars (particularly the incredible Sally Kirkland) holding nothing back from the unblinking camera. (Includes additional Ginsberg feature “KRON: Along the Avenue of Time,” short film, new and archival interviews, Rip Torn memorial excerpt, and trailer.)
“Running Out of Time Collection”: Johnnie To’s 1999 action thriller “Running Out of Time” is something of a “Heat” in miniature, a stylishly executed cat-and-mouse game between a smart cop (Lau Ching-wan) and a smarter crook (Andy Lau) – or, as perpetually obstructive Chief Inspector Wong (Benz Hui) puts it, “Lunatic meets lunatic.” To keeps the action taut and the plotting unpredictable, and brings it all to an impossibly satisfying conclusion. The 2001 sequel “Running Out of Time 2,” which To co-directed with Law Wing-cheung, is less successful, failing to match the tight narrative efficiency of the original. But in its best moments, it works as its own, semi-goofy thing; the returning Ching-wan is its biggest asset, particularly when generating unexpected heat with co-star Kelly Lin. (Includes audio commentaries, archival interviews and featurettes, and theatrical trailers.)
“The Films of Doris Wishman: The Moonlight Years”: We barely had time to digest the marvelous excesses of AGFA and Something Weird’s previous Wishman collection – and it somehow makes sense, by the way, that they’re working their way backward – before being blessed with another three-disc, nine-movie collection of her low-budget sexploitation efforts, these running from 1965 to 1969. It was a period of transition for Wishman, with the introduction of sync sound and real nudity to her arsenal, and she made the best of them, while maintaining her delight in the teasing and winking of early softcore. The gem of the bunch, of course, is her immortal “Bad Girls Go To Hell,” which doubles as the set’s mission statement, and it is as desperate, odd, and grimy as ever (and how’s about that ending). (Includes audio commentaries, theatrical trailers, and booklet essay by Lisa Petrucci.)
“Natural Enemies”: You may think you’ve seen bleak ‘70s cinema, but few films of the era are quite as grim and unforgiving as this 1979 drama from writer/director Jeff Kanew, adapting Julius Horowitz’s novel. Hal Holbrook plays against his usual, affable type as a successful magazine publisher and family man who wakes up one morning certain of only one thing: that at the end of the day he will kill his wife, his children, and himself. Kanew follows him throughout his last day on earth as he contemplates (but never questions) his decision, and sees the story through with a grim certainty that matches his protagonist. It sounds like a slog, but the performances – particularly by Holbrook and Louise Fletcher as his frightened wife – are powerful, and the picture’s chilly tone casts an undeniable spell. (Includes audio commentary, introduction and interview with Kanew, alternate ending, theatrical trailer, and essay by – full disclosure – yours truly.)
“Hot Snake / Guns and Guts”: They never really came up with a nickname that stuck for the Mexican Westerns of the ‘60s and ‘70s the way “Spaghetti Western” did for Italian productions (though, all things considered, that might be for the best). But this new double-feature from Vinegar Syndrome makes the case that those across-the-border oaters could be just as grisly and grimy as their Italian counterparts. Fernando Duran Rojas’ “Hot Snake” is a real dirt-on-the-ground, blood-on-the-lens situation, a deliriously sleazy title that boosts its entertaining scuzziness with a healthy dose of the supernatural. But “Guns and Guts,” from exploitation mainstay Rene Cardona Jr., is a real find, as an outlaw, a hired gun, and a scorned husband team up, for revenge and spite, to take out the man they all despise, and their bond of scumbag camaraderie is strangely affecting. Add in a ruthless, bullet-ridden, Peckinpah-inspired final shoot-out, and you’ve got a real buried treasure for ‘70s Western fans. (Includes interview.)
“Forgotten Gialli Vol. 5”: Vinegar Syndrome continues their exhaustive series of lesser-known Italian black-gloved thrillers with this trio of stylish ‘70s proto-slashers, this one noteworthy for its collection of one-and-dones – three films from directors who only took one crack at the genre. Romano Scavolini’s “A White Dress for Marialé” and Edoardo Mulargia and Giampaolo Lomi’s “Tropic of Cancer,” both from 1972, find their filmmakers putting their own spin on the familiar tropes, but the best of the bunch is Spaghetti Western director Ferdinando Baldi’s 1977 “Ten Little Indians” riff, “Nine Guests for a Crime,” which boasts a killer cast and a memorable score by Carlo Savina. (Includes interviews, deleted scenes, trailers, and audio essays by Rachael Nisbet.)