FILM FRENZY

Leonardo DiCaprio and Jack Nicholson in The Departed (Photo: Warner)

By Matt Brunson

(View From The Couch is a weekly column that reviews what’s new on Blu-ray, 4K and DVD. Ratings are on a four-star scale.)

THE BEEKEEPER (2024). Give The Beekeeper credit for knowing exactly how to manipulate the audience from the get-go. Many revenge yarns have the protagonist going after terrorists or mobsters or street punks or corrupt cops, but this film provides us with something far more fresh: computer scammers, high-tech sleazebags who use their phishing skills to empty the bank accounts of the most vulnerable among us. Kill them all! That appears to be the initial direction and directive taken by the film, as a kindly old lady (Phylicia Rashad) commits suicide after seeing her accounts emptied of two million dollars, and her tenant, a beekeeper named Adam Clay (Jason Statham), uses his skills as a former government agent to destroy those responsible. As someone whose own Alzheimer’s-afflicted in-law had been duped by cyber-scumbags, the thought of Statham eviscerating these crooks for 105 minutes sounded like a winning proposition, a Death Wish for the Bitcoin generation. Unfortunately, the more the story unfolds, the more convoluted it gets, and the simple cathartic pleasures of the first half eventually get replaced with a series of laborious, shrug-inducing developments. The primary villain is 28-year-old Derek Danforth (Josh Hutcherson), a wealthy wastrel whose mother is the U.S. President (Jemma Redgrave as the most charisma-free POTUS imaginable). After burning down the responsible call center, Adam learns that the scam goes all the way to the top, so he sets out on his self-appointed mission, all the while yammering about bees and hives and other metaphorical stretches. Statham is somehow even more stolid than usual, but he does vengeance very well — focus more on his killing-machine credentials and less on the conspiracy-theory crapola, and a decent time might be had.

There are no extras in the 4K + Digital Code edition.

Movie: ★★½

THE CAT AND THE CANARY (1927). While The Old Dark House might logically seem like the grandfather of all “old dark house” terror tales, that 1932 classic (made by director James Whale and star Boris Karloff a year after their Frankenstein triumph) was actually preceded by a silent hit that itself was based on a 1922 Broadway play. After a remarkable opening sequence that finds director Paul Leni fully tapping into his German expressionism roots (he was but one of the many filmmakers during that period that Hollywood imported from that country), The Cat and the Canary focuses on a group of relatives gathered at an isolated estate for the reading of a will. The sole benefactor, the sweet Annabelle (Laura La Plante), will lose everything if she’s declared insane, so strange things begin happening to her that force the others to doubt her sanity. Contributing to everyone’s unease is the report that an escaped lunatic nicknamed the Cat is believed to be on the premises. The story might be on the creaky side, but Leni does everything in his power to make it pop, from shot selections that would prove to be highly influential to future filmmakers to making select title cards quiver and shake as if they had been frightened by the proceedings. There’s plenty of humor on tap as well, and I was tickled that, as in the play, one of the creepiest characters, the housekeeper (Martha Mattox), has the incongruous name of Mammy Pleasant. The Cat and the Canary was remade several times, most famously as the 1939 hit starring Bob Hope and Paulette Goddard.

Blu-ray extras include a pair of film historian audio commentaries; a video essay; extracts from the original 1922 stage production; and an ad featuring Leni hawking Lucky Strike cigarettes.

Movie: ★★★½

THE DEPARTED (2006). With so many genuine classics under his belt, Martin Scorsese’s Best Director Oscar for The Departed always seemed like a better-late-than-never honor among discerning cineastes, as the movie is a solid addition to his filmography yet hardly ranks in the upper echelons. A remake of the excellent 2002 Hong Kong import Infernal Affairs, this boasts that movie’s ingenious premise: A lawman (Leonardo DiCaprio) goes undercover and infiltrates the inner circle of a crime lord (Jack Nicholson) while a mob underling (Matt Damon) simultaneously works his way up through the ranks of the police department. Neither informant knows the other’s identity, prompting both men to feverishly work to uncover the plant on the other side of the fence. Given that powerhouse punch of a scenario, it’s not surprising that Scorsese elected to rework someone else’s property while also embellishing it with his own distinctive style. The expected violence and vulgarity are pitched at operatic levels, and they occasionally verge on overkill. But weighty issues of identity, duplicity, and deception remain constants, and, while Nicholson begins the film as a terrifying villain but winds down as a raving buffoon, the other stars shine throughout. DiCaprio is coiled and edgy, Damon alternates between charismatic and creepy, and Mark Wahlberg, stealing the show as a profane detective, somehow turns surliness into an endearing character trait. This scored five Oscar nominations (including Best Supporting Actor for Wahlberg) and won four: Best Picture, Director, Adapted Screenplay (William Monahan), and Film Editing. (DiCaprio earned a Best Actor nomination that year for Blood Diamonds, but he’s better here.)

Extras in the 4K + Digital Code SteelBook Edition include a retrospective making-of piece and deleted scenes.

Movie: ★★★

DRIVE-AWAY DOLLS (2024). The last time a Coen dusted off an old idea that had been languishing in a moth-filled closet, the result was the awful 2017 satire Suburbicon (reviewed here), directed by George Clooney from a script that had been written back in 1986 by both Joel and Ethan. Drive-Away Dolls, conceived by Ethan and his wife Tricia Cooke approximately 20 years ago, is far more tolerable, even if it also has trouble maintaining the right comedic frequency. Billed during the end credits as Drive-Away Dykes, this finds the extroverted and sexually promiscuous Jamie (Margaret Qualley, daughter of Andie MacDowell) and the introverted and sexually inexperienced Marian (Geraldine Viswanathan) embarking on a road trip to Tallahassee. They end up renting a car that was meant to be picked up by a trio of crooks (Rustin Oscar nominee Colman Domingo, Joey Slotnick, and C.J. Wilson), one whose trunk contents include a mysterious suitcase as well as the detached head of a collector (a certain Mandalorian star in a small role). Unaware of the criminals in hot pursuit, Jamie and Marian leisurely make their way to Florida, with Jamie insisting they hit as many lesbian bars as possible along the way. Cooke identifies as gay, so this isn’t just some hetero filmmaker playing tourist (or Peeping Tom) — its LGBTQ content is both genuine and sincere, and many of its finest scenes feed off this (I particularly liked how a girls’ soccer team handles the pursuers). But the film has a slapdash quality that was better handled in select joint-Coen projects like The Big Lebowski and Hail, Caesar!, and much of the dialogue and some of the situations are purely puerile, better suited to some lame ‘80s teen sex comedy.

Blu-ray extras include a behind-the-scenes featurette and a discussion with Coen and Cooke.

Movie: ★★½

FLETCH (1985) / FLETCH LIVES (1989). Back in the early 1980s, MAD ran a humorous article suggesting locations where the U.S. military could hide its arsenal of nuclear weapons without fear of discovery. One of the places cited was a drive-in movie theater showing a Chevy Chase film festival, especially amusing to those who recall the bombs this actor starred in during this early portion of his career. Fletch, however, remains a bright spot, a genial comedy adapted from Gregory McDonald’s best-selling novel. Chase stars as the title character, an investigative reporter who eventually discovers that his latest assignment, an expose of the drug trade flourishing on the local beaches, neatly dovetails with the bizarre request made by a local millionaire (Tim Matheson), who has asked that Fletch murder him for insurance reasons. Before cracking the case, though, Fletch must don a series of costumes in order to pass himself off as wacky characters with names like John Cocktoastin, Baba au Rum, and Ted Nugent. In true ’80s style, there are the “big hair” women (played by Dana Wheeler-Nicholson and an up-and-coming Geena Davis), a Harold Faltermeyer score that basically rips off his own Beverly Hills Cop theme, a cameo by a sports star (here, L.A. Lakers legend Kareem Abdul-Jabbar), and plenty of choice quips (“You using the whole fist, doc?”) tossed off with panache by one of the original Not Ready for Prime-Time Players. Fletch was one of three Chase releases in what proved to be a great year for the comedian at the box office, with Spies Like Us landing at #10 for ’85, Fletch at #12, and National Lampoon’s European Vacation at #14.

Fletch was directed by Michael Ritchie (The Bad News Bears) and written by Andrew Bergman (The In-Laws); Ritchie returns for Fletch Lives, but Bergman, alas, does not. In this one, Fletch inherits a dilapidated mansion in Louisiana, so he leaves the comforts of Los Angeles for the wilds of the Deep South; there, he encounters the Ku Klux Klan, good ole boy deputies, a sleazy televangelist (R. Lee Ermey), a folksy lawyer (Hal Holbrook), and a caretaker (Cleavon Little) who’s doubtless sharper than he appears. Fletch Lives is a disappointing sequel to the ’85 hit, with a drowsy murder-mystery at its center and obvious satiric targets that are impossible to miss (although seeing Little tangle with the KKK brings back memories of his starring role in Blazing Saddles). There are a few funny exchanges — “What’s your name?” asks Fletch. “Bend over,” orders a burly cellmate (Randall “Tex” Cobb) as he unbuckles his pants. “Ben? Nice to meet you. I’m Victor Hugo.” — but not enough to make this sloppy comedy anything more than a missed opportunity.

Blu-ray extras on both titles (sold separately) include entertainment journalist audio commentary; a making-of featurette; and the theatrical trailer.

Fletch: ★★★

Fletch Lives: ★★

HIGH NOON (1952). A favorite of several U.S. presidents (including Reagan and Clinton) yet detested by (among others) John Wayne and François Truffaut, High Noon has long been hailed as one of the greatest Westerns ever made. Yet as several film scholars have noted, it’s a movie disliked by many cineastes who otherwise love Westerns, with a primary gripe being that it’s a social drama only masquerading as an oater. I’ve always enjoyed the film but also find it overrated, although the social drama isn’t the reason: In fact, the film’s standing as an allegory for the Communist witch hunts paralyzing Hollywood at the time is one of the most interesting things about it. Writer Carl Foreman, who would shortly become a victim of the blacklist, teamed with director Fred Zinnemann to craft this tight (85 minutes) tale about sheriff Will Kane (Gary Cooper in the iconic role first offered to Wayne and Gregory Peck), who, minutes after his wedding and retirement, learns that an old enemy has been released from jail and is returning to join three others in gunning him down. Since the town owes Kane for cleaning up its lawlessness years earlier, he figures rounding up a posse won’t be a problem; unfortunately, no one is willing to stand by his side. High Noon unfolds largely in real time, but it’s the film’s brevity that prevents it from soaring, since the stripped-down narrative allows only the widest of brush strokes when it comes to painting the characters and their situations. Cooper’s performance is masterful, however. Nominated for seven Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Director, and Screenplay, this won four: Best Actor, Film Editing, Original Score (Dimitri Tiomkin), and Original Song for “High Noon (Do Not Forsake Me, Oh My Darlin’).”

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray edition include film historian audio commentary; a making-of featurette; and a piece on the blacklist.

Movie: ★★★

INVADERS FROM MARS (1986). The 1953 version of Invaders From Mars received a terrific 4K edition two years ago, and the film itself (reviewed here) remains an entertaining watch. It’s certainly miles ahead of this hapless remake from the jokers who also gave the world Bolero, Firewalker, and Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo. Produced by Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus through their Cannon Pictures, this finds young David Gardner (Hunter Carson) trying to convince the adults around him that a Martian spaceship has landed in his backyard and its extra-terrestrials are taking control of all humans. David’s parents (Timothy Bottoms and Laraine Newman) and a crabby schoolteacher (Louise Fletcher) are among the first to fall victim, and David soon discovers that the only person who believes him (sort of) is the school nurse (Karen Black). Black was one of this country’s finest actresses back in the 1970s — Five Easy Pieces; nuff said — so the fact that Carson is her real-life son reveals the adage of the apple not falling far from the tree to be a complete lie. Carson’s dreadful performance is largely what prevents Invaders From Mars from even having a fighting chance right out of the gate, as the only thing missing from his overripe emoting is a Pacino-esque “Hoo-ah!” to punctuate the night air. Yet also sharing the blame is Tobe Hooper, the wildly inconsistent director whose work here ranks among his worst. The aliens created by Stan Winston are comical enough, yet Hooper indulges in overkill by turning the entire picture into a jokey enterprise that’s ofttimes embarrassing to watch. Invaders From Mars turned out to be a colossal flop during the summer of ’86, as audiences wisely elected to satisfy their thirst for sci-fi with the same season’s Aliens.

There are no Blu-ray extras.

Movie: ★½

TORMENTED (1960). It’s fitting that writer-director Bert I. Gordon’s initials were B.I.G., since many of his efforts featured oversized creatures (Village of the Giants, The Food of the Gods, etc.). Tormented was no biggie, as Gordon merely turned his sights to the supernatural once the market for giant flicks began shrinking. The fine genre actor Richard Carlson (Creature From the Black Lagoon) plays Tom, a jazz musician whose upcoming marriage threatens to be ruined by his jealous ex, Vi (Juli Reding). When Vi falls from a lighthouse due to a faulty railing, Tom has the opportunity to save her but instead allows her to plunge to her death. Vi comes back to haunt the guilt-ridden Tom, appearing as a dismembered hand, as a floating head, and as mops of seaweed. The story is decent and some individual scenes click, but the low-budget production values and some weak acting from the supporting players hurt. Joe Turkel, however, gives a good performance as Nick the hep-cat blackmailer — if he looks familiar, add two decades’ worth of wrinkles to his face and you’ll recognize him as Lloyd the bartender in The Shining and Tyrell the replicant creator in Blade Runner.

Mystery Science Theater 3000 showcased Tormented in a 1992 episode, and this Blu-ray edition throws in that MST3K skewering as a bonus. It’s a solid episode, and the host segment during which Joel, Crow, and Tom Servo name the singers they would love to see plummet off a lighthouse (can’t argue with their selection of Lionel Ritchie) is a riot. Other extras include film historian audio commentary; a piece on Gordon’s career in the 1950s and ‘60s; an archival interview with Gordon; and footage from the unreleased TV pilot for 1961’s Famous Ghost Stories, created by Gordon and hosted by Vincent Price.

Movie: ★★

MST3K Episode: ★★★

YOU’LL NEVER GET RICH (1941). The title is about the only thing forgettable about You’ll Never Get Rich, a terrific comedy-musical and one of the unfairly unsung films in the Fred Astaire catalog. Packed with laughs and boasting a superlative song score by Cole Porter, this finds Fred cast as Robert Curtis, a successful Broadway choreographer who gets caught in the middle of the latest womanizing scheme perpetrated by producer Martin Cortland (Robert Benchley), a married man futilely pursuing chorus girl Sheila Winthrop (Rita Hayworth). As it inevitably must, one thing leads to another, and Robert finds himself in the army — that’s hardly the end of the matter, though, as Martin and Sheila again enter his life as they both have reasons for visiting his base. Astaire’s best musicals (of which 1935’s still-frustratingly-MIA-on-Blu-ray Top Hat is the pinnacle of perfection) were never stingy with the comic quota, and this one is no exception. Astaire is once again as effortless with the wisecracks as with the dance moves, and he’s ably supported by the sputtering Benchley as the wandering cad, Cliff Nazarro as a soldier with a peculiar way of speaking, and Osa Massen as an opportunistic showgirl (a peek at the type of role later immortalized by Jean Hagen in 1952’s Singin’ in the Rain). You’ll Never Get Rich earned a couple of Academy Award nominations for Best Scoring of a Musical Picture (Morris Stoloff) and Best Original Song (Porter’s “Since I Kissed My Baby Goodbye”). Astaire and Hayworth would reunite the very next year for You Were Never Lovelier.

Blu-ray extras consist of film historian audio commentary and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★★½

Short And Sweet

BLACK MASK (1996). This actioner finds Jet Li playing a super-soldier who has severed all ties to the past. When his old comrades return to trigger a drug war, he dons the titular fashion accessory and confronts them. As expected, this offers plenty of high-grade fight sequences, but the characters alternate between drab and annoying, and an unnecessary cruel streak (the slaughter of innocent librarians, a little girl having her legs sawed off) damages its appeal.

The Blu-ray edition offers the original and uncut Hong Kong version; the export version with the original English (British) dub; the export version with the U.S. dub (I guess so Americans didn’t have to be subjected to British accents?); the Taiwanese version; and an extended version that includes all the footage found in the various other cuts. Extras include interviews and trailers.

Movie: ★★½

BURIAL GROUND (1980). Burial Ground, aka The Nights of Terror aka Burial Ground: The Nights of Terror, is one of those post-Romero zombie cheapies that flowed like blood out of Italy in the late 1970s and early ’80s. This one’s pretty terrible, not nearly as disreputably enjoyable as 1979’s Zombie or 1980’s Zombie Holocaust. Unfolding at a country estate and centering on a group of guests being attacked by the undead, it’s dull rather than disturbing, although the casting of a 25-year dwarf (Peter Bark) as the 12-year-old son of one of the adults (Mariangela Giordano) makes the characters’ Oedipal relationship even more pronounced.

Burial Ground comes equipped with both English and Italian language tracks. Blu-ray extras include deleted and extended scenes; a festival Q&A with Bark; and an interview with Giordano.

Movie: ★

DRACULA HAS RISEN FROM THE GRAVE (1968). It was eight years after 1958’s Hammer classic Horror of Dracula before Christopher Lee finally returned to the role of the bloodsucking count in 1966’s Dracula: Prince of Darkness. Following that hiatus, he appeared in six Dracula flicks within an eight-year span — first after D:PoD was Dracula Has Risen from the Grave, which finds the vampire freed from the icy tomb that had ensnared him at the end of the previous picture. He seeks revenge against a local monsignor (Rupert Davies) and goes about it by targeting his beautiful niece (Veronica Carlson). The film interestingly makes its heroic lead (Barry Andrews) an atheist rather than the usual follower of Christ, but some script deficiencies hamper the overall project.

The only Blu-ray extra is the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★½

FROM SCREEN TO STREAM

Turkey Pick: THE ISLAND (1980). After the monstrous success of Jaws — both the mediocre 1974 novel and the brilliant 1975 film — author Peter Benchley followed up with two more oceanic endeavors: 1976’s The Deep and 1979’s The Island. Benchley co-wrote the screenplays for both Jaws and the 1977 screen version of The Deep before taking on solo scripting duties for 1980’s adaptation of The Island. But while Jaws was a commercial and critical hit and The Deep was a commercial hit but critical dud, The Island proved to be a flop with everyone. Michael Caine plays Blair Maynard, a reporter who heads to the Caribbean to investigate the disappearance of numerous ships in uncharted waters. He drags his bratty son Justin (Jeffrey Frank) along with him, a bad decision once they get captured by the cause of all those missing vessels: a band of modern-day pirates who are inbred descendants of actual cutthroats from 300 years earlier. Led by John David Nau (David Warner), the sterile gang brainwashes Justin into becoming one of them while keeping Blair alive so he can mate with the only fertile woman (Angela Punch McGregor) on the island and spark a new generation. Risible passages abound, including a sequence in which all action stops so Nau’s men can take on a Bruce Lee wannabe and a climactic howler in which Caine’s thinking-man conveniently turns into G.I. Joe. Yet perhaps the biggest flaw is that these savage and vicious pirates aren’t particularly frightening or imposing, instead coming off as Peter Pan’s Lost Boys all grown up — to riff from The Kentucky Fried Movie, they aren’t tough and ruthless so much as they’re rough and toothless. The score by Ennio Morricone isn’t bad, just wildly out of place: As the pirates head toward a yacht to slaughter the college-age kids aboard, a cheerful, bouncy track isn’t really what the scene requires.

Movie: ★½