FILM FRENZY

Jack Nicholson in Chinatown (Photo: Paramount)

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.)

AMERICAN FICTION (2023). A formidable actor who has lent his support to everyone from James Bond to Katniss Everdeen, Jeffrey Wright finally lands the (leading) role of his career in this black comedy about Black literature. Wright delivers a beautiful slow-burn performance as Thelonious “Monk” Ellison, an academic author whose novels are rejected for not being “black” enough. After another scribe (Issa Rae) hits it big with a book called We’s Lives in Da Ghetto, a frustrated Monk writes a deliberately pandering novel in the guise of a fictional former convict (“Stagg R. Leigh,” from the similarly titled blues folk song) and then is flabbergasted when it’s a success. Few films from last year can match this one for sizable belly laughs, but the guffaws never obfuscate the issues at hand, particularly the reductiveness and stereotyping of the Black experience in America. Tracee Ellis Ross offers a strong turn in some early passages as Monk’s responsible sister Lisa while Leslie Uggams is touching as their Alzheimer’s-afflicted mother Agnes — there’s a good role as well for John Ortiz as Monk’s agent, and Sterling K. Brown is excellent as Monk’s estranged brother Cliff. Written and directed by Cord Jefferson (adapting Percival Everett’s novel Erasure), this was one of 2023’s 10 best films. Nominated for five Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Actor, Supporting Actor (Brown), and Original Score, this won Cord the Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay.

There are no Blu-ray extras.

Movie: ★★★½

BOUND (1996). Before they became widely known for The Matrix, writer-directors Larry and Andy Wachowski (now Lana and Lilly Wachowski) made their mark with this bravura bit of pulp fiction, a steamy crime thriller (and significant LGBTQ film) that contains more suggestive double entendres in its dialogue than perhaps any movie this side of Double Indemnity. Corky (Gina Gershon), an ex-con settling into her new apartment complex, discovers that she’s living next door to Caesar (Joe Pantoliano), who launders money for the mob, and his pampered girlfriend Violet (Jennifer Tilly). After instantly falling for each other, the two women devise a scheme that will allow them to steal two million dollars of the mob’s money while leaving Caesar holding the (empty) bag. Initially, viewers might think they know how this will play out — after all, who hasn’t seen The Postman Always Rings Twice or Body Heat? But as the movie unfolds, it becomes apparent that the Wachowskis are doing everything in their power to remain a step or six ahead. All the performances are superb, including Pantoliano as a guy who’s tenfold more intelligent than he initially appears and John P. Ryan as a brutal mob enforcer whose voice rarely rises above the level of a raspy whisper.

Criterion’s 4K + Blu-ray edition contains the unrated international version. Extras include audio commentary by the Wachowskis, Tilly, Gershon, Pantoliano, film editor Zach Staenberg (who would later win an Oscar for The Matrix), and technical consultant Susie Bright; interviews with Gershon, Tilly, and others; and a visual essay.

Movie: ★★★½

CAT BALLOU (1965). More of a commercial than critical smash back in the day, Cat Ballou has since seen its standing ripen into that of a bona fide comedy cornerstone. Yet the picture isn’t as consistently funny as its reputation would suggest, as it relates the tale of naïve schoolteacher Catherine Ballou (Jane Fonda), who hardens into an outlaw after her father (John Marley) is targeted by the ruthless gun-for-hire Tim Strawn (Lee Marvin). To fight back, she hires the legendary Kid Shelleen (also Marvin), learning too late that he long ago turned into a drunken lout who has trouble even hitting the side of a barn. Marvin is terrific (especially as Kid Shelleen), but there’s not nearly enough of him; instead, Fonda’s comparatively drab character takes center stage, with too much time spent on her tepid romance with outlaw Clay Boone (Michael Callan). Nat Kong Cole and Stubby Kaye are delightful, though, offering commentary on the proceedings via song. For a better example of how the West was fun, check out the same decade’s uproarious Support Your Local Sheriff! (also available on Blu-ray and reviewed here). Nominated for five Academy Awards, including Best Adapted Screenplay for Walter Newman and Frank Pierson (adapting Roy Chanslor’s novel), Cat Ballou earned Marvin the Best Actor Oscar.

Blu-ray extras consist of audio commentary by Callan and co-star Dwayne Hickman (amusing as Clay’s easygoing uncle); separate film historian audio commentary; the vintage short “The Ballad of Cat Ballou”; and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★½

CHINATOWN (1974) / THE TWO JAKES (1990). “Forget it, Jake, it’s Chinatown.” This immortal line is enough to make any movie lover swoon, yet it’s just one of the countless classic bits of dialogue in director Roman Polanski and scripter Robert Towne’s film noir homage, an enduring masterpiece that has moved beyond being regarded as one of the best films of the 1970s to being hailed as one of the best films Hollywood has ever produced. Jack Nicholson, in what ranks as one of his four or five greatest performances (and that’s saying something), stars as J.J. Gittes, a private eye in 1930s Los Angeles who becomes involved in a labyrinthine plot involving murder, political corruption, and the family secrets of potential femme fatale Evelyn Mulwray (Faye Dunaway). John Huston is wonderfully slimy as Evelyn’s kingpin father, while Jerry Goldsmith’s score is a keeper (it was cited by the American Film Institute as the ninth best of all time). Given his own sleazy history, it will surprise no one to discover that the downbeat ending was not concocted by Towne (who had fashioned a different if slightly less bleak conclusion) but was added by Polanski. Nominated for 11 Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Actor, Actress, and Director, its sole victory was for Best Original Screenplay — a given, since Towne’s script continues to be singled out (and even utilized by film professors) as a model of perfection.

Sixteen years later, Nicholson, this time as both director and star, reunited with Towne for the unjustly overlooked sequel The Two Jakes, which finds Gittes drawn into a mystery that shrewdly connects back to the events from the first picture. The link to the original film can be deduced rather easily, and by this point, Nicholson had begun slipping into the “hammy Jack” persona that would eventually inform too many of his performances — his turn as Gittes in The Two Jakes is enjoyable, but it never quite feels like the same man from Chinatown. Yet this follow-up is admirably dense in a manner that’s satisfying rather than frustrating, and co-stars Harvey Keitel and Meg Tilly are both memorable, especially in the picture’s later scenes.

Paramount has issued a two-disc set that contains Chinatown on 4K and The Two Jakes on Blu-ray. Extras on Chinatown include audio commentary by Towne, joined by Seven director David Fincher; a making-of featurette; a look at the film by author Sam Wasson (The Big Goodbye: Chinatown and the Last Years of Hollywood); and a discussion of a proposed third film featuring J.J. Gittes, unfortunately scrapped after the box office failure of The Two Jakes. There are no extras on The Two Jakes.

Chinatown: ★★★★

The Two Jakes: ★★★

CRIMSON PEAK (2015). Guillermo del Toro’s Crimson Peak will likely only appeal to viewers unfamiliar with Jane Eyre or Henry James or Daphne du Maurier or, heck, even The Silence of the Lambs. Mia Wasikowska is Edith Cushing, an aspiring novelist living in turn-of-the-20th-century Buffalo with her protective father (Jim Beaver). Edith is visited by the ghost of her mother, who warns her to “Beware of Crimson Peak!” (presumably the script as well as the locale). She can make no sense of the spectral suggestion, so she proceeds with her life, which, following the lead of any protagonist in a bildungsroman, finds her leaving home for lands unknown. She tosses aside a colorless suitor (colorless Charlie Hunnam) for a mysterious Brit (Tom Hiddleston), marries this haunted man, and moves to his family home in England, where the couple will share quarters with his perpetually brooding sister (Jessica Chastain). But almost immediately upon arriving at this dilapidated, isolated estate, Emily is exposed to all manner of inexplicable sights and sounds. Del Toro clearly means for Crimson Peak to register as a throwback to classic films steeped in Gothic ambience, but he piles on the artifice to such an excessive degree that the entire project suffers from overbearing overkill. With the majority of its twists easy to deduce and the rest telegraphed far ahead of time, the picture isn’t remotely scary, suspenseful, or atmospheric. Oddly, here’s a supernatural flick in which the ghosts are wholly insignificant and absolutely irrelevant — take all of the spirits out of the picture and it doesn’t change the primary plot one iota.

4K extras include audio commentary by del Toro; a making-of featurette; and deleted scenes.

Movie: ★★

NEVER OPEN THAT DOOR (1952) / IF I SHOULD DIE BEFORE I WAKE (1952). While Hollywood has always been fond of the works of mystery writer Cornell Woolrich — Rear Window, The Leopard Man, and Cloak & Dagger (RIP Dabney Coleman) are but a few of the many filmizations — it’s apparent that his novels and short stories have found favor in other parts of the world as well. Most famously, France’s François Truffaut directed a pair of Woolrich properties as 1968’s The Bride Wore Black and 1969’s Mississippi Mermaid (both reviewed here), while Germany, India, Italy, Japan, and Mexico have all sampled from his product. And then there was Argentina, where director León Klimovsky took first crack at the author with 1951’s The Earring and was followed the very next year by Carlos Hugo Christensen, who was particularly ambitious in his attempt at bringing the author to the screen. Working with scripter Alejandro Casona, Christensen planned to make a three-part anthology film based on a trio of short stories by Woolrich (written under the pseudonym William Irish). When the finished flick turned out to be over 2½ hours long, it was decided to lop off one story and release that as a separate motion picture.

Never Open That Door (No abras nunca esa puerta) is the two-parter, with one short film followed by a lengthier tale. The first piece, “Somebody on the Phone,” centers around a man (Ángel Magaña) who’s determined to discover the identity of the person blackmailing his distraught sister (Renée Dumas). The Twilight Zone would debut later that decade, and one could easily imagine this story (which runs about the same length as an episode) making itself at home on the show, what with its atmosphere of dread and its twist ending. The main feature, “Hummingbird Comes Home,” uses shadows to imaginative effect, a natural inclination given that the protagonist is blind. Elderly Rosa (Ilde Pirovano), whose sightless condition finds her relying on the assistance of her niece Maria (Norma Giménez), has spent years waiting for her son Daniel (Roberto Escalada) to return home; when he does, she’s dismayed to learn that he’s not exactly a model citizen. There’s tension to spare in this tight, controlled saga.

Never Open That Door is the marquee attraction in the new Blu-ray + DVD edition from Flicker Alley (with contributions from The Film Noir Foundation and UCLA Film & Television Archive), with Christensen’s other Woolrich adaptation, If I Should Die Before I Wake (Si muero antes de despertar), listed only on the back cover as a bonus offering. Yet I was more impressed with this picture, which showcases a more disturbing storyline and contains a greater number of suspenseful sequences. Lucio (Néstor Zavarce) is the youthful lead, a school-age boy whose status as the son of a respected detective (Floren Delbene) won’t prevent him from being expelled if he continues to misbehave. Lucio is friends with a classmate who swears him to secrecy before telling him that a nice man has been frequently giving her lots of candy in the park — after she disappears, Lucio has to decide whether or not to break his promise, a predicament made even more challenging by his reputation as a bad boy. Presented as a modern-day fairy tale and even finding room for splashes of expressionism, If I Should Die Before I Wake is unique in the manner in which it suggests the presence of God in what’s depicted as a godless universe, with the theme reaching its boiling point during the riveting denouement.

Extras in Flicker’s Alley’s Blu-ray + DVD edition consist of audio commentary by Argentinian film historian Guido Segal; a half-hour piece on Woolrich; and a discussion of Argentinian cinema by film archivist and historian Martin Peña. A booklet is also included.

Never Open That Door: ★★★½

If I Should Die Before I Wake: ★★★½

REMEMBERING GENE WILDER (2023). Gene Wilder was by all accounts a lovely man, and Remembering Gene Wilder is a lovely tribute to both his personal life and his film career. Suggesting that his comedy was first honed as a young boy tasked with keeping his ailing mother in good spirits, this documentary employs interviews, home movies, film clips, and — this is key — excerpts from the audiobook version of his 2005 autobiography Kiss Me Like a Stranger: My Search for Love and Art to illustrate how his comic persona flourished on screen but was often dampened by an off-camera existence that had its tragic moments. Certainly, it’s hard not to get emotional during the portion of the film examining his marriage to Gilda Radner, who died of ovarian cancer five years after they wed, or the final stretch when it captures Wilder suffering from Alzheimer’s (he succumbed to the disease in 2016, age 83). Mostly, though, this is a celebration of his artistry, with looks at his film debut in a memorable small role in 1967’s Bonnie and Clyde, his breakthrough in Mel Brooks’ 1968 The Producers, his successful partnerships with Brooks (who’s among the interviewees) and later Richard Pryor, and his starring role in 1971’s Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. This is hardly a comprehensive biopic — for example, it never mentions such basic facts as the number of marriages he had (four) or his two career Oscar nominations (Best Supporting Actor for The Producers and, with Brooks, Best Adapted Screenplay for Young Frankenstein) — but for film fans in general and his fans specifically, this is a must.

Blu-ray extras consist of additional interviews with Brooks and others, and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★★½

ROBOCOP (2014). There are two ways to approach the 2014 RoboCop, which I wouldn’t buy for a dollar even on 4K. Obviously, the first is to compare it to its 1987 predecessor; just as obvious, the second is to treat it as its own entity. The results? On its own, it’s barely average; in comparison, it’s close to awful. Either way, most viewers will justifiably be feeling a fair amount of rage against the machine. Paul Verhoeven’s ’80s effort is a sci-fi gem that has only grown in stature over the ensuing years. This version sticks with the basic outline but veers off in unexpected ways. That’s an acceptable approach, but when none of the changes are an improvement over anything in the original, there’s clearly trouble in New Detroit. Gone is practically all of the pitch-black humor; also missing are ample vignettes of RoboCop (dull Joel Kinnaman) in crime-busting mode, whether shooting a would-be rapist in the penis or hurling a would-be thief across a convenience store. Instead, this gets bogged down in one numbing scene after another, most centered around RoboCop’s attendant doctor (Gary Oldman), his brilliant creator (Michael Keaton), and his mourning wife (Abbie Cornish). Even folks who wouldn’t know RoboCop from Paul Blart: Mall Cop will find this a particularly joyless exercise, arid in the extreme. Aside from Samuel L. Jackson’s shtick as a FOX-styled TV personality, the only laughs are unintentional. There’s occasionally a memorable line, but it’s usually one clumsily imported from the 1987 model: “I’ll buy that for a dollar!” or “Dead or alive, you’re coming with me!” Other classic quips failed to make the cut, including one that I’d personally like to direct to the folks responsible for this fiasco: “Bitches, leave!”

4K extras include making-of featurettes and theatrical trailers.

Movie: ★½

ROBOCOP 2 (1990). More Robocop, in this case a sequel to the 1987 original. The team responsible for that first RoboCop, director Paul Verhoeven and scripters Edward Neumeier and Michael Miner, weren’t involved with RoboCop 2, replaced by director Irvin Kershner and writers Frank Miller and Walon Green. Kershner had previously helmed The Empire Strikes Back, Miller was still riding high from his comic miniseries The Dark Knight Returns, and Green was the co-writer of the Western classic The Wild Bunch — all this talent counted for naught when the end result proved to be so unremittingly trashy and ugly. Peter Weller returns as RoboCop/Murphy, but all humanity has been stripped from his characterization, leaving him as little more than just an action figure. The character of The Old Man (Dan O’Herlihy), presented as a grandfatherly sort in the original RoboCop, drips pure evil here as the head of the conglomerate OCP, and neither he nor any of the other villains (including a psychopath played by Tom Noonan) even begin to compare to the fantastic rogues’ gallery from the first flick. Lacking its predecessor’s sharp-edged satire, RoboCop 2 is a humorless and dour experience.

Extras in the 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray edition include audio commentary by CG supervisor Paul Sammon; audio commentary by the makers of the miniseries RoboDoc: The Creation of RoboCop; a making-of featurette; a piece on the visual effects; archival behind-the-scenes material; a deleted scenes image gallery; and theatrical trailers.

Movie: ★½

Short And Sweet

BACK TO THE FUTURE: THE ULTIMATE TRILOGY (1985-1990). By my count, this marks the 11th time that the popular trilogy has been released on Blu-ray and/or 4K. For the record, there’s nothing added to this edition — no new extras, no new remastering, nada. As for the movies themselves, the 1985 original, in which Marty (Michael J. Fox) and Doc (Christopher Lloyd) zoom 30 years back to 1955, remains the best; 1989’s middle entry, in which the pair head forward to 2015, is the most underrated (like fellow second child Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, it had to contend with doltish charges of being too cold); and 1990’s third part, which took the two back to the Old West of 1885, is the most conventional.

Blu-ray extras include audio commentaries; making-of featurettes; deleted scenes; interviews; and music videos.

Back to the Future: ★★★½

Back to the Future Part II: ★★★

Back to the Future Part III: ★★½

MAN’S CASTLE (1933). Spencer Tracy, buck-naked? Perhaps a body double, but either way, you can catch such a scene in the pre-Code release Man’s Castle, which also features a pregnancy outside of marriage and a cold-blooded murder committed by one of the saga’s upstanding characters. Yet all of this was par for the course for pre-Code Hollywood, and the film is actually a romantic and touching Depression-era melodrama in which a tough guy (Tracy) and a naïve woman (Loretta Young) live together in a shantytown shack. Director Frank Borzage adds fine detail to his simple sets, allowing the picture to simultaneously feel real and dreamlike.

The Blu-ray contains the original cut of the film, not the more widely seen re-release version which debuted after the Hays Code was in effect and had about 10 minutes of offending footage removed (including Spence’s derriere). There are no extras; there’s not even a Main Menu page (the film just starts immediately upon inserting).

Movie: ★★★

FROM SCREEN TO STREAM

YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN (1974). Fans of The Producers and Blazing Saddles will vehemently disagree — and I’m not about to argue with either faction — but Young Frankenstein easily earns my vote as Mel Brooks’ best film. Indeed, it’s one of the greatest comedies ever made, its immense popularity reflected by its #13 placement on the American Film Institute’s list of the 100 funniest films of all time (bested by, yes, Blazing Saddles at #6 and, yes, The Producers at #11). A tribute to Universal’s classic horror films from the 1930s and ‘40s, it stars Gene Wilder as Dr. Frederick Frankenstein — excuse me, “Fronkensteen” — who carries on his infamous grandfather’s work by creating a monster (Peter Boyle) with the assistance of his hunchbacked assistant Igor (Marty Feldman, swiping the show). Madeline Kahn is his frosty fiancée, Teri Garr his voluptuous lab assistant, and Cloris Leachman the scowling housekeeper. And then there’s Gene Hackman, scoring in his hilarious cameo as the blind man. Filmed in black-and-white and employing the actual sets from 1931’s Frankenstein, this manages to be affectionate without sacrificing any laughs. Watch any random couple of minutes and at least a half-dozen guffaws will be had, either via inventive sight gags or riotous dialogue (too many great bits to quote, although I’ve long been partial to the “What knockers!” and “Werewolf!” exchanges). This earned two Academy Award nominations, for Best Adapted Screenplay (Brooks and Wilder) and Best Sound. Kahn, meanwhile, picked up a Best Supporting Actress Oscar nomination for her other Mel Brooks smash from 1974, Blazing Saddles, with that film also nabbing nods for Best Film Editing and yet another nod for Brooks in the category of Best Original Song (“Blazing Saddles,” co-written with John Morris).

Movie: ★★★★

UPCOMING

THE SNIPER (2024). Another American sniper gets the title treatment in this short film from director Dastan Khalili (whose previous short, Day9, was reviewed favorably here) and scripter Chris Calzia. Like Bradley Cooper’s Chris Kyle in the Clint Eastwood flick, Regan (Johanna Watts) is a former soldier suffering from PTSD, and like Tim O’Kelly’s Bobby Thompson in Peter Bogdanovich’s Targets, she’s tempted to fire upon innocent civilians far away from any battle zone. But Chris kept his finger off the trigger stateside while Bobby was obviously a psychopath — by comparison, Regan’s demons come directly from her wartime experiences, and, when the film begins, she’s already considering whether to shoot one or both of the strangers she frames in her crosshairs. Only the sudden appearance of her therapist Marion (Eli Jane) distracts her from possibly committing murder, and the two women then engage in a lengthy conversation about Regan’s state of mind. “I still crave the sight of that red mist, my reward for a clean shot,” reveals Regan, and Marion does her best to talk the veteran off that particular ledge. Only 20 minutes in length, The Sniper doesn’t really have the time for deep psychoanalysis, but Calzia’s broad strokes do offer food for thought — at least a slice if not a full meal — in the possibility that love, respect, and self-sacrifice are potential avenues to explore when the fog of war no longer remains halfway around the world but has instead hitched a ride home like the most unwelcome of stowaways. (The Sniper will be available for POV viewing later in 2024.)