FILM FRENZY

Annie Potts, Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd, and Ernie Hudson in Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire (Photo: Columbia)

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 CASE OF THE BLOODY IRIS (1972). The English translation of the original Italian title is the rather unwieldy Why Those Strange Drops of Blood on Jennifer’s Body? while England elected to call the film Erotic Blue, which sounds more softcore porn than hardcore giallo. The U.S. moniker of The Case of the Bloody Iris is probably the best of the three since it at least ties into one of the many plotlines twisting its way through this entertaining if ultimately obvious murder-mystery. Models and friends Jennifer (Edwige Fenech) and Marilyn (Paola Quattrini) move into an apartment building where two women, a prostitute and a stripper, have just been murdered within hours of each other. The detective (Giampiero Albertini) on the case suspects the building’s handsome architect (George Hilton), while Jennifer believes it might have something to do with her ex-husband (Ben Carra), the leader of a sex cult from which she had finally managed to break free. Other suspects include a lesbian neighbor, a mutilated man who seemingly lives within the walls, and a photographer who looks like Woody Allen’s twin brother. The story is impressively dense for the initial stretch, although once the clutter shifts, it not only becomes easy to peg the killer but also simple to guess his/her motive for the murders. Still, this overcomes any obviousness with its interesting roster of characters, some amusing snatches of dialogue (at least as translated from the Italian, although an English dub is also available), and the usual stylistic flourishes that define the finer giallo flicks.

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray edition include film critic audio commentary; a discussion with director Giuliano Carnimeo and scripter Ernesto Gastaldi; and interviews with Hilton and Quattrini.

Movie: ★★★

COMMON LAW WIFE (1963) / JENNIE, WIFE/CHILD (1968). I’ve enjoyed exploitation, sexploitation, blaxploitation, Canuxploitation, Ozploitation, Bruceploitation, and even nunsploitation. But unless one counts such outliers as Deliverance and The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (and I don’t), I’ve never had much use for hicksploitation, which was generally low-budget drive-in fodder made for rednecks and focusing on rednecks doing rednecky things. Film Masters, in collaboration with Something Weird, has put out what it’s billing as a “Backwoods Double Feature,” a Blu-ray showcasing two movies certain to inspire hee-haws and yeehaws from all the yahoos.

Common Law Wife is a particularly dreadful picture in which the elderly Shugfoot Rainey (George Edgley) grows tired of his middle-aged girlfriend Linda (Annabelle Weenick) and kicks her out. He then lusts after his bratty niece Baby Doll (Lacey Kelly), who’s only interested in his money. Linda discovers that she’s Shugfoot’s common law wife and therefore protected in a legal sense — tepid fireworks ensue. Wretched on every conceivable level, this isn’t even entertaining as junk cinema. It actually began life as an unfinished film named Swamp Rose before director Larry Buchanan sold it to other filmmakers who added their own footage and released it as Common Law Wife. Buchanan has stated in interviews that his film was a serious drama and not pure exploitation, but take that declaration with a grain or 20 of salt since Buchanan’s filmography is littered with the low-rent likes of Free, White and 21, Mars Needs Women, and Goodbye, Norma Jean.

Jennie, Wife/Child is also pretty feeble in the writing, acting, and directing departments, but at least it moves, which makes it a better bet than Common Law Wife. Its plot is fairly similar in that the elderly Albert Peckingpaw (Jack Lester) is married to the barely legal Jennie (Beverly Lunsford), who naturally tries to ditch this old coot at every opportunity to spend time with the handsome but dimwitted farmhand Mario Dingle (Jim Reader). Reader’s “stupid is as stupid does” routine and Lunsford’s perpetual pout are good for a few laughs (clearly, the Jennie in this relationship isn’t as likable as Forrest Gump’s Jenny), and give credit for that somewhat bizarre fadeout. This marked an early credit for cinematographer Vilmos Zsigmond, who would later shoot such classics as McCabe & Mrs. Miller and The Deer Hunter and win an Academy Award for Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

Blu-ray extras consist of audio commentaries, including one by Buchanan on Common Law Wife; the new documentary That’s Hicksploitation: The Origin of Southern Sinema; and trailers. A booklet containing an essay titled “Backwoods Babes, Mean Old Men, and Simple-Minded Studs” is also included.

Common Law Wife: ★

Jennie, Wife/Child: ★½

THE FLASH: THE ORIGINAL SERIES (1990-1991). The Flash on The CW lasted an impressive nine seasons (2014-2023). The Flash on CBS wasn’t nearly as fortunate, lasting a single season. Like many other shows, The ’90 Flash didn’t crash and burn because it was unwatchable — it died due to the twin villainy of high production costs and erratic time slots. Clearly television’s attempt to cash in on the success of the 1989 theatrical smash Batman (even importing Danny Elfman to offer a similarly dynamic score), this found the network pouring well over a million dollars into each episode, only to fumble its scheduling by moving it a couple of times. The 90-minute pilot is particularly good, presenting the expected origin story of how police forensic scientist Barry Allen (John Wesley Shipp) gets doused with chemicals and becomes the fastest man alive. Modern-day fanboys weaned on the CGI teat will guffaw at the visual effects, but they’re pretty good for 1990 television, and while Shipp was a far cry from the Barry Allen of my Justice League of America-reading youth, he proves to be just fine in the role (unfortunately, his bulky physique doesn’t really lend itself to those form-hugging reds). Subsequent episodes were more hit-and-miss and the humor was often too broad, but this nevertheless deserved to last more than 22 episodes. Mark Hamill appears in two episodes as The Trickster, and one-and-dones include Bryan Cranston, Angela Bassett, Wes Studi, a trio of actors from Twin Peaks (which debuted the same year) in Lenny von Dohlen, Ian Buchanan, and Eric DaRe, and two familiar faces from the Star Trek franchise in Denise Crosby and Jeri Ryan. Several of the regulars, including Shipp, would later turn up on The CW’s The Flash in the same or similar roles.

There are no Blu-ray extras.

Series: ★★½

GHOSTBUSTERS: FROZEN EMPIRE (2024). After the rampaging mediocrity known as 2021’s Ghostbusters: Afterlife (championed mainly by those kneejerk jerks who were just happy it didn’t star — ew! — women like the MRA-targeted 2016 version), it’s nice to see Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire do more right than wrong. More a tedious and warmed-over sop to Spielbergian sentiment than anything else, Afterlife was so distracted with not offending sensitive fanboy man-boys that it even bungled its throwbacks to the 1984 original. Although somewhat excessive, Frozen Empire at least does OK with its nostalgic chants, provided one can ignore Bill Murray’s utterly bored expressions in all his scenes. This one brings the action back to NYC, with Gary (Paul Rudd) and the Spenglers (Carrie Coon as Callie, Mckenna Grace as Phoebe, and Finn Wolfhard as Trevor) setting up shop in the Ghostbusters’ original firehouse HQ. With the backing of OG ‘busters Ray Stantz (Dan Aykroyd) and Winston Zeddemore (Ernie Hudson), they reopen the paranormal business, and it’s not long before they’re squaring off against a frosty demon named Garraka. The throwbacks come fast and furious — Peter Venkman (Murray) eventually turns up, as do secretary Janine Melnitz (Annie Potts) and even longtime adversary Walter Peck (William Atherton). Grace shines as her character develops a friendship with a teenage ghost (Emily Alyn Lind) — theirs is the most interesting relationship in the movie, although the filmmakers are quick to steer it away from the obvious LGBTQ implications. Aykroyd is also very good, while newcomers Kumail Nanjiani and Patton Oswalt provide most of the laughs. It’s a little too cluttered and a couple of supporting players could have been removed with no damage, but it still qualifies as a nice try.

Blu-ray extras include audio commentary by director/co-writer Gil Kenan; a making-of featurette; deleted scenes; and Easter Eggs.

Movie: ★★½

THE GUYVER (1991). Many folks who have never seen The Guyver assume that Mark Hamill plays the title superhero. One of the original poster designs makes it look like Hamill morphs into The Guyver. Even John Stanley’s revered Creature Features (at least the early editions) states that Hamill is “the underdog who fights back as the Guyver.” Hamill is one of those guys who, like Bruce Campbell, audiences love to see in genre flicks. Given all this, he should have been cast as The Guyver; instead, he’s relegated to a supporting role, with the central part given to one of those blond, bland actors who were a dime-a-dozen in the 80s and early 90s. In this silly sci-fi saga based on the Japanese manga series, Jack Armstrong plays Sean Barker, a regular guy who stumbles across an alien device that turns him into a crime-fighting cyborg. The Zoanoids, humans who can transform into monsters, want the gizmo, so they tangle with Sean as well as his girlfriend (Vivian Wu) and a CIA agent (Hamill) to retrieve it. Re-Animator stars David Gale and Jeffrey Combs appear as two of the villains, The Hills Have Eyes’ Michael Berryman and Good Times’ Jimmy Walker portray shape-shifting flunkies (and, yes, Walker repeats his signature “Dy-no-mite!” from the hit series), and scream queen Linnea Quigley has a cameo as a scream queen. With that supporting cast and the funky monster designs, this should have been so much better, but it’s betrayed by a lackluster screenplay and attempts at humor that move beyond lame and settle into atrocious.

Unearthed Classics has issued The Guyver in a 4K + Blu-ray + CD edition that should please the film’s fans. Extras include audio commentary by directors and creature effects creators Screaming Mad George and Steve Wang; new interviews with Screaming Mad George and producer Brian Yuzna; outtakes; and a gag reel. In addition to the soundtrack CD, this also adds a booklet to the haul.

Movie: ★★

THE MAN I LOVE (1947). Although they’re different from a narrative standpoint, Martin Scorsese has long credited The Man I Love as the inspiration for New York, New York, his 1977 flop starring Liza Minnelli and Robert De Niro. This is certainly the more entertaining picture, focusing on a singer’s efforts to help her siblings in their various moments of need. Night Shift (the name of the source novel) and Why Was I Born? were also considered as titles, but All in the Family would have served just as well. Petey Brown (Ida Lupino) is at the center of it all — she’s a lounge singer who returns home for Christmas to spend quality time with her sisters Sally (Andrea King) and Virginia (Martha Vickers) and her brother Joe (Warren Douglas). But she learns that Sally’s husband (John Ridgely) is in a hospital for shell-shocked veterans and that Sally has to constantly beat off the advances of nightclub owner Nicky Toresca (Robert Alda), a slimy mobster who also has Joe running odd jobs for him. Nicky hires Petey to perform in his club and instantly puts the moves on her, but she’s more interested in washed-up musician San Thomas (Bruce Bennett). That’s an awful lot of happenings for one movie — and I haven’t even touched on the exploits of the flirtatious neighbor (Dolores Moran) and her jealous husband (Don McGuire) — but that’s part of this movie’s delirious appeal, as it manages to satisfactorily tackle and tie up all the dramatic developments. The soundtrack is packed with beloved standards like the Gershwins’ title tune and Kern-Hammerstein’s “Bill.” Speaking of which…

The matter of licensing fees for songs is what led to several minutes being cut out of the film for subsequent showings — this new Blu-ray restores the footage that’s been missing for over 60 years. Blu-ray extras consist of the 1946 cartoon Roughly Squeaking; the 1947 Bugs Bunny cartoon Slick Hare; and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★★

MATINEE (1993). One of director Joe Dante’s finest achievements, Matinee expertly juxtaposes the real-life horror of October 1962 — namely, the Cuban Missile Crisis — with a reel-life one — in this case, Mant!, a B-flick about a half-man, half-ant creature. John Goodman is wonderful as Lawrence Woolsey, a garrulous filmmaker who promotes his movies with outrageous gimmicks (the character was based on the legendary William Castle). With his leading lady (Cathy Moriarty) in tow, he arrives in Key West to promote Mant!, hoping that the locals’ fears of nuclear annihilation will get channeled into enthusiasm for his decidedly less threatening movie. Meanwhile, the new kid in town (Simon Fenton), a hardcore monster-movie fan (cue shots of the influential Famous Monsters of Filmland being read), divides his time between hanging out with his new friends and receiving valuable life lessons from Woolsey. Dante and scripters Jerico and Charlie Haas clearly know their way around this period, and they pack their film with savory nuggets on both the pop-culture and political fronts. Character actor Dick Miller and Eight Men Out writer-director John Sayles — like Dante, former Roger Corman employees — are amusing as a pair of rabble rousers, and there’s a hilarious swipe at the inane live-action Disney movies of the era (and, yes, that’s Naomi Watts in the film-within-the-film The Shook Up Shopping Cart).

Extras in the 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray edition include film critic audio commentary; a vintage making-of featurette; deleted and extended scenes; interviews with Dante, Moriarty, and co-stars Lisa Jakub, Kellie Martin, and David Clennon; a piece on creating the Mant costume; behind-the-scenes footage; still galleries; and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★★½

MR. & MRS. SMITH (1941). Alfred Hitchcock’s third film after landing in America — the first two were the 1940 beauties Rebecca and Foreign Correspondent — remains one of his most unexpected. Mr. & Mrs. Smith is notable for being the only screwball comedy on the director’s Hollywood resume, and we are forever thankful for that. After all, nobody else could have made Psycho or Vertigo, but plenty of other filmmakers could have made Mr. & Mrs. Smith. Totally bereft of any traces of Hitchcock’s modus operandi, the film belongs more to scripter Norman Krasna, who was experienced at penning comedies (he would win an Oscar for one of them, the Olivia de Havilland vehicle Princess O’Rourke, two years later). It’s a slight yet pleasant trifle in which Ann and David Smith (Carole Lombard and Robert Montgomery), deeply in love but always bickering, learn that a legal boo-boo means their marriage is not valid. Rather than immediately getting hitched again, David’s boorish behavior leads Ann to call it quits — David tries to win her back, but now he’s competing for her affections against his friend and business partner Jeff (Gene Raymond). It’s awfully thin stuff, but the stars are charming (particularly Lombard) and Raymond has one of the funniest drunk scenes I’ve encountered in quite some time (“Thank you”). This was the last Lombard film released while she was still alive, arriving almost exactly one year before her tragic death in an airplane crash at the age of 33 (her final film, the 1942 classic To Be or Not to Be, was released posthumously).

Blu-ray extras consist of a retrospective making-of featurette; the 1940 live-action short Cinderella’s Feller; the 1940 cartoons Holiday Highlights and Stage Fright; two radio versions, one starring Lombard and Bob Hope, the other Errol Flynn and Lana Turner; and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★½

PURPLE RAIN (1984). Here’s the film that, in tandem with a smash soundtrack, transformed Prince from a music star into a music superstar and briefly gave him stature as a movie star as well. Prince plays The Kid, a talented musician whose success is tempered by reasons both professional — a rival showman named Morris (Morris Day) — and personal — a difficult home life which orbits around his abusive father (Clarence Williams III). Purple Rain was a box office hit and nabbed its fair share of critical hosannas (Siskel and Ebert both included it on their respective lists of the year’s 10 best films), but the truth is that the drama is clunky, the acting (particularly by leading lady Apollonia Kotero) is awful more often than not (as one wag noted at the time, the performances barely reach Little Rascals level), and the casual sexism simmers throughout. But whenever Prince takes the stage to perform one of his sizzling songs, the picture irresistibly exudes sex, sweat, and swagger in equal measure. Prince is remarkable as a music performer, and director Albert Magnoli makes sure to catch every gesture and gyration. Prince deservedly earned an Academy Award for Best Original Song Score; oddly, though, not one of the individual tunes (“When Doves Cry,” “Let’s Go Crazy,” etc.) managed to snag a nod in the Best Original Song category.

Extras in the 4K + Digital Code edition consists of audio commentary by Magnoli, producer Robert Cavallo, and cinematographer Donald E. Thorin; a look at the First Avenue nightclub where the film takes place; and eight music videos. Unfortunately, most of the extras from the previous Blu-ray editions have been dropped, including by far my favorite inclusion: footage from the MTV Premiere Party, with appearances by Eddie Murphy, Pee-wee Herman, Weird Al Yankovic, and others.

Movie: ★★★

Short And Sweet

ACT OF VIOLENCE (1948). If the TCM experts are to be believed, Gregory Peck and Humphrey Bogart were at one point considered to be the co-leads in this film noir offering. My two favorite actors sharing the screen together? Yes, please! Alas, ‘twas not meant to be, but we’re still left with a solid drama in which crippled WWII veteran Joe Parkson (Robert Ryan) seeks revenge on Frank Enly (Van Heflin), the officer he insists betrayed his men while both were held in a German POW camp. The film is strengthened by its messy morality, not only questioning whether Joe is justified or merely crazy but also if Frank’s standing as a dutiful husband, loving father, and pillar of his community should negate any potentially shameful behavior from his past.

Blu-ray extras consist of film historian audio commentary; a retrospective making-of piece; the 1948 cartoon The Shell-Shocked Egg; the 1949 cartoon Goggle Fishing Bear; and the trailer.

Movie: ★★★

CYRANO (2021). Long of nose has been replaced by short of height in this disappointing reworking of the Edmond Rostand play Cyrano De Bergerac. It’s based on the 2018 stage musical starring Peter Dinklage and created by his wife Erica Schmidt, and both are involved with this screen interpretation, he as star and she as scripter and executive producer. Dinklage is one of the few bright spots, zestfully playing the witty wordsmith who loves the beautiful Roxanne (Haley Bennett) but realizes she is smitten with the dashing Christian (Kelvin Harrison Jr.). Borrowing from Sesame Street, the Word of the Day is “flat” when it comes to Cyrano, whether discussing the staging, the songs, the supporting turns by Bennett and Harrison, or the attempts at conjuring any semblance of deep-seated passion. Even the visuals seem muted, although this did snag an Oscar nomination for Best Costume Design.

The only Blu-ray extra is a making-of featurette.

Movie: ★★

FROM SCREEN TO STREAM

THE DIRTY DOZEN (1967) / A DRY WHITE SEASON (1989). Donald Sutherland passed away last week at the age of 88, leaving behind a most eclectic and often extraordinary filmography. Recommendations include the Best Picture Oscar winner Ordinary People (reviewed here), Don’t Look Now (here), Eye of the Needle (here), and many more covered on this site (the Search function is quite helpful!) — and also the two here, one featuring the actor when he was still a supporting player, the other after he became a star.

There was no shortage of grand-slam WWII action flicks in the 1960s, and one of the best is this box office smash cast to perfection with an all-star lineup and directed in his typically punchy style by Robert Aldrich. Lee Marvin stars as Major Reisman, an out-of-favor officer who’s ordered to take 12 military convicts — a cheerful assortment of murderers, thieves, and rapists — turn them into efficient fighting men, and lead them behind enemy lines on a suicide mission aimed at taking out top Nazi brass. The thugs are alternately sympathetic (Charles Bronson), sweet-natured (Sutherland), sarcastic (John Cassavetes), and sadistic (Telly Savalas), yet their hatred of authority provides them with a common ground that allows them to come together as a fighting unit. Nominated for four Oscars, including Best Supporting Actor for Cassavetes, this won for Best Sound Effects.

With A Dry White Season, Euzhan Palcy not only became the first black woman to direct a major-studio film but she also coaxed Marlon Brando out of a nine-year retirement to appear as a liberal South African barrister. His participation at the time — he earned a dubious Best Supporting Actor Oscar nomination simply because he was Marlon Brando — overshadowed what remains a potent picture about the horrors of apartheid. In one of his best performances, Sutherland stars as a naïve Afrikaner — a history teacher, no less — who slowly becomes awakened to the atrocities occurring around him, while South African actors (and Tony Award winners) Zakes Mokae and Winston Ntshona are equally memorable as two of those involved in the brutal struggle on the ground level.

The Dirty Dozen: ★★★½

A Dry White Season: ★★★½