FILM FRENZY

Weird Al Yankovic in UHF (Photo: Shout! Studios & MGM)

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.)

ANCHORMAN: THE LEGEND OF RON BURGUNDY (2004). While many folks have loved this film since Day One, I trashed it upon its original release, only reevaluating it years later after countless friends who likewise dissed it assured me it was better on a second viewing. They were right: The laughs suddenly seemed more smart-stupid and less stupid-stupid, and the lunkheaded protagonists were easier to take. Revisiting it now for a third time, that revised opinion thankfully holds. Will Ferrell stars as a chauvinistic news anchor enjoying the good life in 1970s San Diego alongside his equally obnoxious co-workers: sportscaster Champ Kind (David Koechner), weatherman Brick Tamland (Steve Carell), and field reporter Brian Fantana (Paul Rudd). The need for diversity results in the ambitious Veronica Corningstone (Christina Applegate) being hired as a news reporter — initially, the guys just view her as a hottie to seduce, but her rapid ascension up the ranks soon leaves them in a panic. This is the sort of film where the concepts of sustained shouting and milking a joke past its expiration date are both frequently passed off as cutting-edge comedy, but much of the material is indeed very funny. The tribute to Burt Reynolds, who made the concept of end-credit bloopers fashionable, is a nice touch. This was followed by a superior sequel, 2013’s Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues.

The 4K + Blu-ray + Digital Code edition offers the PG-13 theatrical cut, an unrated extended version, and the feature-length Wake Up, Ron Burgundy: The Lost Movie. Extras include audio commentary by Ferrell, director Adam McKay (who also co-penned with Ferrell), and others; cast auditions; deleted scenes; and bloopers.

Movie: ★★½

THE CHASE (1946) / PURSUED (1947). Here are a couple of film noirs newly offered on Blu-ray via the Kino label, but neither is exactly what one would consider a typical noir. If nothing else, their similar monikers suggest a marquee-friendly double feature.

As the protagonist of Alfred Hitchcock’s underrated 1942 thriller Saboteur, Robert Cummings’ character did an awful lot of running from the law as he was falsely accused of a murder he did not commit. Likewise, Cummings’ character in director Arthur Ripley’s overrated 1946 noir The Chase also finds himself falsely fingered and in flight. In this adaptation of Cornell Woolrich’s novel The Black Path of Fear, Cummings stars as Chuck Scott, a struggling WWII veteran who lands a job as chauffeur for dapper businessman Eddie Roman (Steve Cochran, simultaneously smooth and slimy). What Chuck doesn’t know is that Eddie is a murderous mobster — all he knows is that he spends more time with his nasty right-hand man Gino (peerless Peter Lorre) than with his unhappy wife Lorna (Michèle Morgan). Chuck and Lorna fall for each other and a great escape is planned to Cuba, but matters take a turn for the worse after a murder is committed and Chuck is forced to evade the Cuban authorities. So far, so noir, with the versatile cinematographer Frank F. Planer (The Nun’s Story, The Big Country) providing the picture with all manner of shadowy menace. But then a major plot twist, one not in the novel, occurs, and all of the film’s suspense sputters out like a balloon losing air. This unfortunate and unlikely plot pirouette was reportedly applied to appease Hays Code enforcers, but I can’t help but wonder if it was instead influenced by the superb ending of a classic Fritz Lang noir from two years prior.

The back-cover copy for Pursued states that Martin Scorsese tagged the film Hollywood’s first “western noir,” but he’s hardly the only one holding that viewpoint. This picture has long been heralded as one of the best examples of the film noir template expanding beyond its normal parameters, with noir regular Robert Mitchum at the center of its dark doings. This existentialist oater from director Raoul Walsh and scripter Niven Busch (neither one a stranger to either noir or the Western) casts the actor as Jeb Rand, who’s haunted by hazy childhood memories that are linked to the murder of his father. Jeb has been raised by the widowed Mrs. Callum (Judith Anderson) alongside her own children Thorley and Adam; once grown up, Jeb and “Thor” (Teresa Wright) fall in love with each other but Adam (John Rodney) continues to be antagonistic toward his adoptive brother. Also spanning the years is the habitual presence of Grant Callum (Dean Jagger), who for reasons of his own has sworn to kill Jeb. Although questionable character motives emerge during the third act and inform the predictable climax, the majority of Pursued is strong stuff, with Mitchum’s uncomprehending cowboy tortured not only by the machinations of others but also by his own storm-tossed psyche.

Extras on The Chase consist of audio commentary by filmmaker Guy Maddin (My Winnipeg, Dracula: Pages From a Virgin’s Diary); two radio adaptations of Woolrich’s source novel, one starring Cary Grant, the other Brian Donlevy; and trailers for eight other titles on the Kino label. Extras on Pursued consist of film historian audio commentary; an introduction by Scorsese; and trailers for 12 other films offered by Kino.

The Chase: ★★

Pursued: ★★★

THE MINISTRY OF UNGENTLEMANLY WARFARE (2024). It never grows tiresome seeing cinematic Nazis get what’s coming to them — in these MAGA-infested times, it’s even a bit cathartic — so how could the latest “boys and their toys” romp from the usually dependable Guy Ritchie botch the assignment so thoroughly? In just the past handful of years, Ritchie has successfully tackled war (The Covenant), retribution (Wrath of Man), and cool codes of clandestine conduct (The Gentlemen) — this movie offers all three yet gains little traction in any area. Loosely based on history and on the book covering that history (Damien Lewis’ Churchill’s Secret Warriors: The Explosive True Story of the Special Forces Desperadoes of WWII), this finds British Prime Minister Winston Churchill (Rory Kinnear as the least convincing Churchill I have ever seen on screen) agreeing with his Special Operations Executive (SOE) officers — a lot that includes outfit head Colin Gubbins (Cary Elwes) and future James Bond author Ian Fleming (Freddie Fox) — to back a rogue unit of inglourious basterds in carrying out an off-the-books mission against a Nazi stronghold off the West African coast. While two covert agents (Eiza González and Babs Olusanmokun) arrive early to set things in motion, commando leader Gus March-Philipps (Henry Cavill) and his team head toward the area aboard a shipping vessel, doing their best to avoid capture by German and English authorities alike. It’s a great story, but lackadaisical telling mutes practically every aspect of it, resulting in cardboard characters, snoozy plot developments, and generic battles.

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray + Digital Code edition consist of a making-of featurette and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★

MONKEY MAN (2024). Monkey Man makes it exceptionally easy to guess what popular movie franchise served as an inspiration. “You like John Wick?” asks a weapons dealer of Kid, the film’s protagonist. “I have the same gun from that movie!” Yet Dev Patel, who not only stars as Kid but also makes his feature debuts as writer (with Paul Angunawela and John Collee) and director, admirably adds some sociopolitical content to his tale — this weighty material never dominates the picture but does apply meaningful shadings to what’s basically a stylish revenge flick. With the legend of the immortal Hindu god Hanuman further informing the story, this finds Kid spending most of his time working as a brawler at an underground fight club, where he dons a monkey mask whenever he enters the ring. Away from the venue, Kid is focused on vengeance — specifically, against the venal spiritual leader (Makarand Deshpande) and corrupt police chief (Sikandar Kher) responsible for the destruction of his village and murder of his mother (Adithi Kalkunte in ample flashbacks) when he was a small boy. Religious extremism is just one of the many topics glimpsed in Monkey Man, along with the inequality of India’s caste system and the bigotry toward the transgender community. In the simplest terms, though, Monkey Man works as a hard-hitting action yarn, with Patel proving his chops behind the camera with his orchestration of some exceptional fight scenes.

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray + Digital Code edition include audio commentary by Patel and three of the film’s producers; a making-of piece; and deleted scenes (including one showing the ultimate fate of Kid’s friend Alphonso, played by Pitobash).

Movie: ★★★

NARROW MARGIN (1990). The 1952 film noir effort The Narrow Margin is rightly considered a classic; the 1990 remake Narrow Margin is rightly not. Yet that’s not to say there isn’t much to enjoy in this breezy thriller in which Gene Hackman’s typically strong performance and Peter Hyams’ typically robust direction overpower some character deficiencies in the screenplay (also by Hyams). Hackman portrays a district attorney who tries to protect an eyewitness (Anne Archer) to a murder from the assassins sent to terminate her; finding themselves aboard a train snaking through the Canadian wilds, the pair must somehow elude their pursuers in particularly cramped quarters. Some dumdum decisions made by Hackman’s brainy character don’t really make sense, but these and other plotholes will be forgiven by those who respond to the film’s clever catch (the killers know what he looks like but not what she looks like), several memorable villains, and an exciting climax. If nothing else, this is the only movie whose cast includes both M. Emmet Walsh and J.T. Walsh, two beloved character actors whose names often led to viewer confusion during their overlapping career stretches. (For the record, M. plays the folksy but ill-fated detective while J.T. plays the charming but ill-fated lawyer.)

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray edition include audio commentary by Hyams; separate film historian audio commentary; a making-of featurette; select sound bites from vintage interviews; and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★★

SOUTH PARK: BIGGER, LONGER & UNCUT (1999) / TEAM AMERICA: WORLD POLICE (2004). Here are two theatrical offerings from the South Park team of Trey Parker and Matt Stone, with one celebrating its 25th anniversary and the other its 20th.

I suppose the most satisfying aspect of South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut is how gleefully it sticks it to the hypocrites on the MPAA ratings board. Of course, that outfit isn’t the only target in this rowdy comedy: Brooke Shields, Bill Gates, Bryan Adams, and Barbra Streisand are among the other celebs being ribbed (although my favorite is the Conan O’Brien bit). It’s all in the service of a plotline in which South Park kids Stan, Cartman, Kyle, and Kenny all sneak into the R-rated film Asses of Fire, starring the flatulence-prone and foul-mouthed Canadian comedians Terrence and Phillip. Once the tots leave the theater spouting every profane word known to humankind, their moms are outraged — deciding to blame Canada for the corruption of this nation’s youth, they form Mothers Against Canada, urge President Bill Clinton to declare war on our neighbors, and arrange for the capture and execution of Terrence and Phillip. The children do their part in fighting back by forming La Resistance and attempting to liberate the comic Canucks. As expected, the movie is crude in both look and content, but it does make some salient (and perennially relevant) points about the dangers of censorship and the responsibilities that come with freedom of choice. The main storyline is frequently hilarious, but the movie unfortunately grinds to a halt whenever a stupid subplot about Satan and Saddam Hussein being lovers takes center stage. The cheerful ditty “Blame Canada” (written by Parker and Marc Shaiman) nabbed an Academy Award nomination for Best Original Song; other tunes include “Mountain Town,” “What Would Brian Boitano Do?” and “Uncle Fucka.”

The South Park flick seems as benign as Snoopy Come Home when compared to Team America: World Police, the Parker-Stone duo’s feverish attempt to offend everyone. The title outfit in this all-marionette effort — super-macho warriors willing to destroy the world in order to stop any and all terrorist threats (there goes the Eiffel Tower; there go the pyramids) — is a conservative wet dream, as is the notion of depicting liberal Hollywood actors like Tim Robbins and Alec Baldwin as anti-American stooges who suffer gruesome deaths for opposing our valiant heroes (you haven’t lived until you’ve seen a puppet Sean Penn ripped apart by a kitty cat posing as a panther). But wait, there’s more: a Broadway stage show featuring the song “Everybody’s Got AIDS,” Middle Eastern terrorists who speak entirely in gibberish (though we can frequently make out “jihad”), an explicit sex scene between anatomically incorrect dolls, and one of the longest vomiting scenes ever recorded on film. Is it funny? Occasionally, although not nearly as often as one might reasonably expect from these guys. Whereas the humor in South Park manages the fine line between sharp and sophomoric, this one is simply juvenile for long stretches, and the use of marionettes (inspired, of course, by those Gerry Anderson productions like Thunderbirds) creates a distancing effect that softens rather than enhances any emotional resonance. The comic highlights are punched across at regular intervals — check out the riotous depictions of Michael Moore and Matt Damon — but once the novelty of the marionettes wears off, the movie has trouble sustaining its length, its laughs, and even its level of outrageousness.

Extras on the 4K + Blu-ray + Digital Code edition of South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut include audio commentary by Stone and Parker; the music video for “What Would Brian Boitano Do?”; and theatrical trailers. Extras on the 4K + Blu-ray + Digital Code edition of Team America: World Police (which contains both the R-rated theatrical version and an unrated cut) include a look at creating the puppets; deleted scenes; and animated storyboards.

South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut: ★★★

Team America: World Police: ★★

STRANGERS KISS (1983). The low-budget 1955 production Killer’s Kiss (reviewed here) was Stanley Kubrick’s second movie (he would hit it big with his third, 1956’s noir beauty The Killing), and the making of that film is given a highly fictional treatment in Strangers Kiss, a similarly low-budget effort from writer-director Matthew Chapman and writer-actor Blaine Novak. Peter Coyote plays Stanley, a director whose second film, Strange and Dangerous, is being financed by a gangster (Richard Romanus) whose only condition is that Stanley and the picture’s producer Farris (Dan Shor) cast his girlfriend Carol (Victoria Tennant) as the female lead. For the central male role, they settle on Stevie (Novak), who ends up falling for Carol. Seeking to create chemistry between his stars, Stanley doesn’t let Stevie know that Carol is lover to a jealous criminal. A movie of modest charm, Strangers Kiss offers a backstage look at the troubles confronted by filmmakers trying to bring their projects to the big screen, and Coyote plays Stanley with the right balance of open-minded visionary and temperamental tyrant. But just as the mobster insisted that his girlfriend be the lead in Strange and Dangerous, Novak the scripter and story originator apparently insisted that Novak the actor be the lead in Strangers Kiss. He’s crucially miscast, and his awkward emoting occasionally throws the picture off balance and provides Tennant with little to play against.

Blu-ray extras include audio commentary by film critic Walter Chaw; interviews with Chapman (who, apropos of nothing, is the great-great-grandson of Charles Darwin), Tennant, Novak, and producer Douglas Dilg; and a visual essay.

Movie: ★★½

UHF (1989). A theatrical flop in 1989 but a home-video hit in subsequent years, this comedy stars Weird Al Yankovic as George Newman, a likable guy with a sweet girlfriend (Tea Party psychopath, rampant homophobe, and failed politician Victoria Jackson), a loyal best friend (David Bowe), and a knack for getting fired from every job he’s ever held. His Uncle Harvey (Stanley Brock) puts him in charge of a failing TV station he won in a card game, and while it initially appears as if the tiny network will fold, an unexpected string of hits — shows like Wheel of Fish and Raul’s Wild Kingdom — instead catapults it to the top of the ratings. In one of the extra features on this 4K + Blu-ray release, Yankovic even admits that the flimsy plot was an afterthought, created only as a framework on which to place gags spoofing movies and TV shows. Given its feebleness, that’s readily apparent, but the film largely works because of Yankovic’s personality and because of the parodies, which tackle such hits as Raiders of the Lost Ark and Conan the Barbarian (reconfigured here as Conan the Librarian). A pre-Seinfeld Michael Richards co-stars as a dim-witted janitor who becomes the unlikely host of a hit children’s series, while The Nanny’s Fran Drescher appears as the station’s aspiring news reporter.

Extras include audio commentary by Yankovic and director Jay Levey; deleted scenes (with intros by Yankovic); behind-the-scenes footage; a retrospective panel discussion with Yankovic at the 2014 San Diego ComicCon; the music video for Weird Al’s “UHF”; production stills; Easter Eggs; and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★½

WHO’S THAT GIRL (1987). I quite like “Who’s That Girl” — to be clear, I mean the catchy song by Madonna that hit #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 and picked up a Grammy Award nomination for Best Song Written Specifically for a Motion Picture or Television (beaten by the treacly “Somewhere Out There” from An American Tail). My appreciation doesn’t extend to the movie Who’s That Girl, which is terrible on any number of levels. I suppose the best one can say about it is that it isn’t as awful as 1986’s Shanghai Surprise, which Madonna made with then-husband Sean Penn and which inspired one of my all-time favorite critical rips (can’t recall the reviewer; perhaps Mike Clark): “It’s tough for Penn to succeed in the grand adventure movie tradition when the screen legend he most reminds you of is Ratso Rizzo.” In Who’s That Girl, Madonna delivers one of the most abrasive performances of the past half-century as Nikki Finn, a human whirlwind who has just been paroled after four years in a New York slammer. Because Nikki was framed for a murder she didn’t commit, she seeks to clear her name and nab the real culprits — interfering with her plans is a nebbish named Loudon Trott (Griffin Dunne), who has been assigned (for reasons immediately apparent) to ensure she gets on the bus back to her Philadelphia hometown. Nikki makes Loudon’s life miserable, meaning the picture becomes an updated — and unbearable — Bringing Up Baby, complete with a large cat (a leopard in the Cary Grant-Katharine Hepburn classic, a cougar here) and plenty of screwball situations that in this case evoke migraines, not mirth.

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray + Digital edition consist of film historian audio commentary; a photo gallery; and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★

FROM SCREEN TO STREAM

VALLEY OF THE DOLLS (1967) / BEYOND THE VALLEY OF THE DOLLS (1970). Both Valley of the Dolls and Beyond the Valley of the Dolls are considered towering achievements in camp — the difference, though, is that one offers intentional laughs while the other provides unintentional ones.

Jacqueline Susan’s Valley of the Dolls was the bestselling novel of 1966, so it was almost a given that the screen version would end up being one of the top grossers of 1967 (it ranked #5, sandwiched between The Dirty Dozen at #4 and To Sir, With Love at #6). But no amount of riches can disguise the fact that this is one rotten movie, a suffocating melodrama about three young women and their (usually tragic) experiences with show business, with men, and with “dolls” (i.e. pills). Barbara Parkins and Sharon Tate are acceptable as, respectively, sensible Anne Welles and sensual Jennifer North, but the normally fine Patty Duke is atrocious as Neely O’Hara, the winsome girl whose rapid ascension to stardom turns her into a vicious, sputtering shrew. The newfound envelope-pushing in cinema, tested so brilliantly in 1967 by Bonnie and Clyde and The Graduate, is botched here — for starters, the word “fag” is employed so many times that one would think it was invented that very year — and even exemplary actresses like Susan Hayward and Lee Grant can’t provide much of value in supporting roles.

Russ Meyer, known for his exploitation cheapies showcasing big-breasted women, was hired by 20th Century Fox to make a sequel to Valley of the Dolls; soon, though, it was decided that Beyond the Valley of the Dolls would have nothing to do with Susan’s book or its film adaptation beyond the fact that it would also center on lovely ladies succumbing to fame and drugs. Employing film critic Roger Ebert to co-write the script, Meyer fashioned a kitschy flick that’s been highly praised in some circles and summarily dismissed in others. Caught in the right frame of mind, it offers plenty of groovy sights, with heroines Kelly (Dolly Read), Casey (Cynthia Myers), and Pet (Marcia McBroom) and their manager Harris (David Gurian) hitting Hollywood and immediately becoming involved with the powerful and flaky Z-Man Barzell (John LaZar). The violent climax, which was not in the original script, is highly problematic in that the death of a central character reveals a puritanical (and perhaps hypocritical) stance when it comes to the moralizing being doled out by Ebert and Meyer — like the phallic gun that also figures in the finale, it leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

Valley of the Dolls: ★½

Beyond the Valley of the Dolls: ★★½