FILM FRENZY

Dr. Seuss’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas! (Photo: Warner Bros.)

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.)

BONES AND ALL (2022). A Badlands with ample bloodletting, Bones and All is an adaptation of the popular YA novel about teenage cannibals traveling through the American heartland during the 1980s. Taylor Russell is Maren, who’s abandoned by her father (André Holland) once she turns 18 because he can no longer deal with the fact that she’s an “eater,” someone who feels compelled to consume human flesh to survive. On her lengthy road trip to find the mother she never knew, she first encounters Sully (Mark Rylance), an older eater who wants to serve as her mentor, her father figure, and perhaps something more. Finding him kind but also creepy, Maren leaves Sully behind and eventually meets Lee (Timothée Chamalet), an eater who’s her age. They fall in love and travel together, but his ruthlessness and her naivete often make them incompatible. Bones and All is the sort of moody melodrama that can be absorbed straight up or metaphorically, with potential themes including the disaffection of the LGBTQ community during the Reagan ‘n’ AIDS eighties, the lure of Americana as a means for self-discovery and reinvention, and the rejection of an older generation by the younger one (there’s a reason the most disturbing characters are the leering, middle-aged men played by Rylance, Michael Stuhlbarg, and Halloween helmer David Gordon Green). Chalamet too often operates in sleepy mode, and this performance is an example — amusingly, there’s a moment when Lee should be experiencing a complete emotional breakdown, and Chalamet remains so passive and stone-faced that Maren helpfully suggests that Lee must be in shock.

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray edition consist of short pieces focused on director Luca Guadagnino and the characters of Maren and Lee.

Movie: ★★★

BUG (2007). Ashley Judd’s career never quite lived up to the promise of her breakthrough performance in 1993’s lovely indie hit Ruby in Paradise (the odious Harvey Weinstein had much to do with that), but in Bug, she landed one of her most memorable parts in one of her more unusual movies. She plays Agnes, a lonely waitress who’s introduced to Peter Evans (Michael Shannon), a quiet man who right off the bat assures her that he’s not an axe murderer. Clearly, though, there’s something off about this brooding guy, but Agnes enjoys his company so much (or at least having company, period) that she invites him to stay with her. This irks her thuggish ex-con ex-husband (Harry Connick Jr., about as menacing as a French poodle), yet even his threats seem irrelevant once Peter begins to complain about the insect infestation in her apartment. Yet do the bugs really exist, or are they only in Peter’s (and maybe Agnes’) imagination? Working from Tracy Letts’ screenplay (itself based on his Off-Broadway play), director William Friedkin maximizes the claustrophobic feel of the intimate surroundings while drawing suitably anguished performances from Judd and Shannon. But Letts’ story is rather limited in its examination of how a lonely person’s neediness will often overcome all other emotions, and its employment of government paranoia feels decidedly old-hat. Indeed, it might have taken David Cronenberg, that insect fetishist (Naked Lunch, The Fly), to truly turn this into a freak-out session. As it stands, Bug deserves some measure of buzz, even if it never truly gets under the skin.

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray edition include audio commentary by Friedkin; a making-of piece; a discussion with Friedkin; and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★½

A CHRISTMAS CAROL (1951) / SANTA CLAUS (1959) / HOW THE GRINCH STOLE CHRISTMAS! (1966). Here be three flicks brought back on disc just in time for the Yuletide season, representing the good, the bad, and the grinchy.

Many great actors have tackled the role of Ebenezer Scrooge, including Fredric March, Albert Finney, George C. Scott, Michael Caine, and, of course, Scrooge McDuck. Yet the definitive Ebenezer Scrooge in the definitive screen version of the Charles Dickens classic would be the great Alastair Sim’s interpretation in the 1951 adaptation A Christmas Carol (titled simply Scrooge in its UK homeland). Sim is absolutely wonderful as the misanthropic skinflint who’s doomed to a hellish hereafter until various ghosts offer him a chance at redemption. Dickens’ original text gets fleshed out in interesting, not insulting, ways, and the brutality of life in London for the underserved is painted in vivid fashion. Yet it’s Sim’s masterful portrayal that most elevates this version, with the actor believably undergoing his radical transformation.

The Mexican production Santa Claus plays like a particularly vivid fever dream, full of such disturbing sights as robotic reindeer, an oscillating fan with a human ear attached to it, and a prancing red demon who seems to perpetually be auditioning for A Chorus Line. This Santa eschews the North Pole for some undefined spot in the clouds, where he employs kids (and Merlin the Magician!) instead of elves and utilizes all manner of intrusive devices as he spies on children all over the world. The film eventually turns into a classic “good vs. evil” saga as Santa battles the dancing devil Pitch for the soul of an adorable little moppet named Lupita. It’s cinema at its most surreal — or “good old-fashioned nightmare fuel,” according to Crow when the film made its Mystery Science Theater 3000 debut.

Network television in the 1960s produced a number of classic Christmas cartoons that continue to delight Baby Boomers, Generation Xers, and everyone else down the generational fault line. Nestled snugly alongside A Charlie Brown Christmas, Frosty the Snowman, and Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer is this perennial favorite. Adapted from Dr. Seuss’ children’s book, this delightful animated tale about a Scrooge-like creature whose heart is “two sizes too small” benefits from color-saturated animation (even more eye-popping in this 4K edition), Boris Karloff’s double duty as the Narrator and the Grinch (the actor would win a Grammy Award for Best Recording for Children when it was transferred to LP), and a heartwarming moral about the true meaning of Christmas.

All films are sold separately, Grinch through Warner and the other two via VCI. Blu-ray extras on A Christmas Carol include an introduction by Leonard Maltin; an examination of the film by film historian Sir Christopher Frayling; a 1939 radio dramatization narrated by Orson Welles and starring Lionel Barrymore; and two 1922 Dickens shorts, Scrooge and Bleak House. Blu-ray extras on Santa Claus include film historian audio commentary; a retrospective making-of piece; the 1951 short Howdy Doody’s Christmas; other Santa Claus novelty shorts; and TV and radio spots. 4K extras on How the Grinch Stole Christmas! include audio commentary by animator Phil Roman and actress June Foray (the voice of Cindy-Lou Who); two Emmy-winning Grinch specials, 1977’s Halloween Is Grinch Night and 1982’s The Grinch Grinches the Cat in the Hat; and a 1994 retrospective featurette hosted by Phil Hartman.

A Christmas Carol: ★★★½

Santa Claus: ★ (but ★★★★ for bad-movie buffs)

How the Grinch Stole Christmas!: ★★★½

HARRISON’S FLOWERS (2000). Here’s a hard-hitting drama that doesn’t shy away from showing the atrocities committed under the tag of “ethnic cleaning.” Set in 1991 Yugoslavia during the Croatian-Serbian conflict, the film stars Andie MacDowell as Sarah Lloyd, a wife and mother whose husband Harrison (David Strathairn), a Pulitzer Prize-winning photojournalist, is presumed dead after he travels to the city of Vukovar to cover the escalating civil war. Convinced he’s still alive, Sarah enters the fray herself, aided in her efforts by various other newshounds (played by Adrien Brody, Brendan Gleeson, and Elias Koteas; Gerard Butler also turns up briefly). By necessity, MacDowell’s character fades into the background as the group finds itself venturing deeper into enemy territory — while this may distance some viewers from what would be considered the movie’s emotional center, i.e. Sarah’s near-fanatical search for her hubby (although I would think her dependent kids back home would need her more than a grown man who made his own choices), it also demonstrates writer-director Elie Chouraqui’s commitment to keeping the specifics of the conflict as real as possible. This may not match the wallop of The Killing Fields, another film sympathetic toward journalists under fire (see From Screen To Stream below) — for one thing, employing a massive massacre as the backdrop for a lone American’s romantic pursuit might understandably rub many the wrong way — but there’s still plenty here to jolt folks off those couches.

Blu-ray extras consist of film critic audio commentary; the theatrical trailer; and trailers for other movies on the Kino label.

Movie: ★★★

HUSH (2016). Everyone, from the critic who loathes musicals to the 4-year-old who doesn’t like scary clowns in cartoons, has their own set of cinematic biases, and one of mine would be the mini-genre of “home invasion” movies. There have been exceptions, of course — most older, like 1955’s solid Humphrey Bogart thriller The Desperate Hours and 1967’s masterful Wait Until Dark (see From Screen To Stream below) — but for the most part, I’ve generally found them to be either stupid (The Intruder, Breaking In, even the beloved Home Alone) or sleazy (The Strangers, Funny Games). Hush is certainly one of the more accomplished films of this nature, with writer-director Mike Flanagan using the setting in inventive ways and co-scripter Kate Siegel writing herself a juicy role. She’s Maddie Young, a deaf author who lives in a desolate wooded area. As she sits alone one night while wrestling with writer’s block, a masked man (John Gallagher Jr.) wielding a crossbow shows up on her property. Eventually removing his mask, he informs her that he will mercilessly toy with her before killing her. Maddie, of course, seeks alternatives to this plan. The very nature of the piece requires some narrative treading of water, but Flanagan and Siegel come up with enough variations on familiar scenarios to always keep it moving. But while the film is exceedingly well-made, it’s the sort crafted for viewers to endure rather than enjoy, and the filmmakers’ gleeful approach to torture often makes it rough going. It’s certainly even more relevant (and ugly) today: When the killer tells Maddie, “I can come in any time I want. And I can get you any time I want,” it reflects the “Your body. My choice.” era that’s set to begin in earnest in January.

The 4K + Blu-ray edition also houses a black & white cut titled “Shush Cut.” Extras include audio commentary by Flanagan and cast, and interviews with various cast and crew members.

Movie: ★★½

LITTLE WOMEN (1994). The Katharine Hepburn and Saoirse Ronan versions are excellent in their own right, but this cinematic take on the Louisa May Alcott classic is the greatest of all adaptations. Directed by Gilliam Armstrong and scripted by Robin Swicord, this lovely movie relates the adventures of the March sisters, four youngsters who lead eventful lives around the time of the Civil War. With a supportive mother (Susan Sarandon) behind them, spunky Jo (Winona Ryder), reliable Meg (Trini Alvarado), timid Beth (Claire Danes), and feisty Amy (Kirsten Dunst and, after she ages, Samantha Mathis) recognize the importance of family, responsibility, and independence, and they’re aided in their efforts by a disparate group of suitors (Christian Bale, Gabriel Byrne, and Eric Stoltz). This is first-rate storytelling in every regard, with nary a false step taken at any point. Dunst (her breakout year, thanks also to Interview With the Vampire) and Bale are especially memorable, but it’s Ryder who towers above all with a career performance. Because this was only ready for viewing late into awards season (the members of the influential Hollywood Foreign Press Association didn’t even get to see it, leading to a shut-out), this only snagged three Academy Award nominations: Best Actress (Ryder), Best Original Score (the soundtrack by Thomas Newman ranks in my Top 3 for the decade, alongside Randy Edelman and Trevor Jones’ score for The Last of the Mohicans and Michael Nyman’s work on The Piano), and Best Costume Design.

Extras in the 4K Ultra HD edition include audio commentary by Armstrong; a making-of featurette; deleted scenes; and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★★★

A MAN CALLED SHENANDOAH (1965-1966). Robert Horton was familiar to TV audiences for his co-starring role as scout Flint McCullough in Wagon Train, but growing tired of Westerns, he quit the show after its fifth season, when it had finally landed in the #1 spot in the Nielsen ratings. A few years later, Horton was lured back to the Wild West for the title role in A Man Called Shenandoah, but this one wasn’t a hit. Airing opposite two popular Andys, The Andy Griffith Show and The Andy Williams Show, it was cancelled after only one season and 34 episodes. A Man Called Shenandoah debuted in the same year as the theatrical release Shenandoah, an excellent Western starring James Stewart, yet despite the similar titles and the shared use of the folk song “Oh Shenandoah,” they aren’t in any way related. Airing on ABC, the series finds Horton cast as a cowboy who, as the show begins, is suffering from memory loss (not unlike Daniel Craig’s character in the much later Cowboys & Aliens). Taking the name Shenandoah, he searches the West looking for clues to his true identity. Alas, he never discovers it, since the series ended without any resolution — he does, however, help others out along the way. Aside from its hook of an amnesiac wandering through the West, this isn’t very distinctive from other short-lived prime-time oaters of the period, although it serves its purpose for those looking for modest adventure yarns. As with many shows of the era, the guest list is packed with talent, including future Oscar winners George Kennedy, Cloris Leachman, and Martin Landau and future Star Trek regulars Leonard Nimoy, DeForest Kelley, and James Doohan.

There are no extras in the 4-disc Blu-ray set.

Series: ★★½

TOPKAPI (1964). Jules Dassin’s 1955 Rififi is rightly considered one of the best of all heist flicks, as well as one of the most influential. Among the movies it inspired was Topkapi, directed by … Jules Dassin. But whereas Rififi is a lean, mean French noir, Topkapi is an effervescent, English-language lark, with Dassin this time opting for sunshine instead of shadows. Adapted by scripter Monja Danischewsky from Eric Ambler’s novel The Light of Day, this casts top-billed Melina Mercouri as Elizabeth Lipp, a professional criminal who teams up with her ex-lover Walter Harper (Maximilian Schell) to pull off the seemingly impossible task of stealing a priceless, jewel-encrusted dagger from the Topkapi museum in Istanbul. After assembling their team of amateurs (Harper reasons they would be harder to trace after the fact), they then settle on a “schmo” named Arthur Simon Simpson (Peter Ustinov) to serve as their fall guy. But the scheme doesn’t unfold as expected and the outfit is forced to make Simpson an integral part of the plan. Like Rififi, Topkapi’s show-stopping set-piece is the actual robbery, and both mostly take place in complete silence. Topkapi’s is the more elaborate heist, and it too proved to be influential — it’s impossible to watch the most acrobatic of the thieves (Gilles Ségal) in this scene and not be reminded of Tom Cruise’s Ethan Hunt performing similarly deft moves while breaking into CIA HQ in the first Mission: Impossible film. Ustinov is gifted practically all of the movie’s best lines — he not only steals the show but also nabbed the Best Supporting Actor Oscar for his spirited turn (he already had one statue at home for his supporting stint in 1960’s Spartacus).

Blu-ray extras consist of film historian audio commentary; the theatrical trailer; and trailers for other offerings from Kino.

Movie: ★★★

THE WALKING DEAD (1936) / THE RETURN OF DOCTOR X (1939) / REVENGE OF THE ZOMBIES (1943) / THE BEAST WITH FIVE FINGERS (1947). Forget Thanksgiving: Even now, many are still nursing a Halloween hangover. For a dash of the hair of the dog (werewolf?) that bit you, here are four creature features, all newly arrived on Blu-ray and each featuring a horror superstar: Boris Karloff, Peter Lorre, John Carradine, and … Humphrey Bogart?

As the Warner Bros. studio’s go-to guy, Michael Curtiz directed a number of classics, including The Adventures of Robin Hood, Yankee Doodle Dandy, and Casablanca (for which he won his Oscar). He dabbled in all manner of genres, and among the few horror flicks he helmed was The Walking Dead, an interesting yarn in which ex-con John Ellman (Karloff), fresh from serving time for accidentally killing a man, gets framed for murder and sent to the electric chair. An eccentric scientist (Edmund Gwenn) manages to bring him back from the dead, and Ellman then proceeds to visit each of the men who set him up. Featuring Karloff in his prime, The Walking Dead is a solid little chiller unfortunately marred by a weak and hurried conclusion.

Despite its title, The Return of Doctor X is not a sequel to 1932’s Doctor X (which, incidentally, had been directed by Curtiz). It’s also not especially good, as two bland heroes (Wayne Morris and Dennis Morgan) investigate the shady dealings of a doctor (John Litel). What makes this one worth a peek is that the role of a pasty-faced zombie-vampire — a scientist who’s been brought back to life and can only survive by downing human blood — is played by no less than Bogie! Vincent Sherman made his directorial debut here and would later helm films starring leading Warner contract stars like Bette Davis, Errol Flynn, Joan Crawford, and, yes, Bogart again.

When the Poverty Row studio Monogram Pictures released King of the Zombies in 1941, little did its bosses know that not only were they helping to create a subgenre — Nazisploitation — but also a sub-subgenre: Nazi zombies! King of the Zombies would be successful enough that Monogram would follow it two years later with Revenge of the Zombies, which would boast a similar plotline as well as bring back popular black comedian Mantan Moreland in basically the same role. Carradine headlines as Dr. Max von Altermann, stationed in a Louisiana swamp and busy creating zombies who will further the Nazi cause. Sloppiness ensues, as much on the part of the scripters as on the demented doctor. The part of the zombie Lazarus is played by James Baskett; a few years later, he would win an Honorary Academy Award for portraying Uncle Remus in Disney’s Song of the South.

The best of the bunch is The Beast With Five Fingers, which paired Lorre and a disembodied hand 12 years after Mad Love (aka The Hands of Orlac) had done the same. The plots couldn’t be more different, however, with this one centering around pervy, paraplegic pianist Francis Ingram (Victor Francen), who lusts after his pretty nurse Julie (Andrea King) in his Italian villa. Ingram dies in an accident, but the local Commissario (J. Carrol Naish) nevertheless suspects he might have been killed by either Julie, her boyfriend Bruce (Robert Alda, Alan’s dad) or Ingram’s obsessive secretary Hilary (Lorre). Matters turn grisly when it appears that Ingram’s severed hand is responsible for a number of mishaps, including murder. Fluid pacing, mordant humor, and good performances by Lorre and Naish all work in the film’s favor.

All four films are sold separately, Zombies from Kino and the other three through the Warner Archive Collection. Extras on The Walking Dead include film historian audio commentary; the 2012 featurette Michael Curtiz: The Greatest Director You Never Heard Of, offering interviews with Steven Spielberg and William Friedkin; and the 1936 cartoons The Cat Came Back and Let It Be Me. Extras on The Return of Doctor X include audio commentary by Sherman and the 1939 cartoons Porky’s Hotel and Dog Gone Modern. Extras on Revenge of the Zombies consist of film historian audio commentary and trailers of other horror flicks on the Kino label. Extras on The Beast With Five Fingers include film historian audio commentary and the 1947 cartoons The Foxy Duckling and The Gay Anties.

The Walking Dead: ★★½

The Return of Doctor X: ★★

Revenge of the Zombies: ★½

The Beast With Five Fingers: ★★★

THE WIZARD OF OZ (1939). This family classic long ago left the realm of being mere entertainment to emerge as a cultural touchstone for generations of Americans. It’s all here: the peerless Judy Garland as farm girl Dorothy, proclaiming “there’s no place like home”; the gorgeous “Over the Rainbow,” which topped the American Film Institute’s list of the 100 Greatest Movie Songs; the irresistible tag team of the Scarecrow (Ray Bolger), the Tin Man (Jack Haley), and the Cowardly Lion (Bert Lahr); Margaret Hamilton’s seemingly deranged turn as the Wicked Witch of the West; the flying monkeys that have scared the bejesus out of countless kids over the decades; the Munchkins pointing the way down the Yellow Brick Road; the dazzling Technicolor; and, of course, the grand old Wizard (Frank Morgan) himself. The dirty secret regarding this adaptation of L. Frank Baum’s story is that upon its original release, its high budget meant it lost money at the box office; it took subsequent reissues to turn a profit, and it required an annual airing on prime-time television, a ritual that lasted approximately four decades, for it to claim its rightful legacy. Nominated for five Academy Awards, including Best Picture, it won two: Best Original Score and Best Original Song (“Over the Rainbow,” natch). Garland also received a mini-Oscar statue as the best juvenile performer of 1939 (for both this and Babes in Arms).

Warner Bros. has released a 4K + Blu-ray Steelbook billed as the 85th Anniversary Theater Edition. Physical items consist of reproductions of the premiere invitation, the original program, the original movie ticket,  lobby cards, and poster cards. Extras include audio commentary by Oz historian John Fricke, with snippets from cast and crew members; a feature-length making-of documentary; and an illustrated storybook read by Angela Lansbury.

Movie: ★★★★

FILM CLIPS

BLAME IT ON RIO (1984). Best friends Matthew (Michael Caine) and Victor (Joseph Bologna), both dealing with marital woes, head to Rio de Janeiro with their respective teenage daughters Nikki (Demi Moore) and Jennifer (Michelle Johnson) in tow. Soon, the 17-year-old Jennifer and the 43-year-old Matthew are constantly having sex; Jennifer insists they’re in love while Matthew tries to break off the tryst while also praying that Victor never learns that he’s bonking his baby girl. The magnificent director Stanley Donen, whose classics include Singin’ in the Rain and Charade, curiously opted to wind down his career with 1980’s dismal sci-fi yarn Saturn 3 and this empty-headed screwball comedy whose only saving grace is a deft comic turn from Caine.

There are no Blu-ray extras.

Movie: ★★

CIRCUS OF HORRORS (1960). A mostly effective horror yarn, this grisly UK import finds Anton Diffring cast as an egocentric plastic surgeon on the run from the law after a botched operation. He ends up taking over a struggling circus from its inebriated owner (Donald Pleasence) and turns it into a success by transforming disfigured female criminals into beautiful performers (trapeze artist, lion tamer, etc.). Any woman who then tries to leave the big top meets with an unfortunate “accident.” Perhaps improbably, the film managed to place a song from its soundtrack, “Look for a Star,” on the Billboard charts — perhaps even more improbably, the tune ended up placing on the 1960 charts four times by four different artists!

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray edition include film historian audio commentary; the theatrical trailer; and a TV spot.

Movie: ★★½

ZYZZYX ROAD (2006). Here’s a movie that would be completely forgotten were it not for the fact that it once set a record for scoring the lowest opening gross in history ($30). That stat comes with an asterisk — it wasn’t a traditional release but deliberately minimized to score foreign distribution deals — but no matter, as even most people who take a chance on it will end up forgetting it anyway. It’s a dreary neo-noir in which a married man (Leo Grillo) and his newly acquired girlfriend (Katherine Heigl) are forced to murder her jealous boyfriend (Tom Sizemore) — they take his body to the desert to bury it, but it disappears, making them realize that maybe he wasn’t dead after all. Dull characters, a murky presentation, and strained plot twists make this more of a ZZZ than anything else.

4K + Blu-ray extras include audio commentaries by writer-director John Penney and Grillo; behind-the-scenes pieces; and the trailer.

Movie: ★½

FROM SCREEN TO STREAM

THE KILLING FIELDS (1984). One of the great films of its decade finds Sam Waterston playing New York Times correspondent Sydney Schanberg, one of the foreign journalists assigned to Cambodia as the country contends with violent political upheaval during the 1970s. His assistant is a local named Dith Pran (Dr. Haing S. Ngor), and when the Khmer Rouge seize power, it’s Pran who saves the international reporters from the Communist thugs. Unfortunately, while the foreigners are eventually allowed to leave the country, Pran is forced to remain behind, thereby becoming a prisoner of a regime that ended up murdering two million citizens during its reign of terror. The Killing Fields is basically a two-part feature — the first half focusing on the journalists under fire, the second on Pran’s great escape from his war-torn country — and it’s a testament to the efforts of director Roland Joffé and scripter Bruce Robinson that both segments are equally superb. Chris Menges’ camerawork is awe-inspiring, capturing both the atrocities of war and the beauty of nature, while Mike Oldfield’s jangly score adds to the sense of unease. Waterston is fine as Schanberg, while John Malkovich made a blazing entrance into motion pictures thanks to excellent work in both this (as photojournalist Al Rockoff) and the same year’s Places in the Heart (for which he earned a Best Supporting Actor Academy Award nomination). Yet the movie belongs to Ngor, who, like Pran, was a real-life survivor of Cambodia’s killing fields and channeled all that emotion into his formidable performance. In a horrible twist of fate, Ngor had made it out of Cambodia only to be killed in the US, shot by Chinatown gang members in 1996. Nominated for seven Oscars, including Best Picture and Best Actor for Waterston, this won for Best Supporting Actor (Ngor), Best Cinematography, and Best Film Editing.

Movie: ★★★★

MANHUNTER (1986). It may have been 1991’s The Silence of the Lambs that led to Hannibal Lecter’s iconic status as well as his anointment as cinema’s all-time greatest villain (at least according to the American Film Institute’s 100 Heroes & Villains list back in 2003), but the cannibalistic doctor’s first on-screen appearance can actually be found in this compelling thriller which writer-director Michael Mann adapted from Thomas Harris’ novel Red Dragon. Brian Cox is excellent as Lecktor (as it’s spelled in this take), the brilliant serial killer who continues to play mind games from behind bars — it can be argued (and many have) that he surpasses Anthony Hopkins’ Oscar-winning work in the role. Yet Lecter/Lecktor is just a supporting character here, with the main action revolving around empathetic FBI agent Will Graham (William Petersen) and his pursuit of Francis Dollarhyde (Tom Noonan), a murderous psychopath whose media moniker is The Tooth Fairy. Innovatively shot by ace cinematographer Dante Spinotti (L.A. Confidential, Mann’s The Last of the Mohicans), this contains at least two bravura sequences that still stand out: the fiery fate of a pesky tabloid reporter (Stephen Lang) and the “In-a-Gadda-da-Vida”-driven finale. The same story was later employed in 2002’s underrated Red Dragon, with Edward Norton as Graham, Ralph Fiennes as Dollarhyde, and, of course, Hopkins as Lecter. Look for Frankie Faison in a brief bit in Manhunter as a police lieutenant; interestingly, he would later play head orderly Barney in The Silence of the Lambs and its follow-ups.

Movie: ★★★½

WAIT UNTIL DARK (1967). In the same calendar year in which Audrey Hepburn delivered an excellent performance in Stanley Donen’s Two for the Road, she gave an even more acclaimed one in Terence Young’s Wait Until Dark, a taut adaptation of the Broadway hit that had starred Lee Remick and Robert Duvall. Whereas Remick had earned a Tony Award nomination for her work, Hepburn matched that with a Best Actress Oscar nomination — the fifth and final one of her distinguished career (she had already won on her first try, for 1953’s Roman Holiday). Hepburn stars as Susy Hendrix, a blind woman who gets terrorized in her own apartment by a trio of crooks searching for a wayward shipment of heroin. Of the three, Mike (Richard Crenna) is the most sensitive while Carlino (Jack Weston) just does what he’s told — the real wild card is group leader Roat (Alan Arkin), soon revealed as a sadist and a killer. Despite nearly all of the action taking place within the confines of a single apartment, the picture amazingly never feels like it was lifted from the stage. Instead, Young (helmer of three of the first four James Bond films) keeps the action fluid and the suspense tight. Those who are used to only seeing Arkin as the sweet old man in such efforts as Argo, Get Smart, and Little Miss Sunshine will be startled by his menacing turn in this picture. Incidentally, one of the Broadway revivals bowed in 1998 and starred Marisa Tomei as Suzy and Quentin Tarantino as Roat — it was roundly panned, with most scribes stating that Tomei was miscast while Tarantino was outright awful.

Movie: ★★★½