FILM FRENZY

John Entwistle, Roger Daltrey, Pete Townshend, and Elton John in Tommy (Photos: Shout! Studios)

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.)

BEST DEFENSE (1984). In 1984, Paramount suits found themselves with a truly awful picture on their hands. Their solution? Make it even more awful! What began life as a star vehicle for Dudley Moore tested so poorly with audiences that the brass decided to offer an ocean liner of money to Eddie Murphy to lend a helping hand. Murphy, who had just made millions for the studio with 1982’s 48 Hrs. and 1983’s Trading Places and was about to make gazillions more with 1984’s Beverly Hills Cop, was hastily tapped to film new scenes for the picture, and he was plugged both in the advertising and in the on-screen credits as “Strategic Guest Star Eddie Murphy.” It was a strategic maneuver that failed miserably, and the film was savaged by critics, by the few audience members who bothered to see it, and by Murphy himself, who admitted he did it only for the loot. The original film focused solely on Wylie Cooper (Moore), a hapless engineer who’s part of a team assigned to create a new super-tank for the U.S. Army. But Cooper is as bad at his job as he is at his stagnant marriage (Kate Capshaw plays his spouse), although matters improve once he acquires a brilliant design created by another inventor (Tom Noonan) who then gets murdered by the KGB. It’s a feeble premise for a movie — didn’t anybody learn anything from 1982’s Chevy Chase-Sigourney Weaver dud Deal of the Century, another painful comedy about American munitions might in war-torn foreign lands? — and it’s made even worse by the addition of the scenes with Murphy, who plays an officer who mans the flawed tank in Kuwait two years later and who never interacts once with Moore or anybody else from the original cast. Seriously, it physically hurt to watch this one.

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

Movie: ★

CHARACTER (1998). An Academy Award winner for Best Foreign Language Film, this delicious Dutch import cleverly uses every facet of its meticulous production to maximize its dramatic worth. Abetted by first-rate cinematography, atmospheric art direction, and a tremendous score that collectively immerse viewers in a somber world, writer-director Mike van Diem spins a rich story about a peculiar form of family dysfunction in the Netherlands of the 1920s. The movie begins with a young lawyer named Katadreuffe (Fedja van Huêt) being arrested for the murder of Rotterdam’s most hated citizen, a tyrannical bailiff named Dreverhaven (Jan Decleir). It’s quickly revealed that Katadreuffe is actually Dreverhaven’s illegitimate son, one produced via a one-time coupling with the bailiff’s former housekeeper, a steely woman named Joda (Betty Schuurman). The remainder of the picture, told primarily in flashbacks, fills in their past history — and reveals whether the son did indeed murder the father. With a visual style that’s all its own — the film hints at influences of Kafka, Dickens, and German expressionism, but it’d be wrong to peg it as an offshoot of any of them — Character is a compelling study of human nature marked with a faint strain of ambiguity that only adds to its puzzling appeal. Decleir’s deliberately sour performance transforms Dreverhaven into a genuinely unsettling character (with a frightening combover to match), while Victor Löw (who, apropos of nothing, sports the most formidable underbite I have ever seen) is particularly good as Katadreuffe’s mumbling mentor at the law firm.

There are no Blu-ray extras.

Movie: ★★★½

THE GENERAL’S DAUGHTER (1999). Ordinary and unconvincing, The General’s Daughter barely rates a sideways glance, let alone a proper salute. In this adaptation of Nelson DeMille’s bestseller, the beautiful and brainy Captain Elisabeth Campbell (Leslie Stefanson) is discovered bound, naked, and very dead in a secluded area on a Georgia military base. Military investigators Paul Brenner (John Travolta) and Sarah Sunhill (Madeleine Stowe) are called to the scene, and, with the help of provost officer (and Brenner’s buddy) Bill Kent (Timothy Hutton), they draw up a long list of suspects and possible motives. Of particular interest is Campbell’s mentor Bob Moore (James Woods), who claims to have loved her, and her father Joe (James Cromwell), a highly respected general. But as they probe deeper into the mystery, they learn that the victim wasn’t just an outstanding officer but also an apparent nymphomaniac whose carnal interest in army grunts (pardon the double entendre) might have been linked to a horrific instance from her past. A scene in which Brenner and Moore engage in cat-and-mouse — make that cat-and-cat — banter is the film’s highlight (Woods, it must be said, has always been as great an actor as he is repellant as a human being), but the rest of this whodunnit is a mix of superfluousness (Brenner’s film-opening investigation), stupidity (Brenner doesn’t solve the mystery as much as he accidentally stumbles from one helpful clue to the next), and sleaziness (the theme of sexual assault is fetishized to an uncomfortable degree).

In related news, back in ‘99, I interviewed Travolta for The General’s Daughter as part of a press junket that took place in Atlanta (the movie was filmed in Georgia, primarily Savannah). In hindsight, my favorite part of the chat was when he discussed the greatness of his upcoming film, Battlefield Earth. Oops.

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray edition include audio commentary by director Simon West; a behind-the-scenes featurette; deleted scenes; and an alternate ending.

Movie: ★★

HOW TO MAKE MILLIONS BEFORE GRANDMA DIES (2024). This lovely picture made history when it became the first movie from Thailand to ever reach the 15-film shortlist for the Best International Feature Film Oscar. Alas, it failed to snag a deserved nomination, but it found its reward at the box office instead, as its impressive global gross of $74 million makes it the all-time top moneymaking Thai film. The title and premise make it sound like a black comedy in the tradition of The Ladykillers or Where’s Poppa?, as an aimless young man known as M (Putthipong Assaratanakul), after learning that his blunt-spoken and independent-minded Grandma (Usha Seamkhum) is predicted to die of cancer within the year, decides that he will take care of her in the hopes that she will leave him her estate. Naturally, there are others jockeying for that position: While M’s mother Sew (Sarinrat Thomas) occasionally assists her mother out of genuine concern, his uncles, one a workaholic (Sanya Kunakorn) and the other a deadbeat (Pongsatorn Jongwilas), only get involved when it potentially might profit them. M is initially as shameless as his uncles, but as he spends more and more time with his granny, he begins to discover her humanity and, consequently, his own. Writer-director Pat Boonnitipat has fashioned a prickly picture that examines the many forms that family dysfunction can take — the scene between the elderly woman and her own brother (Wattana Subpakit) is particularly infuriating and heartbreaking, revealing one of the countless ways knee-jerk sexism can divide people, more so when greed is added to the equation. But Boonnitipat is also mindful of the manifest ways that love can bolster and blossom, and it’s this generosity of spirit that most defines this moving film.

Blu-ray extras include cast & crew interviews and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★★½

THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT! (1974). This compilation flick is pure pleasure from first frame to last. Think of this as the celluloid version of a “Greatest Hits” CD, as MGM waded knee-deep into its vaults and came out with this collection of the greatest moments from their vast library of movie musicals. Naturally, you get the artistry of Fred Astaire, the athleticism of Gene Kelly, and the exuberance of Judy Garland, as well as clips from such staples as The Wizard of Oz and An American In Paris — yet that’s just barely scratching the surface. Among the highlights: Astaire dancing on the ceiling in Royal Wedding, Donald O’Connor’s whirlwind “Make ‘Em Laugh” from Singin’ In the Rain, William Warfield’s powerful “Old Man River” in Show Boat, and Clark Gable’s clumsy but endearing “Puttin’ On the Ritz” from Idiot’s Delight. The bridging host sequences feature such luminaries as Astaire, Kelly, James Stewart, Frank Sinatra, and Elizabeth Taylor. The result was an unexpected box office hit (around $150 million in adjusted 2025 dollars) that incredibly earned more than any other picture released that year by MGM or distributor United Artists, including Woody Allen’s Sleeper, Clint Eastwood’s Thunderbolt and Lightfoot, and even the latest James Bond offering The Man With the Golden Gun.

The sleeper success of That’s Entertainment! led to a follow-up, That’s Entertainment, Part II (1976). This time, the clips include comedy routines by the likes of Laurel and Hardy and the Marx Brothers, a tribute to the team of Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn, and familiar scenes from classic dramas like Gone With the Wind. Still, the focus remains squarely on the musical numbers, among them Judy’s incomparable rendition of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” from Meet Me In St. Louis, Jimmy Durante performing his signature tune “Inka Dinka Doo,” and Bobby Van’s incredible bounce-dance through the neighborhood in Small Town Girl, the latter the obvious inspiration for The J. Geils Band lead singer (and David Lynch’s college roommate!) Peter Wolf’s music video for “Come As You Are.” Whereas the first picture had 11 hosts, this one numbers only two: Astaire and Kelly, who took advantage of the opportunity to dance together on screen for only the second time in their careers (the first was in 1946’s Ziegfeld Follies, reviewed here).

It wasn’t until 18 years later that the studio finally got around to making That’s Entertainment III! (1994). Along with the expected musical highlights from the MGM archives (including a nice montage featuring swimming star Esther Williams), this series entry includes a handful of sequences that never made it to movie screens back in the day — either alternate takes (Garland filming an Annie Get Your Gun number before her nervous breakdown forced her to abandon the project, replaced by Betty Hutton) or deleted scenes (Lena Horne’s bubble-bath crooning in Cabin In the Sky, cut because the studio was nervous about the idea of a naked black woman under all that froth). This one mimics the first flick by packing in the hosts: nine this time, including Horne, Debbie Reynolds, and, yet again, the peerless Kelly.

That’s Entertainment! was reissued late last year in a remastered 50th anniversary Blu-ray edition; extras include the 1974 TV special 50 Years of MGM and the theatrical trailer. The two sequels have not been re-released, but all three films have long been available (since 2007) on Blu-ray in the set That’s Entertainment!: The Complete Collection.

That’s Entertainment!: ★★★★

That’s Entertainment, Part II: ★★★½

That’s Entertainment! III: ★★★½

THE THIRD MAN (1949). This collaboration between director Carol Reed and writer Graham Greene (who also teamed on 1948’s The Fallen Idol and 1959’s Our Man In Havana) is one of those rare birds that improves with subsequent viewings, which is saying a lot since an initial viewing immediately pegs it as a cinematic masterpiece. This British gem, in which hack American author Holly Martins (Joseph Cotten) searches for his shady friend Harry Lime (Orson Welles) in post-WWII Vienna, is notable for many achievements: Welles’ first appearance in the film, rightly regarded as one of the greatest entrances in cinema history; Anton Karas’ excellent zither score, a far cry from the lush orchestrations heard in most motion pictures at the time; the startling cinematography by Robert Krasker, who deservedly received an Academy Award; Greene’s scintillating dialogue (“I don’t want another murder in this case,” Trevor Howard’s Major Calloway tells Martins, “and you were born to be murdered”); and Harry Lime’s legendary “cuckoo clock” speech, written by Welles himself. In addition to Krasker’s win, this earned Oscar nominations for Best Director and Best Film Editing.

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray edition include audio commentary by Guy Hamilton (the future 007 helmer served as an assistant director on this picture), Angela Allen (script supervisor), and actor and Welles biographer Simon Callow; the 2004 making-of documentary Shadowing The Third Man; Cotten’s alternate opening narration; an interactive tour of Vienna; and a performance by zither player Cornelia Mayer.

Movie: ★★★★

TOMMY (1975). The first work promoted as a “rock opera” as well as one of the first concept albums, The Who’s 1969 double-LP Tommy was such a smashing success that film rights were snatched up by producer Robert Stigwood and the directing reins handed to Ken Russell. Somewhat refashioning the original story written by Pete Townshend, Russell delivers a phantasmagoric film that wittily incorporates the filmmaker’s excesses and obsessions. With Townshend and fellow band members John Entwistle and Keith Moon relegated to smaller roles (basically playing themselves), the heavy lifting is done by Roger Daltrey, with the group’s lead singer cast as the title character. Raised by his devoted mother Nora (an excellent Ann-Margret), 5-year-old Tommy (played at this early age by Barry Winch) is struck deaf, mute, and blind after witnessing his mom’s boyfriend Frank (Oliver Reed) murder his father (Robert Powell). Despite his condition, Tommy grows up to become a champion pinball player, and, after he’s miraculously cured, he becomes a charismatic cult leader seeking to spread only joy. Like other rock movies working from musical cues — The Beatles’ marvelous animated feature Yellow Submarine, Pink Floyd’s murky freak-out The Wall — Tommy is naturally more adept at stirring the senses through psychedelia than at telling a strong story, although its digs at the allure of false prophets still resonate. The standout numbers are “Pinball Wizard,” featuring Elton John (and those fabulous boots!), and the climactic “Listening to You,” performed by Daltrey; other noteworthy bits include Tina Turner and “Acid Queen,” anti-vax imbecile Eric Clapton and the cult of Marilyn Monroe, and Jack Nicholson as The Specialist. This earned a Best Actress Oscar nomination for Ann-Margret and a Best Scoring, Adaptation nomination for Townshend.

Surprisingly, the 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray edition offers no extras.

Movie: ★★★

WOLF MAN (2025). Just this week I served as a judge for a film festival in San Diego, one focused exclusively on horror shorts, and among the very best of the flicks I screened was writer-director Michael Trainotti’s werewolf yarn Scratch. I watched it two nights after checking out writer-director Leigh Whannell’s Wolf Man, and it was amusing to note that a 24-minute, low-budget indie effort from an unknown filmmaker was far superior to a 103-minute, expensive studio production from the co-creator of the Saw and Insidious franchises. Universal has had very little success in meaningfully resurrecting its classic movie monsters in the 21st century, and Wolf Man is yet one more for the compost pile. The story finds San Francisco writer Blake Lovell (Christopher Abbott), his wife Charlotte (Julia Garner), and their daughter Ginger (Matilda Firth) visiting his childhood home in Oregon, a remote mountain cabin owned by a father (Sam Jaeger) who has disappeared. Upon reaching the woodsy area, the family is attacked by a rampaging beast — after sustaining injuries, Blake begins to transform both physically and mentally, triggering fear in his loved ones. As much a body-horror offering as a traditional creature feature, Wolf Man feels puny in most regards, from the minimal monster makeup to the shallow pop psychology. The characters are crucially underdeveloped, with Blake the biggest casualty — he’s supposed to be bad-tempered, thus playing into the theme of the beast within, but it’s hardly noticeable. He yells at his daughter as she ignores him while recklessly walking alongside a busy city street; what respectable dad wouldn’t freak out over such a dangerous situation?

Blu-ray extras include audio commentary by Whannell; a look at the werewolf design; and a piece on the visual and sound effects.

Movie: ★½

FROM SCREEN TO STREAM

THE BOY WHO CRIED WEREWOLF (1973) / THE BEAST MUST DIE (1974) / BAD MOON (1996). Where wolf? On streaming, of course, with three more titles to consider beyond Wolf Man.

The Boy Who Cried Werewolf finds a father (Kerwin Mathews) and his young son (Scott Sealy) encountering a wolf man in the woods near the family’s secluded cabin; Pop kills him, but not before being bitten himself. Soon, Dad is transforming into a lycanthrope on a regular basis — his son knows the truth, but he can’t find anyone to believe him. The risible werewolf makeup sinks this picture almost from the start, with some dopey plotting and Sealy’s irksome emoting further sealing the deal. The most creative acting comes from the picture’s scripter, Bob Homel, who’s cast as the leader of a band of roving Christian hippies.

More Agatha Christie than Lon Chaney Jr., The Beast Must Die borrows the reliable Ten Little Indians template and shapes it to meet the demands of its creature-feature trappings. A millionaire (Calvin Lockhart) invites a few folks to spend the weekend with him and his wife (Marlene Clark) on their country estate, waiting until they’re isolated from civilization before revealing that he suspects one of them is a werewolf — and that he plans to hunt and kill the creature before the weekend is up. Peter Cushing costars as a professor well-schooled in lycanthropic legend, while a young Michael Gambon appears as another of the suspects. The twinkly ’70s music, more suited to an episode of Charlie’s Angels than a horror flick, precludes any pretense of genuine suspense. But there is the novelty of “The Werewolf Break,” which gives audiences 30 seconds to figure out the identity of the wolf man (or werewoman). I would generally mention the film’s alternate title, but it reveals the answer!

It’s probably impossible to hate any movie in which the hero is a magnificent German Shepherd, but that angle is about all that Bad Moon has going for it. Adapted by writer-director Eric Red from Wayne Smith’s novel Thor, this stars Mariel Hemingway as a lawyer and single mom living with her young son (Mason Gamble) and their dog Thor. Her photojournalist brother (Michael Paré) comes to visit, and only Thor senses that this beloved family member is now also a fearsome werewolf. Bad Moon is extremely thin on the narrative side and Paré’s character fails to make consistent sense, but the effects aren’t bad.

The Boy Who Cried Werewolf: ★½

The Beast Must Die: ★★½

Bad Moon: ★★

CHOSEN SURVIVORS (1974). It’s the end of the world as we know it, but just before the bombs drop, 10 people and a military supervisor are whisked into an underground lair, tasked with spending the next few years riding out the nuclear aftermath in anticipation of eventually reemerging and repopulating the planet. But before long, they realize that they’re sharing living quarters with thousands of vampire bats that have made their way into the complex from the surrounding caves. Call me charitable, but the plot for Chosen Survivors has always struck me as tasty enough to work as a savory slice of science fiction-cum-horror — a Ten Little Indians scenario with a bloodthirsty twist. Unfortunately, the film wastes its potential thanks to the inert direction by Sutton Roley (a TV-series vet whose big-screen assignments were almost nonexistent), a lackluster screenplay, and a drab assortment of characters who prove to be so lifeless and colorless, it’s a wonder the bats can find any blood to drain from their veins. The performances aren’t bad (Richard Jaeckel, Bradford Dillman, Diana Muldaur, and Barbara Babcock are among the second-tier stars), but because of the time period in which this was made, we shouldn’t be surprised that the principal character, played by Jackie Cooper, isn’t a heroic figure but rather a petty, ill-tempered businessman who proves himself to be both a rapist and a racist! Oh, those wacky ’70s.

Movie: ★★

SIXTEEN CANDLES (1984). Billy Idol and Oingo Boingo appear on the soundtrack. Culture Club and Heather Thomas can be spotted on bedroom posters. Add an Asian character with the decidedly non-PC name of Long Duk Dong (“I gotta sleep under some Chinaman named after a duck’s dork”), and there’s no question Sixteen Candles clearly emerged out of the 1980s. Writer-director John Hughes would make an even more quintessentially ’80s movie the very next year (1985’s The Breakfast Club), but this was the feature that put him on the map as the spokesperson for the younger generation and also propelled Molly Ringwald and Anthony Michael Hall to stardom. Ringwald plays Samantha Baker, who’s mortified that her sister’s upcoming wedding has resulted in her entire family forgetting her 16th birthday. On top of that, the obnoxious in-laws have come for a visit, her dream guy (Michael Schoeffling) is dating a popular blonde (Haviland Morris), and she’s being pursued by a nerd named Ted, aka “The Geek” (Hall). The plotting is crude and haphazard, but the dialogue is amusing and the cast is appealing. Justin Henry, the kid at the center of the divorce in Kramer vs. Kramer, here steals scenes as Samantha’s sarcastic little brother, while siblings John and Joan Cusack both appear as high-school have-nots.

Movie: ★★½

WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE? (1962). By 1962, longtime nemeses Bette Davis and Joan Crawford were both considered has-beens, which meant that the socko box office performance of What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? positioned it as the year’s top sleeper. A macabre slathering of Grand Guignol mixed with mordant humor, this finds Davis relishing her demented turn as Baby Jane Hudson, a former child star now living with — and perpetually torturing — her wheelchair-bound sister Blanche (Crawford). From Davis’ hideous makeup to Victor Buono’s supporting stint as a creepy momma’s boy — and let’s not forget the rat-on-a-platter scene! — this offers an endless stream of indelible moments directed with ghoulish glee by Robert Aldrich. As with many hits, this inspired a trend in cinema, specifically ’60s horror romps featuring aging actresses: Davis in Aldrich’s Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte, Dead Ringer, and The Nanny; Crawford in Strait-Jacket, Berserk, and I Saw What You Did; Olivia de Havilland in Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte and Lady in a Cage; Tallulah Bankhead in Die! Die! My Darling; etc. Nominated for five Academy Awards, including Davis’ 10th and final Best Actress bid and a supporting nod for debuting Buono, this won for Best Black-and-White Costume Design.

Movie: ★★★½