View From the Couch: Babygirl, Companion, Dog Man, etc.
View From The Couch is a weekly column that reviews what’s new on Blu-ray, 4K and DVD.
FILM FRENZY
Your source for movie reviews on the theatrical and home fronts
View From The Couch is a weekly column that reviews what’s new on Blu-ray, 4K and DVD.
Jack Quaid and Sophie Thatcher in Companion (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.)

ADELA HAS NOT HAD SUPPER YET (1978) / THE MYSTERIOUS CASTLE IN THE CARPATHIANS (1981). My first introduction to Czech cinema arrived courtesy of a film-class staple: the 1965 Oscar-winning classic The Shop on Main Street, a powerful drama about the plight of an elderly Jewish woman in WWII Slovakia. But my first introduction to the more whimsical — but no less celebrated — side of Czech cinema was 1988’s Alice, a heady mixture of live-action and stop-motion animation. Written, directed, and designed by Jan Švankmajer, it’s by far the best adaptation of Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland I’ve ever seen, far outpacing Disney’s 1951 toon, that 1933 oddity with Cary Grant, W.C. Fields, and Gary Cooper (reviewed here), the 1966 BBC production starring John Gielgud and Peter Sellers, and of course Tim Burton’s overblown attempts. The Deaf Crocodile label has just released two out-there Czech offerings on Blu-ray — they’re directed by Oldrich Lipský and written by Jirí Brdecka, but it’s nice to see that Švankmajer had a hand in both, providing the visual effects for the first and the props for the second.
Private detective Nick Carter began life as a character in a weekly periodical but soon expanded to dime novels (over 1,000 stories written!), comic strips, radio shows, and motion pictures. One such endeavor was the film Adela Has Not Had Supper Yet, in which the turn-of-the-century private eye (played by Michal Docolomasky) is painted as a vainglorious type whose admirers include both Sherlock Holmes and Thomas Edison. Carter is called to Prague to investigate a socialite’s missing dog — what he uncovers is a labyrinthine plot that involves a carnivorous plant named Adela, an archnemesis known as The Gardener (Milos Kopecky), and the consumption of an enormous amount of Pilsner. Not one nanosecond of this picture is meant to be taken seriously, with the filmmakers piling on the visual oddities and the actors tackling the material with tongue firmly ensconced in cheek. Rudolf Hrusinsky steals the film as the American Carter’s Czech sidekick Ledvia, a police inspector who spends as much time consuming sausages and beer as he does working on the case.

The Mysterious Castle in the Carpathians is even more outrageous than Adela Has Not Had Supper Yet, even if it’s not quite as loose-limbed and amusing. Based on the Jules Verne novel The Carpathian Castle, this finds opera singer Count Teleke of Toloko (Docolomasky) journeying to the rural village of Werewolfston in search of fellow opera star and fiancée Salsa Verde (Evelyna Steimarova), who has been missing. His sleuthing leads him to a castle inhabited by an eccentric baron (Kopecky) and a crazed inventor (Hrusinsky). This one gets weighed down by too much plotting as well as characters who aren’t as vividly realized as those in the previous picture, but there’s nevertheless much to enjoy, particularly the wacky inventions seen throughout the film.
Extras on Adela Has Not Had Supper Yet consist of audio commentary by Czech film expert Irena Kovarova and film critic (and Brdecka’s daughter) Tereza Brdeckova, and four animated shorts by Brdecka: 1963’s Badly Drawn Hen, 1966’s Forester’s Song to the Forest, 1974’s The Miner’s Rose, and 1975’s What Did I Not Tell the Prince. Extras on The Mysterious Castle in the Carpathians consist of audio commentary by Kovarova and Brdeckova; a 2017 feature-length documentary on Brdecka; an interview with Brdeckova; a video essay; and two animated shorts by Brdecka: 1948’s Love and the Zeppelin and 1980’s Prince Copperslick (aka Prince Medenee’s Thirteenth Chamber).
Adela Has Not Had Supper Yet: ★★★½
The Mysterious Castle in the Carpathians: ★★★

BABYGIRL (2024). It makes cosmic sense that the same stretch of time that produced the grotesque post-election quote “Your body, my choice” would also yield a movie that too often encapsulates said message. There absolutely needs to be an increase in movies made by, made for, and made about women aged 40 and over, but one would hope that they would be a bit more challenging and interesting than Babygirl, which basically plays like Fifty Shades of Grey with a classier pedigree. Nicole Kidman headlines as Romy Mathis, a powerful CEO who loves her husband Jacob (Antonio Banderas) but hates their unsatisfying sex life. Enter Samuel (Harris Dickinson), a young intern who introduces Romy to the world of BDSM … with himself as the dominant, of course. This film has many fans, but I have to assume they’re reacting positively to the idea of this sort of relationship as opposed to the specifics of this actual relationship, since Samuel proved to be one of the most obnoxious, immature, and odious characters found in any 2024 release. Dickinson is no match for Kidman in any way, shape, or form, and while it’s true that the actress delivers yet another brave performance — we automatically expect it from her now — it’s not a particularly fresh or surprising one (for a turn that’s both brave and surprising, check out Emma Stone in Poor Things, Carey Mulligan in Promising Young Woman, or even Demi Moore in The Substance). In a country presently dominated by MAGA MRAs, a film exploring a woman’s wants and needs feels like a necessity, but the fuzzy Babygirl rarely gets under the submissive skin.
Blu-ray extras include audio commentary by writer-director Halina Reijn; a piece on the film’s costumes; and deleted scenes.
Movie: ★★

BEHIND THE DOOR (1919) / BELOW THE SURFACE (1920). Unlike Rudolph Valentino, Lon Chaney, or Douglas Fairbanks, Hobart Bosworth was one of the many silent-cinema stars who long ago faded into obscurity among the masses. Yet acting was only a small part of his resume — he also was a producer, director, and writer, although arguably his greatest claim was as one of the pioneers who helped steer the film industry to Los Angeles. Initially a New York stage star before tuberculosis took away his health and his voice, he found success in silent films, and while he did manage to make the transition to talkies, it was primarily as a supporting or bit player. But during the first three decades of the 20th century, he was a key player on over 200 motion pictures, two of which have been restored by the San Francisco Silent Film Festival and released on the Flicker Alley label as a Blu-ray double feature.
Behind the Door is a real grabber, nearly as shocking as anything made today. Bosworth stars as Oscar Krug, a German-American distrusted by the other townspeople once World War I kicks off. But Oscar’s patriotism is no longer questioned once he joins the Navy and eventually becomes captain of his own ship. His wife Alice (Jane Novak) ends up aboard his vessel, a development that turns ghastly once a German U-boat sinks the ship and its commander takes Alice prisoner while leaving Oscar to drown. It might seem perverse to compare a silent flick to Gaspar Noé’s notorious Irreversible, but both inspire the same sickening sense of impending tragedy, with Behind the Door at least more cathartic in its eventual turn toward gruesome retaliation and revenge. If the U-boat commander looks familiar, he’s played by Wallace Beery, who not only survived the switch to talkies but became one of its biggest early stars, co-starring in the 1932 Best Picture Oscar winner Grand Hotel and winning a Best Actor Academy Award for 1931’s The Champ.

Below the Surface doesn’t pack the wallop of Behind the Door, but it’s an effective melodrama that returns Bosworth to a nautical setting. This time, he’s Martin Flint, a respected deep-sea diver who, along with his son Paul (Lloyd Hughes), is hailed as a local hero for saving the lives of the men aboard a disabled submarine. The Flints’ heroics draw the attention of con artist James Arnold (George Webb), who hopes Martin will help him acquire some sunken treasure. When Martin refuses, James employs his own gold-digging girlfriend Edna (Grace Darmond) to ensnare Paul: She makes him fall in love with her, convinces him to partake in the dangerous deep-sea dive, and then cruelly abandons him. It’s up to Martin to save his own son from eternal despair, and it all ends naturally enough out at sea. My favorite bit: Proof of Edna’s wickedness comes courtesy of a letter which lists her awful deeds, including the unforgivable fact that she’s a “well known frequenter of restaurants and night clubs.”
Extras include the original, re-edited Russian version of Behind the Door; original production outtakes from Behind the Door; a piece on Irvin Willat, the director of both films; and slideshow galleries.
Behind the Door: ★★★½
Below the Surface: ★★★

COMPANION (2025). What on the surface looks as if it could be yet another horror yarn off the Blumhouse assembly line is instead a cleverly scripted and zestfully performed fantasy-thriller that compares favorably to two other thematically relevant films (both 2022) that played with genre conventions: Bodies Bodies Bodies (helmed by Babygirl writer-director Halina Reijn) and Barbarian (with which this new film shares producers). If Bodies Bodies Bodies was an attack on preconceived notions shaped by social media and Barbarian was a look at sexual abuse, Companion chooses as its rallying point the issue of identity politics, with an additional topical nod in the direction of AI anxiety. Written and directed by Drew Hancock (a longtime TV fixture making his big-screen debut), this is the sort of film for which a lengthy synopsis would only serve to offer a number of spoilers. Therefore, let’s keep it simple. The movie introduces its central characters, Iris (Sophie Thatcher) and Josh (Jack Quaid), as they experience an initial meet-cute in a grocery store. Cut to some time later, and the lovers are joining some of Jack’s friends — specifically, Kat (Megan Suri) and gay couple Eli (Harvey Guillén) and Patrick (Lukas Gage) — at the remote home of Kat’s boyfriend, shady Russian businessman Sergey (Rupert Friend). A sexual assault occurs, there’s a bloody death-by-robot, and then the movie really kicks into high gear. Ex Machina it ain’t, but between appealing actors fleshing out vibrant characters and plot developments that are fanciful without feeling forced, viewers will find themselves in good company.
Blu-ray extras consist of a trio of making-of featurettes examining the film’s themes and characters.
Movie: ★★★

DOG MAN (2025). While catnip to the kiddies, the latest DreamWorks Animation enterprise can’t help but receive a more mixed reception from those old enough to apply for a driver’s license. On the positive side, this adaptation of Dav Pilkey’s graphic novel series (itself a spin-off of the author’s Captain Underpants series) contains a sizable number of bright jokes (including the usual doggie bag’s worth of tossed-off gags for the grownups) as well as an unusual animation style that becomes easier to take as the film ambles along. Yet its frenzied approach also makes it seem much longer than its 89-minute run time, and there’s a hollow center where a hero ought to be. Dog Man is exactly that — a human-canine hybrid created when doltish Officer Knight and his brave dog Greg get mangled in an explosion, leading scientists to graft the remains together and in the process create a children’s version of RoboCop. Dog Man spends most of his time repeatedly pursuing and apprehending the villainous Petey the Cat (not to be confused with the far more benign Pete the Cat), but his life becomes more complicated once he bonds with Petey’s kitten clone Li’l Petey. The mute Dog Man makes for a rather dull protagonist, so it’s no wonder most of the movie is spent focused on Petey’s antics, although much of it feels extraneous (does the addition of Petey’s elderly and unpleasant dad bring anything substantial to the story?). Still, there’s just enough of note to earn this a mild recommendation — at the very least, select adults will appreciate an unexpected Apocalypse Now shout-out.
Blu-ray extras include audio commentary by writer-director Peter Hastings; a making-of piece; and deleted and extended scenes.
Movie: ★★½

THE END (1978). The End was Burt Reynolds’ second film as director (following 1976’s Gator, reviewed here) as well as the first of two box office hits he headlined in 1978. Hooper (#6 of the year’s top grossers) was more in line with what Reynolds fans expected, while The End (#12) was trickier fare, earning its riches exclusively through the superstar’s presence. Working from a script by TV veteran Jerry Belson (The Odd Couple, The Tracey Ullman Show), Reynolds fashioned an uneven black comedy in which his character of Sonny Lawson learns that he is suffering from an incurable disease and has less than a year to live. Understandably wrecked by the diagnosis, he spends his time making peace with his loved ones, including his girlfriend (Sally Field, then Reynolds’ real-life sweetheart), his ex-wife (Joanne Woodward, none too convincing), his teenage daughter (Kristy McNichol), and his parents (Myrna Loy and Pat O’Brien). Finally deciding to take his own life rather than continue to suffer, he downs a large number of pills — his suicide attempt fails and he ends up in a mental asylum, where he attracts the attention of crazed inmate Marlon (Dom DeLuise). When Sonny reveals that he still plans to off himself, Marlon is only too happy to help. At the time of its release, some critics trashed the film as tasteless since it dared to suggest laughs could be obtained from the topics of death and suicide (had they not already seen such efforts as Little Murders and Harold and Maude?). That’s not the problem with the picture (after all, laughter can be mined from almost anything) — instead, it’s that Reynolds has trouble maintaining a consistent tone, in effect stranding laughs in mawkishness and burying pathos in forced whimsy.
There are no Blu-ray extras.
Movie: ★★½

FLIGHT RISK (2025). Basically a three-hander set at 10,000 feet, director Mel Gibson’s Flight Risk casts Michelle Dockery as Madolyn Harris, a disgraced U.S. Marshal who’s given a chance at redemption when she’s assigned to locate and bring a government witness named Winston (Topher Grace) to trial so he can testify against the mobster for whom he served as an accountant. Finding him hiding out in Alaska, she then charters a small plane to return to civilization, not realizing that the craft’s pilot has been murdered and replaced by a hitman (Mark Wahlberg) hired to kill both passengers. Gibson’s sadistic bent as a filmmaker is well established by now, so it’s not surprising to see the helmer of Braveheart, Apocalypto, and that Jesus snuff film drawn to a script (by Jared Rosenberg) in which the villain constantly yammers about how he’ll rape and torture everyone in sight, and in which a woman repeatedly gets punched in the face about as often as Jack Dempsey did in his boxing heyday. But beyond that, it’s hard to imagine what he thought he could bring to such a threadbare story — it’s certainly not suspense, as he fails to utilize the cramped, claustrophobic setting in any imaginative or exciting manner. With his “Hey, y’all” corn-fed act and balding noggin, Wahlberg offers nothing but stunt casting, while Grace grates with his standard whining ‘n’ wisecracking routine. Meanwhile, Dockery is saddled with a character so broadly defined that only her borderline incompetence and lack of intuition stand out — indeed, it’s her wholehearted embrace of the patriarchy that directly leads to the death of perhaps the saga’s most upstanding player.
Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray + Digital Code edition consist of a making-of featurette and the theatrical trailer.
Movie: ★½

NIGHT MOVES (1975). The missing link between the great paranoia thrillers of the 1970s (The Parallax View, Three Days of the Condor, etc.) and the great neo-noir deconstructions of the 1970s (Chinatown, The Long Goodbye, etc.), Night Moves has finally moved the needle from being one of the most overlooked gems of its decade to at least receiving its due from the more discerning film fans still out there. Working again with Bonnie and Clyde director Arthur Penn, Gene Hackman is typically terrific as Harry Moseby, a private investigator who agrees to head to the Florida Keys to track down a 16-year-old nymphet (Melanie Griffith in her film debut) and bring her back to Los Angeles. Alan Sharp’s excellent script cannily presents a mystery that doesn’t even come into focus until late in the film, and his dialogue is pointed and forceful throughout — “I saw a Rohmer film once. It was like watching paint dry” is now a classic, although “He’d fuck a woodpile on a chance there was a snake in it” is always good for a laugh. James Woods appears in one of his earliest roles as Quentin the fidgety mechanic, and that’s future Adam Sandler handler Dennis Dugan (Grown Ups, Jack and Jill) as the obnoxious guy in the bar. The film’s final six-minute stretch — a masterful marriage of propulsive direction, razor-sharp editing, and thematically weighty scripting — ranks among the finest denouements in all of ‘70s cinema.
Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray edition consist of audio commentary by author Matthew Asprey Gear (Moseby Confidential: Arthur Penn’s Night Moves and the Rise of Neo-Noir); a vintage behind-the-scenes featurette; and a pair of vintage interviews (from 1975 and 1995) with Penn.
Movie: ★★★★

ONE OF THEM DAYS (2025). Because it’s a contemporary comedy aimed at a wide audience, One of Them Days is naturally home to quips involving explosive diarrhea and sight gags focusing on big, bouncing booties. But don’t let this mislead you into believing this is yet one more vulgar, dumdum movie with more sharts than smarts. On the contrary, scripter Syreeta Singleton and director Lawrence Lamont have made a picture that looks at the impossible situations and dire circumstances that have made daily life such a Sisyphean struggle for far too many Americans. Keke Palmer (reliable as always) and singer-songwriter SZA (making her film debut) star as best friends Dreux and Alyssa, roommates who are both trying to get ahead in life (Dreux as a store manager, Alyssa as an artist). Dreux is clearly the brains in this friendship, so she’s aghast when she learns that Alyssa entrusted her freeloader boyfriend Keyshawn (Joshua Neal) to deliver their $1,500 rent money to the landlord (Rizi Timane); instead, he used it for his own purposes and took off, meaning that the women will be homeless unless they can come up with the funds before day’s end. One of Them Days is one of them race-against-the-clock comedies, but two strong leads, colorful supporting characters (including Aziza Scott as basically a female Terminator), and an undercurrent of societal angst succeed in making it both fresh and funny. The happy ending doesn’t exactly come about organically — some plot points have to be forced — but it’s certainly the one audiences desire. Best bit: the predatory loan bank offering 1,900.5% APR (“Damn, I thought that was the year of establishment”).
Blu-ray extras include a look at the film’s cast and a gag reel.
Movie: ★★★

FROM SCREEN TO STREAM
DEADTIME STORIES (1986). Among the many horror anthology films that have appeared over the decades, this ranks as one of the worst. The framing device finds an impatient uncle (Michael Mesmer) spinning a trio of “freaky fairytales” (the film’s UK title) in an effort to get his bratty nephew (Brian DePersia) to go to sleep. The first finds Scott Valentine (TV’s Family Ties) as a meek servant to two witches (Phyllis Craig and Anne Redfern) plotting to resurrect their sister by kidnapping and killing a comely peasant woman (Kathy Fleig). The second is a modern variation on Little Red Riding Hood, with Rachel (Nicole Picard) being stalked by a drug addict (Matt Mitler) who turns into a werewolf if he doesn’t receive his fix in time. And the third is a takeoff on Goldilocks and the Three Bears, with a murderous — and telekinetic, because why not? — sexpot named Goldi Lox (Cathryn DePrume) joining forces with a psychotic clan consisting of MaMa Baer (Melissa Leo), Papa Baer (Kevin Hannon), and the mentally challenged Baby Baer (Timothy Rule). Not even some imaginative (if generally unconvincing) effects can save this amateurish slop — still, it’s probably worth a watch for those folks interested in seeing Leo deliver a performance that’s only slightly more broad than the one that inexplicably won her a Best Supporting Actress Academy Award for 2010’s The Fighter.
Movie: ★

EDDIE AND THE CRUISERS (1983) / EDDIE AND THE CRUISERS II: EDDIE LIVES! (1989). Grueling is probably the best way to describe this pair of tone-deaf rock flicks.
To be fair, the first Eddie and the Cruisers has gained quite a cult following since 1983, one that actually began a year after it flopped in theaters. Gaining newfound exposure when it aired on HBO in 1984, the film soon found itself with a hit soundtrack by John Cafferty & The Beaver Brown Band, whose single “On the Dark Side” (played ad nauseam throughout both films) reached #7 on the Billboard chart. That Cafferty’s tunes sound more like the ’80s-era Springsteen wannabe songs that they were rather than the ’60s-era hits they were supposed to be marks just one of the many head-smacking elements found in this sloppily constructed picture about Eddie Wilson (Michael Paré), whose Jersey band was headed toward the big time until he drove his car off a pier, supposedly perishing in the accident/suicide (his body was never found). Twenty years later, a plucky magazine reporter (Ellen Barkin) sets out to discover the true story of Eddie Wilson, interviewing his former band members (including one played by top-billed Tom Berenger) and, like everyone else, trying to figure out what happened to the master tapes for Eddie’s unreleased second album, which disappeared a day after his supposed death. The film’s mystery angle regarding the missing tapes is ludicrous, thus making it right at home alongside every other half-witted development in this cheesy undertaking.

With a $4.7 million haul, Eddie and the Cruisers was a box office underachiever, yet it seems as successful as Avengers: Endgame when compared to Eddie and the Cruisers II: Eddie Lives! One of those sequels that absolutely no one wanted (see also The Sting II, Return to the Blue Lagoon, etc.), this grossed a desultory $536,000, resulting in an almost immediate yank from theaters. For those who can’t figure it out from the title (in which case, SPOILER!), Eddie didn’t actually die but instead faked his own death, so he could spend 20 years working incognito on a construction crew in Canada. But renewed interest in the original ’60s band — cue the cameo by MTV VJ Martha Quinn as well as one by the then-ubiquitous Larry King — means that the spotlight Eddie has long avoided might be starting to shine his way. As the moody and mysterious (and, let’s face it, obnoxious) Eddie, the one-note Paré ably demonstrates why his flame burned out rather quickly during the ’80s, and the movie itself suggests that, while rock ‘n’ roll will never die, it can periodically get buried under a mountain of mediocrity.
Eddie and the Cruisers: ★½
Eddie and the Cruisers II: Eddie Lives!: ★½

RICH MAN, POOR MAN (1976) / RICH MAN, POOR MAN: BOOK II (1976-1977). As Tim Brooks and Earle Marsh noted in their invaluable book The Complete Directory to Prime Time Network TV Shows, “If it had not been overshadowed so quickly by Roots, Rich Man, Poor Man would probably be ranked today as the biggest dramatic spectacular in the history of television.” Even with the Alex Haley phenomenon appearing a mere 12 months later, the impact of this adaptation of Irwin Shaw’s bestselling novel cannot be overstated. For starters, it’s acknowledged as television’s first miniseries, or at least the one that led to the format’s rampant popularity for decades to follow. Comprised of eight episodes, it focuses on “good son” Rudy Jordache (Peter Strauss) and “bad son” Tom Jordache (Nick Nolte), and how their lives are shaped and changed over the 20-odd years of their adult lives starting in the mid-1940s. Susan Blakeley co-stars as Rudy’s lifelong love Julie Prescott, William Smith appears as the ruthless Falconetti (one of the decade’s most memorable heavies), and a wide array of aged movie stars (Ray Milland, Dorothy McGuire, Van Johnson, etc.) and popular TV stars (including Robert Reed, Bill Bixby, and Ed Asner in an Emmy Award-winning performance as the Jordache boys’ brutal dad) appear in supporting roles.
A ratings bonanza — it was the second most-watched show that season, under All in the Family — the show picked up a whopping 23 Emmy nominations (but only won four) and led to the release later that year of Rich Man, Poor Man: Book II. Running 21 episodes, this continues the saga of the Jordache clan, retaining some characters and cast members from the first series while adding some young blood, primarily Gregg Henry as Tom’s son and James Carroll Jordan as Julie’s son. Book II isn’t quite as compelling as Book I — the absence of one of the first part’s principal players takes it down a notch, and the ending is painfully abrupt — but it still qualifies as must-see TV, now as much as back in the day.
Rich Man, Poor Man: ★★★★
Rich Man, Poor Man: Book II: ★★★½

WONDERLAND (2003). “John Holmes” and “Rashomon” aren’t two cinematic staples that would normally turn up in the same sentence, yet Akira Kurosawa’s m.o. of using varying viewpoints to relate the same sequence of events is employed in this muddy dramatization of the infamous Wonderland killings that took place in the hedonistic Los Angeles of 1981. Four druggies were brutally murdered in what appeared to be retaliation for the robbery of sleazy entrepreneur Eddie Nash (Eric Bogosian), and the extent of the involvement of porn star John Holmes (Val Kilmer, RIP), at that point a has-been with a severe coke habit, has always been the question at the center of this sordid affair. Director-cowriter James Cox offers his own spin to the saga, yet what emerges is a shallow recreation of an era, of a lifestyle, and of a counterculture — in short, a pale facsimile of Paul Thomas Anderson’s superb Boogie Nights. The involvement of a porn superstar is doubtless what inspired Cox to tackle this material in the first place — material that otherwise would most likely have been completely forgotten by time — yet Holmes is such a featureless character that he comes across no more defined than any generic Tom, Big Dick or Harry. A few actors make momentary impressions — Lisa Kudrow as Holmes’ estranged wife, Kate Bosworth as his teenage girlfriend — yet most (Janeane Garofalo, Christina Applegate) are kept in the shadows, as hard to make out as this movie’s ultimate intentions.
Movie: ★★
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