FILM FRENZY

Sean Connery in You Only Live Twice (left) and Goldfinger (Photo: 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.)

BOTTOMS (2023). It might not quite deserve a spot at the head of the class alongside 2019’s Booksmart (reviewed here), but as a similar look at two unpopular high school girls seeking acceptance, Bottoms makes the grade. Rachel Sennott (who also co-wrote the script with director Emma Seligman) and Ayo Edebiri respectively play PJ and Josie, two lesbians who aren’t unpopular because they’re gay but because they’re “ugly, untalented gays.” Each has an eye on a different cheerleader — PJ on Isabel (Havana Rose Liu) and Josie on Brittany (Kaia Gerber) — but they can only lust from a distance as Isabel is dating the star quarterback, a moron named Jeff (Nicholas Galitzine), while Brittany doesn’t seem particularly interested in any member of either sex. For various reasons, including the chance for more time spent with Isabel and Brittany, PJ and Josie start a self-defense class for women — it soon becomes known as a fight club, with the girls feeling empowered by their ability to punch each other out. But the club also allows these teenagers to form a bond, one that threatens to get unraveled if the others learn why the club was started in the first place. Whenever the best performers are picked for all the roles, then half the battle is already won — that’s certainly the case here, with everyone carving out memorable characterizations. The two relative newbies deserve a special shout-out, with Ruby Cruz particularly memorable as the gay Hazel and former NFL star running back Marshawn “Beast Mode” Lynch hilarious as a history teacher who becomes an ally … sort of. Some outlandish developments weigh down the third act, but overall, this remains a bright and brainy comedy.

Blu-ray extras include audio commentary by Seligman; audio commentary by Sennott, Edebiri, Cruz, Liu, and Gerber; a making-of featurette; deleted scenes; and outtakes.

Movie: ★★★

ELIZABETH TAYLOR 4-FILM COLLECTION (1950-1967). Fans of Elizabeth Taylor will enjoy the opportunity to catch a quadruple feature showcasing the actress, with the Warner Archive Collection offering four of her titles in one Blu-ray edition. Two more four-flick sets hitting Blu (and to be reviewed here in the coming weeks) center on Clark Gable and Gary Cooper.

A genuine cinematic treasure, Father of the Bride (1950) finds Spencer Tracy delivering what I would deem his finest performance — he’s Stanley Banks, whose staid family life turns increasingly hectic once his oldest child and only daughter, Kay (Taylor, perhaps never lovelier), announces that she’s going to get married. Stanley’s wife Ellie (Joan Bennett) handles the situation gracefully, but “Pops” is a mess, worrying about the mounting bills, contending with a fussy wedding coordinator (Leo G. Carroll), and mourning the loss of both his beloved daughter and his own youth. The laughs never stop cascading off the screen — I love Stanley’s reaction once he sees which of Kay’s many suitors has managed to win her heart, and there’s a startling dream sequence that would be more at home in Hitchcock’s Spellbound or even the later cult flick Carnival of Souls — but what makes the movie, and particularly Tracy’s performance, so exceptional is the manner in which it gently brings up the unavoidable heartbreak in this most enduring and celebrated of traditions. Father of the Bride earned three major Academy Award nominations: Best Picture, Best Screenplay (Frances Goodrich and Albert Hackett), and, of course, Best Actor for Tracy. This was remade (with mediocre results but sizable box office) in 1991, with Steve Martin taking over the Tracy role.

The F. Scott Fitzgerald short story “Babylon Revisited” is the basis for The Last Time I Saw Paris (1954), a fairly effective soaper set after the end of World War II. Sisters Helen and Marion Ellswirth (Taylor and Donna Reed) both fall for writer Charles Wills (Van Johnson); he ends up going for Helen, but their strained marriage finds him cavorting with a man-hungry socialite (Eva Gabor) and her with a suave tennis player (Roger Moore in one of his first significant roles). Interest is initially maintained in trying to decide which spouse will be revealed as a rotter, but once that’s established, the film struggles with its bathetic components.

A landmark production that also marked the directorial debut of Mike Nichols — he would helm The Graduate the very next year, deservedly winning the Oscar for his efforts — Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966) sparked a hailstorm of controversy at the time of its initial release. Screenwriter Ernest Lehman’s blistering adaptation of Edward Albee’s play finds Richard Burton and then-wife Liz both sensational as, respectively, college professor George and his wife Martha, whose bloody verbal battles are tumultuous enough to ensnare a young couple (George Segal and Sandy Dennis) who have no idea what sort of evening the older pair have in store for them. With its frank dialogue and adult themes, this became the first film to earn the designation, “No one under the age of 18 admitted without a parent or guardian,” and its envelope-pushing (along with similar edge-shredding by 1965’s The Pawnbroker and 1967’s Bonnie and Clyde, among others) helped pave the way for the restrictive Production Code to be replaced by the MPAA rating scale that (with some minor modifications) we still have today. Nominated for an impressive 13 Academy Awards (including bids for Burton, Segal, Nichols, Lehman, and Best Picture), this earned five Oscars: Best Actress, (Taylor), Supporting Actress (Dennis), Cinematography (Haskell Wexler), Black-and-White Art Direction-Set Decoration, and Black-and-White Costume Design. It’s one of the Academy’s black marks that Burton didn’t win the Best Actor Oscar for his remarkable, career-capping performance.

It makes sense that Reflections in a Golden Eye was released in 1967, the year that, as noted above, cinema really began to expand and experiment. Even so, this adaptation of Carson McCullers’ novel is such a unique motion picture experience that it’s no wonder it flopped with moviegoers and most critics (Roger Ebert, on the other hand, awarded it four stars and lambasted the audience “who found it necessary to shriek loudly and giggle hideously through three-quarters of it”). Directed by John Huston, a filmmaker never known for balking at challenges, this bizarre picture stars Marlon Brando as Major Weldon Penderton, an officer stationed at a Southern army post. A tightly wound and repressed man, Weldon is married to Leonora (Taylor), the oil to his vinegar. Leonora barely tries to conceal her adulterous relationship with another officer, Lieutenant Colonel Morris Langdon (Brian Keith), from either her husband or Langdon’s fragile wife Alison (Julie Harris). Playing further key roles in the dramatics are Leonora’s beloved horse Firebird, Alison’s Filipino houseboy Anacleto (Zorro David, one and done after his only film appearance), and Private Williams (Robert Forster in his film debut), an oddball who lusts after Leonora and is himself desired by Weldon. Decent Brando performances were hard to come by in the 1960s, yet this is one of his better turns during the decade — he fits right in with the film’s mix of kinkiness and cuckoldry. Incidentally, Huston originally released Reflections in a Golden Eye with the entire film bathed in, naturally enough, a golden hue. After playing theatrically for only a week, Warner yanked the gold-plated picture and replaced it with a normal color version. (Both versions are included in this set.)

Extras on Father of the Bride consist of newsreel footage of President Truman meeting the cast and of Taylor’s wedding to Nicky Hilton (the marriage lasted all of nine months, due to his drinking, his drug use, and her miscarriage after he kicked her in the stomach), and the theatrical trailer. Extras on The Last Time I Saw Paris consist of the Oscar-nominated 1954 Tom & Jerry cartoon Touché, Pussy Cat! and the theatrical trailer. Extras on Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? consist of audio commentary by Nichols and fellow director Steven Soderbergh; audio commentary by Wexler; a making-of featurette; a 1966 interview with Nichols; a piece on the controversy; the 1975 TV documentary Elizabeth Taylor: An Intimate Portrait; Dennis’ screen test; and theatrical trailers for four Taylor-Burton films. Extras on Reflections in a Golden Eye consist of behind-the-scenes footage and the theatrical trailer.

Father of the Bride: ★★★★

The Last Time I Saw Paris: ★★½

Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?: ★★★★

Reflections in a Golden Eye: ★★★

THE HOUSES OF DOOM (1989). The story goes that horror masters Lucio Fulci (Zombie, The Beyond) and Umberto Lenzi (Cannibal Ferox, Nightmare Beach, the latter reviewed here) were approached to create The Houses of Doom, a horror series for Italian television with each filmmaker tackling two tales. Considering the first 30 minutes of the first film contains a scene in which a woman gets stabbed in the stomach and her innards are shown spilling out, and another scene in which a man places a kitten in a plastic bag to watch it suffocate, this did not seem like a marriage made in heaven. So were Fulci and Lenzi fools for thinking they could get away with their usual gore on TV? Or were the producers morons for thinking these men would tamp down on their general modus operandi for the boob tube? I lean toward the latter; at any rate, the films naturally did not air on television and haven’t always been readily available over the years. Kudos to Cauldron Films, then, for bringing all four films to Blu-ray (each sold separately) in uncut and restored editions.

Fulci’s The House of Clocks focuses on an elderly couple (Paolo Paoloni and Bettine Milne) living in, yup, a house full of clocks. Three young thieves (Keith Van Hoven, Karina Huff, and Peter Hintz) decide to engage in some B&E, but things go wrong and the aged homeowners end up dead. But why are the clocks suddenly running backward? And what’s with the dead bride and groom in the backroom? The House of Clocks doesn’t really make sense, but it’s unique enough to hold interest, and the twist ending is effective.

Fulci’s The Sweet House of Horrors is the only dud in the bunch. After a happily married couple (Pascal Persiano and Lubka Lenzi) are viciously murdered by a masked thief, their two little kids Sarah and Marco (Ilary Blasi and Giuliano Gensini) remain in their home under the care of their Aunt Marcia and Uncle Carlo (Cinzia Monreale and Jean-Christophe Bretigniere). Once it’s established that their dead parents are present in the form of two flickering flames, the kids are adamant that they will never leave the house. This one’s poorly paced and not particularly arresting, and it’s a chore watching two terrible child actors play two utterly unlikable brats.

The series gets back on track with Lenzi’s The House of Witchcraft, which proves to be the best of the quartet. Journalist Luke Palmer (Andy J. Forest), suffering from nightmares that leave him exhausted, is taken by his witchy (literally) wife (Sonia Petrovna) to a country home for some R&R — upon arriving, he recognizes the abode as the one from his dreams. This one benefits from numerous fleshed-out characters and an appropriate air of mystery, and the woman (Maria Cumani Quasimodo) in Luke’s dreams is a truly disturbing figure.

Lenzi’s The House of Lost Souls is an old-school haunted house thriller with plenty of new-school gore. Six young travelers find themselves forced to seek shelter in a hotel that looks like it’s been abandoned for years. It’s not long before a number of ghosts lead to some pretty grisly demises, leading the survivors to research the place in order to understand what’s going on. The gotcha fade-out feels tacked on, but this is nevertheless an above-average ghost story with a slasher flick mentality.

Blu-ray extras on all the releases include film historian audio commentary and interviews with various cast and crew members.

The House of Clocks: ★★½

The Sweet House of Horrors: ★½

The House of Witchcraft: ★★★

The House of Lost Souls: ★★½

I’LL SLEEP WHEN I’M DEAD (2004). Director Mike Hodges and leading man Clive Owen enjoyed great success with the irresistible 1999 arthouse hit Croupier, and they reunited a few years later for I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead. Unlike Croupier, though, this one was a commercial bust ($360,000 stateside) and critical underachiever. A major complaint from the naysayers was that it’s too low-key and doesn’t really lead anywhere, but in this case, those are actually pluses. Owens stars as Will Graham, a former London gangster who grew tired of the lifestyle and basically went off-grid, leaving the city for the country, living in a trailer, and working as a lumberjack. His younger brother Davey still lives in London, fancies himself a cool cat, and spends his time partying, womanizing, and selling the occasional drug. After he’s raped by a mysterious man (Malcolm McDowell), Davey heads home and commits suicide. Davey’s best friend Mickser (a fine turn by Jamie Foreman) manages to get in touch with Will, who returns to London determined to understand what happened to his sibling. Will’s mere presence sends shockwaves through the criminal underground, as everyone, particularly mob boss Frank Turner (Ken Stott), wonders if he’s back for good. Scripter Trevor Preston does a good job of doling out information on an as-needed basis, presenting viewers with limited knowledge and leaving the characters completely in the dark — it’s an angle that works well with Hodges’ slow-burn approach. This was Hodges’ final film; interestingly, his first was the 1971 Michael Caine cult hit Get Carter, which also sported a storyline about a gangster returning to his home turf in England to investigate the death of his brother.

Blu-ray extras include audio commentary by Hodges and Preston; a making-of featurette; and deleted scenes.

Movie: ★★★

LEAN ON ME (1989). Director John G. Avildsen loves underdog stories. His two most popular pictures in this vein remain 1976’s Rocky (for which he won the Best Director Oscar) and 1984’s The Karate Kid. In Rocky, the underdog lets his fists do the talking. In The Karate Kid, the underdog lets his feet do the talking. And in Avildsen’s Lean on Me, the underdog lets his talking do the talking. Loosely based on a true story (but with more uplift, naturally), this stars Morgan Freeman as educator Joe Clark, who becomes the new principal at Eastdale High in Paterson, New Jersey. Eastdale High is known for the lawlessness promoted by many of its students, and its standing as one of the worst schools in terms of academic scores and even basic learning skills means that the situation must improve or the school will be turned over to the state. Enter Clark, who immediately expels 300 students known to be drug dealers, thieves, or troublemakers of any sort. He’s initially hated by pretty much everyone, as he berates the teachers as fiercely as he does the students. But his hard-nosed approach eventually yields results, and as he loosens up (slightly), he becomes appreciated by faculty members and students alike. Not surprisingly, Freeman is the main reason to see this, as he tackles his first leading role in an intense and uncompromising manner. The film isn’t interested in gray areas, with every action taken by Clark resulting in success and those against him painted as villains or idiots (Lynne Thigpen is the most prominent victim, portraying a foaming-at-the-mouth parent who’s constantly scheming behind the scenes to get him fired). But those seeking inspiration and uplift could do a lot worse.

The only Blu-ray extra is the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★★

MYSTERY STREET (1950). Given the current situation of a bullying ignoramus waging a petty and spiteful war against Harvard University, it’s interesting to catch a movie in which the institution plays a key supporting role. The story focuses on the murder of Vivian Heldon (Jan Sterling), a party girl who lets her married boyfriend (Edmon Ryan) know that she’s pregnant and she’s not going to remain quiet about their affair. He kills her and disposes of the body; months later, a skeleton is found, and detective Peter Morales (Ricardo Montalban) is assigned to the case. Identifying the victim understandably proves to be difficult, so he turns to Dr. McAdoo (Bruce Bennett), a forensics expert at Harvard Medical School who uses the tools at his disposal to help crack the case. Meanwhile, an innocent man (Marshall Thompson) is arrested for the crime, while Vivian’s former landlady (Elsa Lanchester) has ascertained the murderer’s identity and attempts to blackmail him. Here was Bones long before there was Bones, as the hit TV series would later focus on a character who, like Dr. McAdoo, helps put away criminals by studying human remains. The methodical police work is one of the more intriguing aspects of the film, and Morales is allowed to be more than just a standard know-it-all detective as he requires ample aid to solve this case (and he’s the one who arrests the wrong man!). Lanchester is excellent as the busybody landlady whose meddling could potentially derail the case. This earned an Oscar nomination for Best Motion Picture Story.

Blu-ray extras consist of audio commentary by film historians Alain Silver and Elizabeth Ward (co-authors of Film Noir: The Encyclopedia); a retrospective behind-the-scenes piece; the 1950 Tom & Jerry cartoons Little Quacker and Tom and Jerry in the Hollywood Bowl; and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★★

SEAN CONNERY JAMES BOND 007 COLLECTION (1962-1971). Going by just the title on the spine — Sean Connery 6-Film Collection — one might assume that this 4K release could possibly include a head-spinning mix like Darby O’Gill and the Little People, Zardoz, and Highlander II: The Quickening. But the odd and extremely busy cover design, which looks as if it was designed by a rogue AI, states (in large letters) Sean Connery (in tiny letters) as Ian Fleming’s James Bond 007 (back to big letters) 6-Film Collection. That’s rather clunky, but it gets the point across — namely, that this set offers all six of the films in the official series starring Connery as the secret agent with a licence to thrill.

The first movie to feature James Bond, Dr. No (1962) seems almost quaint when compared to the pictures that followed, but that’s hardly meant as a knock. While there are no fancy gadgets, souped-up cars or flying jet-packs, there is a gripping thriller in which Bond, James Bond (Connery), investigates the disappearance of a fellow agent and winds up tangling with a scientist (Joseph Wiseman) plotting to take down the U.S. space program. As Honey Ryder, Ursula Andress patented the concept of the Bond babe. John Kitzmiller is solid as the good-natured (but ill-fated) Quarrel, while Jack Lord, six years before Hawaii Five-O, had the honor of playing the screen’s first Felix Leiter.

From Russia With Love (1963) was Connery’s favorite Bond movie, and it was based on John F. Kennedy’s favorite Bond book — and who are we to argue with their tastes? The second movie in the series slowly introduces more gizmos to the template, but the story still takes precedent, with Bond trying to keep a decoder out of the hands of nefarious SPECTRE spooks. It’s hard to ascertain who’s more lethal: Rosa Klebb (Lotte Lenya), with those poison-tipped shoes, or Red Grant (Robert Shaw), with that hulking frame (and blinding peroxide hair).

The best Bond movie? It’s the easy choice. The obvious choice. The safe choice. It’s also the best choice, a no-brainer. Everything that’s great about the James Bond franchise can be found in Goldfinger (1964). The best 007 (Connery). A superb master villain in Auric Goldfinger (Gert Fröbe). A dangerous henchman in the bowler-chucking Oddjob (Harold Sakata). An alluring and brainy beauty in Pussy Galore (Honor Blackman). A knockout theme song (performed by Shirley Bassey). Iconic images (including the sight of a gold-plated Shirley Eaton). And the best snatch of dialogue in all 007 movies: “Do you expect me to talk?” “No, Mr. Bond, I expect you to die!” This was the first 007 entry to not only be nominated for an Academy Award but also to win one, with the picture scoring for Best Sound Effects.

Until 1979’s Moonraker, Thunderball (1965) was the most successful Bond film at the domestic box office, and, when adjusted for inflation, it still stands at number one (and Goldfinger still stands at number two). So consider it my pick for the most overrated movie in the franchise. Of course, it’s not without its merits — starting with the presence of Connery — but as SPECTRE mastermind Emilio Largo, Adolfo Celi is ludicrously miscast, looking as if he would rather be inhaling a plate of spaghetti than threatening the world with stolen nuclear warheads. And the climactic underwater skirmish goes on forever. This nabbed the Oscar for Best Visual Effects.

With a script by Charlie and the Chocolate Factory author Roald Dahl, You Only Live Twice (1967) features the definitive screen Blofeld in Donald Pleasence, whose portrayal inspired the Dr. Evil character in the Austin Powers trilogy. Bond gets killed (sort of); Bond gets married (sort of); Bond falls into a volcano (sort of); and Bond mixes it up with ninjas (definitely). This one’s a lot of fun, even if the sight of Connery pretending to be Japanese merits an involuntary wince/giggle. Added bonus: Nancy Sinatra’s lovely title song (written by John Barry and Leslie Bricusse).

When he made You Only Live Twice, Connery was tired of playing Bond and bailed on the next film in the series, 1969’s On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (with George Lazenby in his only stint as 007). Connery was offered a then-record 1.25 million dollars to return to the series for Diamonds Are Forever (1971). It would be his final appearance in the official series, and he goes out in style by once again battling SPECTRE’s Blofeld (Charles Gray), dallying with imaginatively named beauties (Jill St. John as Tiffany Case and Lana Wood as Plenty O’Toole), and contending with villainous henchmen (the gay couple Mr. Kidd and Mr. Wint, played by Putter Smith and Bruce Glover). This earned an Oscar nomination for Best Sound; oddly, not one of the memorable theme songs from the Connery Bond flicks (nor even Louis Armstrong’s gorgeous “We Have All the Time in the World” from Lazenby’s OHMSS) was acknowledged by the Academy.

All of the bonus features are brought over from previous Blu-ray and DVD releases. These include audio commentaries on all six films by their respective directors as well as select cast and crew members; vintage making-of featurettes; pieces on the various films’ location shooting; and numerous theatrical trailers, TV spots, and radio spots.

Dr. No: ★★★½

From Russia With Love: ★★★½

Goldfinger: ★★★★

Thunderball: ★★½

You Only Live Twice: ★★★

Diamonds Are Forever: ★★★

SEEKING A FRIEND FOR THE END OF THE WORLD (2012). Most critics at the time of its release gave writer-director Lorene Scafaria’s Seeking a Friend for the End of the World a bad review; I ended up placing it on my 10 Best of 2012 list. After all, this is the sort of top-notch humanistic picture that’s always appreciated at a time when most other movies are striving to be the biggest and the loudest. This one is small in scope and focus, even as it touches upon enormous issues. The narrative states that an asteroid is heading to Earth, and as we join the story, we learn that all hope is lost and the planet will only be inhabitable for another few weeks. The different ways in which people might react to their impending doom are shown, and every single avenue of action rings true. Some party 24/7; others continue to show up for work; some folks go on a destructive rampage; and so on. And then there’s Dodge (Steve Carell), who pretty much just wants to be left alone — a desire that goes unfulfilled after he meets his neighbor Penny (Keira Knightley). Pairing a buttoned-down man with a quirky free spirit is a plot device that’s been employed in hundreds — nay, thousands — of films, but this one takes care not to turn into a standard comedy about a mismatched odd couple. Dodge and Penny aren’t presented as extremes, which makes it easier to believe that these two could emotionally and intellectually meet somewhere in the middle. Ultimately, this seriocomedy suggests that the world will probably end not with a bang and not even with a whimper, but rather with a whisper — one most likely shared between two people whose decency and compassion cannot be snuffed out.

Blu-ray extras include audio commentary by Scafaria, her mom(?), co-stars Adam Brody and Patton Oswalt, and producer Joy Gorman; a making-of piece; and outtakes.

Movie: ★★★½

THREE COMRADES (1938). F. Scott Fitzgerald’s career as a Hollywood screenwriter was anything but a raging success. While many of his novels and stories were turned into movies by others (including The Last Time I Saw Paris, reviewed above), and while he worked behind the scenes throughout the ‘30s to help shore up shaky scripts penned by other writers, he astonishingly only received one actual screenwriting credit. It was for Three Comrades, an adaptation of the novel by All Quiet on the Western Front author Erich Maria Remarque. Even here, it wasn’t smooth sailing — some of the actors had trouble with Fitzgerald’s more formal dialogue, requiring the services of another scripter (Edward Paramore) as well as that of the film’s producer, future All About Eve writer-director Joseph L. Mankiewicz. And then there was the intervention of the Hays Office and its weaselly head Joseph Breen. Fitzgerald retained Remarque’s digs at Hitler’s Germany, but not wanting to offend the Nazis (a tact ABC and Google seem to be taking these days), Breen ordered that the story be set earlier and all mentions of German fascists, anti-Semitism, and book burnings be removed. The result, then, is a good story without much bite, a melodrama that’s saved from its soapy side by its leading lady. Margaret Sullavan earned a Best Actress Oscar nomination for playing Pat, a young woman who befriends three lifelong buddies who are trying to rebuild their lives immediately following World War I. Pat deeply cares for the sensible Otto (Franchot Tone) and the emotional Gottfried (Robert Young), but her heart belongs to Erich, who, because he’s played by the perpetually stiff and sleepy Robert Taylor, doesn’t have enough personality to be assigned an adjective.

Blu-ray extras consist of the 1938 live-action shorts How to Raise a Baby and The Face Behind the Mask, and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★½

FROM SCREEN TO STREAM: LGBTQ Films for Pride Month

BEGINNERS (2011). Written and directed by Mike Mills, Beginners is a disarming, deeply felt, and somewhat autobiographical piece in which an artist named Oliver (Ewan McGregor) recalls his recently deceased father Hal (Christopher Plummer), who announced he was gay at the age of 75 but passed away from cancer four years later. As Oliver reflects on his dad, he meets and falls for Anna (Melanie Laurent), a French actress who ultimately decides she wants something meaningful out of their relationship. In any other movie, the key supporting character of Arthur, a soulful Jack Russell terrier, would draw all the audience attention away from the two-legged protagonists — and kudos to Mills for somehow making the gimmicky device of subtitling the dog’s thoughts work — but the performances by the three leads are so superb that everyone is able to share in the glory. Best of all is Plummer, who deservedly snagged the Best Supporting Actor Academy Award for his rich portrayal. A subtle, sensitive picture about love, loss, and loneliness, this is one to seek out.

Movie: ★★★½

MAURICE (1987). The tony team of director James Ivory and producer Ismail Merchant earned sizable art-house income, critical raves, and boatloads of awards for two of their three E.M. Forster adaptations, 1986’s A Room With a View and 1992’s Howards End. Maurice, an adaptation of the novel that (as per Forster’s wishes) only became published following the author’s death in 1970, largely slipped through the cracks at the time of its initial release, although it’s worth another look. Certainly, the film’s place in gay cinema was cemented from the start, since it offered a refreshingly honest and sympathetic look at homosexuality in the age of Ronald Reagan and AIDS. James Wilby stars as the title character, a Cambridge lad who ends up in a loving yet platonic relationship with fellow student Clive Durham (Hugh Grant). Yet societal expectations — to say nothing of England’s abhorrent punishments for anyone caught engaging in homosexual acts — temper their actions and expectations, with Clive reluctantly gravitating toward women and Maurice seeking help from a doctor (Ben Kingsley) who employs hypnotism as a cure. A protracted running time allows much of the story’s passion to seep out, but this remains an impressive and even important motion picture. Jenny Beavan and John Bright, who picked up the Best Costume Design Oscar the previous year for A Room With a View, earned another nomination for their work here.

Movie: ★★★

MY OWN PRIVATE IDAHO (1991). With My Own Private Idaho, Gus Van Sant made what in essence is a homosexual road movie that espouses the family values of a Disney feature and the pop art sensibilities of a Warhol piece — with a liberal dose of Shakespeare thrown in for good measure. River Phoenix is cast as Mike Waters, a Portland street hustler who deals with stressful situations by tumbling into a narcoleptic state. His only true friend is Scott Favor (Keanu Reeves), who abandoned his privileged life as the son of Portland’s mayor to hang out on the streets with other boy toys. Deeply in love with Scott, Mike counts on his pal to help him find his mother, embarking on a journey that will take them to Idaho and then Italy. Van Sant packs his movie with all manner of unusual narrative devices and offbeat visual flourishes, and, perhaps not surprisingly, the end result is a mishmash of things that work (the animated gay porn magazine covers) and things that don’t (the Henry IV homage that dominates the middle of the movie). Yet for all of Van Sant’s idiosyncrasies, the picture’s most memorable component is the aching performance by Phoenix, who would suffer a drug-induced death almost exactly two years after this movie’s debut.

Movie: ★★★

THE WEDDING BANQUET (1993). Perhaps borrowing as much from TV’s Three’s Company as from ‘40s screwball comedies, this early effort from Ang Lee, the second of three features he made in his native Taiwan (between 1991’s solid Pushing Hands, reviewed here, and 1994’s excellent Eat Drink Man Woman), is a delightful confection that’s ultimate as poignant as it is humorous. A gay Manhattan landlord (Winston Chao), enjoying a stable relationship with his lover (Mitchell Lichtenstein), is pressured by his unwitting folks (Sihung Lung and Ah-Leh Gua) back in Taiwan to get married and give them a grandchild. For various reasons, he agrees to get married — albeit in name only — to one of his tenants (May Chin), but complications ensue when his parents elect to come to the U.S. for the wedding. An Academy Award nominee for Best Foreign Language Film, The Wedding Banquet is consistently inventive and perceptive, taking a serious look at familial relations and generational gaps even as it mines the humor inherent in its various characters’ idiosyncrasies. All of the performances are refreshingly unaffected, although I especially liked Lung’s work as the august father. An American remake starring Bowen Yang and Lily Gladstone debuted earlier this year; look for a review in this column within the next couple of weeks.

Movie: ★★★½

WE WERE HERE (2011). This powerful documentary focuses on San Francisco in the early 1980s, when a mysterious new disease began decimating that city’s gay population. Some called it “the gay cancer”; others called it “the gay plague”; eventually, everyone was calling it AIDS. Directors David Weissman and Bill Weber structure their film around modern-day interviews with five individuals who witnessed the carnage firsthand: Paul Boneberg, Guy Clark, Eileen Glutzer, Daniel Goldstein, and Ed Wolf. These San Franciscans relate in grisly detail the horrors that befell their friends and loved ones, from the lightning-quick manner in which death would take people away to the abhorrently indifferent attitude of politicians like Ronald Reagan and Lyndon LaRouche, the latter pushing for a quarantine of all AIDS sufferers. Yet the five also note the triumphs of the time — specifically, the manner in which the entire community came together as one to work as caretakers, sounding boards, activists, errand boys or whatever other job needed filling. We Were Here ultimately serves as a tribute — not only to those who are no longer with us, but also to those who crossed the minefield and emerged as survivors, storytellers, and heroes.

Movie: ★★★½