FILM FRENZY

Sinners (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.)

BRING ME THE HEAD OF ALFREDO GARCIA (1974). A typical burst of nihilism from Sam Peckinpah, Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia is surprisingly the only film on which the maverick writer-director had total creative control, with no studio interference whatsoever. As such, it’s distinguished by some truly original moments but also marred by a ramshackle narrative that leans a bit too heavily on regurgitated themes and stylistic flourishes. Character actor Warren Oates essays a rare leading-man part as Bennie, an ex-pat American living in boozy withdrawal in Mexico. A local bigwig (Emilio Fernandez) offers a million dollars to the person who brings back evidence that Alfredo Garcia, the man who impregnated his daughter, is dead; thanks to Bennie’s lover, a prostitute named Elita (Isela Vega), Bennie knows that Alfredo has been killed in a car accident, but just because he’s already a corpse doesn’t make the job any easier. Out of the expected maelstrom of machismo and misogyny emerges a surprisingly affecting romance between Bennie and Elita — much of the violence, on the other hand, feels rather rote. Gig Young and Robert Webber are aptly menacing as a pair of gay assassins (appearing on the scene three years after Diamonds Are Forever‘s Mr. Kidd and Mr. Wint), while Kris Kristofferson, star of Peckinpah’s 1973 Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid, pops up as a biker who terrorizes Bennie and Elita.

Blu-ray extras include audio commentary by co-scripter Gordon T. Dawson; film historian audio commentary; and an image gallery.

Movie: ★★½

CLUELESS (1995). Writer-director Amy Heckerling’s modern take on Jane Austen’s Emma continues to hold up extremely well over time, with subsequent viewings proving to be as enjoyable as the initial one. Sassy, smart, and highly quotable, the film centers on the life of a pampered Beverly Hills high school student named Cher (Alicia Silverstone) and how her carefully structured life starts getting messy once her mind becomes flooded with romantic aspirations. The cast is packed with then-rising young talents — Paul Rudd, Breckin Meyer, Donald Faison, the late Brittany Murphy — and they all carve out distinct and memorable characterizations. In her star-making performance as the “hymenally challenged” Cher, Silverstone is an absolute delight, although it’s veteran Dan Hedaya who steals the show as her gruff father, a lawyer who informs one of her dates (Justin Walker) that if “anything happens to my daughter, I have a .45 and a shovel; I doubt anybody would miss you.”

Paramount has released Clueless in a new 30th Anniversary 4K + Blu-ray + Digital Code SteelBook edition. Physical goodies include a poster, photo cards, language arts cards, a domed decal, a sticker sheet, and Cher’s report card. Disc extras include a making-of featurette; a “Clue or False” trivia game; pieces on the casting, the costumes, and the slang; a tutorial on the Suck ‘N Blow game seen in the film; and theatrical trailers.

Movie: ★★★½

HIGH SOCIETY (1956). One of the greatest of all vintage comedies, 1940’s four-star The Philadelphia Story (reviewed here) hardly needed a remake but got one anyway. Happily, this isn’t a mechanical, by-the-numbers retelling but rather a musical version sporting its own set of charms. The plot remains the same, as brittle socialite Tracy Lord is set to marry a stuffed shirt while mischievous ex-husband C.K. Dexter Haven and scandal-sheet reporters Mike Connor and Liz Imbrie hang around. Grace Kelly (in her final film appearance) is Tracy (Katharine Hepburn in the original), Bing Crosby is Dexter (Cary Grant), Frank Sinatra is Mike (James Stewart in his Oscar-winning turn), and Celeste Holm is Liz (Ruth Hussey). The stars are all appealing (and I daresay Kelly has never been better) and Cole Porter contributes several tunes, yet the real MVP maneuver is the addition of Louis Armstrong. He’s playing himself, yet he also fills the role of Dexter’s musician buddy as well as the story’s narrator/Greek chorus/ Prospero. Crosby and Sinatra are a charming duo singing “Well, Did You Evah!,” but the showstopper is Crosby and Satchmo performing “Now You Has Jazz.” This earned a pair of Oscar nominations for Best Song (Porter’s “True Love,” performed by Crosby and Kelly) and Best Scoring of a Musical Picture.

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray edition include a piece on Cole Porter’s Hollywood efforts; newsreel footage from the film’s premiere; and the 1956 cartoon Millionaire Droopy.

Movie: ★★★½

HOUSE OF PSYCHOTIC WOMEN RARITIES COLLECTION VOLUME 2 (1959-1994). Author and educator Kier-La Janisse’s acclaimed book House of Psychotic Women: An Autobiographical Topography of Female Neurosis in Horror and Exploitation became the inspiration — indeed, the backbone — for Severin’s 2022 Blu-ray box set House of Psychotic Women Rarities Collection, a four-film offering curated by Janisse herself. Severin and Janisse are back with a second volume, corralling four more movies that examine the psyches of troubled women who just might be peering in the mouth of madness.

The Savage Eye (1959) is a singularly unique experience, basically a docudrama before docudramas really took off. Its fictional story follows Judith (Barbara Baxley) as a divorcee roaming the streets of Los Angeles while trying to figure out her future. The doc aspect comes into play via much of the footage shot by the film’s three cinematographers (one of whom was future two-time Oscar winner Haskell Wexler). These scenes serve as a marvelous time capsule, viewing LA life at the end of the 1950s and capturing such sights as a drag show, a burlesque performance, and an evangelist holding sway at a tent revival. The voice-over by Gary Merrill (Bette Davis’ All About Eve co-star and real-life husband for 10 years) as “The Poet,” i.e. Judith’s inner voice, occasionally borders on the pretentious, but the visuals never fail to engage.

Spain’s The Glass Ceiling (1971) is perhaps my favorite film in the set — no surprise, since I’ve consistently enjoyed other works from director Eloy de la Iglesia (The Cannibal Man, No One Heard the Scream). Carmen Sevilla stars as Martha, a housewife who always gets lonely when her husband Carlos (Fernando Cebrian) is away on business trips. While home alone, she hears noises that lead her to believe that the friendly woman (Patty Shepard) in the upstairs apartment might have murdered her husband. It’s a variation of Rear Window, with Martha playing amateur detective while other interesting characters, among them the building’s helpful landlord (Dean Selmier) and a local farm girl (Emma Cohen), occasionally take center stage. The ending is unsettling in its ambiguity.

The Czech release Morgiana (1972) is a tale of twin sisters (both played by Iva Janžurová), and writer-director Juraj Herz originally wanted to end the picture with one existing only in the mind of the other (as in the later Fight Club) until he was overruled by the producer. That veto was actually for the better, as it raises the stakes of the sibling rivalry that propels this Gothic offering. Morgiana is the name of the cat of twisted sister Viktoria, who, jealous that their late father left the bulk of his estate to sweet sister Klara, tries to kill her via an untraceable and slow-acting poison. Too slow-acting, as Viktoria becomes more unhinged while waiting for her sis to die already. There are touches of dark humor throughout the picture, and the cat fully captures the spotlight in a satisfying finale.

Director Michael Winterbottom (24 Hour Party People, The Trip) made his feature debut with Butterfly Kiss (1994), which finds Amanda Plummer once again playing a looney tune for seemingly the one hundredth (one thousandth? one millionth?) time. She’s Eunice, a deranged drifter who brutally murders pretty much everyone she encounters while traveling North West England’s highways. The one person she deliberately spares is meek, weak Miriam (Saskia Reeves), who, because of the attention, falls for Eunice and follows her around like a puppy dog. Despite Eunice’s early dominance, the two become co-dependent, and Eunice accurately predicts that there’s more chance she’ll turn Miriam bad rather than Miriam turning her good. Scripted by Frank Cottrell Boyce and absurdly tagged in many quarters as a companion to Thelma & Louise (almost as ridiculous as when many called Sigourney Weaver’s Ripley a female Rambo), this is a thoroughly unpleasant slasher film with artistic ambitions that fail to be met — it’s expertly mounted but ultimately registers as little more than another killer-dyke flick filtered through the usual male gaze.

Extras on The Savage Eye include audio commentary by film historian/curator Elizabeth Purchell; Trailers From Hell commentary by Janisse; and the Oscar-winning 1970 documentary short Interviews With My Lai Veterans, from The Savage Eye co-writer/co-director/co-producer Joseph Strick. Extras on The Glass Ceiling include an introduction by Janisse; audio commentary by Shelagh Rowan-Legg, author of a forthcoming monograph on de la Iglesia, and Faculty of Horror’s Alexandra West; and alternate scenes from the TV version. Extras on Morgiana include an introduction by Janisse; audio commentary by Stranger With My Face Festival Director Briony Kidd and Cerise Howard, co-founder Of the Czech and Slovak Film Festival of Australia; and 1970’s Nightmares, Morgiana director Juraj Herz’s vampire rock musical that was produced for Czech television. Extras on Butterfly Kiss include an introduction by Janisse; an introduction by Cottrell-Boyce; and interviews with Winterbottom, Plummer, and Reeves.

The Savage Eye: ★★★

The Glass Ceiling: ★★★

Morgiana: ★★★

Butterfly Kiss: ★★

LOONEY TUNES PLATINUM COLLECTION: VOLUME ONE AND VOLUME TWO (1936-1966). Housing 50 cartoons apiece, the first two volumes in the Platinum line have been out of print for over a decade (and fetching sky-high prices online), which makes these Blu-ray reissues a godsend. Volume One is particularly packed, as it features many of the most beloved cartoons of all time, including some that were picked for inclusion in the acclaimed book The 50 Greatest Cartoons: As Selected by 1,000 Animation Professionals: 1957’s What Opera, Doc? (#1), 1953’s Duck Amuck (#2), the same year’s Duck Dodgers in the 24½ Century (#4), 1955’s One Froggy Evening (#5), and more. Also included are a trio of Oscar winners: 1947’s Tweetie Pie, 1949’s For Scent-imental Reasons, and 1955’s Speedy Gonzales. Volume Two isn’t exactly a slacker, though, as it offers the first Bugs Bunny cartoon, 1940’s Oscar-nominated A Wild Hare, as well as 1938’s delightful Porky in Wackyland (#8 on that aforementioned list) and 1940’s live-action/animation hybrid You Ought to Be in Pictures, starring Porky and Daffy Duck.

Blu-ray extras? Where to begin? Between the two sets, Looney aficionados can enjoy audio commentaries by toon creators and experts on over 70 of the 100 cartoons; documentaries and featurettes on such toon titans as Chuck Jones, Tex Avery, Friz Freleng, and Bob Clampett; several behind-the-scenes pieces; music-only tracks on two dozen offerings; an amusing short looking at the various celebrities spoofed in select cartoons (including Humphrey Bogart and Abbott and Costello); and — talk about generous! — an additional 30 cartoons on top of the featured one hundred.

Both collections: ★★★★

SCREAMBOAT (2025). I must admit, I’ve been kinda fascinated by this sudden desire of low-budget filmmakers to take childhood favorites and use them as springboards for gory, tongue-in-bloody-cheek horror movies … but not fascinated enough that I’m going to actually watch all of them. In fact, if Screamboat is indicative of the quality of the films in this newly minted genre (with some films being plugged as part of the Twisted Childhood Universe, or TCU), I’m OK never seeing another one. In the same (spurting) vein as Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey, Peter Pan’s Neverland Nightmare, The Mean One, Popeye the Slayer Man, and The Banana Splits Movie — and with Bambi: The Reckoning, Pinocchio: Unstrung, and many more on the way — this takes a beloved kiddie icon and runs him through the slasher-flick paces. Screamboat is based not on the Mickey Mouse franchise (since Disney would sue aplenty) but solely on Mickey’s first appearance in 1928’s Steamboat Willie, since that specific cartoon entered the public domain on January 1, 2024 (and, in the spirit of American capitalism and American cynicism, Screamboat was announced on January 2, 2024). The storyline finds a monstrous little mouse (David Howard Thornton in a ratty costume) being freed from the bowels of an NYC ferry and proceeding to kill everyone aboard in the most gruesome ways imaginable. It’s presented as a comedy, but it’s utterly witless, with the Disney shout-outs (characters saying things like “Let it go” and “It’s a small world after all”) particularly dumb.

There are no Blu-ray extras.

Movie: ★

SINNERS (2025). The fifth feature from writer-director Ryan Coogler is the first that’s a complete original — Fruitvale Station was based on a true story while the Creed and Black Panther movies sprang from existing properties — and it in turn marks its creator as a complete original himself. Like Jordan Peele with his trio of Get Out, Us, and Nope, Coogler has made a soulful and soul-stirring saga that blankets the Black experience with a supernatural patina. Yet as is occasionally the case when a filmmaker is patient with the expository material rather than just rushing through it, Sinners is so strong in its initial going as simply a period drama that most viewers would have welcomed whatever direction Coogler had opted to take his picture. Set in the Mississippi Delta in 1932, this finds twin brothers Smoke and Stack Moore, aka The Smokestack Twins (both played by Michael B. Jordan), returning from Chicago with more than enough money to open their own juke joint. It’s a raucous celebration for the Black community, but evil soon comes knocking — in the form of the white man, yes, but more importantly, in the form of something truly demonic. There’s so much thematic material to unpack here, but the film’s primary strength is in its exploration of music as a healer, as a seducer, as a uniter, and as a generational bridge (the last reflected in a superb sequence). Loki’s Wunmi Mosaku is excellent as a local woman experienced in Hoodoo practices, while Miles Caton makes an impressive film debut as Sammie, the aspiring guitarist who’s the primary focus of the horrific happenings. The cherry on top is the late-inning appearance by one of the all-time great blues artists (and he’s still jamming at the age of 88).

Blu-ray extras include a making-of featurette; deleted scenes; a piece on the film’s music; and a look at the visual effects.

Movie: ★★★½

SOMEWHERE (2010). For my money, Sofia Coppola’s 2003 Lost in Translation was such an unblinking masterpiece — one of the two or three best films of its entire decade — that it’s a shock to witness the near-worthlessness of Somewhere. In a general sense, both films are similar, focusing on a Hollywood superstar who combats his loneliness by spending time with a younger woman. But whereas Lost in Translation managed to be both personal and universal at the same time, Somewhere feels like the desperate last act of a filmmaker who was at a loss for her next project and decided to simply film some navel-gazing ruminations that will mean little to anyone aside from herself. A somnambular Stephen Dorff is cast as Johnny Marco, an A-list actor who passes endless amounts of (screen) time driving his Ferrari in circles, watching strippers pole-dance in his hotel room, and fielding idiotic questions from journalists on a film junket. One day, his 11-year-old daughter (Elle Fanning) from his failed marriage turns up, and he attempts to get to know her; the pair end up spending endless amounts of (screen) time skating, playing Guitar Hero, and knocking back over a dozen Jagerbombs apiece. Oh, wait, scratch that last one — that’s what I had to do to make it through this endurance test passing itself off as a motion picture. Frankly, I’ve seen more “motion” in a taxidermy display.

There are no DVD extras.

Movie: ★½

FROM SCREEN TO STREAM

CAT’S EYE (1985). With an opening sequence that features both a blood-covered St. Bernard and a car sporting a “Christine” bumper sticker, it’s immediately clear that Cat’s Eye is going to lean heavily on self-referential shout-outs as it pertains to the oeuvre of Stephen King. That’s hardly a surprise considering the screenplay was penned by King himself, but rather than serving as distractions, these bits (plus subsequent nods to The Dead Zone and Pet Sematary) fit the overall mix of horror and humor. A trio of tales all connected by a cat on a mission, this begins with a sadistic yet admittedly clever vignette about a businessman (James Woods) whose desire to break his smoking habit leads him to a company (Quitters, Inc.) with highly unorthodox methods. The second story, equally engaging, finds a wealthy gambler (Kenneth McMillan) forcing his wife’s lover (Robert Hays) to take a wager involving a very narrow high-rise ledge. The concluding segment is the most dependent on visual effects, as the heroic feline tries to protect a little girl (Drew Barrymore) from an evil troll that wants to steal her breath. In the annals of horror cinema, this is extremely slight material, but compared to the many awful King flicks out there (The Mangler, Graveyard Shift, Maximum Overdrive, etc.), it looks almost as accomplished as Carrie and The Shining.

Movie: ★★★

OLD DRACULA (1974). In the hopes of piggybacking on the massive success of Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein, the creators of Vampira quickly renamed their movie Old Dracula and even promoted it with the tagline, “If You Liked Young Frankenstein, You’ll Love Old Dracula.” Let’s just say it was a pathetic ploy that fooled no one. David Niven, looking extremely embarrassed under the circumstances, plays the title figure, who’s searching for the right blood that will resurrect his comatose wife, Countess Vampira (she got food poisoning from eating a spoiled peasant). A bevy of Playboy bunnies shows up at his Transylvania estate, and while the blood he ends up using revives his wife, it also turns her into a Black woman (Teresa Graves) since there was one Black Playmate in the mix. So with Vampira and his manservant Maltravers (Peter Bayliss) in tow, Dracula heads to London in an effort to track down the ladies and change his wife back to white. The film’s racial content might be offensive to some were it not so moronically presented — for instance, after seeing a Jim Brown flick, the formerly regal Countess suddenly starts referring to Dracula as a “jive turkey” and a “groovy old dude.” Old veteran Bayliss, as the faithful servant, outshines the amateurish supporting cast even if his routine is strictly old-school shtick.

Movie: ★½

THE PURPLE PLAIN (1954). A British production that was far more popular in its homeland than in the U.S. — it was a box office hit in the U.K. and earned four BAFTA nominations, including ones for Best British Film (beaten by Hobson’s Choice) and Best Film From Any Source (bested by The Wages of Fear) — it contains a typically excellent performance by Gregory Peck, the sort that demonstrates why he’s been my favorite actor since I was a young boy lo those many decades ago. Peck stars as Bill Forrester, a WWII squadron leader who’s lost the will to live ever since his wife was killed during the London Blitz on their wedding night. Forrester’s irrational behavior and death-defying acts have left everyone around him wary, but a kindly doctor (Bernard Lee, eight years before assuming the role of M in the James Bond franchise) attempts to jump-start his humanity by introducing him to a local Burmese beauty (Win Min Than). It works, so when Forrester and two colleagues, the injured Carrington (Lyndon Brook) and the whiny Blore (Maurice Denham), find themselves stranded behind enemy lines, it’s Forrester who leads the charge in attempting to survive the punishing heat and rugged terrain and make it out alive. Despite its wartime setting, this isn’t an action yarn as much as it’s an astute character study of a damaged individual — as such, it makes an interesting companion piece to Peck’s WWII classic Twelve O’Clock High (reviewed here).

Movie: ★★★

THIEVES’ HIGHWAY (1949) / NIGHT AND THE CITY (1950). The Hollywood blacklist of the 1950s ruined many a career, but director Jules Dassin was one of the lucky ones: Forced to flee the U.S. and set up residence in France, he went on to become the internationally renowned director of such hits as Rififi and Never On Sunday. But before this unexpected swerve in his career, he had shot four consecutive film noir offerings that still retain their power today: 1947’s Brute Force, 1948’s The Naked City (both reviewed ccc), and this potent pair.

Thieves’ Highway is the least known of the four Dassin noirs, but don’t let that keep you away: Like the Bogart flick They Drive By Night (and based on another novel by the same author, A.I. Bezzerides), it takes the noir template on the road, with Richard Conte as a WWII vet passing himself off as a trucker in order to nail the sleazy produce supplier (Lee J. Cobb) responsible for maiming his father. Valentina Cortese, exuding sexuality from every pore, plays the hard-luck girl caught in the power struggle between the two men, and her scenes with Conte — notably one in which she uses her fingernails to play tic-tac-toe on his bare chest — proudly stand alongside any comparable noir moment featuring a tough guy and a potential femme fatale.

Night and the City is even better, with Richard Widmark as a petty American hustler hoping to hit it big in London. His girlfriend (Gene Tierney) urges him to give up the con and earn a decent living, but he ignores her advice and concentrates his shady efforts on becoming the biggest wrestling promoter in London — a career path that places him in dangerous proximity to the crime boss (Herbert Lom) who currently holds that position. Few filled the position of sweaty anti-hero better than Widmark, and he’s in notable form here, whether cheerfully fleecing American big-spenders or fearfully fleeing from underworld thugs. This was needlessly remade in 1992, with Robert De Niro and Jessica Lange no match for Widmark and Tierney.

Thieves’ Highway: ★★★½

Night and the City: ★★★½

TRUE CONFESSIONS (1981). This was largely dismissed upon its original release, yet it remains an underrated picture, and with Robert De Niro (before his late-career whoring) and Robert Duvall in the central roles, even viewers not bowled over by its script dynamics will appreciate it as an actor’s showcase. Loosely based on the same unsolved murder that inspired Brian De Palma’s The Black Dahlia, this casts the two Bobs as brothers in 1940 Los Angeles. Duvall stars as Tom Spellacy, a detective investigating the brutal slaying of a starlet, while De Niro plays Des, a monsignor whose business savvy and ambitious nature have made him a rising star in the Catholic church. Both have ties to sleazy developer Jack Amsterdam (Charles Durning), and when it turns out that Amsterdam knew the victim, it threatens to make matters even more sticky for a religious institution already swimming in corruption. The direction by Ulu Grosbard is understated, the script by John Gregory Dunne and Joan Didion is intelligent, and the production design is immaculate. With a little more focus, this had the potential to be a great film; as it stands, it’s still an absorbing study of vice operating on all cylinders.

Movie: ★★★

THE 39 STEPS (1935). With the possible exception of The Lady Vanishes (reviewed here), The 39 Steps is the best of the roughly two dozen films Alfred Hitchcock made in his native England before heading to America for 1940’s Rebecca. An innocent man wrongly accused of murder; dastardly spy rings; trains serving as significant supporting players; masterful quick-cut editing that imaginatively takes us from one scene to the next; playful banter between two physically attractive leads — all the ingredients that The Master would use repeatedly in his stateside movies can be found here. Robert Donat plays Richard Hannay, an ordinary joe who gets mixed up with a secret agent (Lucie Mannheim); after she’s murdered in his apartment, he finds himself on the run from both the authorities and foreign spies, along the way getting attached to a woman (Madeleine Carroll) who doesn’t believe his far-fetched tale. The 39 Steps is sexy, exciting, and wholly unpredictable, with an ending that nicely loops back to the start. It’s also unexpectedly moving, thanks largely to Peggy Ashcroft’s supporting turn as a lonely woman married to a brutish farmer (John Laurie). (Fifty years later, Ashcroft would win the Best Supporting Actress Oscar for David Lean’s 1984 drama A Passage to India.)

Movie: ★★★★