FILM FRENZY

Benicio del Toro in The Phoenician Scheme (Photo: Focus & Universal)

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.)

BEAUTIFUL CREATURES (2013). Emma Thompson delivers the worst performance of her career, Jeremy Irons practically has the producers sign his paycheck even as the cameras are rolling on him, and the exaggerated accents by a significant chunk of the cast are no more authentically Southern than the Great Wall of China. Those are just some of the problems in writer-director Richard LaGravenese’s dreary adaptation of a Young Adult novel penned by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl. Set in a fictional South Carolina town — the type where Civil War reenactments are more popular than Christmas, books like To Kill a Mockingbird are banned, and Burt Reynolds bombs like Stoker Ace and Cannonball Run II play annually in the town’s solitary movie theater (actually, just assuming on that last one) — the story focuses on rebel without a clue Ethan Wate (Alden Ehrenreich) and the strange situations he encounters when Lena Duchannes (Alice Englert, Jane Campion’s daughter) turns up as a new student at his high school. Ethan works hard to befriend the girl, who is otherwise ostracized by local goobers — like the Bible-thumping Mrs. Lincoln (Thompson) — who already fear her eccentric uncle (Irons). Ethan eventually learns that Lena comes from a family of Casters (the preferred word for witches) and, like Luke Skywalker before her, she will end up either succumbing to the dark side or crusading for goodness by taking up arms against an evil parent. Sparkly, Twilight-time vampires suddenly look very appealing when compared to the Gothic witches on display in this dull and insipid film.

Blu-ray extras include a making-of piece and deleted scenes.

Movie: ★½

BILLY MADISON (1995). My favorite critical blurb for any Adam Sandler movie made at any point over the past 30-odd years — favorite because A) it’s hilarious and B) it’s true — comes courtesy of Slant’s review for 2011’s Jack and Jill. As Jaime N. Christley wrote, “Adam Sandler uses an entire film to let his loyal fans know that he thinks they’re all a bunch of stupid assholes.” I would argue that Sandler had already used some of his movies to promote that sentiment — I’m thinking specifically of Big Daddy, Little Nicky, and Grown Ups. I expect others would go even further back and include his entire filmography, but his earliest efforts feel more guileless in their intentions. Billy Madison is noteworthy in that it was Sandler’s first film as the top-billed star (no one counts 1989’s Going Overboard since that only became known after he made it big). Critically reviled but making a mild splash at the box office, the picture revealed the dichotomy that would define his standing as a screen presence: He’s clearly talented and can be funny when relying more on dialogue and situations, but he’s also an irritant when he leans on incessant mugging and doofus line readings. This finds him cast as a moron who, in order to take over the lucrative family business, must go back to school and pass grades 1-12 in the span of 24 weeks. There are several bright spots (the bit with Steve Buscemi is a highlight), but too many gags are set up and then abandoned, and Sandler spends too much time merely yelling at people in the belief that this alone deserves peals of laughter.

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray edition include audio commentary by director Tamra Davis; deleted scenes; and outtakes.

Movie: ★★

THE FRIEND (2025). This adaptation of Sigrid Nunez’s 2018 novel stars Naomi Watts as Iris, a New York writer understandably shaken when her best friend, a difficult but brilliant professor named Walter (Bill Murray), commits suicide. She’s shocked to learn that Walter has decided to leave Apollo, his Great Dane, not with any of his three wives (exes played by Carla Gugino and Constance Wu, current one portrayed by Noma Dumezweni) nor his adult daughter (Sarah Pidgeon) but with Iris. She has a difficult time handling the mournful Apollo, not least because her apartment building forbids pets of any sort. But even as she decides what to do with this imposing beast, she finds herself frequently thinking about Walter and consequently begins to form a bond with the dog. Nothing in The Friend is handled in a facile manner, resulting in a mature drama that largely stays away from audience manipulation. It’s a movie that trusts viewers to digest its musings on prickly relationships and human frailties without undue influence, and it’s particularly strong in the scenes in which Iris interacts with the three very dissimilar wives. And mercifully, the dog is presented as an ordinary dog — no dorky double-takes or Scooby-esque Ruh Rohs here.

There are no Blu-ray extras.

Movie: ★★★

LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS (1986). Little Shop of Horrors began as a 1960 Roger Corman cheapie (and subsequent cult classic) before being reinvented as an off-Broadway musical in 1982 by songwriters Alan Menken and Howard Ashman, the team that would soon be helping lead the Disney animation renaissance with their Oscar-winning work on The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast. This 1986 movie is an adaptation of the stage hit, with ex-Muppet man Frank Oz taking the director’s chair for this saga about lonely schnook Seymour Krelborn (Rick Moranis) and the dire consequences that arise after he finds a plant that thrives on human blood. The only off-Broadway cast member making the trip to the screen is Ellen Greene, and it’s easy to see why: As the delicate Audrey, she shows off her formidable singing ability while also providing the piece with its warm center. Steve Martin is a riot as the sadistic dentist Orin Scrivello, and there are cameo appearances by John Candy, James Belushi, Christopher Guest, and, in the role that Jack Nicholson made famous in the 1960 original, Bill Murray as a dental patient who thrives on pain. As for the voice of the killer plant, it’s provided by Levi Stubbs of The Four Tops. This earned two Oscar nominations, for Best Visual Effects (the animatronic work is excellent) and Best Original Song (“Mean Green Mother from Outer Space”).

The Blu-ray contains both the theatrical version and a Director’s Cut that restores the original, prerelease ending (which is dreadful). Extras include audio commentary by Oz on the Director’s Cut; a making-of featurette; deleted scenes; and outtakes.

Movie: ★★★

THE LITTLE THINGS (2021). The Little Things was positioned as a prime Oscar contender once the Academy announced that it was allowing early 2021 films to be eligible for the 2020 contest in the COVID era. Yet aside from Jared Leto curiously picking up Golden Globe and Screen Actors Guild nominations (he’s good in the movie, but not that good), this police procedural was completely MIA during the awards sprint. That’s hardly surprising: Despite the participation of three Oscar winners, it offers little that’s fresh or exciting. For the umpteenth time in Hollywood history, here’s a movie that pairs a veteran cop (Denzel Washington) with a hot-shot up-and-comer (Rami Malek), in this case trying to determine whether a creepy pervert (Leto, naturally) is the serial killer slaughtering women throughout Los Angeles. As expected, Washington comes off best, but his character is the one who’s saddled with the tired plot device of a cop haunted by a past mistake (plus, he talks to ghosts, almost always a bad creative decision in dramas such as this). As for Malek, he’s crucially miscast in a role that required someone with more verve. The existential crisis unfolding during the final chapters is reminiscent of the climax of 1995’s Seven, only not as ably handled — without venturing into spoiler territory, let’s just say that not only is it statically staged, but what likely happens after the movie ends strips the concluding moments of its cathartic charge.

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray edition consist of a behind-the-scenes featurette; a piece on Washington’s cop flicks; and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★

THE PHOENICIAN SCHEME (2025). One wouldn’t tag Wes Anderson movies as faith-based family flicks, yet that description applies — albeit not in the manner usually meant by such a designation. The majority of his films center on the strengths and weaknesses of the family unit, whether family is defined by blood (e.g. The Royal Tenenbaums, Fantastic Mr. Fox) or simply by close camaraderie and companionship (e.g. The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou, The Grand Budapest Hotel). As for the matter of faith, it takes shape in various forms, and for all of the dark humor and fatalistic situations presented in his works, there’s always a belief — in God, in the universe, or in the individual — that matters will work out and soulful satisfaction will be achieved. Like all of his output, The Phoenician Scheme manages to offer more of the same while paradoxically providing sights we’ve never witnessed before. The quirky characters, existential angst, deadpan delivery of delicious dialogue, and eye-popping mise-en-scenes are very much present in this yarn about Anatole “Zsa-zsa” Korda (Benicio del Toro), a ruthless business tycoon who embarks on a shady venture even as he tries to convince his estranged daughter Liesl (Mia Threapleton), a no-nonsense nun, to take over the family business. Joining Korda and Liesl in their globe-hopping endeavors is Korda’s oddball assistant Bjørn (Michael Cera), and everything seems to be building toward a confrontation with Kubar’s reptilian half-brother Nubar (Benedict Cumberbatch). Further embellished with the usual roster of all-stars in small roles (Bill Murray as God!), The Phoenician Scheme isn’t prime Wes, but it still registers as quirk with a kick.

Blu-ray extras consist of four behind-the-scenes featurettes.

Movie: ★★★

SMALL SOLDIERS (1998). It’s easy to see director Joe Dante’s attraction to this project, since it basically mimics his major 1984 hit Gremlins in its story structure of antagonistic, diminutive critters and the young humans who combat them. After a major corporation takes over a small toy company, its CEO (Denis Leary) orders two designers (Jay Mohr and David Cross) to create two sets of highly advanced action figures: the Gorgonites, alien beings who only want to live in peace, and the Commando Elite, aggressive soldiers whose only objective is to destroy the Gorgonites. Once the toys are programmed with top-of-the-line microchips reserved for actual military operations, the Commandos, led by Major Chip Hazard (voiced by Tommy Lee Jones), literally leap off the shelves and engage in battle with not only the Gorgonites but with the kids (Kirsten Dunst and Gregory Smith) who are sheltering them. The special effects — some Stan Winston ingenuity mixed with lots of CGI — are the selling point, and even they’re not always easy on the eyes. It’s amusing that most of the bad Commandos are voiced by actors from The Dirty Dozen (among them Jim Brown and Ernest Borgnine) and most of the Gorgonites are voiced by the This Is Spinal Tap trio of Christopher Guest, Michael McKean, and Harry Shearer, but that’s about it when it comes to wit in this noisy endeavor that gets bogged down in lame quips and ends with an endless battle.

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray + Digital Code edition consist of a behind-the-scenes featurette; bloopers; and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★

SPLENDOR IN THE GRASS (1961). Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright William Inge (Picnic) turned to his memories of growing up in Kansas in the 1920s to craft this story of young love, and he was ably supported by the sensitive direction of Elia Kazan and the dazzling performance by Natalie Wood. Wood delivers a career-best turn as Deanie Loomis, a high school student madly in love with rich kid Bud Stamper (Warren Beatty in his film debut). Bud loves her just as passionately, but constant sermons from his blustery father (Pat Hingle) and her nagging mother (Audrey Christie) convince them to remain celibate — this sexual frustration ends up consuming them, leading Bud to break off their relationship and Deanie to have a nervous breakdown and attempt suicide. The amorous feelings and carnal longings are played at such a fever pitch that many viewers will find them exaggerated while others will recognize in them their own oversized emotions — both factions, however, are likely to be affected by Deanie’s descent into madness and by the bittersweet ending (I wonder if this finale inspired Jacques Demy as he wrote The Umbrellas of Cherbourg?). Inge earned the Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay, while Wood nabbed a Best Actress nomination for her formidable turn (she also starred in that year’s Best Picture Oscar winner and highest grossing film, West Side Story).

Blu-ray extras consist of the 1995 documentary Elia Kazan: A Director’s Journey and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★★

TERMINUS (1987). It’s coincidental that I’ll be reviewing the Knight Rider box set in the next couple of weeks, as that series is about a talking, AI-powered car and Terminus is about a talking, AI-powered truck. I’ll take KITT the car, which only blinks a red light whenever it speaks — Monster the truck, on the other hand, chats through a human mouth attached to the dashboard, disgusting lips that look like one of Leatherface’s fleshy masks in The Texas Chain Saw Massacre and its myriad follow-ups. Of course, much could be forgiven if Monster had anything interesting to say, but dialogue isn’t one of the strong suits of the interminable Terminus — neither are the characters, the plotting, the staging, the effects, probably even the catering. One of the worst of the countless Mad Max rip-offs that choked the eighties, this borderline incoherent film finds poor Karen Allen a looong way from that lost ark, here playing a truck driver in the post-apocalyptic world of 2037. She’s taking part in some sort of cross-country rally that places her in dangerous terrain — exit Karen Allen, enter rock superstar Johnny Hallyday (often dubbed “the French Elvis”) as the new driver. There’s also a little boy (Gabriel Damon) controlling everything, some prepubescent princess (Julie Glenn) banished from The Neverending Story, and Jürgen Prochnow sleepwalking through three roles.

The new Blu-ray edition of Terminus contains both the 83-minute U.S. version and the 115-minute Director’s Cut in the film’s original French (I valiantly tried to watch both cuts but failed). Extras include a making-of piece and an interview with Prochnow.

Movie: ★

FROM SCREEN TO STREAM

BILLY TWO HATS (1973). After enjoying a 21-year run as a top box office star, Gregory Peck endured a decade-long downturn, appearing in seven consecutive flops in the years sandwiched between 1966’s Arabesque and 1976’s The Omen. Billy Two Hats was the last of the septet, and, like his other duds from this era, it’s by no means awful, just routine and forgettable (although I admittedly have a soft spot for the 1969 Western Mackenna’s Gold, butchered mess though it may be). Forget the Spaghetti Western: Billy Two Hats has often been called the Matzo Western, considering it was filmed entirely in Israel. Perhaps in preparation for his wild Nazi madman in 1978’s The Boys from Brazil, Peck exuberantly tries out a different type of accent here, playing bushy-bearded Scottish outlaw Arch Deans. Displaying fierce loyalty to his half-Indian sidekick Billy Two Hats (Desi Arnaz Jr., looking lost so far away from the Desilu studio), Arch rescues him from a relentless sheriff (Jack Warden), only to become injured in the process. Ensuing events lead them to a small ranch house, where a battered mail-order bride (Sian Barbara Allen) finds herself attracted to Billy’s gentleness. With In the Heat of the Night director Norman Jewison serving as a producer, it’s no surprise that the movie attempts to deal with matters of racism (several of the characters look down on Billy for being a “breed”), but good intentions aren’t enough to distinguish this ordinary oater.

Movie: ★★

CAT ON A HOT TIN ROOF (1958). Although Tennessee Williams was no stranger to writing for the screen — the noted playwright earned Oscar nominations for penning the scripts for both A Streetcar Named Desire and Baby Doll — director Richard Brooks nevertheless took it upon himself to whip up (with James Poe) the screenplay for this adaptation of Williams’ Pulitzer Prize-winning play. Williams was understandably upset with the changes from his original text, but Brooks nevertheless knocks it out of the park: While the stage show’s homosexual content was removed since it never would have gotten past the censorious Hays Code prudes, there are still enough pointed allusions in this celluloid version to allow viewers to fill in the blanks themselves. Elizabeth Taylor and Paul Newman, here both gorgeous beyond measure, strike sparks as the sexually unfulfilled Maggie and her tortured husband Brick, while Burl Ives is sensational as the family patriarch Big Daddy, debating with Brick about the “mendacity” that surrounds all the characters. A sizable box office hit, this earned six major Oscar nominations: Best Picture, Actor, Actress, Director, Adapted Screenplay, and Color Cinematography. For his part, Ives was nominated for (and won) Best Supporting Actor for his turn in another 1958 hit, The Big Country. Another version appeared as a made-for-TV movie in 1984, this one starring Jessica Lange as Maggie, Tommy Lee Jones as Brick, and Rip Torn as Big Daddy.

Movie: ★★★½

FREAKY FRIDAY (2003). With the sequel Freakier Friday newly arrived in theaters, here’s a peek back at its predecessor. At the time a pleasant out-of-left-field surprise, this remake of Disney’s 1977 hit (with Barbara Harris and Jodie Foster) is a treat for both kids and adults, updating the basic premise (first seen in Mary Rodgers’ book of the same name) while avoiding the common pitfall of tailoring the material to only appeal to the youngest (or, in the case of the grownups, dimmest) members of the audience. Here’s a family film with genuine emotional pull, as workaholic psychiatrist Tess Coleman (Jamie Lee Curtis) and her alienated 15-year-old daughter Anna (Lindsay Lohan) are constantly at odds, bickering incessantly and repeatedly failing to see the other’s point of view. But a pinch of Asian mysticism places them in each other’s body, thereby forcing Anna to contend with her mom’s impending wedding and a TV appearance to plug her new book and Tess to cope with her daughter’s burgeoning relationship with a cute schoolmate (Chad Michael Murray) and an important audition for her garage band. Curtis is in top form here, yet she’s matched all the way by Lohan — their scenes together are especially strong, full of sharp comic give-and-take and capped by the sparkling dialogue by scripters Heather Hach and Leslie Dixon (“I’m old!” wails Anna in her mom’s body. “I look like the Crypt Keeper!”). A buoyant soundtrack only adds to the enjoyment.

Movie: ★★★

HOODLUM (1997). This impressively mounted if overly familiar gangster tale stars Laurence Fishburne as Ellsworth “Bumpy” Johnson, who rose to prominence as the head of the local numbers racket in the Harlem of the 1930s. He finds his turf constantly being invaded by hotheaded mobster Dutch Schultz (Tim Roth), and he debates whether to take care of the problem by forming a risky alliance with suave crime lord Lucky Luciano (Andy Garcia). Strong performances propel this overlong period drama, not only by the three marquee names but also from Chi McBride as Bumpy’s easygoing cousin and Clarence Williams III as Schultz’s morally conflicted gunman (look also for Cicely Tyson, Vanessa Williams, and Queen Latifah in key supporting roles). Like most Hollywood products, Hoodlum plays loose with the historical record — for starters, district attorney Thomas E. Dewey was largely revered as an honest man who sought to destroy organized crime (his nickname was even “Gangbuster”), but because he’s played here by William Atherton (jerks in Die Hard and Ghostbusters, among others), you can bet he’ll be painted as utterly corrupt. Yet such dramatic license is a given; more detrimental to the film’s success is that it’s awfully familiar stuff, offering little that’s new to the tattered gangster genre. For a more interesting crime flick also set in Harlem and also directed by Bill Duke, try to track down 1991’s A Rage in Harlem, with Forest Whitaker and Danny Glover.

Movie: ★★½

MY FELLOW AMERICANS (1996). Two former U.S. Presidents who can’t stand each other must eventually work side by side to save their own skins once they get entangled in a dirty deal involving the current Prez. That’s about all the plot needed for this breezy comedy that triggers plenty of silly grins but rarely anything more hearty. Still, this is the sort of wafer-thin material that survives on the charisma of its stars, and in Jack Lemmon and James Garner, it has two of the best. As former Republican President Russell Kramer, Lemmon gets to be the grumpier old man of the pair, criticizing his opponent’s womanizing ways and moping that he’s been all but forgotten by the nation. Garner, as former Democratic President Matthew Douglas, plays the easygoing liberal, expressing his support for the gay rights movement (the Pride march was filmed in Asheville, as were select other scenes) and talking fondly about his presidential penis, nicknamed “Blinky.” The humor is clearly of the lowbrow variety, but Lemmon and Garner handle their lines with the conviction of Royal Shakespeare Company members tackling Macbeth. Lauren Bacall is wasted as Lemmon’s wife, and I wish Dan Aykroyd, playing corrupt Republican President William Haney, had based his portrayal on his SNL/Nixon impersonation rather than just coasting. But John Heard has some funny moments as a Vice President seemingly so dumb, he probably couldn’t spell “potato” any more accurately than Dan Quayle.

Movie: ★★½

NIGHT AND FOG (1955). Alain Resnais’ Night and Fog (Nuit et brouillard) runs barely over 30 minutes, yet it manages to pack a lifetime of horrors into its half-hour length. Considered to be the first significant documentary about the Nazi concentration camps — the film was commissioned as a memorial on the 10th anniversary of the end of World War II and the liberation of the camps — it finds Resnais employing archival footage as well as narration penned by poet and camp survivor Jean Cayrol to create a masterwork of shocking power. The color footage used in the film is primarily of Auschwitz in 1955, coming off as a ghost town of ghastliness; the older, black-and-white scenes are the ones inspiring anger and revulsion, showing in rapid succession the rise of the Third Reich, the building of the camps, and the atrocities committed therein. The shot of the products cheerfully sent by manufacturers to be used for heinous medical experiments on the Jewish inmates reveals that Bayer — yes, the aspirin company — was among the Nazi regime’s ardent supporters (further Internet digging shows that the company didn’t even bother to apologize for its actions until 1995!). The film’s other shocks are more visceral, with uncompromising images of skeletal corpses, decapitated heads, and more — even hard-hitting fictional films about the Holocaust look comparatively benign when compared to the sights on view here. This is essential viewing for both students of film and students of history.

Movie: ★★★★