FILM FRENZY

Tom Hiddleston in The Life of Chuck (Photo: NEON)

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.)

THE AIRPORT COLLECTION (1970-1979). The four films in this decade-spanning disaster series have just been made available on 4K Ultra HD. These 4K + Blu-ray editions are available individually — for those who prefer all four flicks boxed together, a complete set will be released October 28.

The story goes that when someone informed Burt Lancaster that Airport (1970) had scored a barrel of Oscar nominations, he retorted, “I don’t know why. It’s the biggest piece of junk ever made.” Considering that Lancaster was the film’s top-billed star, such candor is refreshing, but truthfully, the movie is better than his comment suggests — yes, it may be junk, but to many it’s irresistible junk, like cotton candy, chicken nuggets, and Gilligan’s Island reruns. Ranking second only to Love Story (for my money, a worse film than Airport) as the biggest moneymaker of its calendar year, this adaptation of Arthur Hailey’s gargantuan bestseller ended up serving as the opening salvo in the decade-long cycle of disaster flicks. An all-star cast mills about in this melodrama in which a blizzard paralyzes a major airport while a plane is subjected to the whims of an unstable bomber. Lancaster plays the airport head, Dean Martin portrays a pilot, George Kennedy commands the ground crew, and other all-stars mill about. Top acting honors go to Van Heflin as the distraught bomber and Maureen Stapleton as his concerned wife. Nominated for 10 Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Best Supporting Actress (Stapleton), and Best Adapted Screenplay (George Seaton), this absurdly copped the Best Supporting Actress trophy for sentimental favorite Helen Hayes as an elderly stowaway — as the New York Times‘ Vincent Canby correctly put it, her emoting was, “let’s face it, just a teentsy-weentsy bit terrible.”

The massive success of Airport guaranteed there would be sequels, and the first was Airport 1975 (1974), a laughable yarn in which a 747 gets clipped by a small plane, leading to most of the crew being killed or maimed. It’s up to a stewardess (Karen Black) to take charge, all while receiving instruction from those on the ground (Charlton Heston and returning George Kennedy). This is the one with the singing, guitar-strumming nun (Helen Reddy) and the young girl (Linda Blair) requiring an organ transplant, two bits parodied perfectly in Airplane! Oh, you also get Gloria Swanson as herself. This was #7 among the year’s top moneymakers, just under The Godfather Part II and just above The Longest Yard.

Airport ’77 (1977) sounds like it would be the dopiest of them all, but it’s actually not bad, thanks to a surprisingly strong cast and a tendency to avoid any camp. In this one, a 747 is hijacked by several criminals who then proceed to send the plane straight into the ocean. It’s up to the pilot (Jack Lemmon!) to figure out how to save the submerged passengers. James Stewart, Lee Grant, Christopher Lee, and Olivia de Havilland are among the cast heavyweights, and, yes, George Kennedy is back again. This earned a pair of Oscar nominations for Best Art Direction & Set Decoration and Best Costume Design.

The Concorde… Airport ’79 (1979) is not only the worst picture in the Airport series, it might be the worst of all ‘70s disaster flicks (and that’s really saying something). It was also the first to not turn a profit stateside, earning only $13 million (compared to Airport’s $100M, Airport 1975’s $47M, and Airport ‘77’s $30M). A scientist (Robert Wagner) involved in illegal arms dealing must kill his girlfriend (Susan Blakely) after she finds out about his dirty activities, but rather than, say, strangling or shooting her, he arranges to have the plane on which she’s traveling blown out of the sky. Awful in every respect, it does feature a wonderfully kitschy cast: Charo, Martha Raye, game show host John Davidson, Doritos spokesman Avery Schreiber, and Jimmy “Dyn-o-mite!” Walker. And, yes, George Kennedy returns yet again. His character is inexplicably now a pilot, and he gets to answer a stewardess’ claim that “You pilots are such men!” with “They don’t call it a cockpit for nothing, honey!”

Extras on each title consist of film historian audio commentary; the theatrical trailers; and trailers for other movies offered by Kino.

Airport: ★★½

Airport 1975: ★½

Airport ’77: ★★½

The Concorde… Airport ’79: ★

BALLERINA (2025). One of the numerous highlights from the 2021 James Bond offering No Time to Die was the sequence in which Daniel Craig’s 007 was briefly joined in his adventures by a new character, a CIA agent named Paloma. Ana de Armas did wonders with her limited screen time, so much so that future stories involving this exuberant, kick-ass gunslinger would have been promising. Instead, we find de Armas having segued into the role of another weapon-wielding warrior woman in another lucrative franchise, portraying assassin Eve Macarro in an action flick that was promoted as “From The World of John Wick.” Taking place circa the time of John Wick: Chapter 3 — Parabellum, this finds Keanu Reeves returning to one of his signature roles for a couple of scenes — its focus, however, is squarely on Eve, who trains for years as part of the Ruska Roma crime outfit all while hoping to one day avenge the murder of her father, killed while she was a child by a rival mob leader (Gabriel Byrne). She’s forbidden from carrying out her vendetta by the Ruska Roma director (returning Anjelica Huston), but she disobeys orders and acquires information from Continental Hotel manager Winton Scott (returning Ian McShane) before heading to the enemy’s home base in Austria. As an action film, Ballerina mostly gets the job done, offering the expected quota of expertly mounted gun battles and hand-to-hand skirmishes — oh, and a flamethrower fight that’s pretty cool. As part of the John Wick world, though, it feels rather inconsequential, with not much imagination in the mythmaking or world-building. And while de Armas is suitable for the role, her dour  and one-note character feels more like an impersonal killing machine than John Wick ever did.

Blu-ray extras include a making-of featurette; deleted and extended scenes; and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★½

ISLE OF DOGS (2018). Despite a rating (PG-13) that allows for viewing by children, despite the animated nature of the piece, and despite the focus on our cuddly canine companions, Wes Anderson’s Isle of Dogs is decidedly not one for the kiddies. In a pinch, parents are probably better off streaming Fifty Shades of Grey for their youngsters — at least in that film, there are no shots of a dog’s skeletal remains, the result of nobody being able to get the poor mutt’s locked cage door open. On the other hand, adults are encouraged to check out this stop-motion animated treat, which employs a quirky style to relate its tale of a futuristic Japan in which all dogs have been confiscated to nearby Trash Island after a canine-related virus has swept through the country. The fascistic ruling class ultimately seeks to kill, not just quarantine, all dogs, with only a pro-dog professor (voiced by Akira Ito), his dedicated assistant (Yoko Ono!), and his courageous students seeking to thwart this insidious agenda. For his part, a little boy named Atari (Koyu Rankin) misses his dog Spots and sets out to Trash Island on a rescue mission. Upon arrival, he encounters resistance from a gruff stray named Chief (Bryan Cranston) but receives assistance from a quartet of former pets (Edward Norton, Bill Murray, Jeff Goldblum, and Bob Balaban). The stop-motion animation is even more impressive than that displayed in Anderson’s previous romp in this realm, 2009’s Fantastic Mr. Fox, and the multi-faceted plot continually branches out in imaginative and unexpected ways. This earned a pair of Oscar nominations for Best Animated Feature and Best Original Score (Alexandre Desplat).

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray edition include audio commentary by Anderson and Goldblum; a making-of featurette; a set tour with co-star F. Murray Abraham; and animation tests.

Movie: ★★★½

THE LIFE OF CHUCK (2025). Migraines are almost assured when reading the rather twee description of The Life of Chuck in studio promos: “This tale celebrates the life of Charles ‘Chuck’ Krantz as he experiences the beauty of love, the pain of loss, and the multitudes contained within us all.” Even acknowledging the lift from Walt Whitman, that line makes the movie sound overreaching at best and pretentious at worst. Yet writer-director Mike Flanagan’s adaptation of Stephen King’s short story somewhat pulls off its lofty ambitions, even if the whole is less than the sum of its parts (or multitudes?). The film is split into three acts and related in reverse chronology. The first section centers on the end of the world, with a teacher (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and his ex-wife (Karen Gillan) among those noticing that, amidst all the chaos, there are endless billboards and commercials thanking someone named Chuck for 39 great years. The middle act focuses on said Chuck (Tom Hiddleston), an accountant who breaks out into an impromptu street dance, unaware that a brain tumor will kill him within the year. The final section centers on Chuck as a child (played at various ages by Cody Flanagan, Benjamin Pajak, and Jacob Tremblay), an orphan who lives with his grandparents (Mark Hamill and Mia Sara) in a house in which one room is always kept locked. The most powerful moments are borrowed from elsewhere — Whitman’s “Song of Myself,” Carl Sagan’s Cosmic Calendar, a climactic bit from 2001: A Space Odyssey — but they add purpose and structure to a flawed if fascinating picture that might otherwise feel like little more than a Hallmark card writ large. As expected, the acting is outstanding, with Ejiofor and Hamill particularly memorable.

Blu-ray extras include audio commentary by Flanagan; a making-of featurette; and interviews with Hiddleston, Ejiofor, and Hamill.

Movie: ★★★

NIGHT OF THE JUGGLER (1980). Here’s one of those movies made during a period when every other filmmaker shooting in New York City was seemingly determined to show the city at its grungiest and most squalid. In the tradition of Taxi Driver, The Warriors, and Fort Apache, The Bronx comes Night of the Juggler, a compelling thriller that loses a step toward the end but remains weirdly watchable. Angry that his building in the Bronx has gone to hell thanks to the greedy elite, a lunatic (Cliff Gorman) plans to kidnap the teenage daughter of a real estate tycoon and hold her for ransom. Instead, he accidentally snatches the daughter (Abby Bluestone) of working-class ex-cop Sean Boyd (James Brolin), who scours the seedy parts of the city while being pursued himself by a vindictive cop (Dan Hedaya). Richard Castellano, known for his catchphrase “So what’s the story?” from his Oscar-nominated turn in 1970’s Lovers and Other Strangers, plays a sympathetic detective while Mandy Patinkin appears in one of his earliest roles as a Puerto Rican cab driver who’s involved in a thrillingly executed chase scene. The location shooting, particularly the scenes set on 42nd Street, captures the city’s true grit (pre-cleanup, anyway), but the story grows more improbable with the late-inning introduction of Maria (Julie Carmen), an animal shelter worker who implausibly makes it her mission to help Boyd by tagging along like a faithful canine companion. Still, Brolin’s intensity and Gorman’s loopiness remain assets throughout.

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray edition include film historian audio commentary; interviews with Brolin and Carmen; and a look at director Sidney J. Furie’s involvement with the film (he shot a good chunk of it before a production delay resulted in him quitting the picture, replaced by Robert Butler).

Movie: ★★★

RAW MEAT (aka DEATH LINE) (1973). The title on the case of the new Blue Underground edition says RAW MEAT, with “(aka DEATH LINE)” printed small under it. But Raw Meat was the moniker given by duplicitous U.S. distributors hoping to convince people they were seeing a zombie flick — Death Line was the original U.K. title, and the film has become known well enough stateside that more folks arguably refer to it with that title (it’s also billed that way on streaming). Plus, Raw Meat was edited by seven minutes to remove the most offending moments, and this 4K + Blu-ray edition offers the uncut movie. Even at the full 87 minutes, this feels curiously incomplete and a bit rushed toward the end — its length is a disappointment only because what’s on view is an extremely accomplished horror film. At a London subway station, people have a habit of vanishing, and it turns out the snatcher (Hugh Armstrong) is a descendant of the survivors of a Victorian-era tunnel collapse who lived underground for decades and turned to cannibalism to survive. Despite his horrific deeds, Armstrong’s flesh eater (the character is simply billed in the credits as “The Man”) is the sympathetic sort of monster (see also Lawrence Talbot and Frankenstein’s creation), particularly when he dotes on his dying wife (June Turner as “The Woman”). Beyond its terror overtones, what gives the picture a tremendous lift is the delightful repartee between Donald Pleasence and Norman Rossington, respectively cast as the cynical and constantly complaining Inspector Calhoun and his perpetually patient underling, Detective Sergeant Rogers. Christopher Lee turns up in one scene as a smarmy MI5 suit.

Extras include audio commentary by cowriter/director Gary Sherman, producer Paul Maslansky, and assistant director Lewis More O’Ferrall; an interview with Armstrong; and a poster gallery.

Movie: ★★★

FROM SCREEN TO STREAM

BARBERSHOP: THE NEXT CUT (2016). The best of the Barbershop quartet (following 2002’s Barbershop, 2004’s Barbershop: Back in Business, and 2005’s Beauty Shop), Barbershop: The Next Cut offers more laughs and more meaningful commentary than previous installments in the series. Calvin’s Barbershop is still being run by its namesake (series star Ice Cube), but the formerly all-male Chicago business is now coed, with the smart and sensible Angie (Regina Hall) and her ladies offering beauty-shop services right alongside Calvin, crotchety Eddie (Cedric the Entertainer), and the other barbers. Whereas the first two Barbershop entries employed the gimmicky plotline of rival developers attempting to swallow up the venerable venue, this one turns more toward the day’s headlines, with Calvin and his crew worrying about — and being affected by — the crime that’s tearing apart their community. It makes for many somber moments, but the humor isn’t neglected in other scenes, thanks to the contributions of, among others, Sean Patrick Thomas as the sensitive Jimmy, J.B. Smoove as the opportunistic One-Stop, and, of course, Cedric the Entertainer. Only Dante Cole, utterly annoying as the sexist and preening Dante, fails to draw any laughs. Other subplots freely come and go — the most prominent centers on a stylist (singer Nicki Minaj) coming between married employees (Common and Eve) — but the twin strengths of the movie remain its amusing asides and, across the field, its civic-minded seriousness.

Movie: ★★★

BIG (1988). The late 1980s saw a rash of what were quickly dubbed “body-switch comedies,” with the worst one — the hideous Like Father Like Son, starring Dudley Moore and Kirk Cameron — leading the way in 1987. The following two years brought 18 Again! (George Burns and Charlie Schlatter), Vice Versa (Judge Reinhold and Fred Savage), and Dream a Little Dream (Jason Robards and Corey Feldman), but there’s no argument over Big being the best of the bunch. Despite the classification, this charming film from director Penny Marshall and writers Gary Ross and Anne Spielberg (Steven’s sister) is more body-change than body-switch, as 13-year-old Josh Baskin (David Moscow), after wishing he was big in front of an ominous fairground machine, wakes up the next morning to discover that he has the body of an adult (Tom Hanks). With his best friend Billy (Jared Rushton) by his side, he searches for a way to reverse the curse; in the meantime, though, he goes to New York and lands a job at a toy-manufacturing company, where his childlike views earn him the appreciation of the CEO (Robert Loggia), the ire of a rival executive (John Heard), and the affection of another colleague (Elizabeth Perkins). Big is a disarmingly sweet movie, with the story convincingly (and amusingly) pitting Josh’s naivety against the realities of the adult world. The entire cast is splendid, although it’s Hanks who deserves the most kudos for conveying the multitudinous emotions battering Josh. A box office hit (#9 for the year, just under Cocktail and just above Die Hard), this earned Oscar nominations for Best Actor and Best Original Screenplay.

Movie: ★★★

CAFÉ SOCIETY (2016). This Woody Allen feature finds the omniscient narrator (Allen himself) beginning the picture by commenting on the Technicolor glory of vintage Hollywood flicks. That’s the cue for three-time Oscar-winning cinematographer Vittorio Storaro (Apocalypse Now, Reds, The Last Emperor) to splash the screen with gorgeous, color-saturated images that deserve to be in the service of a better movie — ditto the production design by regular Allen contributor Santo Loquasto. In all other respects, this is a particularly drowsy effort from the prolific filmmaker. The story finds the Allen surrogate, a young nebbish named Bobby Dorfman (Jesse Eisenberg), moving from New York to Los Angeles, where he ends up working for his Uncle Phil (Steve Carell), a powerful agent, and falling for Phil’s secretary Vonnie (Kristen Stewart). What Bobby doesn’t realize is that Vonnie is the mistress of the married agent; after various complications, he returns to New York, where he goes into business with his older, not entirely reputable brother Ben (Corey Stoll) and falls for the lovely Veronica (Blake Lively). Familiar Allen themes and plotlines are regurgitated for the umpteenth time, but here there are no hilarious quips or standout performances to prop them up — few lines raise so much as a mild chuckle, and none of the actors have characters vibrant enough to break through the narrative flatlining (Stewart arguably comes closest, although her role isn’t particularly well-defined). That’s Sheryl Lee, Twin Peaks’ Laura Palmer herself, playing Carell’s wife.

Movie: ★★

THE RATINGS GAME (1984). Despite garnering stellar reviews upon its debut 41 years ago, the first original movie produced by Showtime was largely MIA for decades, with its only home-video outings proving to be on VHS from Paramount and, in a badly scanned version renamed The Mogul, on DVD from the no-name Legacy Entertainment. Things changed, though, when Olive Films (which shut down two years ago) brought the film back from the void via Blu-ray and DVD in 2016 and streaming services like Amazon Prime and Tubi started offering it soon after. Danny DeVito (who also directed) stars as Vic DeSalvo, a trucking magnate who hoofs it from New Jersey to Hollywood in the hopes of becoming a TV celebrity. He shops his scripts around to all the networks but none bite — at least until circumstances lead to the struggling network MBC getting hold of his wretched screenplay for Sittin’ Pretty (a show that makes The Dukes of Hazzard look like Hill Street Blues by comparison) and shooting the pilot episode. But the only way for Vic to ensure his baby is a smash hit is to tamper with the rating system (the fictional Computron subbing for the actual Nielsen) and, for that, he turns to his girlfriend Francine (Rhea Perlman), who happens to work at Computron. The razor-sharp script by Jim Mulholland and Michael Barrie contains countless knowing digs at the TV industry, and the mock shows created for MBC (H.O.T. B.O.D.S. and Levar, the pimp series Nunzio’s Girls, etc.) are inspired. Look for future Seinfeld co-stars Jerry Seinfeld and Michael Richards in small parts.

Movie: ★★★½

THE TOWERING INFERNO (1974). The top-grossing ‘70s disaster flick — even over Airport and The Poseidon Adventure — The Towering Inferno was also the top-grossing movie of 1974 (just ahead of two Mel Brooks classics, Blazing Saddles and Young Frankenstein, and fellow disaster yarn Earthquake). It was also the only one to pick up a Best Picture Academy Award nomination, which ludicrously pitted it against such worthy contenders as Chinatown, The Conversation, Lenny, and winner The Godfather Part II. This time, an impressive array of all-stars is trapped in a blazing skyscraper, with the edifice’s architect (Paul Newman) and the fire chief (Steve McQueen) leading the rescue attempts. Among those fighting fire with ire are Fred Astaire as a suave con man, William Holden as the corner-cutting builder, Faye Dunaway (wasted) as the architect’s girlfriend, and — get this — O.J. Simpson as the building’s security officer, a guy so sweet that he even saves a cat from getting roasted. It’s dumb but nondemanding fun. Nominated for eight Oscars, including Best Supporting Actor for Astaire (his only competitive nomination, although he had won an Honorary Academy Award back in 1950) and the aforementioned Best Picture, it won three: Best Cinematography, Best Film Editing, and Best Original Song (“We May Never Love Like This Again,” from the same duo who wrote The Poseidon Adventure’s equally treacly, also Oscar-winning “The Morning After”). Newman and Holden would later co-star in 1980’s lousy When Time Ran Out…, the massive flop largely responsible for ending the disaster flick cycle.

Movie: ★★½