FILM FRENZY

Melissa Gilbert and Michael Landon in Little House on the Prairie (Photo: Lionsgate)

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.)

BECAUSE I SAID SO (2007). A nasty piece of cinema posing as a romantic comedy, Because I Said So is a vicious stab at the maternal instinct that also manages to humiliate the iconic actress at its center. Diane Keaton plays Daphne, a 59-year-old woman who still dotes on her daughter Milly (Mandy Moore). Determined to find Mr. Right for Milly, Daphne interviews prospective suitors and settles on a wealthy architect (Tom Everett Scott), but her plans are upset by the additional presence of a struggling musician (Gabriel Macht). So does Milly do the right thing and choose between the two guys? Not exactly; instead, she holds onto both unsuspecting boyfriends, spending alternate days (and perhaps alternate hours of the same day) being wined and dined and shagged by both of them. Not even Moore’s sunshine personality can cover up Milly’s awful and unfair behavior, which towers over the rest of the picture like Muhammad Ali over Sonny Liston. For all its faults — reprehensible characters, grotesque racial profiling (check out the Asian masseuses), a dog not only humping the furniture after hearing moans emanating from an Internet porn site but actually licking the computer screen as well — the movie’s most unforgivable sin is its treatment of the great Diane Keaton, and watching her humiliated on camera (she shrieks! she whines! she falls on her ass!) is inexcusable. Just a few years earlier, Keaton had played a character who was sexy, smart, and funny in Something’s Gotta Give. This one’s more like Something Gave Out.

There are no DVD extras.

Movie: ★

THE GIRL WHO LEAPT THROUGH TIME (2006) / THE BAD GUYS 2 (2025). Given the astonishing success and media saturation of the Netflix global phenomenon KPop Demon Hunters, it only seems like there are no other animated movies out there. Here are two, one reissued for its 4K debut and the other freshly arrived on home entertainment platforms.

Yasutaka Tsutsui’s 1967 novel The Girl Who Leapt Through Time is the gift that keeps on giving, having served as the source for live-action films (including one from the director of the cult fave House/Hausu), television series, graphic novels, and even a play. Then there’s the animated feature, an early credit for director Mamoru Hosada (Belle, the Oscar-nominated Mirai). Loosely borrowing from Tsutsui’s book, scripter Satoko Okudera has fashioned a coming-of-age tale that’s elevated by its flights of fantasy. Makoto is the teenage time traveler, whose growing pains take an unusual path when she discovers she has the ability to freely move through time. The usual adolescent frivolities dominate Makoto’s decisions (she spends hours reliving the same karaoke session over and over and over again), but a tragedy occurs that ends up taking the story down a darker and more complicated path.

Based on Aaron Blabey’s children’s book series, 2022’s The Bad Guys was the sort of toon project Hollywood now churns out with measured expediency: Take a handful of name actors and plug them into a brightly lit and breathlessly convoluted storyline that amuses in fits and starts. The Bad Guys is pleasant if not particularly distinguished, and the same can be said for The Bad Guys 2. Like its predecessor, it feels like a lift from Despicable Me, as it centers on a core group of bad guys (Despicable Us?) who are ultimately revealed to be good guys. In this second installment, Wolf (voiced by Sam Rockwell), Snake (Marc Maron), Tarantula (Awkwafina), Shark (Craig Robinson), and Piranha (Anthony Ramos) are forced back into a life of crime by the Bad Girls (Danielle Brooks, Natasha Lyonne, and Maria Bakalova).

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray SteelBook edition of The Girl Who Leapt Through Time (a regular edition is also available) include audio commentary by Hosoda and the voice cast; storyboards; and trailers. Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray + Digital Code edition of The Bad Guys 2 include audio commentary by director Pierre Perifel, co-director JP Sans, head of character animation Benjamin Willis, head of story Katherine de Vries, and head of cinematography, layout Théophile Bondoux; a making-of featurette; deleted scenes; and the animated short Little Lies and Alibis.

The Girl Who Leapt Through Time: ★★★

The Bad Guys 2: ★★½

THE LAST HORROR FILM (1982). And here most people thought it was Wes Craven’s Scream that introduced meta madness to the horror film template. Instead, it was probably The Last Horror Film (aka Fanatic), a little-seen indie from the previous decade, that first took the ball and stumbled with it. Joe Spinell and Carolina Munro, who had already worked together on 1978’s goofy Starcrash (see From Scream To Stream below) and 1980’s notorious Maniac, reunited for what at its wackiest moments feels like someone mixed up the reels of a low-rent slasher flick with an in-house promotional piece for the Cannes Film Festival. The slasher material is pretty amateurish, with Spinell cast as an NYC taxi driver who’s obsessed with actress Jana Bates (Munro) and wants her to star in a movie he hopes to make. He follows her to Cannes, where, as the star of a horror yarn called (coincidentally) Scream, she’s pitted for the fest’s Best Actress statue against Faye Dunaway, Jane Fonda, Julie Christie, and Meryl Streep. But members of her entourage soon start getting murdered in bloody fashion — is the cabbie the killer? There are twists and turns and lotsa gore, but what’s fascinating about the picture is its makers’ guerilla approach, stealthily shooting ample footage from the actual ’81 festival: There’s a humongous outdoor display for For Your Eyes Only, there’s Kris Kristofferson turning up to plug the reedited Heaven’s Gate, there are the usual topless starlets, and more time-capsule tidbits.

Blu-ray extras include an introduction by Troma president Lloyd Kaufman (whose studio later picked up the film for DVD distribution); the 1986 short film Mr. Robbie, starring Spinell; and an episode of Troma’s web series Kabukiman’s Cocktail Corner.

Movie: ★★

LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE: THE COMPLETE SERIES (1974-1983). I still recall a plug I saw in an issue of TV Guide during my youth, one which showed the Ingalls family members all smiling and the copy reading, “Little House on the Prairie: Watch It With Love!” It struck me that very few shows could have gotten away with such a tagline (“Kolchak: The Night Stalker: Watch It With Love!,” “60 Minutes: Watch It With Love!”), but here the sentiment rang true. NBC’s bookend piece to the period’s even greater hit series, CBS’s The Waltons, this show based on the book series by Laura Ingalls Wilder was initially a treat for the whole family, relating the adventures of frontier family man Charles Ingalls (Michael Landon), his pious wife Caroline (Karen Grassle), and their daughters Laura (Melissa Gilbert), Mary (Melissa Sue Anderson), and Carrie (alternating twins billed as Lindsay Sidney Greenbush). The pilot movie was excellent, and the series initially spent time on period flavor as well as situations unique to life in a frontier town in late 19th-century Minnesota. Social issues were occasionally addressed (racism, rape, alcoholism, disabilities, etc.), and the program’s religious trimmings were rarely overbearing. But as the series wore on through the years, it resembled a soap opera more than anything, with new characters always introduced (look for Jason Bateman and Shannen Doherty as two of the young’uns) and new developments failing to engage. The series remained consistently popular, only cracking the Nielsen Top 10 twice (and peaking at #7 in Season Four) but hitting the Top 20 for most of its nine-season run. It was an Emmy runt, though, earning citations for its technical achievements but only scoring one major nomination for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Drama (Anderson for Season Four, not surprisingly the one in which Mary goes blind).

The Blu-ray box set finds all nine seasons and 204 episodes spread out over 45 discs; also included are the 1974 pilot and the three post-series TV movies (1983-1984). Extras consist of a 6-part documentary and the original screen test with Landon and Gilbert.

Series: ★★★

MATERIALISTS (2025). Writer-director Celine Song’s 2023 debut feature Past Lives earned rapturous reviews and Oscar nominations for Best Picture and Best Original Screenplay, so a sophomore slump loomed large as a distinct possibility. Certainly, Materialists won’t be dominating year-end chatter like its predecessor, although the A24 suits can wipe away any tears with dollar bills, as it’s become the studio’s third highest-grossing film internationally (under Everything Everywhere All at Once and Civil War). At any rate, this is an extremely confident picture, and it showcases one performance that absolutely should be in the running for Best of ’25 honors. Dakota Johnson plays Lucy Mason, the most successful matchmaker at the NYC outfit Adore. Attending a past client’s wedding, she meets Harry Castillo (Pedro Pascal), a so-called “unicorn” because he checks all the right boxes in the dating game: handsome, confident, intelligent, and oh-so-rich. But Harry isn’t interested in becoming an Adore client — he’s only interested in dating Lucy, and they soon become a power couple. But matters get complicated with the reemergence of John Pitts (Chris Evans), Lucy’s perennially poor ex-boyfriend. The question at the center of Materialists — will Lucy choose the rich man even though she might not love him or the impoverished guy who could be her true soulmate? — has powered many a romcom both good and ghastly, but if this foundation is disappointingly conventional, Song’s approach is not, as she buoys it with sparking dialogue and a unique backdrop. All three stars shine, yet the best work comes from Zoë Winters, excellent and ultimately heartbreaking as an Adore client unable to find that special someone.

Blu-ray extras consist of audio commentary by Song; a making-of piece; and a chat with Japanese Breakfast about the song the band wrote for the film, “My Baby (Got Nothing at All).”

Movie: ★★★

7 WOMEN (1965). John Ford’s final picture was neither a Western nor a vehicle for John Wayne; instead, it was this interesting misfire that unfolds in 1935 rural China. The setting is a Christian mission outpost peopled by seven women and two men — among those assembled are a henpecked husband (Eddie Albert), his temperamental wife (Betty Field), and a naïve young staffer (Lolita’s Sue Lyon). As for the head of the mission, that would be the strict and hypocritical Agatha Andrews (Margaret Leighton), and she’s the one most affected by the arrival of D.R. Cartwright (Anne Bancroft), a profane and hard-drinking doctor who has little use for Agatha’s brand of religion. But when Mongolian warriors led by the cruel Tunga Khan (Mike Mazurki) descend upon the post, it’s Dr. Cartwright rather than Agatha who understands how best to handle the dangerous situation. The necessity of sacrifice for the greater good, the conflicts between the civilized and untamed worlds, raging masculinity as a weapon unto itself — Ford’s favorite themes are all present and accounted for, always bubbling underneath the surface and often rising to the top as the narrative occasion demands. But while the subtext remains solid, the story proper is decidedly more ragged, with too many broadly defined characters and too many knotty incidents unable to stand out and breathe on their own.

Blu-ray extras consist of a vintage promotional piece; the 1965 Oscar-winning animated classic The Dot and the Line: A Romance in Lower Mathematics; and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★½

SPENSER: FOR HIRE: THE COMPLETE SERIES (1985-1988). I’m always fascinated to discover what short-lived TV series famous actors made when they weren’t headlining their various hit series. For example, Bill Bixby had great success with My Favorite Martian, The Courtship of Eddie’s Father, and The Incredible Hulk, but how many remember 1983’s Goodnight, Beantown, a sitcom co-starring Mariette Hartley? And Larry Hagman’s work in I Dream of Jeannie and especially Dallas guarantees his name will never be forgotten, but what about Here We Go Again, a sitcom that was reportedly ranked dead last out of all 75 shows to air in 1973, or Orleans, with Hagman a Louisiana judge in a drama that lasted all of eight episodes in 1997? Then there’s the case of Robert Urich, who by my count starred in no less than 13 series, a whopping eight of which lasted no more than one season. But among the quickly dismissed likes of the Bewitched spin-off Tabitha, the TV adaptation of the hit film Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice, and the paltry four aired episodes of the sitcom It Had to Be You (co-starring Faye Dunaway), there was some semi-sustained success. One was Vega$, created by Michael Mann for ABC and lasting three seasons (1978-1981); another was Spenser: For Hire, also produced for ABC and also lasting three seasons. The latter finds the charismatic actor cast as a former Boston cop who offers his services to those who require it, whether it’s a man searching for a wife who’s turned bank robber or a teenage boy who needs protection after witnessing a murder. The storylines were strictly generic prime-time fodder, but what gave the series some merit was the work by not only Urich but also co-star Avery Brooks, memorably cast as the mysterious enforcer Hawk.

The DVD box set houses all 65 episodes from all three seasons, but it does not include the quartet of post-series TV movies (1993-1995). There are no extras.

Series: ★★½

FILM CLIPS

BRIDE HARD (2025). Melissa McCarthy had the good fortune to co-star in a hilarious bride movie (Bridesmaids) and star in a hilarious action yarn (Spy). Rebel Wilson has opted to go for the mashup, headlining an action flick set at a wedding. But there’s little in Bride Hard that’s exciting or amusing — even that awkward title bungles its assignment. Wilson is Sam, whose job as a secret agent leaves little time to be spent with her pals. Despite a falling-out with her best friend Betsy (Anna Camp, one of Wilson’s Pitch Perfect colleagues) that strips her of maid of honor duties, she nevertheless elects to attend the wedding, and her unique training is required once a group of mercenaries takes over the ceremony. This uninspired comedy hardly represents a match made in movie heaven, with the comedy even more anemic than the action.

There are no Blu-ray extras.

Movie: ★½

MY DEAD FRIEND ZOE (2025). Given that title, one would be forgiven for believing My Dead Friend Zoe was one of those ‘80s horror comedies like My Demon Lover and My Mom’s a Werewolf. On the contrary, this is a sturdy seriocomedy — in the final analysis more serious than comedic — inspired by the experiences of writer-director Kyle Hausmann-Stokes when he served as a paratrooper during the Iraq War. A sobering piece on PTSD, it follows U.S. Amy Afghanistan veteran Merit (Sonequa Martin-Green) as she tries to cope with her day-to-day existence. She butts heads with her Alzheimer’s-afflicted Vietnam vet grandfather (Ed Harris) and avoids the VA counselor (Morgan Freeman) who urges her to confront her demons. Most of all, she’s haunted by the deceased Zoe (Natalie Morales), her best friend, fellow soldier, and now wisecracking ghost. A startling twist adds extra power to a touching tale about overcoming survivor’s guilt and moving forward.

Blu-ray extras consist of a making-of featurette and deleted scenes.

Movie: ★★★

FROM SCREEN TO STREAM

FREDDY VS. JASON (2003) / A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET (2010). With the first seven films in the Freddy Krueger franchise hitting 4K in a new collection (reviewed here), here’s a look at the two titles not included in that set.

Freddy vs. Jason manages to combine two durable franchises in a manner that doubtless made mutual devotees of the Police Academy and Rambo series green with envy. By virtue of its plot, which finds a way to bring these twin titans of terror together for the first time, this automatically is a cut above most of the previous sequels in either series (the Friday the 13th franchise began in 1980, four years before A Nightmare on Elm Street). Rather than just present 90-odd minutes of teens being slaughtered by the carload, a few moments are graciously donated to explain exactly how Freddy (Robert Englund, of course) and Jason Voorhees (Ken Kirzinger) first meet; that still leaves them with plenty of time for tedious kid-gutting before the film gets to the climactic showdown between the pair. Englund’s wisecracks as Krueger stopped being funny somewhere around the close of Reagan’s second term, while Jason hasn’t exactly been the most compelling character ever placed on screen — still, they’re a preferable screen duo than, say, Adam Sandler and Kevin James, and the final battle should satisfy fans of both franchises.

A Nightmare on Elm Street, meanwhile, is another worthless horror remake from Michael Bay, who had already pillaged and plundered the likes of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre and Friday the 13th by producing needless rehashes. This one’s dull more than anything, and it’s furthered hampered by unappealing teen protagonists (at least the original series had a few likable lads and lasses), a slack script full of ridiculous moments (such as the clod who somehow falls asleep while swimming laps in the school pool!), cheesy CGI effects, and a letdown performance by Jackie Earle Haley, who, as Freddy, possesses neither Englund’s enervating energy nor his way with a cackled line. The bottom line is that it isn’t just Elm Street that’s affected; you’ll find a nightmare on any street housing a couch potato with the misfortune to be watching this.

Freddy vs. Jason: ★★

A Nightmare on Elm Street: ★

MARY OF SCOTLAND (1936) / THE WINGS OF EAGLES (1957) / SERGEANT RUTLEDGE (1960). Like 7 Women (reviewed above), here are three more titles from the John Ford filmography that aren’t as instantly recognizable as his many classics.

Mary of Scotland is one of the odd films out in the Ford canon, a historical costume epic so dramatically distracted that it appears the helmer’s mind was home on the range instead of confined to the studio set. Based on the Maxwell Anderson play, this stilted melodrama casts a chilly Katharine Hepburn as the title queen, who tries to rule Scotland while warding off duplicitous noblemen who would rather see her exiled or executed. Mary finds happiness when she falls in love with her protector, the Earl of Bothwell (Fredric March), but it’s Queen Elizabeth (Florence Eldridge, March’s real-life wife), fearful that Mary covets her throne, who has the final say in the matter. A similar tale about love and betrayal among the royal set — with Elizabeth herself as the smitten monarch — appeared three years later in the form of The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (starring Bette Davis and Errol Flynn), and it’s a heckuva lot more fun than this tedious endeavor.

A far cry from the likes of Stagecoach and The Searchers, The Wings of Eagles is perhaps the weakest of all John Ford-John Wayne collaborations. Wayne delivers a boisterous performance as Frank “Spig” Wead, a renowned Navy aviator who becomes a Hollywood screenwriter (credits include Ford’s They Were Expendable) after an accident leaves him paralyzed. Although the movie takes place over the course of several decades, there’s no variance in either sets or costumes — every scene looks like the 1950s — and the characterizations are more shallow than we’ve come to expect from a Ford production. At least Ward Bond is a hoot, playing a character based on John Ford himself (named John Dodge!).

Having contended with charges of racism for a good part of his career (particularly toward Native Americans), Ford served up some cinematic mea culpas during the home stretch. One such film, Sergeant Rutledge, is Ford’s roundabout tribute to the Buffalo Soldiers, with the central plotline concerning a black officer accused of raping and murdering a young white woman. The military career of Sergeant Rutledge (an excellent Woody Strode) is impeccable, but that doesn’t stop a courtroom full of irate citizens from wanting to see him hanged for his heinous crimes. But Lieutenant Cantrell (underrated Jeffrey Hunter, a far better actor than “pretty boy” peers like Troy Donahue and Tab Hunter) believes Rutledge to be innocent, so he decides to defend him by methodically piecing together the events (shown in flashback) surrounding the murder. Suspense and social commentary mingle easily in this exciting drama, marred only by a rushed and unconvincing denouement.

Mary of Scotland: ★★

The Wings of Eagles: ★★

Sergeant Rutledge: ★★★

STARCRASH (1979). Many of us fortunate enough to have been kids when the Star Wars explosion occurred in 1977 spent the rest of our youths obsessed with all things science fiction. At the age of 13, I personally couldn’t get enough of Starcrash, Italy’s low-budget answer to George Lucas’ blockbuster. The film was picked up stateside by Roger Corman, but I actually caught it while living in Portugal, where it played at a local theater longer than one would deem healthy for the minds of impressionable lads and lasses. Obviously, it was no Star Wars, but damn if it didn’t get the job done for those seeking more fantasy-laced thrills. Of course, seeing the film again as an adult, it’s an embarrassment — was I really that easy to please as a teen? Yet this isn’t a wretched movie like Dirty Grandpa or Grown Ups, where even once is too much; this is the type to be savored again and again, like a patented Ed Wood mess-terpiece. The main reason it appealed to my virginal 13-year-old eyes was, of course, beauteous Caroline Munro, who, as heroine Stella Star, dressed like nobody in the Star Wars universe. Munro, also known for earlier roles opposite James Bond, Sinbad, and Dracula, proved to be a memorable leading lady, even if this British thespian had to suffer the indignity of being dubbed by a Yank actress (Candy Clark). Even with this unfortunate handicap, Munro is, ahem, perfect as Stella Star, a space outlaw who attempts to save the universe from the cackling villain Zarth Arn (Joe Spinell). Surely the similarity of the name Zarth to Darth is a coincidence, equally as dictated by chance as the fact that this film includes characters fighting with sabers made of light, spaceships that can suddenly take off at warp speed, and a climactic assault upon a death sta— uh, thingee. But Starcrash also gives us sights previously unimagined by Star Wars, including a robot with a Southern (not British) accent, a planet populated by Amazon hotties (smelly Jawas need not apply), and rising young actor David Hasselhoff wearing as much mascara as Munro. And for street cred, there’s a decent score by Oscar winner John Barry (Out of Africa) as well as a competent, somber — and therefore dull — turn by Christopher Plummer as “The Emperor.” The way The Emperor saves everyone at the last possible nanosecond — well, it’s unlikely that even The Force could top this neat trick.

Rating For Caroline Munro Fans, Sci-Fi Completists & Bad-Movie Buffs: ★★★★

Rating For The Rest Of Humanity: ★½