FILM FRENZY

Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo in Wicked: For Good (Photo: 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.)

DANTE’S PEAK (1997). Dante’s Peak, the $116 million disaster flick directed by Roger Donaldson and starring Pierce Brosnan and Linda Hamilton, packs a fair amount of entertainment value into its 108-minute running time, but I noticed that the most diverting moment of all occurs during the end credits. In between the acknowledgments for “Mr. Donaldson’s Driver” and “Ms. Hamilton’s Driver,” in the spot where it should read, “Mr. Brosnan’s Driver,” it instead states, “Mr. Bronson’s Driver.” Let me get this straight: Unless Charles Bronson had a role in this film, perhaps as the craggy volcano, the suits at Universal Pictures spent $116 million on this picture yet couldn’t fork over a couple extra bucks to hire a proofreader? Fortunately, such rampant sloppiness is pretty much confined to this title crawl, as the rest of Dante’s Peak is a moderately gripping (if overly familiar) action jaunt that, in the manner of such disaster epics as Earthquake and The Poseidon Adventure, finds humankind waging a losing battle against one of Mother Nature’s temper tantrums. The setting is a small Washington town suddenly rocked by some minor seismic disturbances. Visiting volcanologist Harry Dalton (Bronson, excuse me, Brosnan) worries that the volcano overlooking this peaceful burg might be ready to rumble — naturally, his findings are deemed by others as too vague to warrant a mass evacuation. Just as naturally, the naysayers find themselves with egg — or rather, ash — on their faces when the lava starts to flow, requiring Dalton and the town’s mayor (Hamilton) to take charge. Despite its flaws, this is still superior to 1997’s other volcano flick, simply titled Volcano and starring Tommy Lee Jones.

Extras in the 4K UHD + Blu-ray edition include audio commentary by Donaldson and production designer Dennis Washington; a making-of featurette; and an isolated score and effects track.

Movie: ★★½

THE DEATH WISH COLLECTION (1974-1994). Brian Garfield’s 1972 novel Death Wish was constructed by the author as a warning against vigilantism, so imagine his disgust when Hollywood grabbed hold of the property and transformed it into a pro-vigilante screed. Nevertheless, it clicked with audiences, elevated 52-year-old Charles Bronson’s stateside standing (he had already long been a superstar in Europe), and led to four sequels that allowed the franchise to stretch out 20 years.

Directed by Michael Winner, the original Death Wish (1974) introduces Bronson as Paul Kersey, a mild-mannered architect known to his friends and colleagues as a “bleeding-heart liberal.” But after three punks (one played by Jeff Goldblum in his film debut as “Freak #1”) murder his wife Joanna (Hope Lange) and leave his adult daughter Carol (Kathleen Tolan) in a catatonic state following her sexual assault, Kersey slowly comes to realize that he can exorcise his desire for revenge by stalking the NYC streets and blowing away every criminal who crosses his path. Vincent Gardenia co-stars as Frank Ochoa, the NYPD detective searching for Kersey, while many familiar faces can be spotted in tiny roles, among them Moonstruck Oscar winner Olympia Dukakis, mockumentary filmmaker Christopher Guest, and activist, politician, and Jane Fonda’s former husband Tom Hayden. The plot of Death Wish is simplistic in the extreme — despite the controversial themes, it’s about as complex as any random episode of The Beverly Hillbillies — yet it’s effective agitprop, working on the viewer’s base instincts and emotions while avoiding any messy moral entanglements. The Grammy-nominated score by Herbie Hancock is an asset.

Although Death Wish was one of the top 10 grossers of 1974, Paramount never moved ahead with a sequel. But when schlockmeisters and Cannon Group heads Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus purchased the rights to the property, they got busy on a string of belated follow-ups. Bronson, Gardenia, and Winner all return for Death Wish II (1982), the only sequel that was successful from a financial standpoint (theatrically, that is; most of these films did gangbusters business in ancillary markets). Paul Kersey now lives in Los Angeles, still working as an architect and supporting his daughter Carol (Robin Sherwood, replacing the original’s Kathleen Tolan), who’s understandably still traumatized after her mother’s murder and her own rape. Carol gets raped again, and not only do these gang members (including one played by Laurence Fishburne) also sexually assault the Kerseys’ housekeeper (Silvana Gallardo), they end up murdering both women. This leads to Paul leaping back into action, with Ochoa traveling cross-country to check up on his favorite vigilante. Winner, never that imaginative a helmer in the first place, really seems to have regressed with this picture, which is artless and exploitative at every turn (scripter David Engelbach stated that he was surprised to discover that Winner added an entire and explicit rape scene to his screenplay). What was chilling about the first film was that Kersey never found the punks who killed his wife, finding his catharsis through exterminating others — this one, on the other hand, is a standard revenge flick, with Kersey focused solely on an eye for an eye.

It’s probably saying something that Death Wish 3 (1985) is the junkiest of the Death Wish sequels — it’s also the most ridiculous and, consequently, the most fun. Paul’s back in New York for this one — after an army buddy living in the slums gets murdered, the born-again vigilante moves into his friend’s roach-infested apartment, if only to make it easier to kill any and all scumbags. Even with Winner once again directing, this one isn’t as sleazy as its immediate predecessor. True, he still manages to include one of his beloved rape scenes (the victim: a Hispanic resident played by a pre-Star Trek: The Next Generation Marina Sirtis, who later accused Winner of sexual harassment and hopes he “will rot in hell for all eternity”), but the emphasis here isn’t on twisted titillation as much as on the sort of nonsensical exploits one could reasonably expect to see in the era’s actioners, those usually starring the likes of Chuck Norris and Sylvester Stallone. Case in point: Paul’s previous weapon of choice, a Colt .32 revolver, is now too girly-man, replaced first by a machine gun and then a rocket launcher! This also gets bonus points for finding roles for Oscar winner Martin Balsam (as one of the bullied neighbors) and, one of my favorite ‘70s character actors, Ed Lauter, here still kicking it as a perpetually peeved detective.

Bronson returned for Death Wish 4: The Crackdown (1987), but Winner did not. Instead, the director was J. Lee Thompson, a more polished filmmaker than Winner (he had been Oscar-nominated for The Guns of Navarone and also helmed Cape Fear and Ice Cold in Alex) but one whose career nosedived in his later years. Death Wish 4 was his seventh (of nine) pictures with Bronson, and it ranks as one of their weakest collaborations. Kersey’s back in LA, and he gets mighty steamed when the teenage daughter (Dana Barron) of his latest girlfriend (Kay Lenz) dies of a drug overdose. Paul kills the supplier and then moves onto bigger game: the mob bosses overseeing LA’s entire drug operation. John P. Ryan co-stars as the millionaire who provides the financing for Paul’s mission improbable, but knowing that 99.9% of Ryan’s roles are villainous in nature, it’s easy to see where this plot twist is heading. This is probably the worst entry in the franchise, although, in the part of a mob henchman, you do get to see Danny Trejo in the fourth of his ** checks IMDb ** 487-and-counting screen appearances.

Paul Kersey certainly racked up the frequent flyer miles over the course of the series: NYC (and, at the end, Chicago) in the first, LA in the second, NYC in the third, LA in the fourth, and back to NYC for Death Wish V: The Face of Death (1994). The series mercifully comes to an end with this entry, in which Paul squares off against the psychotic ex-husband (Michael Parks, annoying in the manner of a yappy Pekinese) of his latest squeeze (Lesley Anne-Down). Written and directed by Allan A. Goldstein, this one’s pretty lousy, although I did admire the death-by-exploding-soccer-ball scene. Incidentally, Kersey has a different lover in each of the five films (in order, Lange, Bronson’s real-life wife Jill Ireland, Deborah Raffin, Lenz, and now Anne-Down), and four of them die. Moral of the series: Don’t date Paul Kersey. And as for the numbered titles? I recall reading back in the day that the Halloween sequels switched from Roman numerals (Halloween II and Halloween III) to Arabic numerals (Halloween 4 and Halloween 5) because the producers figured the target audience would be stupid enough to think that IV and V meant they were foreign-language productions(!); similarly, Death Wish II led to Death Wish 3 and Death Wish 4 because Cannon’s research showed that audiences didn’t understand Roman numerals … although one wonders why the final entry reverted back to Death Wish V. Higher consciousness?

Blu-ray extras include audio commentary on all five films by author Paul Talbot (Bronson’s Loose! The Making of the Death Wish Films); an interview with actor John Herzfeld (who appears in a bit part in Death Wish as one of the subway muggers); an interview with Kirk Taylor (who appears in Death Wish 3 as the gang member known as The Giggler); an alternate ending for Death Wish 3; and theatrical trailers.

Death Wish: ★★★

Death Wish II: ★½

Death Wish 3: ★★½

Death Wish 4: The Crackdown: ★½

Death Wish V: The Face of Death: ★½

END OF WATCH (2012). A movie like End of Watch wouldn’t seem the sort to invite comparison to a film like The Blair Witch Project, but what they share in common is their fondness for the “found footage” format. It worked beautifully in the horror hit (when it was still fresh and informed the story in significant ways), not so much here. Yet that’s about the only major debit in what turns out to be an intense, exciting, and emotionally draining picture about the day-to-day experiences of a pair of Los Angeles Police Department officers serving and protecting down in South Central. Brian Taylor (Jake Gyllenhaal) and Mike Zavala (Michael Peña) are not only partners on the job but also best buddies in their personal lives, with Brian there when Mike and his wife Gabby (Natalie Martinez) have a baby and Mike around to listen as Brian describes the new woman (Anna Kendrick) in his life. Their deep connection also informs their standing as cops, with each having the other’s back as they deal with murderous gang members, raving crackheads, human traffickers, and more. In 2026, End of Watch probably won’t be embraced by those still seeking to defund the police, and its portrayal of ICE agents as intelligent and competent professionals now seems as fantastical as any given scene from Yellow Submarine. But writer-director David Ayer has done a commendable job of focusing on the friendship between Brian and Mike above all else, and the dialogue is ofttimes splendid, sounding less like macho movie catchphrases and more like real-life banter.

Extras in the 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray Limited Edition Steelbook consist of audio commentary by Ayers; a handful of making-of featurettes; and deleted scenes.

Movie: ★★★½

KISS OF THE SPIDER WOMAN (1985). While director Hector Babenco’s 1985 Kiss of the Spider Woman was based on Manuel Puig’s 1976 novel, writer-director Bill Condon’s 2025 Kiss of the Spider Woman was based on the 1992 stage musical. One would be forgiven for not even knowing there was a new film version, as it proved to be a box office bomb and had next to no presence on the awards circuit. The 1985 version, on the other hand, was quite the sensation in its day, grossing over 10 times its production budget on the art-house circuit and faring exceptionally well with both critics and Academy members. Set in a South American country that’s under the thumb of a right-wing military dictatorship, it finds two dissimilar men sharing one prison cell. Luis Molina (William Hurt) is a homosexual window dresser who’s in jail for taking liberties with a minor; Valentin Arregui (Raul Julia) is a political activist who’s locked up because of his leftist views. While Valentin worries about his fellow revolutionaries, Luis passes the time by recounting the campy pictures he had seen in the past, one a Nazi propaganda film and the other a yarn featuring a mysterious Spider Woman (Sonia Braga). As time passes, the men grow to understand each other, in effect loosening up Valentin and grounding Luis. Emerging in that most macho of decades, here’s a movie that takes stock of what truly defines a man, with the answers handled with extraordinary sensitivity by both Hurt and Julia. Nominated for four Oscars, including Best Picture, Director, and Adapted Screenplay (Leonard Schrader, Paul’s brother), it earned Hurt the award for Best Actor.

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray edition include a 2008 feature-length documentary on the making of the movie; an interview with Puig biographer Suzanne Jill Levine; and a short program on Puig.

Movie: ★★★½

MARRY ME (2022). The premise of Marry Me is moronic beyond compare. Two pop superstars, Kat Valdez (Jennifer Lopez) and Bastian (Maluma), have written and recorded a hit song titled “Marry Me.” They decide to get hitched at one of Kat’s concerts, streaming the ceremony to millions of fans all across the globe. But minutes before saying, “I do,” Kat learns that Bastian has been having an affair (with her assistant, no less), so she decides to instead marry a random stranger in the crowd. She settles on Charlie Gilbert (Owen Wilson), a divorced math teacher who had been reluctantly dragged to the show. Like I said, moronic. But then a funny thing happened on the way to the 10 Worst forums. Kat and Charlie get to know each other in an “opposites attract” kind of way, and it’s surprising how believable they make this relationship and how acceptable they make this absurd premise. As long as the film centers on Kat and Charlie just talking, it works. But then here come the usual dopey contrivances, including (but not limited to) a breakup that never feels real for a nanosecond, a mad dash across states to attend a crucial function, and the climactic tournament (in this case, a Mathalon) where one character has to beat the buzzer and other characters must declare their love all over again. Lopez and Wilson are fine in their tailor-made roles, but the new J-Lo songs that dominate the film are flagrantly mediocre, and so much attention is paid to the worst aspects of social media that one will want to take a shower post-viewing.

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray + Digital Code edition include audio commentary by director Kat Coiro and producer Elaine Goldsmith-Thomas; a making-of featurette; deleted scenes; a piece on the movie’s music; a lyric video for “On My Way”; and a gag reel.

Movie: ★★

THE VALLEY OF DECISION (1945). Because Marcia Davenport’s bestselling 1942 novel ran 800 pages and spanned 70 years, it would have made more sense as a TV miniseries. Of course, commercial television was still in its infancy — heck, barely out of the womb — in the 1940s and the word “miniseries” wouldn’t even be coined until the 1960s, so the events were instead brought to the silver screen, compressed to a 10-year stretch and folded inside a two-hour run time. There were few complaints, as the picture proved to be an enormous hit for MGM (it was the third top-grossing film of 1945), further solidified Greer Garson as arguably the studio’s most celebrated star, and continued the lightning-fast ascension of Gregory Peck (here in only his third picture). Kicking off in 1873 Pittsburgh, it stars Garson as Mary Rafferty, a working girl who lands a job as maid for the wealthy Scott family, whose patriarch (Donald Crisp) owns the area’s largest steel mill. Mary gets along with all the family members, but she’s especially drawn to oldest son Paul (Peck), and he soon reciprocates her affections. None of this sits well with Mary’s father (Lionel Barrymore), who blames the entire Scott clan for the on-the-job accident that left him crippled. With its emphasis on business dealings, its colorful roster of characters, and its interest in romantic entanglements, this feels like a forerunner to those prime-time soap operas so popular in the early 1980s (Dallas, Dynasty, etc.). That’s a 36-year-old Jessica Tandy, the driven Miss Daisy herself, as the shrewish Louise Kane. This earned Oscar nominations for Best Actress (Garson) and Best Music Score; for his part, Peck earned a Best Actor nomination that same year for his second film, The Keys of the Kingdom.

Blu-ray extras include a 1946 radio broadcast, also starring Garson and Peck, and the 1945 Droopy cartoon Wild and Woolfy.

Movie: ★★★

WICKED (2024) / WICKED: FOR GOOD (2025). Long before Disney villains Maleficent and Cruella de Ville were being reinterpreted as fundamentally misunderstood heroines, the stage smash Wicked had already been there, done that. The property took its time reaching movie screens, but when it did, it arrived as a two-film event. Wicked is generally (and rightly) considered the better film, spinning a wildly enjoyable tale as it introduces Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo) and Glinda (Ariana Grande) as snarling antagonists before allowing them to become BFFs. The true villain of the piece is not Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West, but rather the tag team of the garrulous, scheming Wizard of Oz (Jeff Goldblum) and the sly, sinister Madame Morrible (Michelle Yeoh). But public perception is everything (a theme so very 2024), and it’s Elphaba who’s eventually vilified and hunted. Wicked is wickedly good, with perfectly matched protagonists in Erivo and Grande, a boisterous gallery of supporting characters (including the dashing Fiyero, played with the right twinkle by Jonathan Bailey), and a balanced mix of mirth and menace. A box office smash, it earned 10 Academy Award nominations (including Best Picture and bids for Erivo and Grande), winning for Best Costume Design and Best Production Design.

No one expected Wicked: For Good to match Wicked’s Oscar fortunes, but it was downright shocking when it nabbed zero nominations after the first one snagged 10. The drop-off in entertainment value isn’t quite as pronounced, even if it’s quickly made clear that this Part Deux won’t reach the heights of its predecessor. The expository sequences and the molding of the characters are largely what helped make the first flick so memorable — in this one, the story remains gripping, but the pacing feels rushed and, aside from some early business with the irksome Boq (Ethan Slater) and Glinda’s late-inning activities, the players have settled into their grooves.

Wicked has of course already been released in various home-entertainment formats, but it’s now being reissued with Wicked: For Good for a 2-Film Collection. Both movies are offered as theatrical versions and sing-along versions; extras on both include audio commentary by director Jon M. Chu; a making-of featurette; and deleted scenes. Wicked also includes audio commentary by Erivo and Grande while Wicked: For Good provides a look at the new song “The Girl in the Bubble.”

Wicked: ★★★½

Wicked: For Good: ★★★

FROM SCREEN TO STREAM

EMPEROR OF THE NORTH (1973). I suppose I’m spewing blasphemy here, but when it comes to directors who took a particular interest in alternately showcasing, analyzing, and deconstructing macho behavior, I overall prefer the oeuvre of Robert Aldrich to that of Sam Peckinpah (although neither could compare to Howard Hawks, arguably the most underrated filmmaker in American cinema history). Emperor of the North doesn’t match the high-octane likes of such Aldrich efforts as The Dirty Dozen, The Longest Yard or even the offbeat, early-career twofer of The Big Knife and Ten Seconds to Hell (both starring that leathery strap of manhood, Jack Palance), but it’s a compelling piece of tough-guy strutting in a minimalist setting. Ernest Borgnine plays Shack, a sadistic railway conductor whose lack of empathy for his fellow man during the Great Depression means he would rather kill a hobo attempting to sneak a ride on his train than allow him free passage (indeed, the chilling opening finds him doing just that). Shack is legendary among the homeless community, but so is a drifter known as A No. 1 (Lee Marvin), more so after he announces he will be the first person to steal a ride from Shack. Borgnine was one of those OK actors whose right role at the right time (Marty) led to a lucky Oscar win, and here he’s in his default ham mode, all broad gestures, bulging eyes, and sweaty brow (see Convoy, Escape From New York, Deadly Blessing, etc.) — his Shack is terrifying only because he wields a mean chain and an even meaner hammer. Marvin, on the other hand, is nothing short of excellent as A No. 1 — wry, self-deprecating, compassionate to a fault — and Keith Carradine gooses the proceedings as Cigaret, a newbie hobo who’s all hot air and little action.

Movie: ★★★

SAFETY LAST! (1923). It has simultaneously always saddened, annoyed, and fascinated me that while Harold Lloyd was as big a star during the silent era as fellow comedians Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton, he has long since faded in the stretch, with the other two retaining their immortal status while he’s largely only known to cineasts. The theories for this are varied — his stranglehold on his own film properties prevented more people from seeing them over the ensuing decades, his more commonplace appearance compared to the other two, etc. — but there’s no question that he’s every bit on their level of genius. I’m partial to 1925’s The Freshman and 1927’s The Kid Brother, but Safety Last! is as good a place to start as any, considering it features not only the most iconic image from Lloyd’s filmography but also one of the defining shots from the entire silent era: Lloyd suspended high above the ground, hanging onto that clock for dear life. That moment comes late in the film; first, we come to know Harold (aka “The Boy”) as he moves to the big city with dreams of becoming a success so that he can summon his girl (Mildred Davis) to join him. Of course, the reality is far different from the fantasy, as Harold toils as a lowly salesperson in a department store, spending his days dodging his supercilious supervisor (Westcott Clarke), and dealing with overbearing customers. Needing a quick cash fix, Harold promises to provide the store with reams of publicity by scaling the side of the building to its very top. He actually plans for his pal (Bill Strother), a climbing expert, to perform the dangerous stunt, but after things go invariably wrong, it’s up to poor Harold to make the ascent himself. Long before Safety Last! reaches its exciting climax (and dangerous as well, since Lloyd performed most of his own stunts), it has made its mark as a screen classic, thanks to an abundance of hilarious gags as well as a typically winning performance from its star.

Movie: ★★★★

SUPERNOVA (2000). It wasn’t often that a movie with a reported budget of $90 million opened theatrically in what was once considered the graveyard month of January, but then again, Supernova was a film whose production history was so botched, it had no chance of making money in any of the 12 calendar months. The accomplished Walter Hill (The Warriors, 48 HRS.) was so disgusted with the way he and the film were being treated by MGM that he ended up quitting the picture, leading to Jack Sholder — the director of A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge, a former professor at Western Carolina University, and, incidentally, my fellow judge at the 2006 Asheville Film Festival — being hired to assemble the ample footage. The picture ended up being credited to the pseudonymous “Thomas Lee” and earned a paltry $14 million upon its release, yet for all its faults, I’ve choked on far worse sci-fi flicks in my moviegoing diet. Set in the distant future, this stars a buff James Spader as the pilot and newest member of a medical ship whose crew also includes the captain (Robert Forster), the chief medical officer (Angela Bassett), her staffers (Lou Diamond Phillips and Robin Tunney), and a computer tech (a good performance by Wilson Cruz). Answering a distress signal in deep space, they pick up a man (Peter Facinelli, Daddy Cullen in the Twilight series) who’s more duplicitous than initially assumed. Derivative in the extreme, the film borrows heavily from the likes of Event Horizon and especially Alien (right down to killing off an ostensible hero — and highly billed actor — during the early going), and Facinelli’s character makes for a feeble villain. But some of the relationships are more developed than expected (including one between a crew member and the ship’s computer!), and the visuals remain interesting throughout.

Movie: ★★