FILM FRENZY

Bill Paxton, Judd Nelson, and Wayne Newton in The Dark Backward (Photo: Sony)

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.)

BLUE THUNDER (1983) / BLUE THUNDER: THE COMPLETE SERIES (1984). While no box office bonanza, Blue Thunder did well enough to inspire a television series the following year. It’s safe to say that the movie remained in theaters longer than the prime-time show remained on the air.

At the start of Summer ’83, director John Badham enjoyed the distinction of having two movies open within three weeks of each other. The second of the pair was WarGames, which was both a critical and commercial smash (#5 at the year-end box office with a $79 million haul). Opening first was Blue Thunder, which didn’t enjoy the same level of success but at least earned decent box office (#17 for ’83, with $42 million) to go along with OK reviews. Its reputation deserves a boost, as time has revealed it to be one of that decade’s more durable techno-thrillers (a wide-ranging subgenre that includes the disparate likes of RoboCop, Firefox, and Videodrome, the last reviewed in From Screen To Stream below). Roy Scheider stars as Frank Murphy, an LAPD helicopter pilot who’s assigned alongside his rookie partner (Daniel Stern) to test Blue Thunder, a new, military-grade chopper sporting advanced weaponry and cutting-edge surveillance capabilities. Frank soon learns that there are those in the government and the military, including a former rival (Malcolm McDowell), who plot to use the airborne vehicle to make America great again by assassinating all political rivals and suppressing protests by the marginalized. Blue Thunder is a crackerjack popcorn picture, but its finer points regarding governmental overreach retain their topicality. This earned a solitary Oscar nomination for Best Film Editing.

The executives at ABC believed that Blue Thunder was popular enough to warrant a TV series, so a mere eight months after the film bowed, a weekly series hit primetime. Gone was any hint of the military-industrial complex trappings of the movie, as well as any sociopolitical ponderings. Instead, this is strictly an action series, and a pretty feeble one at that. Aside from the title whirlybird, this has no relation to the movie, with new pilots in the form of veteran Frank Chaney (James Farentino) and rookie partner Clinton Wonderlove (Dana Carvey) and the addition of a ground support team comprised of Bubba Kelsey and Ski Butowski. Bubba and Ski are played by former NFL stars Bubba Smith and Dick Butkus, and their supposedly humorous banter has the power to make ears bleed. The other series regular is Sandy McPeak as Chaney’s grouchy superior (look for Kelly Preston guest-starring in one episode as his college-age daughter), but his character proves to be as much of a one-dimensional dullard as the rest. The plots are pedestrian and predictable; the aerial footage is fine, but that’s only because they kept lifting it from the movie. It also didn’t help that two weeks after this program’s debut, CBS countered with its own super-copter show, Airwolf. That series lasted four seasons and 80 episodes; Blue Thunder lasted only three months and 11 episodes.

Extras in the 4K edition of Blue Thunder (the movie) include archival audio commentary by Badham, film editor Frank Morriss, and motion control supervisor Hoyt Yeatman; an archival three-part making-of feature; new interviews with Badham, McDowell, and co-star Candy Clark; and an extended scene. There are no extras on the Blu-ray release of Blue Thunder (the series).

Movie: ★★★

Series: ★½

BRIDESMAIDS (2011). Bridesmaids arrived with the look, feel, and attendant buzz of a sleeper hit, but its $169 million domestic haul (and $289M worldwide) and solid critical support (89% over at Rotten Tomatoes) doubtless exceeded any studio suit’s wildest expectations. Judd Apatow is one of its producers, and the film certainly falls in line more with his brand of product — raunchy comedies that often reveal unexpected depths (e.g. The 40-Year-Old Virgin) — than with the usual formulaic rom-coms with female protagonists and wedding themes (e.g. the abysmal Something Borrowed). But let’s be quick to steer most of the credit away from Apatow — and even director Paul Feig — and place it where it clearly belongs: at the feet of Kristen Wiig. Working from an Oscar-nominated screenplay she co-wrote with Annie Mumolo, she plays Annie, who’s been chosen by her lifelong best friend Lillian (Maya Rudolph) to serve as her maid of honor. But Annie feels increasingly threatened by the presence of Lllian’s new friend, the lovely and wealthy Helen (Rose Byrne), and matters soon get awkward and out-of-hand. Wiig possesses the same sort of boldness that the likes of Madeline Kahn and Bette Midler would display in comedies, yet her delicate features allow her to smoothly apply the brakes and ease back into the more vulnerable aspects of her characterization. As expected, the film contains a smattering of gross-out gags — Melissa McCarthy (earning a Best Supporting Actress Oscar nomination) is at the center of many of them — but it’s the richness of the roles, even the smallest ones, that elevates this.

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray edition include audio commentary by Wiig, McCarthy, Feig, Mumolo, and other cast members; a making-of featurette; and deleted scenes.

Movie: ★★★½

THE DARK BACKWARD (1991). The best cult films are the ones that aren’t trying to be cult films but instead reach that level through an unassuming nature, interesting and often unique characters, and a subversive streak that provides a backbone to the eccentricity of it all (e.g. This Is Spinal Tap). The worst cult films are generally the ones whose makers do their damnedest to make sure their picture is instantly proclaimed and worshipped as such (see Snakes on a Plane). Unlike genuine cult flicks, many of these wannabes are usually ignored by everyone from Day One and only achieve that status years later when folks take a peek and decide that the premise must automatically mean it’s a cult film. The Dark Backward falls into that latter category. Adam Rifkin wrote and directed this nihilistic nonsense that seems inspired by John Waters’ brand of dementia but without his utter fearlessness and total disregard for the status quo. Judd Nelson delivers a constipated performance as Marty Mall, a garbageman who’s attempting to become a successful standup comedian. But Marty is spectacularly unfunny, and it takes a third arm growing out of his back for his deceitful best friend Gus (an annoyingly over-the-top Bill Paxton) and sleazy talent agent Jackie Chrome (Wayne Newton) to both decide that this gimmick might lead to fame and fortune for all three of them. Typical scenes include Gus licking the breasts of a corpse he finds in a landfill, Gus eating chicken so old that it’s green, and Gus having an orgy with three incredibly obese women — it’s all tasteless for the sole purpose of being tasteless, which makes it come across as tedious and juvenile rather than bold and cutting-edge.

Blu-ray extras include audio commentary by Rifkin, Nelson, Paxton, and producer Brad Wyman; a making-of piece; and deleted scenes. (To purchase this title, go here.)

Movie: ★½

THE GREAT OUTDOORS (1988). For the third consecutive year, John Hughes wrote a script and handed off directorial duties to Howard Deutch. But whereas 1986’s Pretty in Pink and 1987’s Some Kind of Wonderful concentrated on Hughes’ bread and butter — teenagers! — The Great Outdoors was more reminiscent of 1987’s Planes, Trains and Automobiles in that it focused on a mismatched pair of grownups. Alas, were it even one-tenth as funny or as involving as that Steve Martin-John Candy picture — instead, this is puerile pablum notable only for marking the film debut of Annette Bening. Candy is Chet Ripley, a nature-loving Chicagoan who heads to the Wisconsin wilds for a vacation with his wife (Stephanie Faracy) and kids. Relaxation will be in short order, however, since his obnoxious brother-in-law Roman (Dan Aykroyd) arrives unexpected and uninvited, with his wife (Bening) and children in tow. Candy’s as likable as ever, and the visual punchline to a scene in which Chet consumes an enormous steak is hilarious. Otherwise, the movie relies on tired comic shtick — Chet waterskiing, Chet getting bounced on by an angry bear, Chet falling down a hill — and, because this is Hughes, it includes an absolutely worthless subplot which finds Chet’s teenage son (Chris Young) falling for a feisty local girl (Lucy Deakins).

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray edition consist of audio commentary by Deutch; a pair of film historian audio commentaries; the theatrical trailer; and trailers for other movies being offered on the Kino label.

Movie: ★½

LENNY (1974). Stage legend Bob Fosse only directed five feature films during his lifetime; planted in the middle, after 1969’s Sweet Charity and 1972’s Cabaret (for which he won the Best Director Oscar) but before 1979’s All That Jazz and 1983’s Star 80, was this engrossing biopic about Lenny Bruce, the profane and profound stand-up comic who influenced the likes of Richard Pryor, George Carlin, Bill Hicks, and numerous others. Bruce’s life, cut short when he died of a drug overdose in 1966 at the age of 40, was even more fascinating than what’s covered in this movie, but working from the successful stage hit by Julian Barry, Fosse (with Barry in tow as his scripter) opts to largely keep the focus on two specific points: Bruce’s trajectory as a controversial comedian during the 1950s and early ’60s, and his relationship with stripper Honey Harlow, who became his wife for a short period before sex and drugs took too great a toll on both of them. Hoffman is, as expected, excellent as the social satirist who risked arrest every time he employed words like “cocksucker” in his routine, so the breakout performance here belongs to Valerie Perrine as Honey. Best known as Eve Teschmacher in 1978’s Superman, she delivers a heartbreaking performance in this film, one which earned her the Best Actress prize at Cannes. A commercial success, Lenny also nabbed six Oscar nominations: Best Picture, Actor, Actress, Director, Adapted Screenplay, and Cinematography (Bruce Surtees’ black-and-white lensing crackles with the crispness of a potato chip).

Blu-ray extras consist of film historian audio commentary; interviews with Hoffman, Perrine, and film editor Alan Heim; and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★★½

NIGHT WORLD (1932). With a running time of just under one hour, here’s a pre-Code treat that’s basically a font of trivial pursuits. All of the action takes place at a nightclub run by the cheerfully corrupt Happy MacDonald (Boris Karloff). Happy’s combative wife (Dorothy Revier) is having an affair with the joint’s dance instructor (Russell Hopton), a petty tyrant who spends most of his time yelling at the chorines. That includes lowly hoofer Ruth Taylor (Mae Clarke), who’s being pursued by gambler Ed Powell (George Raft) but prefers the self-pitying socialite Michael Rand (Lew Ayres), who’s keeping himself in a drunken stupor to dull the pain of his mother (Hedda Hopper before she transformed from a mediocre actress into an odious gossip columnist) murdering his father. That’s enough incident to fill an entire season of a primetime soap opera, and that everything gets wrapped up in a mere 56 minutes is indeed impressive. Ayres receives sole star billing, doubtless because of his success in 1930’s Best Picture Oscar winner All Quiet on the Western Front — in other casting news, the picture reunites Frankenstein co-stars Karloff and Clarke and Scarface co-stars Karloff and Raft. The dialogue is as engaging as the plot developments, and, as the cherry on top, there’s a dance number choreographed by Busby Berkeley, who would break out the following year thanks to his astounding routines in such hits as 42nd Street and Footlight Parade. Clarke is particularly good as the chorus girl with a big heart, although the picture is stolen by Clarence Muse as the venue’s philosophical black doorman.

Blu-ray extras consist of two film historian audio commentaries (one with Tim Lucas) and trailers for other films on the Kino label.

Movie: ★★★

SENTIMENTAL VALUE (2025). There were two movies in 2025 that centered on a filmmaker who long ago had chosen his career over his two daughters. Jay Kelly, starring George Clooney as the titular actor, isn’t bad, but it’s so pleasant and accommodating that nothing really feels at stake. Not so writer-director Joachim Trier’s Sentimental Value, a Norwegian production which exposes raw and frayed nerves at every turn. A superb Stellan Skarsgård plays Gustav Borg, a film director whose grown daughters Nora (Renate Reinsve) and Agnes (Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas) have spent years resenting him. Gustav hopes Nora will star in his next picture, a drama that draws from their family history, but after she refuses, he taps a popular American actress (Elle Fanning) for the part. Sentimental Value feels like an intimate act birthed from both stage (think Ibsen and Chekhov) and screen (think Ingmar Bergman and Woody Allen) — it’s a character study two-squared, and it suggests that it’s never too late to mend bridges no matter how badly they’ve been burned. One of the very best films of 2025, this earned nine Academy Award nominations, including Best Picture, Actress (Reinsve), Supporting Actress (both Lilleaas and Fanning), Director, and Original Screenplay. It’s beyond absurd (not to mention insulting) that Skarsgård’s career performance lost the Best Supporting Actor statue to Sean Penn’s cartoonish turn in One Battle After Another, but the film did manage to win for Best International Feature Film.

Blu-ray extras include a conversation with Trier; interviews with the four principal performers; and deleted scenes.

Movie: ★★★½

TERROR TRAIN (1980). There was certainly no lack of talent — past or future — on the set of Terror Train. Top-billed Ben Johnson had won an Oscar for his supporting role in The Last Picture Show while cinematographer John Alcott had won his for lensing Barry Lyndon. Makeup designer Michele Burke would later win two Oscars for her contributions to Quest for Fire and Bram Stoker’s Dracula, while debuting director Roger Spottiswoode would go on to helm the crackling political thriller Under Fire and the landmark TV movie about AIDS, And the Band Played On. And finally there was Jamie Lee Curtis, still riding high in the horror field following her 1978 breakthrough in John Carpenter’s Halloween (1980 also saw her starring in Prom Night and reuniting with Carpenter for The Fog). These participants help turn Terror Train into a fun ride for its first hour, as college students holding a masquerade party aboard a chartered train start getting bumped off in gruesome ways by an assailant who always dons the mask of the last victim. Johnson is the conductor trying to prevent any more bloodshed, magician David Copperfield (billed with, naturally enough, “And David Copperfield As The Magician”) is one of the primary suspects, and a young D.D. Winters, better known as pop singer Vanity, appears as one of the co-eds. The train setting is inspired, but the identity of the killer is painfully obvious, stripping the last act of much of its intrigue.

Extras in the 4K UHD + Blu-ray edition consist of a pair of film historian audio commentaries; interviews with Spottiswoode and writer Judith Rascoe; the theatrical trailer; and trailers for other movies on the Kino label.

Movie: ★★½

THE WARRIORS (1979). Director Walter Hill has long been known for directing unpretentious, red-meat fare, and The Warriors is a fine representation of his output. Delegates from various New York City street gangs gather in The Bronx to listen to a speech delivered by the magnetic leader of the most powerful outfit, but all hell breaks loose after he’s fatally shot and the members of the Warriors are falsely fingered for the murder. Determined to make it back to their Coney Island turf, they cautiously tread their way through an urban jungle in which every other gang, including the creepy, bat-wielding Baseball Furies, is out for their blood. Highly controversial in its day — the poster stated that gang members “outnumber the cops five to one. They could run New York City,” and a few gang-related deaths occurred at screenings — this remains a rousing piece of pulp entertainment, and its continued popularity can be seen by the homage paid to it in 2023’s John Wick: Chapter Four. James Remar is especially good as the quick-tempered Warrior Ajax, while David Patrick Kelly as Luther, the psychotic leader of the Rogues, is the one who gets to (repeatedly) utter the classic line, “Warriors … Come out to play-ee-ayyy!”

The 4K + Blu-ray edition contains both the theatrical cut and a 2005 alternate version. Extras include audio commentary by film critic Walter Chaw; an archival making-of featurette; interviews with Hill, film editor Billy Weber, and costume designer Bobbie Mannix; a look at the shooting locations; a piece on the film’s soundtrack; and an image gallery.

Movie: ★★★

FROM SCREEN TO STREAM

JESUS CAMP (2006). Forget Jason and Freddy and Michael Myers — here’s the truly scary Becky Fischer, and, as seen in this Oscar-nominated documentary, she’s a Missouri pastor who ran a summer camp (now long closed thanks to the exposure from this movie) in which children roughly between the ages of 6 and 12 were trained to be soldiers for God. That’d be fine had this been an ordinary Christian organization that practiced Jesus’ messages of peace, love, and tolerance. Instead, it was yet one more example of the insidious and far-right Evangelical movement that has long been helping destroy the fabric of this nation. Scene after scene in this sobering documentary shows young children being brainwashed at every turn by the fanatical adults surrounding them: Kids enjoying the telling of ghost stories are told to cut it out because it doesn’t serve God; parents home-schooling their children sneer at the very notion of fact-based science; and Fischer herself informs her young charges that had that “warlock” Harry Potter been around in the days of the Old Testament, he would have been put to death. Offering the film’s lone voice of sanity is radio talk show host Mike Papantonio, who’s aghast at how these zealots are turning the religion’s saintly sentiments into something ugly and brutal (Fischer discusses everything in terms of war and battles). The most surreal scene finds Fischer bringing out a cardboard standup of George W. Bush for the kids to worship — and one can’t help but note with amusement that it seems no less intelligent than the real thing.

Movie: ★★★

THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA (2004). The final score at the end of this film is Women 3, Men 0, as this adaptation of the Broadway smash draws its strength from the performances of the three principal actresses. The classically trained Emmy Rossum is affecting as Christine, the Phantom’s obsession; Minnie Driver hams it up beautifully as obnoxious opera star La Carlotta; and Miranda Richardson adds quiet authority as Madame Giry, the only person who knows the Phantom’s secrets. Their strong efforts run counter to the performances by Gerard Butler and Patrick Wilson, both unremittingly dull as, respectively, the disfigured Phantom and Christine’s wealthy suitor Raoul. Butler is a particular disappointment — who cares if Broadway’s Michael Crawford was getting along in years, as that’s who everyone wanted to see immortalized on screen. By contrast, Butler’s Phantom isn’t particularly mysterious or menacing; he seems more like a disgruntled opera fan who should be asking for a refund rather than dropping chandeliers on patrons’ heads. Writer-director Joel Schumacher’s previous career as an art director serves him well on this project — his Phantom is a visually resplendent movie, and the colors used in the sets and costumes practically bleed off the screen (this earned an Oscar nomination for Best Art Direction, as well as for Cinematography and Original Song). But ultimately, this is simply a static filmization of the play, with no serious attempt to open up the story and take it out of the realm of the theater.

Movie: ★★

VIDEODROME (1983). A movie that was far ahead of its time, Videodrome stars James Woods as Max Renn, who’s always on the lookout for controversial, cutting-edge material he can air on his underground cable TV channel. Stumbling across a pirated show called Videodrome, he’s mesmerized by the fact that its content — masked folks involved in torture and murder — seems so real; confiding his findings to a radio show host (Deborah Harry) with a penchant for S&M, Max proceeds to learn more about the program, in the process becoming engulfed in a conspiracy that messes with the very fabric of his mind. Writer-director David Cronenberg’s usual themes are all present and accounted for — the melding of man and machine, the allure of sexual perversities, the manner in which our own bodies can betray us without a moment’s notice — yet the movie’s most fascinating element is the uncanny way in which it has predicted the 21st century cycle in infotainment. Predating The Matrix in its exploration of our flesh-and-blood world merging with cyberspace, the plot also touches upon the machinations of a ruthless individual who plans to control the country’s collective outlook via the television set (no, his name isn’t Rupert Murdoch), as well as depicting an era in which audiences have become so desensitized to fictional fare that they find themselves drawn to “reality shows” — the character Brian O’Blivion, who’s only seen on TV monitors, even delivers a prescient monologue that concludes, “Television is reality, and reality is less than television.”

Movie: ★★★