FILM FRENZY

Leonard Nimoy and William Shatner in Star Trek; Mark Linn-Baker and Bronson Pinchot in Perfect Strangers (Photos: ST, Paramount & CBS; PS, Warner Bros.)

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.)

CRIMSON GOLD (2003). Working from a script by internationally renowned director Abbas Kiarostami, Iranian filmmaker Jafar Panahi (whose most recent stunner, the Academy Award-nominated It Was Just an Accident, placed #2 on my 10 Best of 2025 list) has made a movie that’s remarkably incisive in its examination of the gulf between the haves and the have-nots. What’s startling about this feature (loosely based on a true story) is its Iranian setting, bringing a global perspective to a problem that is often made to feel like it’s the exclusive property of the United States. Hussein (Hossain Emadeddin) is a portly pizza delivery guy who’s barely making ends meet, yet because his job takes him into homes and neighborhoods far above his social standing, he gets to witness firsthand how the other half lives. Smacked at every turn by the excesses of the upper class — and made to feel inferior by snooty jewelry store employees and doltish cops — Hussein eventually decides to commit an act that he hopes will make his life more comfortable. This criminal undertaking — and the fates of all involved — is revealed within the first 10 minutes of the movie; the rest of the time is spent detailing the petty humiliations and daily mundanities that propelled Hussein to make this ill-advised lunge for a piece of the pie. Crimson Gold may seem rather sedate as it unfolds, but its cumulative power will smack viewers with all the force of a rattlesnake to the cheek.

The only Blu-ray extra is a new interview with Panahi. A booklet is also included.

Movie: ★★★½

DANZA MACABRA: THE SPANISH GOTHIC COLLECTION VOLUME FIVE (1964-1985). Launched in 2023, Severin Films’ Danza Macabra series has divided its time between the Gothic cinema of two European countries, each with a rich if often unsung history of spooky chillers featuring (to borrow Severin’s own alliterative promo copy) castles, crypts, catacombs, candelabras, and cobwebbed corridors. Italian Gothic was showcased in Volumes One, Two, and Four, while Spanish Gothic is at the center of Volumes Three and now Five.

Two completely different Francos hover around the edges of Strange Voyage (1964), the oldest and only black-and-white film in the set. On one hand, there’s Federico Franco, the right-wing dictator whose blanket censorship of progressive ideas and ideals in art and literature resulted in daring films like this one to be barely seen. On the other, there’s Jess Franco, the prolific director who’s involved in this project only as an actor. He has a supporting role as Venancio Vidal, one of a trio of siblings living in a small rural town. The simpleminded Venancio and his equally slow-witted sister Paquita (Rafaela Aparicio) live in constant fear of the other sister, the domineering and casually cruel Ignacia (Tota Alba). Meanwhile, the older members of the town spend their time tsk-tsking the members of the younger generation, all of whom appreciate fast music and most of whom hope to escape this dreary burg. These plot elements eventually come together in what proves to be an atmospheric and unpredictable gem involving money, murder, and large vats of wine.

Las Melancólicas (The Sad Women) was released in Spain in 1971 but didn’t reach the U.S. until 1974 — surely its stateside title of Exorcism’s Daughter was in no way meant to stir moviegoer memories of a certain 1973 blockbuster. Only during the closing act of the film does it in any way justify that name, and even then it’s quite the stretch. It also played stateside under the moniker House of Insane Women, which is a much more accurate title than the one invoking Pazuzu. The story is set in a grimy insane asylum populated exclusively by female inmates, a handful of nuns, and one loutish attendant (a good performance by Francisco Rabal) who smacks around some prisoners and tries to sleep with others. Into this institution walks Rafael Alba (Espartaco Santoni), a young doctor sporting newfangled ideas. (Rafael Alba, the film’s writer-director, amusingly named the character after himself.) Alba is a modern man of science, and he’s particularly keen on using his training to uncover the childhood trauma that’s clearly responsible for the incarceration of one of the inmates (Analía Gadé). Exorcism’s Daughter is more a slow-burn psychological thriller than a horror flick, and there are some notable differences between the Spanish-language and English-dubbed versions (most notably an orgy sequence added for U.S. consumers).

As a title, The Dracula Saga (1973) sounds lofty and important, the type best bestowed on a two-night television event (e.g. Frankenstein: The True Story). Instead, it’s the marquee filler for a vampire flick that manages to incorporate a freaky, one-eyed kid with big fuzzy hands that he uses to fatally pulverize women. What, pray tell, does such a grotesquerie have to do with Bram Stoker’s baby? It’s just one of the oddities on tap in this horror yarn that gets bonus points for being offbeat but also racks up the demerits for an increasingly tacky presentation. It begins with the pregnant Berta (Tina Sáinz) and her dullard of a husband Hans (Tony Isbert) journeying to the old country to pay a visit to her relatives. That would be Dracula (Narciso Ibáñez Menta) and his kinfolk, all eager to see Berta after so many years since they need a newborn male to carry on the family tradition of necking. Berta and Hans have no idea that the Dracs are bloodsucking creatures of the night, but there’s a reason the locals keep their distance from the creepy castle. The plot developments don’t really make sense and questions abound — for instance, is the baby already a vampire even though neither parent is, or does it just carry a Drac gene that will eventually pop out like fangs? — but the storyline is an interesting one and … did I mention the freaky, one-eyed kid?

The Turn of the Screw (1985) is one of over a dozen adaptations of the Henry James novella, and while no version will ever top Jack Clayton’s 1961 classic The Innocents, this one is a solid interpretation, one that finds ace writer-director Eloy de la Iglesia (The Cannibal Man, El Pico) adding his own shadings to the proceedings. The key difference is that the central she has become a he — instead of a governess, it’s a seminary dropout named Roberto (Pedro Mari Sánchez) who accepts the assignment to look after two orphaned siblings (Asier Hernández and Cristina Goyanes) on their uninterested uncle’s large estate. Besides the children, the housekeeper (Queta Claver) is the only other person in the mansion, but Roberto soon comes to believe that the property is being haunted by the ghosts of two disreputable former servants. Until it loses its stride during the protracted final act, this is a worthy adaptation that subjugates more traditional readings in order to make the case for a strong psychosexual slant. 

This Blu-ray collection contains both the Spanish and American versions of Exorcism’s Daughter. Set extras consist of audio commentaries on all four films, including author Matt Rogerson (The Vatican Versus Horror Movies) on the U.S. version of Exorcism’s Daughter and The Turn of the Screw; a discussion of all four films by Ángel Sala, Head of Programming at the Sitges Film Festival; video essays on all four movies; an interview with Helena de Llanos, granddaughter of Strange Voyage director Fernando Fernán Gómez; a discussion of Profilmes, the Spanish production company behind several horror flicks (including The Dracula Saga); interviews with The Turn of the Screw co-stars Hernández and Goyanes; and trailers for all four pictures.

Strange Voyage: ★★★½

Exorcism’s Daughter: ★★★

The Dracula Saga: ★★½

The Turn of the Screw: ★★★

MACARTHUR (1977). It’s pretty much impossible to find a review — vintage or contemporary — of MacArthur that doesn’t compare it to Patton. It’s a logical leap, as each centers on a renowned World War II officer known for his oversized personality, controversial actions, and military brilliance. But 1970’s Patton was a critical and commercial smash that won seven Academy Awards (including Best Picture); conversely, MacArthur earned modest reviews to go along with its modest box office, and, except for a Golden Globe nomination for Best Actor (Drama) for Gregory Peck, it was completely shut out during awards season. On its own terms, MacArthur isn’t a bad film, but it admittedly suffers in comparison to the more robust and more entertaining Patton. Aside from the framing sequences set in 1962, when General Douglas MacArthur delivered his farewell speech at West Point, the film’s activities begin in 1942, shortly before he was ordered by President Franklin D. Roosevelt (Dan O’Herlihy) to leave the Philippines (leading to his famous declaration that “I shall return”), and end in 1952, just after President Harry S. Truman (Ed Flanders) relieved him of command due to his actions during the Korean War. While director Joseph Sargent had been at the helm of 1974’s four-star thriller The Taking of Pelham One Two Three, most of his work before and after was overwhelmingly for television, which is probably one of the reasons why this often feels like a small-scale made-for-TV movie. The other reason is because Universal at the last minute decided that instead of shooting on location, it would save beaucoup bucks by filming the entire picture in California, primarily on studio backlots. While Peck had fun playing the role, he confessed that the budget cuts made the film one of the biggest disappointments of his career.

Extras in the 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray edition include film historian audio commentary; the theatrical trailer; and radio spots.

Movie: ★★½

MINIONS & MONSTERS (2026). Hollywood history gets taken for a raucous turn in Minions & Monsters, an animated effort that’s seemingly made as much for cineasts as for the wee ones. The movie relates the previously untold story of how the Minions were among those helping to get the film industry off the ground, as they became screen superstars during the silent cinema era. (Cue the Minions taking over classic scenes from Harold Lloyd’s Safety Last, Buster Keaton’s Steamboat Bill, Jr., and even Georges Méliès’ A Trip to the Moon over in France.) Alas, the advent of sound destroys their careers due to their nonsensical gibberish — watching a Minion drop the Citizen Kane snow globe and whisper, “Oh, poop” instead of “Rosebud” doesn’t provide quite the same kick — and they immediately attempt to mount a comeback by making a monster movie … with a real monster. As always, director Pierre Coffin provides the voices for all the Minions; others heard but not seen include Jesse Eisenberg as an extra-terrestrial robot named Dort (and obviously inspired by Gort from The Day the Earth Stood Still), Christoph Waltz as a director who encourages the Minions, Jeff Bridges as sibling studio heads, Zoey Deutch as a suffragette, Allison Janney as a tour guide, and George Lucas in an amusing cameo. Minions & Monsters offers several hearty laughs, particularly when it’s tweaking the movie business, but some sections tend to drag — there’s simply too much Dort and too much of a diminutive critter named Goomi (Trey Parker). The showcase monster, a blob of slime filled with eyeballs, is an impressive achievement, although it’s likely to provide nightmare fuel for the smallest viewers.

Blu-ray extras include a making-of featurette; a piece on the film’s voice actors; a lesson on how to draw nine of the principal characters; and a step-by-step guide on how to make your very own Irene Blob Monster Slime at home.

Movie: ★★½

PERFECT STRANGERS: THE COMPLETE SERIES (1986-1993). Unless one counts Siskel & Ebert’s weekly review show and a bazillion music videos on the then-relatively-new MTV, I didn’t watch much TV during my college stint (1984-1988) — no surprise, since I was busy trying to catch every theatrical release during that four-year stretch (and, oh yeah, attending classes and parties). As for prime-time television, fuggedaboutdit. The only shows I recall watching weekly were Beauty and the Beast (reviewed last week here) and, perhaps oddly, Perfect Strangers. Mark Linn-Baker was a rising actor who earned good notices as straight man opposite an Oscar-nominated Peter O’Toole in 1982’s My Favorite Year while Bronson Pinchot was known for stealing his solitary scene as art gallery employee Serge in 1984’s Beverly Hills Cop. I expect it was the “odd couple” dynamic that caught my eye, and the show’s sustained success was exclusively due to the chemistry between the two stars. Larry Appleton (Linn-Baker) is an insecure and introverted guy who moves to Chicago with the hopes of becoming a professional photographer. Into his life lands Balki Bartokomous (Pinchot), a shepherd in his Mediterranean homeland of Mypos who has now come to America to live with his distant cousin Larry. The culture clashes, Balki’s perpetual good cheer and unique cadence (I still employ “Don’t be ridiculous!” when possible), and Larry’s waffling nature and neuroses provide the bulk of the humor, while neighbors Jennifer (Melanie Wilson) and Mary Anne (Rebeca Arthur) prove to be surprisingly compatible partners for the cousins. Perfect Strangers was never a ratings giant — its highest Nielsen placement was #13 for the first season, with the majority in the 30s — but even when the show got progressively weaker in later years, it still pleased enough viewers to last eight seasons.

The Blu-ray box set contains all eight seasons and 150 episodes. There are no extras.

Series: ★★★

RICCO THE MEAN MACHINE (1973). Stateside Blu-ray and DVD covers (past and present) read Ricco the Mean Machine. Various copies of the film itself open with simply Ricco and others with Rico. The Italian trailer carries an unwieldy title that translates as Some Guy With a Strange Face Is Looking For You to Kill You; not to be outdone, Colombia opted for Revenge Is a Naked Woman. The original American title back in 1973 was The Cauldron of Death, and a re-release turned it into Heavy Dues. And on VHS, it debuted under the title Gangland. Then again, ample name-swapping was par for the course for this sort of Eurotrash exploitation cheapie with international financing and an American actor whose presence allowed it to play stateside during the glorious grindhouse era known as the 1970s. Vintage promo copy pretty much alerted viewers of the gruesome high points they could expect during the film — “Acid bath baptisms … rifle-butt dentistry … switchblade circumcision … .45 caliber brain surgery …” — as well as descriptions of the T&A practitioners: “drop-dead gorgeous” Malisa Longo and “beautiful” Barbara Bouchet. As for the rest, it’s standard revenge-flick fare, with Christopher Mitchum (Robert’s son) out to avenge the death of his father by taking down the powerful crime boss Don Avito. Don Avito, incidentally, is played by five-time Oscar nominee Arthur Kennedy (Peyton Place, Some Came Running), making this yet one more example of a great performer from Hollywood’s golden age winding down a career in desultory fashion (see also Bette Davis in Wicked Stepmother, Veronica Lake in Flesh Feast, etc. etc. etc). As for the wooden Mitchum, he’s more wimp than mean machine, and his Ricco’s a far cry from the tough-guy image projected by his way-cool pop.

DVD extras include an archival interview with Mitchum; a new interview with Longo; and a video essay.

Movie: ★½

STAR TREK: THE COMPLETE SERIES (1966-1969). Lucille Ball can be credited with not one but two of the most beloved, enduring, and influential series in television history. Of course, there was her landmark sitcom I Love Lucy, but there was also Star Trek. Yes, it was the brainchild of Gene Roddenberry, but it was Ball who pushed the suits at Desilu and at NBC to take a chance on the show — executives wanted to cancel it even before it premiered, but she and Desilu Production VP Herbert Solow held firm through two pilots and the series launch. Naturally, no one, not even the show-biz savvy Lucy, could have predicted that the series, which struggled in the ratings for all three of its seasons, would launch an enormous franchise that’s still seeing new product being popped out 60 years later. There’s really not much to say about the show that hasn’t been repeated ad nauseum — who out there doesn’t know about the voyages of the starship Enterprise, boldly exploring strange new worlds in that final frontier known as space? Who doesn’t know about the iconic characters aboard that vessel, an outfit that includes Captain James T. Kirk (William Shatner), Science Officer Spock (Leonard Nimoy), and (my favorite character) Chief Medical Officer Leonard McCoy (DeForest Kelley)? On the trivia front, it fared better with Emmy voters than with viewers, nabbing 13 nominations (including two for Outstanding Dramatic Series, losing both to Mission: Impossible, and three for Nimoy for Best Supporting Actor in a Drama Series) although winning zero. And here’s one amusing tidbit: Cashing in on their celebrity, Nimoy released five albums over a four-year period (the first called Leonard Nimoy Presents Mr. Spock’s Music From Outer Space) while Shatner released only one during this period (1968’s The Transformed Man), but it’s one that has occasionally turned up on lists of the worst albums of all time.

The new 60th anniversary Blu-ray set contains all 79 episodes, but be aware that the discs are the exact same ones previously released in 2009 and 2016. The numerous extras include the original pilot episode “The Cage,” starring Jeffrey Hunter and Nimoy; Starfleet Access (key personnel offering in-depth running commentary on the show and select episodes); a trivia track; interviews with Shatner, Nimoy, James Doohan (Scotty), Nichelle Nichols (Uhura), George Takei (Sulu), and Walter Koenig (Chekov); a discussion of favorite episodes by cast and crew members; rare behind-the-scenes footage; a featurette on Trek memorabilia; and the original TV trailers for all the episodes. There’s also the option of watching all 79 episodes either with the original visual effects or with enhanced ones. Additionally, the episode “The Trouble With Tribbles” receives extra-special treatment, including audio commentary by its writer, David Gerrold; a piece on the genesis of the episode; a Tribble-related episode from Star Trek: The Animated Series; and a Tribble-related episode from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.

Series: ★★★½

THE WAR WAGON (1967). The copy on the back of the case for The War Wagon states that the picture casts John Wayne “in a rare anti-hero role.” Perhaps the copywriter took his cue from Roger Ebert, who in his archival review had opined that Wayne “plays a bad guy for just about the first time in his career.” Wayne portrays Taw Jackson, a rancher framed for a crime he didn’t commit and sent to prison — the bigwig behind the scheme is crooked businessman Frank Pierce (Bruce Cabot), who further steals Taw’s land and the gold that rests upon it. So how exactly is Wayne’s Taw Jackson the villain? (I would maintain that his Thomas Dunson in Howard Hawks’ 1948 Red River is far more deserving of being labeled a bad guy, or at least an anti-hero.) On the contrary, this is a typical John Wayne role, and that’s a good thing, as the actor was generally best when playing a larger-than-life hero with quick fists, a testy temper, and a sly wit. Taw, fresh out of jail, decides that the proper course of action is to steal back from Pierce — namely, by swiping a gold shipment straight from his impenetrable stagecoach, one so imposing (it has a Gatling gun) that it’s called The War Wagon. Pierce hires Taw’s frenemy Lomax (Kirk Douglas) to kill him — Lomax, however, decides it would be more lucrative to rob The War Wagon alongside Taw and his team, a mangy bunch consisting of a cantankerous old man (Keenan Wynn), a drunken explosives expert (Robert Walker Jr.), and a hard-luck Native American named Levi Walking Bear (musical star Howard Keel!). While his classic Westerns were behind him, Wayne was still making enjoyable oaters in the 1960s and ‘70s — this one falls in the middle of the pack, with the antics of Wayne and Douglas more enjoyable to watch than the humdrum storyline.

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray edition include a pair of film historian audio commentaries and the theatrical trailer.

Movie: ★★½

WINDTALKERS (2002). Here’s a film which brings up a fascinating footnote in American history and then largely ignores it in favor of spinning an overly familiar action tale that won’t impress anyone who’s caught, say, The Sands of Iwo Jima or The Naked and the Dead on late-night Turner. Nicolas Cage is all brooding boredom as Joe Enders, a psychologically tortured Marine ever since all the men under his command were killed during a recent Pacific battle. His latest mission pairs him with Ben Yahzee (Adam Beach), a Navajo whose language has been adopted by the U.S. military as the foundation for a code that the Japanese have proven unable to crack. Enders’ mission is to protect the code, not the man, meaning that Yahzee’s life is expendable should it appear that he’s about to fall into enemy hands. There’s a terrific movie buried somewhere in Windtalkers, but director John Woo and his scripters ignore it in favor of spitting out yet another stale “war is hell” bombardment of the senses, with redundant action sequences, a white savior as the leading man, and character types that have long worn out their welcome (most notably the “woman left behind,” played by Frances O’Connor in an embarrassingly unwieldy role).

Eight years ago, the MVD Rewind Collection released Windtalkers in a packed edition that contained both the 134-minute theatrical version and the 153-minute Director’s Cut as well as three audio commentaries, deleted scenes, behind-the-scenes featurettes, and other assorted extras. Fans of the film might want to hunt that edition down, as this new MVD offering provides only the theatrical cut and absolutely nothing else.

Movie: ★★

FROM SCREEN TO STREAM

ARACHNOPHOBIA (1990). With the blessing of Steven Spielberg — he served as executive producer, backed his longtime producer Frank Marshall in his directorial debut, and released the film through his Amblin Entertainment company — Arachnophobia was expected to be one of the major box office behemoths during the summer of 1990. While the picture was a respectable performer ($53 million domestic), it didn’t take off quite as expected. The reasons were varied — among them, brutal competition from the likes of Ghost, Die Hard 2, and Presumed Innocent, as well as the limited appeal of spiders as screen villains — but I like to think it was primarily because of the studio’s major push to introduce a ridiculous new word (“Thrill-omedy!”) to the cinematic language. Moving beyond this daft failure, what’s on screen is fairly engaging, with Jeff Daniels as a small-town doctor who’s forced to lead the charge against deadly eight-legged freaks that hail from the wilds of Venezuela. John Goodman turns up as an exterminator with a tendency to over-enunciate his words — he’s mildly amusing, though the script never allows the character to truly shine. Those with an aversion to creepy-crawlies will be suitably creeped out by the film, although even they would have to agree that the climactic skirmish in the cellar is more silly than scary.

Movie: ★★½

KNOWING (2009). Sober in its intentions but laughable in its execution, Knowing begins promisingly, as a letter written by a little girl in 1959 finds itself, 50 years later, in the hands of John Koestler (Nicolas Cage), a widowed MIT professor raising his son Caleb (Chandler Canterbury) by himself. Koestler soon figures out that the piece of paper, on which the child scrawled nothing but numbers, foretold all of the major disasters of the past several decades — well, all the disasters that resulted in deaths, as it appears that Atari’s E.T. game, Battlefield Earth, and the 2000 presidential election were not included. The problem is that three of the prophesied disasters have yet to occur, leaving Koestler in the unenviable position of trying to figure out how to prevent large-scale tragedies. Meanwhile, a group of shadowy figures spend their time trailing Caleb; they’re meant to appear menacing, but that’s hard to accomplish when they basically all look like Sting impersonators. Knowing was directed by Gods of Egypt’s Alex Proyas, although it feels like the sort of poorly defined spiritual salve that M. Night Shyamalan used to concoct in between preening sessions in front of the mirror. Early discussions regarding destiny versus randomness soon get sidestepped for one CGI set-piece after another, most of them hampered by mediocre effects work. Eventually, Knowing only elicits misplaced chuckles, as awkward acting, lulls in logic, and a cameo appearance by The Fountain‘s majestic tree make this a movie not worth knowing about, let alone watching.

Movie: ★½

THE LONG VOYAGE HOME (1940) / THEY WERE EXPENDABLE (1945) / CHISUM (1970) / MCQ (1974). Four more with John Wayne, two made in the decade following his 1939 Stagecoach breakthrough and two made in the decade in which he passed away (in 1979).

Director John Ford was renowned for using the same actors over and over again — indeed, one of the pleasures of his pictures is playing spot-the-regular. The Long Voyage Home, an episodic adaptation of four Eugene O’Neill one-act plays, registers as such an ensemble piece that, until the final story chunk, Wayne frequently disappears from the screen altogether. This moody drama, atmospherically shot by Gregg Toland (Citizen Kane), centers on the lives of the seamen aboard a rusty freighter, with Wayne cast as a sweet-natured Swede and Thomas Mitchell (who had won the Best Supporting Actor Oscar the previous year for Ford’s Stagecoach) and Barry Fitzgerald among those playing more rambunctious characters. The film earned six Oscar nominations, including Best Picture, Screenplay (Dudley Nichols), and Cinematography, although Ford won the Best Director award for another 1940 release, The Grapes of Wrath.

As the opening credits reveal, practically all of the principal crew members involved with They Were Expendable (including director John Ford but with the exception of chicken hawk Wayne) had served in the U.S. military, yet the movie isn’t the simplistic piece of propaganda one might have reasonably expected. By focusing on the early days of America’s involvement in World War II, when victory was anything but assured, They Were Expendable moves along curiously and cautiously, prideful of the crews of the PT boats featured in the film but also aware that each victory was achieved at a great cost and that sacrifices would have to continue to be made as the war trudged along. Top-billed Robert Montgomery (excellent) plays the levelheaded commander of the PT forces, with Wayne adding bluster as his right-hand man and Donna Reed providing warmth as a nurse who falls for Wayne’s character.

The Western was still a reliable moneymaker in 1970, as witnessed by such efforts as Arthur Penn’s magnificent Little Big Man, A Man Called Horse, and no less than two from Wayne, Rio Lobo (reviewed here) and Chisum. In the latter, he stars as the real-life John Chisum, a cattle baron forced to defend his territory against a corrupt landowner (Forrest Tucker, a long way from his comedic turn on TV’s F Troop). Aiding Chisum in this historic battle (known as the Lincoln County War) are a young gun nicknamed Billy the Kid (Geoffrey Deuel) and respected lawman Pat Garrett (Glenn Corbett); batting for the opposition is the vicious gun-for-hire Dan Nodeen (Christopher George, a long way from his heroic turn on TV’s The Rat Patrol). This is one of the better efforts from Wayne’s post-True Grit period, with a sizable number of interesting characters, some exciting (if historically shaky) plot developments, and the star squarely in his element.

While it’s true that Frank Sinatra was the first choice to play the titular character made famous by Clint Eastwood in Dirty Harry — and while it’s true that a number of other actors turned down the part, including Paul Newman and Steve McQueen — it’s more a rumor than cold, hard fact that Wayne was also offered the role and passed on it. At any rate, the Duke played his own version of Inspector Harry Callahan in McQ, the first of two times he played a contemporary cop duking (sorry) it out with lowlife criminals. No better or worse than his subsequent law’n’order flick, 1975’s Brannigan (the one in which he jets off to London to nab a bad guy), this finds the actor cast as a veteran detective who investigates the murder of his partner and discovers that the rotten apples might be located in his own department. Agreeable if stridently unexceptional, McQ does allow the right-wing Wayne to both belt a hippie radical and make a crack about women’s lib.

The Long Voyage Home: ★★★

They Were Expendable: ★★★½

Chisum: ★★★

McQ: ★★½

SPEED SISTERS (2015). Director Amber Fares’ eye-opening documentary focuses on five unique individuals who comprised the only all-female race car driving team in the Middle East. The notion of an all-woman racing team would be news anywhere in the world, but in that section of the globe — Palestine, to be specific — it’s particularly astonishing. Sadly, the team, which came together in 2009, was disbanded in 2018, making this film an even more important historical document. Speed Sisters is the type of nonfiction feature that challenges perceptions at a fast and furious clip, showing how these Palestinian women were by and large supported and celebrated by the men surrounding them in this patriarchal society. Indeed, many of the conflicts were between the women themselves — this was especially true of the rivalry between the smart Marah, generally recognized as the best of the drivers, and the savvy Betty, whose camera-friendly beauty snags her all the TV and magazine coverage. The most dangerous challenges, of course, came from the eternal Israeli-Palestinian conflict, and one terrifying sequence shows how Betty got severely injured by a trigger-happy Israeli soldier. All five women are a joy to follow — team leader Maysoon especially impressed me with her achievements and common sense — but I was especially moved by the scenes involving Marah’s father. His love for — and pride in — his daughter is enormously touching, and it demonstrates that even a single seed of feminism can take root in the most unlikely of places.

Movie: ★★★