By: Kevin Filipski |
Tuesday March 28, 2006 |
| Older films are arriving on DVD at an astounding rate, sometimes overwhelming current releases (The Star Wars trilogy, anyone?). |
| Older films are arriving on DVD at an astounding rate, sometimes overwhelming current releases (The Star Wars trilogy, anyone?). But are these films really as good as their reputations, and - more important - are companies giving them the special releases they deserve?
Judgment at Nuremburg (1961; MGM) - Stanley Kramer's star-studded "event" was a runner-up for several Oscars; it did win for Maxmilian Schell's tough portrayal of a German lawyer. Spencer Tracy is his usual laconic self as the chief judge at the Nuremburg Trials, but he's overwhelmed by the soupy dressing Kramer ladles onto this oh-so-reverent treatment of important, explosive subject matter. The rest of the actors do well enough, and the 3-hour film moves crisply if a bit cumbersomely. MGM's DVD contains three featurettes about the film and the director, and there's a decent digital transfer, but as usual with MGM catalog titles, it's non-anamorphic. They Shoot Horses, Don't They? (1969; MGM) - Sydney Pollack's masterly drama is one of the best historical movies ever made in this country; it's a no-nonsense, exciting and mature exploration of Americans' obsession with winning, no matter the cost. It's also, coincidentally, Pollack's best film, containing career performances from Gig Young, Michael Sarrazin and - although she's been just as heartrendingly good elsewhere - Jane Fonda. MGM's disc is no-frills, unfortunately: no extras and, most annoyingly, no anamorphic transfer, which robs Philip H. Lathrop's superlative widescreen compositions of their luster. To be sure, the movie looks like it's in gauzy soft focus, not what Pollack and Lathrop intended. Easy Rider (1969; Columbia/TriStar) - Director/star Dennis Hopper's, cowriter/costar Peter Fonda's and writer Terry Southern's seminal paean to nonconformity is the ultimate 60s head trip, and it arrives in a beautifully-designed two-disc set from Columbia/TriStar. In addition to the movie - which looks great, by the way, in a new transfer - there's an entertaining commentary by Hopper, an enlightening hour-long documentary about the movie's making, a bonus CD soundtrack of the flick's classic rock hits and a book about the movie from the British Film Institute's "Classic Films" series. Tess (1980; Columbia/TriStar) - Tess has always been better-known as a love gift to Roman Polanski's murdered wife Sharon Tate than as a visually exquisite adaptation of Thomas Hardy's novel. The 75-minute DVD documentary that explores the film's making doesn't shy away either: Polanski candidly admits that Tate told him she'd love to play Hardy's heroine, and the movie opens with the dedication "To Sharon." Columbia/TriStar's DVD is a keeper: the movie looks splendid, with Geoffrey Unsworth and Ghislain Cloquet's shimmering Oscar-winning cinematography looking as lustrous as ever. Polanski's earnest attempt at filming Hardy's epic novel doesn't entirely succeed, and Nastassja Kinski is too reticent to be truly believable as Tess. But it's an eye-opening look at another side of a director whose specialty has always been brutality and bizarreness. The Fearless Vampire Killers (1966; Warners) - Speaking of brutal and bizarre: Roman Polanski has made his share of dogs like The Tenant and Pirates, and The Fearless Vampire Killers is nearly as bad, the unlikely combination of humor and horror never cohering - it's neither funny nor scary. It is, however, incredibly atmospheric: this is one of Polanski's most visually striking films, and Warners' DVD transfer is stunning. It's worth picking up the disc just to see the Transylvanian trappings (and the ravishing-looking Sharon Tate). It's too bad that the co-writer/director/star didn't supply a real movie. One final bit of trivia: on the box, in the trailer and the 10-minute "making-of" feature, the entire "Dr. Strangelovian" title is given: The Fearless Vampire Killers, or Your Teeth Are in My Neck. But the actual movie's title sequence stops before "or." Murder on the Orient Express (1974; Paramount) - Sidney Lumet has never been known for his light touch, but his handling of this clever Agatha Christie whodunit is a textbook case of a perfect mystery movie: particularly one as cramped as this (it takes place almost entirely in a single car on the fabled title train). Of course, it helped that Lumet had a big name cast, like Lauren Bacall, Ingrid Bergman, John Gielgud, Jacqueline Bissett and Sean Connery, for starters. Best of all, though, is a nearly unrecognizable Albert Finney as detective Hercule Pierot. Hearing his weird way with words (and accents) is a sheer delight. Paramount's DVD includes an informative hour's worth of exclusive documentaries about the making of the movie and a brief overview of Christie's career by her grandson. THX-1138 (1971; Warners) - George Lucas' first film, more curio than keeper, is set in a futuristic society where free will has been expunged. Glacially paced and lethargic to the point of being comatose, THX-1138 is notable only as forerunner to Lucas' later sci-fi mythology in Star Wars (which has also, with the later installments, become as humorless as this movie). Visually, the almost fully white set design dazzles; and aurally, the movie has a memorable mix. Warners' double-DVD set gives THX-1138 more than it deserves: audio commentary from Lucas and Murch; Lucas' original student short film which spawned the feature; a documentary on the film's making; and, most interesting of all, an hour-long doc about American Zoetrope, Francis Coppola's now-defunct production company. I Wanna Hold Your Hand (1978; Universal) - Once upon a time, Robert Zemeckis made scruffy, endearingly small comedies like the laugh-out-loud Used Cars and I Wanna Hold Your Hand, which affectionately looks at the beginnings of Beatlemania by following young Fab Four fanatics from New Jersey who do anything they can to secure tickets for the boys' first appearance on "The Ed Sullivan Show." Zemeckis shows a sure comedic hand and even wrings pathos out of the girls' plight; he's obviously a big fan of the Beatles, as well as movies. Universal's DVD includes insightful commentary by Zemeckis and writing/producing partner, Bob Gale: they fondly remember the minutiae of filmmaking 25 years later, still mustering enthusiasm for a cherished project. Too bad Zemeckis went on to be our most ponderous director: after Forrest Gump, Contact and Castaway, there seems no way back to these nicely unassuming early movies. Betty Blue (1986; Columbia/TriStar) - French director Jean-Jacques Beineix enjoyed a brief 80s vogue: his stylishly emptyheaded Diva was an arthouse hit, and although the follow-up The Moon in the Gutter was roundly trashed, he made a comeback with Betty Blue, his account of the intense relationship between a regular Joe and a loony free spirit. It's negligible in the psychology department, but its relative explicitness - the movie opens with a lengthy lovemaking session, after which our hero narrates, "I'd known Betty for a week" - made it a welcome antidote for his previous poseur films. Columbia/TriStar's DVD is the first American release of Beineix's director's cut: ballooning from two hours to three, Betty Blue hasn't gained in psychological penetration; instead, although more scenes underscore Betty's condition, many more are mere longeurs that only underscore Beineix's artiness, which the DVD transfer shows off to great advantage. But that's a dubious talent; I'd prefer to remember Beineix as the discoverer of the amazing Beatrice Dalle, as Betty. Ed Wood (1994; Buena Vista) - Tim Burton's best film, Ed Wood happily rolls around in the muddiest dregs of filmmaking, showing how even a worthless no-talent who made the world's schlockiest movies can be sympathetic simply because he had directing fever. Of course, the real Ed Wood was a monstrously fucked-up case study, but Burton, writers Scott Alexander and Larry Jaraszewski and star Johnny Depp actually make Ed - God help us - likeable and pitiable, a nobody who never realized how nobody he really was. Buena Vista's DVD finally brings us this glorious comic valentine with its breathtaking B&W photography intact, along with a stunning array of hilariously realistic performances (led by Martin Landau's Oscar-winning Bela Lugosi). Plentiful bonuses include short features on all aspects of the making of the film and a handful of deleted scenes, which add little but are pleasant enough to finally see. |