DVD of the Week: Badlands: Criterion Collection

Badlands (1973) was an auspicious debut from Terrence Malick. Based loosely on the real-life killing spree of Charles Starkweather and his girlfriend Caril Ann Fugate in 1958, Malick made his film independently and for little money. The end result is a doomed lovers on the run road movie that juxtaposes the almost fairy tale voiceover narration by Holly (Sissy Spacek) with the sociopathic actions of her boyfriend Kit (Martin Sheen). The film would also demonstrate Malick’s uncanny ability to capture the beauty of rural landscapes and contrast them with the violent impulses of its protagonist.

Kit works as a trashman in a sleepy small-town in South Dakota. One day, after work he meets Holly on the front lawn of her house. It is one of the more unusual courtships as we don’t see too many displays of affection between them or declarations of love, but mostly because Holly tells us so in her narration. They gradually fall in love much to the chagrin of her strict father (Warren Oates) who doesn’t approve of Kit. After the two men have a confrontation, Kit and Holly go on the run.

Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek, early on in their respective careers, deliver impressive performances. On the surface, Kit seems like a nice enough guy, but Sheen is able to turn this off on a dime to show the dispassionate killer that lurks under the James Dean good looks. It would be easy to dislike Kit, based on all the bad things he does, but it is Sheen’s natural charisma that makes the character so interesting to watch. Initially, Spacek plays Holly as something of an innocent, but she explains in her voiceovers that she had plenty of opportunities to leave or turn Kit in. There is a certain naiveté about Holly and she sees the older Kit as someone wiser in the ways of the world then herself.

Kit and Holly’s escape into the wilderness would mark the beginning of Malick’s preoccupation with nature. He is fascinated by the beauty of it and the wonder it represents, often juxtaposing the environment with the ugliness of human nature as he does in Badlands with Kit’s casual disregard for human life. Malick manages to de-glamorize what could have been a lurid tale by showing Kit and Holly enduring significant stretches of doing every day things or nothing at all. It is like the moments of violence punctuate the otherwise banality of their lives. Malick does a nice job of making the most of his meager budget, filming on location to give Badlands a more expansive feel.

Badlands has become an influential film, inspiring countless like-minded efforts. It would also foreshadow Malick’s subsequent film Days of Heaven (1978), which examines forbidden love with a rural landscape as its backdrop. It was an excellent start to an illustrious career of one of the most unique filmmakers to come out of America.

Special Features:

“Making Badlands” is a 42-minute retrospective documentary featuring actors Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek and production designer Jack Fisk. All three share their initial impressions of Malick. Sheen and Spacek spent weeks rehearsing and improvising little scenes without seeing a script! The two actors recall how much it meant to them at the time to be starring in a film so early in their careers. Fisk talks about how the characters affect the sets he designs and vice versa. This is an excellent look at how the film came together.

There is an interview with producer Edward Pressman. Influences by the French New Wave, he wanted to work with filmmakers interested in making artistic endeavors and found it with Malick. He talks about the challenges of funding Badlands and how much he learned from the experience so early in his career.

Also included is an interview with editor Billy Weber. He touches upon Malick’s working methods and the challenge of editing the film because of his inexperience at the time. He claims that the use of voiceover in Francois Truffaut’s The Wild Child (1970) influenced Malick’s use of it in Badlands.

There is a 1993 episode of the television series American Justice that focused on Charles Starkweather, a teen rebel who ran off with his girlfriend for nine days and killed ten people during that time. This extra provides a nice overview of the people that inspired the main characters in Badlands.

Finally, there is a theatrical trailer.

MGM MOD DVD of the Week: Busting

The 1970s were a great decade for gritty buddy cop movies with the likes of The French Connection (1971) and Hickey & Boggs (1972). 1974 was a particularly good year with The Super Cops (1974), Freebie and the Bean (1974) and the largely forgotten Busting (1974), which presented the seedy underbelly of Los Angeles through the eyes of two vice cops and blended comedy with dynamic action sequences.


In the film’s opening sequence, Michael Keneely (Elliott Gould) and Patrick Farrel (Robert Blake) bust a high-end hooker named Jackie Faraday. Keneely is the smirking smartass while Farrel is the tough guy. These guys are a tad unorthodox as evident by the way a routine undercover assignment in a gay bar erupts into chaos when one guy (Antonio Fargas) gets too fresh with Keneely. The Faraday bust seems like a pretty open and shut case until their boss tells them that she got released thanks to a phone call from someone with juice.

Something about the hooker case doesn’t sit well with Keneely and when he checks out Faraday’s client book after it’s been entered into evidence he notices it’s missing all the pages with her clients. Naturally, the case is dismissed for lack of evidence and the two vice cops know something is rotten. They decide to pursue it further by digging deeper despite the opposition that mounts, including smug local crime boss Carl Rizzo (Allen Garfield).

Elliott Gould and Robert Blake make an intriguing team with their contrasting acting styles. During the ‘70s, Gould epitomized disheveled cool and continues that look with the bushy mustache, unkempt hair and rumpled attire that he sported in Robert Altman’s M*A*S*H (1970). He adopts a laidback attitude and is always ready with a joke. Much like his take on Philip Marlowe in Altman’s The Long Goodbye (1973), Gould’s cop treats everything as a joke on the surface but underneath he cares about doing his job, especially when it comes to the corruption he and Farrel uncover. In contrast, Blake, with his tight t-shirts and muscular build, is all intensity and no bullshit attitude. They play well off each other and adopt a shorthand that makes them believable as long-time partners. They have a nice scene together in an empty bathroom where their characters reassess what they’re doing and if they should continue to pursue a case where the odds are clearly stacked against them.

Journeyman cinematographer/director Peter Hyams has had a checkered career with the unnecessary sequel 2010 (1984) and generic thrillers like The Presidio (1988) littering his filmography but Busting may be his best film and oddly influential. When it came to crank out cop shows on television, producer Aaron Spelling used Hyams’ film as a template, even lifting several sequences out of Busting and using them in Starsky and Hutch. Hell, Hutch even wears the same kind of varsity jacket that Gould’s character sports in the film. Hyams, who also wrote the screenplay, clearly did his homework as the film has a scuzzy authenticity that is almost tangible. Apparently, he did a lot of research, interviewing hookers, pimps and cops in order to make sure he got everything right.

Hyams does an excellent job juggling the shifting tones throughout, bouncing back and forth between comedy and drama. He adopts long takes during the action sequences that are very effective and come across as refreshing in this day and age where action films are so heavily edited. For example, there is a sequence early on where Keneely and Farrel chase three crooks through an apartment building, on the street and engage in a tense gun battle in a crowded farmer’s market that is comprised of a series of uninterrupted long takes. Unlike William Friedkin’s edgy hand-held camerawork in The French Connection, Hyams employs smooth, gliding tracking shots and yet still manages to convey an urgency and excitement during the action sequences. Hyams is one of those Hollywood filmmakers able to adapt to prevailing trends. With Busting, he made a gritty ‘70s buddy cop film and then more than 10 years later made the kind of buddy cop film that was popular in the 1980s with Running Scared (1986).

Special Features:

Theatrical trailer.

MGM MOD DVD of the Week: Zone Troopers

As the commercial and critical failure of Cowboys & Aliens (2010) demonstrated, it is difficult to successfully blend two disparate genres. You need to have just the right mix – something that the mega-budget studio film didn’t get right. Maybe they should have watched Zone Troopers (1985), a film that got it right and with a lot less money. God bless, B-movie mogul Charles Band for taking a chance on this oddball cinematic mash-up.


Somewhere in Italy circa 1944, a squad of American soldiers is waiting for other squads to show when they’re ambushed by Nazi soldiers. Despite being outnumbered, Sergeant Stone (Tim Thomerson) and his men manage to kill them all leaving only the no-nonsense Stone, eager beaver Joey Verona (Timothy Van Patten), the burly Mittens (Art La Fleur), and war correspondent Charlie Dolan (Biff Manard). They escape into the woods behind enemy lines only to find out that both their radio and compass don’t work. While out hunting for food, Dolan and Mittens stumble across a Nazi camp. Stone and Verona go looking for them and discover a crashed alien spacecraft. From this point on, Zone Troopers is an engaging mash-up of war movie and science fiction tale.

The casting of genre veterans Tim Thomerson (Trancers) and Art La Fleur (Air America) is spot on as they both look like they literally stepped out of a vintage World War II film. Thomerson, in particular, is excellent as the two-fisted sergeant with a reputation for being unkillable. The way he acts and carries himself would’ve made ideal casting for an adaptation of Nick Fury and the Howling Commandoes back in the 1980’s when this film was made. It’s great to see character actor La Fleur get a meaty role playing the amusing nicknamed Mittens and it’s a shame that they didn’t get to reprise their roles in a sequel.

The screenplay by Danny Bilson and Paul De Meo does a good job of replicating the classic World War II movie, right down to the authentic-sounding period dialogue while seamlessly mixing in elements of the 1950’s space alien film. It makes sense that they would go on to adapt The Rocketeer, Dave Stevens’ comic book homage to 1930’s serial adventures, into a film.

The opening gun battle sets the right tone of a vintage World War II B-movie by way of Sam Fuller complete with pulpy period dialogue and a gruff squad leader that almost makes one forget about the cheap production values that, rather than detract from the enjoyment of the film, give it plenty of scrappy charm. As the film progresses, the production values improve in spots, like when Stone and Verona search inside the giant spacecraft.

For a low-budget B-movie, Zone Troopers is refreshingly ambitious with its intentions to blend science fiction with the war movie. What makes it work so well is that the filmmakers are obviously taking it seriously as opposed to poking fun at both genres. They make sure that the actors play it straight as well. That’s not to say the film isn’t without its humorous moments but they are used sparingly. Zone Troopers is an entertaining film that celebrates its pulpy roots.

Special Features:

Theatrical trailer.

DVD of the Week: Godzilla: Criterion Collection

Godzilla is more than just some guy in a cheesy rubber suit terrorizing badly dubbed Japanese actors and stomping miniature cities. The original film, made in 1954, is actually a tragedy of epic proportions, a potent warning of an escalating nuclear arms race and messing with atomic power. Of course, Godzilla mainly works as an entertaining monster movie, too.


When a 7,500 ton freighter is mysteriously lost in the South Seas off Japan, the authorities are baffled. Soon afterwards, a fishing boat is destroyed in the same manner: from an underwater explosion. It is a mine? An underwater volcano? There are only a few survivors and one of them claims to have seen a creature in the water. Some elderly citizens immediately claim that it was Godzilla, a creature that lives in the sea and occasionally surfaces to feed on mankind when food in the ocean is scarce.

Sure enough, late one stormy night, something destroys several houses in a village in such a way that it could not have been the result of natural causes, like a hurricane. Director Ishiro Honda wisely prolongs the first actual appearance of Godzilla for 21 minutes, cleverly employing traditional horror film techniques to create tension and build anticipation. We never actually see the monster in the initial attacks – just a hint of him but nevertheless his presence looms large, much like with King Kong (1933). When we finally do catch a good glimpse of the creature, it is little more than a head but it is a fantastic shot that effectively establishes his massive scale and is more than enough to send the locals running for their lives.

The country’s leading scientist Professor Yamane (Takashi Shimura) theorizes that Godzilla is the result of atomic testing, a mutation that exists to punish his country for dabbling in the dangerous waters of atomic energy and radiation. Naturally, the Japanese government wants to destroy Godzilla but Yamane respects the beast and wants to study it. Yamane represents a sobering humanistic voice that mirrored Honda’s own beliefs and acts as a sharp contrast to the government’s foolhardy shoot first, ask questions later attitude.

Look past the guy in the rubber suit and the obvious miniatures and you’ve got atmospheric black and white cinematography by Masao Tamai that is haunting, especially the night scenes with an almost silhouetted Godzilla destroying Tokyo that is a devastating site to behold.

Godzilla was born from the ashes of A-bomb attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki – the fallout of which Honda witnessed first hand. In fact, the film’s opening scene, where a freighter is destroyed by an explosion from under the water, was a reference to an incident in which a tuna trawler got too close to an H-bomb test courtesy of the United States and its crew became sick with radiation poisoning. With this knowledge, it’s hard not to see Godzilla’s swath of destruction through urban Japan as a metaphor for the A-bomb and a powerful critique of the dangers of atomic radiation. This is what elevates Godzilla above countless other monster movies from the 1950’s and has inspired countless sequels that have transformed the giant monster into a pop culture icon. The Japanese version is the way this film was meant to be seen with all of the stark footage of the dead, maimed and shell-shocked and numerous the A-bomb references – something that is missing from subsequent sequels that have turned into admittedly entertaining battle royales.

Special Features:

A few years ago, Classic Media released an excellent special edition of Godzilla with an unimpressive transfer and a decent collection of supplemental material, none of which has been carried over to the Criterion Collection’s new and improved edition so completists may want to hold onto that previous incarnation. As you would expect, Criterion’s transfer is near flawless and a significant improvement on the Classic Media version, making it more than worth the upgrade.

The first disc features an audio commentary by film historian David Kalat who provides a nice mix of analysis and production information. He goes into great detail examining the relationships between the characters and their purpose in the film. Kalat also touches upon the difference between the Japanese and American names for Godzilla. He also good-naturedly addresses the absurdity of the oxygen destroyer and other scientific inaccuracies. At times, he comes across as a little too enthusiastic but this is tempered by his encyclopedia knowledge of all things Godzilla.

“Photographic Effects” features effects director Kawakita and effects photographer Motoyoshi Tomioka revealing how some of the special effects for Godzilla were done with examples from unused footage. They point out the extensive use of matte paintings and composite shots.

Japanese film critic Tadao Sato examines Godzilla’s role in Japanese culture. He remembers seeing the film when it first came out and recalls his first impressions. He also points out how aspects of the film evoked memories of the atomic bomb attacks on Japan.

“The Unluckiest Dragon” is a 2011 audio essay about the Daigo Fukuryu Maru fishing boat tragedy that inspired parts of Godzilla. The crew witnessed a powerful U.S. atomic bomb test and became sick with radiation poisoning. This essay examines the socio-political implications of the incident.

Also included is a theatrical trailer.

For completists, both versions – the original 98 minute Japanese version and the 80 minute Hollywood version, entitled Godzilla, King of the Monsters – are included, each on their own disc, but after seeing the original it is really hard to go back to the other. American movie producers acquired the North American rights and promptly Americanized the movie, inserting a reporter played by Raymond Burr with only 60 minutes of the original film intact, the rest was cut and new footage shot. Criterion has also included a trailer and David Kalat returns for a commentary where he starts off by providing the brief backstory to the nuclear arms race between Russia and the U.S. He discusses the Americanization of Godzilla including its unusual structure of flashbacks, which he explains may actually be reminiscent of film noir.

There is an interview with actor Akira Takarada who talks about his experience working on Godzilla. He talks about his initial impressions of the screenplay and tells several filming anecdotes, including working with the legendary Takashi Shimura (The Seven Samurai).

Godzilla performer Haruo Nakajima (who played the creature in 12 films) talks about the challenges he faced playing the iconic monster. He recalls being told to study King Kong for how to move like a mythical creature. He talks about what it was like moving inside the suit and how he had to adjust his performance.

Features effects technicians Yoshio Irie and Eizo Kaimai talk about their work on the film. They start at the project’s origins and go all the way through production providing invaluable recollections on how the various effects were achieved.

Composer Akira Ifukube talks about his long, illustrious career and, of course, his groundbreaking work on Godzilla. He talks about his humble beginnings in forestry to how he eventually got involved in scoring films.

DVD of the Week: 12 Angry Men: Criterion Collection

Adapted from the 1954 teleplay of the same name, 12 Angry Men (1957) marked the auspicious feature film debut of director Sidney Lumet who had cut his teeth on live television in New York City. He brought a gritty, edgy realism to this film, an approach that flew in the face of traditional, more polished Hollywood cinema. With the exception of Henry Fonda, Lumet eschewed movie star casting in favor of actors with a background in New York stage and T.V. work, like E.G. Marshall, Lee J. Cobb, and Jack Warden. The film’s legacy has endured and been felt for decades and without it there would be shows like Law & Order or John Grisham novels. While 12 Angry Men was well-received by critics at the time, it certainly didn’t set the box office on fire but over the years its reputation has grown and is now regarded as a classic.


Lumet begins the film with a solemn opening shot of the impressive pillars of the hall of justice in New York City. In a court room, a Puerto Rican teenager has been charged with murdering his father. If the 12-man jury can find him guilty beyond a reasonable doubt, then he could be given the death penalty as is the case with first-degree murder. And so, the rest of the film plays out in a small room on “the hottest day of the year,” with no air-conditioning as these men must decide the fate of another.

Before they get started, the men engage in idle chit-chat – getting to know you stuff as their various personalities begin to emerge. During a preliminary vote, everyone says the kid is guilty except for one man (Henry Fonda) who doesn’t want to condemn him to death until they talk about it. As he points out, suppose they’re wrong. Each man says why they think the teenager is guilty and some range from flimsy (“I just think he’s guilty.”) to logical (E.G. Marshall) to opinionated (Lee J. Cobb) but no one can convince the dissenting juror who makes some pretty good points. The juror isn’t saying that the boy is guilty, just that he’s not sure that he did it. The longer they stay sequestered in that hot room, the more tempers flare up as their prejudices come to bear and the dissenting juror begins to garner support with his rational dissection of the evidence and the testimony from the case.

As the film progresses, this impressive cast of actors really impress as they bounce off each other in the small room, from the quiet, reserved juror played by Jack Klugman to the bluster of the juror played by Lee J. Cobb to the unwavering decency of the juror played by Henry Fonda. Lumet is able to keep our interest in the story that unfolds by maintaining the focus on his brilliant cast. He doesn’t try to get fancy with the camerawork or manipulate us with music. He lets the actors do their thing with the first-rate screenplay by Reginald Rose that results in a film that epitomizes the phrase, “hard-hitting drama.” 12 Angry Men is a powerful statement about the American judicial system – one that hasn’t changed much since this film was made except maybe it’s gotten worse – and how personal views and prejudices can influence a jury.

Special Features:

The first disc starts off with “The Television Version” that was directed by Franklin J. Schaffner and which first aired on September 1954 for the series Westinghouse Presents Studio One. It obviously doesn’t feature the star-studded cast of the film but is a pretty solid adaptation in its own right. Ron Simon, curator at the Paley Center for Media in New York City, introduces it and puts the program into context, talks about the director, cast and so on. He points out that it was experiment to see if theater could work on T.V.

“12 Angry Men: From TV to The Big Screen” features film scholar Vance Kepley talking about how it went from a teleplay to film. Rather fittingly, he briefly gives the origins of 12 Angry Men and its numerous adaptations over the years. He talks about the challenges of working in live T.V.

Also included is a trailer.

The second disc includes “Lumet on Lumet,” a collection of archival interviews with the director who talks about his long career. He talks about getting into show business as a kid. He also discusses his work ethic and how he applied it to his films. Lumet also shares some of his interesting life experiences.

“Reflections on Sidney” features friend and collaborator Walter Bernstein sharing some of his observations of Lumet, like how he enjoyed working with actors. Bernstein also talks about how they became friends and tells some good stories.

Ron Simon returns to talk about the importance of writer Reginald Rose who wrote 12 Angry Men. He points that among the great early T.V. writers Rose is the least known and explains the reasons why.

Also included is Tragedy in a Temporary Town, a teleplay written by Rose and directed by Lumet. It aired in 1956 and features a few of the actors who would go on to appear in the film version of 12 Angry Men.

Finally, cinematographer John Bailey talks about fellow cinematographer Boris Kaufman’s visual style and work with Lumet. He gives a brief biographical sketch of the man. Bailey talks about Kaufman’s early, groundbreaking work with French filmmaker Jean Vigo. He also examines Kaufman’s work on 12 Angry Men.

DVD of the Week: Three Colors: Blue, White, Red: Criterion Collection

With the unfortunate passing of filmmaker Krzysztof Kieslowski, cinema lost a great storyteller but he left behind an enduring legacy, most significantly Three Colors, a trilogy of films named after the colors of the French flag: Blue (1993), White (1993), and Red (1994). Each film explores the ideas that came out of the French Revolution: liberty, equality and fraternity. Kieslowski was not concerned about them as political concepts but rather how they pertained to the protagonists of all three films. Incredibly, he wrote, shot and edited them all in under three years and they were released at the prestigious film festivals in Venice, Berlin and Cannes to much critical acclaim. Previously released in a box set by Miramax, the Criterion Collection has produced their own edition with newly remastered transfers of each film and several new extras, giving Kieslowski’s films their trademark deluxe treatment.


When her husband and daughter are killed in an automobile accident, which she survives, Julie (Juliette Binoche) is understandably devastated. She shuts herself off emotionally, never wanting to feel anything again after such a traumatic experience. In the opening scenes of Blue, actress Juliette Binoche displays an incredible range of emotions as her character tries to comprehend her world, which has been shattered. She ends up suppressing raw emotion with detachment.

Over the course of Blue, Julie experiences a series of epiphanies as symbolized by bursts of the color blue and a loud swell of classical music, which acts as an emotional Greek chorus. Music is her voice, channeling the emotion she keeps in check most of the time. As the film progresses, she finds a way to free herself from her past and from the revelations about her husband’s life. She puts herself through a series of exercises to test her feelings – is she ready to face the world without emotion? Julie has shut herself off from the world but eventually learns how to become a part of it again. Kieslowski draws us into this world so that we become invested in its inhabitants, in particular, Julie who endures unimaginable tragedy and must find a way to continue.

If Blue is ostensibly a tragedy, then White is a darkly comic revenge story. Karol Karol (Zhigniew Zamachowski) is a Polish hairdresser who lives with his beautiful young bride Dominique (Julie Delpy) in Paris but she divorces him early on in the film for failing to consummate their marriage. She takes him to court and coldly tells him that she doesn’t love him anymore. Karol soon finds out that his bank account has been frozen and he becomes homeless, which leaves him wondering if he has the strength to go on. Dominique has completely destroyed him and so he goes back to his native Poland where he rebuilds his life and plans an elaborate revenge plot.

Actor Zhigniew Zamachowski has an incredibly expressive face that he uses to make Karol instantly sympathetic but it isn’t too hard after all the horrible things Dominique does to him. Your heart really goes out to Karol just as Julie Delpy’s cold, cruel character really makes you hate her and hope that she gets her well-deserved comeuppance, but as with Kieslowski’s films, it’s never that simple and the ending is surprisingly hopeful.

The first third of White is utterly heartbreaking as poor Karol deals with one soul-crushing injustice after another. In the second third, he rebuilds his life in Warsaw in an inspirational turn of events as he is employed as a bodyguard for a local criminal while cutting hair for his brother on the side. Karol is a quiet, unassuming guy. As a result, people, like his wife and the local crooks, underestimate him. They don’t realize just how clever he is and this is used to his advantage. Finally, the last third of the film is Karol’s payback on those who wronged him. In White, the traditional roles are reversed as Karol is the ingénue while Dominique is led by her sexual drive. Over the course of the film, we see him reassert his own identity while refusing to lose his optimism or romantic nature.

Red concludes the Three Colors trilogy with a moving examination of the notions of fate and chance as a beautiful runway model named Valentine (Irene Jacob) crosses paths with Joseph (Jean-Louis Trintignant), a bitter retired judge, when she accidentally hits his dog with her car. She lives in Geneva and maintains a long distance relationship with her irrationally jealous boyfriend over the phone. There is also subplot concerning a young man studying to be a judge and who is also having relationship problems.

Joseph spends his time eavesdropping on his neighbors’ phone calls, an odd hobby for a retired judge. Valentine is struck by his honesty and fascinated with his outlook on life, shaped by years of his profession. Now, he is a voyeur, listening to other people’s conversations while he has no life of his own. She believes that people are basically good while he believes the opposite, which was no doubt cultivated over years of seeing the worst of humanity paraded in front of him. Valentine inspires Joseph to reconnect with humanity while he inspires her to be more independent and proactive in her relationships.

Initially, Valentine comes across as a ditzy model with no common sense (especially in regards to the dog) but Irene Jacob’s soulful performance suggests that there is more to her character and this becomes apparent over the course of the film. Like Julie in Blue, Joseph is emotionally disconnected from others and seems not to care about Valentine hitting his dog with her car. Jean-Louis Trintignant is excellent as the jaded ex-judge and it is fascinating to watch his character go from an indifferent observer to someone that can reconnect with the rest of humanity. Trintignant has wonderful chemistry with Jacob and it is fascinating to see the relationship develop between their characters during the course of the film. With Red, Kieslowski reminds us of the importance of being connected with others and with humanity. By that extension, the entire trilogy is an epic treatise on the strengths and weaknesses of humanity.

Special Features:

Those of you who own the Miramax box set might want to hold onto it as not all of the extras have been carried over to the Criterion Collection edition. For example, the audio commentaries film scholar Annette Insdorf did for each film have not been included. Also omitted are the selected scene commentaries that actresses Julie Delpy and Irene Jacob did for White and Red respectively. While some of Kieslowski’s student films have been included on this new set, Concert of Wishes, Trolley, and The Office have been omitted. Completists will want to hold onto the Miramax edition.

New to this set is “On Blue,” a video essay by film studies professor Annette Insdorf where she gives a brief background to the Three Colors trilogy before examining the themes explored in Blue. She also analyzes the film’s striking style as well as the moving classical score.

“Kieslowski’s Cinema Lesson” sees the filmmaker discussing a specific scene from Blue and the importance of close-ups in the film.

Also included is a selected scenes commentary by actress Juliette Binoche. She talks about meeting Kieslowski for the first time and how they talked about philosophy. She turned down a role in Jurassic Park (1993) to do Blue. The actress gives her impression of the director and what it was like to work with him.

There is a new interview with composer Zbigniew Preisner. He had worked with Kieslowski on several films, including the Three Colors trilogy. By the time they did Blue together the two men had a very familiar shorthand and knew what the wanted. Preisner recalls first working with Kieslowski and talks about his working methods.

“Reflections on Blue” takes a retrospective look at the film with critics and historians talking about the production and offering analysis. They point out that Kieslowski avoided making an overt political statement with these films by focusing on the personal: the tragic life of a woman. The film’s cinematographer, editor and Binoche also offer their thoughts on the film.

Another new extra is “On White,” a video essay by film scholar Tony Rayns. He provides backstory to the film. It was the first film Kieslowski had made since The Decalogue (1989). Rayns also provides details on the socio-political conditions in Poland at the time. In White, Kieslowski confronted the changes to the country since the fall of Communism.

“Kieslowski’s Cinema Lesson” features the director’s views and he talks about the opening scene of the film. He also explains why he included shots of the suitcase and how it ties in with the opening scenes of the other two films.

There are new interviews with actors Zbigniew Zamachowski and Julie Delpy. They talk about how they met Kieslowski and were cast in White. They both talk about working with the director and how he was very exact in his methods with no improvisation.

Another new extra is an interview with co-writer Krzystof Piesiewicz where he talks about working with Kieslowski. They first met in 1982 and Piesiewicz noticed that the director was lost in life having gone through some personal ordeals. They became friends and worked together over 15 years on 17 films.

“The Making of White” features some excellent behind the scenes footage of Kieslowski making the film in Poland. He describes White as a “lyrical comedy” and also a “sad comedy.”

Yet another new extra is “On Red,” a video essay by film critic Dennis Lim. He discusses the film’s themes, chief among them the notion of isolation. He also analyzes Red’s style, in particular, the use of color.

“Kieslowski’s Cinema Lesson” features the director discussing a scene with Valentine and the dog she accidentally hit with her car. He says that it is the film’s first critical moment. The ever eloquent director explains his intentions with this scene and why it was shot the way it was.

There is a new interview with actress Irene Jacob and she talks about her experiences working with Kieslowski on Red. She also discusses her first meeting with him and how that led to her being cast in The Double Life of Veronique (1991). Jacob talks about working with her Red co-star Jean-Louis Trintignant and comes across as a smart and engaging person.

Producer Marin Karmitz talks about the making of Red and tells a story about an elaborate shot that was achieved and the difficult logistics involved. He also recounts a story of how the film received three Academy Award nominations as an American film!

Editor Jacques Witta talks about why certain scenes in Red were cut and his impressions of working with Kieslowski. There are excerpts of this footage which are quite interesting but one can see why they were removed.

“Kieslowski Cannes 1994” is a short documentary about Red’s world premiere at the 1994 Cannes Film Festival where the director famously announced his retirement. There are interviews with the two lead actors who came to the festival to help promote the film. This is a nice snapshot of Red’s debut.

“Kieslowski: The Early Years” takes a look at the director’s early life with interview soundbites from film scholars and collaborators. He moved around a lot as a child and didn’t dream of being a filmmaker but rather fell into it. This featurette provides insight into what motivated Kieslowski to become a filmmaker and how it shaped his later films.

Also included are two student films, The Tram (1966), about a boy flirting with a pretty girl, and The Face (1966), where he played a tormented artist.

There are two short documentaries, Seven Women of Different Ages (1978), which looks at several ballet dancers, each one on a different day of the week, and Talking Heads (1980), a fascinating film where 40 different people of various ages are asked the three same questions.

Also included are trailers for all three films.

“Behind the Scenes of Red” features footage of Kieslowski directing the film juxtaposed with the actual scene as it appeared in the film. This featurette provides some insight into how he worked.

Finally, a new addition to this set is “Krzysztof Kieslowski: I’m So-So,” a 55-minute documentary made in 1995 shortly after he retired from filmmaking. He talks about his life and films. As always, Kieslowski speaks eloquently and thoughtfully about a variety of topics in this fascinating portrait.

DVD of the Week: Carlos: Criterion Collection

Notorious international terrorist Ilich Ramirez Sanchez a.k.a. Carlos the Jackal came to prominence in the 1970’s and 1980’s with several politically-motivated bombings, kidnappings and hijackings in Europe and the Middle East. He eventually became a popular culture icon with thinly-disguised depictions in films like Nighthawks (1981) and gracing the cover of Black Grape’s debut album. His image was used as a cultural touchstone rather than an accurate depiction. Incredibly, it wasn’t until Olivier Assayas’ ambitious five-and-a-half hour miniseries Carlos (2010) that the man and his times were finally done justice. Assayas wisely doesn’t pass judgment on Carlos but rather depicts how he influenced the political climate and how it, in turn, influenced him. Far from a stuffy history lesson, Carlos is an epic political thriller with a charismatic performance by Edgar Ramirez as the infamous terrorist.


Carlos is presented in three, feature-length episodes that track his rise to power and notoriety; the man at the peak of his powers and his greatest triumph; and his inevitable decline and capture. Early on, Assayas establishes his take on Carlos (Edgar Ramirez), presenting him as a vain man who, at one point, is seen admiring his own naked body in a mirror to the strains of “Dreams Never End” by New Order. We also see him espouse his personal philosophy, that true glory is “doing one’s duty in silence. Behind every bullet we fire, there will be an idea because we act in harmony in our conscience.” And initially, he seems to adhere to this but once he becomes a superstar among international terrorists, he embraces and cultivates his inflated reputation.

In the first episode, Assayas shows Carlos’ clumsy attempts to impress Wadie Haddad (Ahmad Kaabour), co-founder of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP), with a bungled assassination and a failed bombing. This segment builds towards an intense showdown between French domestic intelligence agents and Carlos at one of his girlfriends’ apartment in Paris where we see just how dangerous he is when cornered. The second episode starts off literally with a bang as Carlos and his group arrives at the OPEC headquarters in Vienna and takes oil ministers from all over the world hostage in 1975. This was his highest profile operation done at the height of his powers.

By the end of the second episode, Carlos has been kicked out of the PFLP and he starts up his own terrorist organization, effectively becoming a mercenary. The third episode tracks his inevitable decline as he wages a war of terror on France in the early to mid-‘80s after they arrest his wife and a close associate. It’s costly battle for both sides but more so for Carlos who can no longer rely on his reputation to get jobs or find safe haven in countries that used to be sympathetic towards him. He becomes more vulnerable to attacks because he has more to lose, chief among them a family.

Edgar Ramirez’s magnetic presence really comes across early on as he exudes the cocky confidence of the man and conveys his complete commitment to the cause he espouses so brazenly. The actor has Carlos’ terrorist swagger down cold, showing us the smooth ladies man with his perfectly coifed looks and stylish attire. Known prior to Carlos mostly for his strong supporting turn in Tony Scott’s Domino (2005), he finally gets to be front and center, playing the role of a lifetime: a larger than life historical figure in a sprawling epic. Assayas and Ramirez’s fascinating take on Carlos is that he viewed himself as a kind of rock star, a charismatic personality who clearly saw himself as someone of importance, destined to do great things. This is evident in the way Carlos idolized and emulated Che Guevara during the OPEC raid, sporting the iconic revolutionary’s trademark beret and scruffy facial hair look as if making a statement. Also, the rock star analogy is further explored in the use of post-punk music along with the third episode, which could be seen as Carlos' “fat Elvis” period of decline. Ramirez commands every scene he’s in, especially the OPEC raid where he prowls around rooms and hallways, expertly orchestrating this attack in order to get what he wants.

In an intriguing break from tradition, Assayas eschews a traditional orchestral score for source music, predominately post-punk rock. The opening track is “Loveless Love” by the Feelies, which sets the tone of the film. As the song builds so does the tension of the scene it play over – that of Carlos attempting to assassinate a pro-Israeli businessman in England. Assayas also uses a few tracks by Wire, one by A Certain Ratio and a memorable action sequence scored to “Sonic Reducer” by the Dead Boys. The attention to period detail and architecture is also excellent as Assayas takes us on a perverse travelogue through Europe and the Middle East with Carlos as our guide.

With its color-coded sequences and its objective direction that is slick and confident, Carlos resembles Traffic (2000) and Syriana (2005). These films are all ambitious and expansive in scope as they expertly blend personal politics with bigger political movements. Carlos is a towering achievement, a fascinating study of a man who was a reflection of the times in which he lived in and is embodied by Ramirez’s powerful performance spanning several decades. Assayas’ film is very relevant to our times as it examines the complex machinations of international terrorism with the agendas of terrorist groups clashing with that of the governments of countries all over the world. Carlos sees the struggle of the oppressed against imperialist regimes as a war that he helps fight. With the end of the Cold War, he is marginalized and considered a relic from a bygone era. Assayas has crafted an incredible film that is smartly written, well-acted and masterfully directed.

Special Features:

The first disc includes a theatrical trailer.

The second disc starts off with “Shooting the OPEC Sequence,” a 22-minute featurette examining how Olivier Assayas shot Carlos and his team’s raid on the OPEC headquarters on December 21, 1975. The director offers his thoughts on what he hoped to achieve with the film over footage of the cast and crew working on location. This extra provides some insight into his working methods.

There is an interview with Denis Lenoir, one of the film’s two cinematographers. He shot the second half of Carlos and talks about his approach towards the job. He didn’t prepare much for the film because he came in halfway through and goes into some of the technical aspects (i.e. film stock, lighting, etc.). Lenoir also talks about how Assayas works.

Lenoir also provides a selected-scene commentary, going into detail about the technical aspects of six scenes from the film. For example, he mentions the kinds of lenses he used, the lighting scheme and whether he used hand-held cameras or not.

The third disc features a 43-minute interview with director Olivier Assayas. He gives his take on Carlos and the times that shaped the man. The filmmaker talks about his intentions for the film. He admits that it did not originate with him because he would’ve considered too complicated a task to undertake and was actually approached to direct. Assayas talks about growing up during Carlos’ heyday and also about making the film itself.

There is also a 20-minute interview with actor Edgar Ramirez. He was drawn to the film because it dealt with the mechanics of terrorism and politics. The actor speaks eloquently about his take on Carlos and how the OPEC raid defined him. Ramirez also speaks about how he prepared for the role, including all kinds of research he conducted as well as gaining and then losing weight for the various periods of Carlos’ life.

The fourth and last disc starts off with “Carlos: Terrorist without Borders,” an hour-long documentary that aired on French television in 1997. It fleshes out many of the events depicted in the film and provides some background into Carlos’ politics as well as his rise to prominence. The doc mixes compelling news footage (including actual footage of Carlos) with talking head soundbites to paint a fascinating portrait of the man.

Also included is a 1995 interview with Hans-Joachim Klein, the German left-wing militant that was conducted by Daniel Laconte who went on to help produce Carlos. Most interesting, Klein wears a disguise and talks about how he must lie on a daily basis lest he be discovered by those who want to get him. At times, he comes across as more than a little eccentric.

Finally, there is “Maison de France,” an 88-minute documentary about the 1983 bombing of the Maison de France in West Berlin that was orchestrated by Johannes Weinrich for Carlos. It puts the incident in context with the political climate at the time. There is pretty gripping news footage of the bombing and the location is revisited in recent years to see how it has changed.

MGM MOD DVD of the Week: Hickey & Boggs

It has been well-documented how the 1970’s were a golden age for American cinema with many risky and unusual films being made and released through a Hollywood studio system in disarray after the surprise breakthrough success of Easy Rider (1969). One of the lesser-known gems from this era is the gritty detective film Hickey & Boggs (1972). Directed by actor Robert Culp, it is notable for reuniting him with comedian Bill Cosby, both of whom enjoyed considerable success on the popular 1960’s television series I Spy. People expecting the same kind of fun, exciting vibe from that show to be carried over to this film would be very disappointed as Culp served up a dark, violent tale of two down on their luck private investigators who get in way over their heads.


Al Hickey (Bill Cosby) and Frank Boggs (Robert Culp) are two downtrodden private investigators coasting through life until they are hired to find a missing woman. Hickey’s first lead ends with a dead body, killed by the woman who is also linked to an armed robbery, which is of interest to local mobster Mr. Brill (Robert Mandan) and his right-hand man Ballard (Michael Moriarty). As the film progresses, we learn more about the missing woman and her motivation, which propels the narrative and also adds a tragic dimension to the story. Hickey and Boggs start off not caring about anything but as their case progresses it becomes personal and they have something to fight for even if it is only revenge, which can only end in a bloody confrontation.

Walter Hill’s stripped-down screenplay gives us brief glimpses into Hickey and Boggs’ private lives. Hickey is estranged from his wife and kid while Boggs is an alcoholic who enjoys the company of prostitutes. Hill has always adhered to the less is more school of thought and Culp seems to understand this, complimenting the lean script with no-nonsense direction. Culp employs Hill’s trademark economy of style so well that Hickey & Boggs could be Hill’s long lost film. Yet, Culp still employs nice, little touches, like how Boggs always puts a paper bag that reads, “Out of Order” over every parking meter he leaves their car in front of.

For people that only know Bill Cosby as his cute and cuddly curmudgeonly dad in the 1980’s sitcom The Cosby Show, they will be in for quite a surprise with his turn in Hickey & Boggs as an all-business detective. He is especially effective in the last third of the film when his character takes a decidedly darker turn for the worse. Robert Culp is his ideal foil. Obviously, they had cultivated excellent chemistry with I Spy and this continues with Hickey & Boggs. They epitomize the world-weary private investigator but with a cynical ‘70s spin. These guys aren’t particularly noble – they have a job to get done and that’s it.

One of the hallmarks of a lot of crime films done in the ‘70s is the casting of actors that actually look and act like tough guys. Just think of the criminals that populate The Friends of Eddie Coyle (1973) or The Outfit (1973). Hickey & Boggs is no different with the trio of thugs that repeatedly cross paths with our two protagonists. They really look like guys that could mess you up without a moment’s hesitation. They exude natural menace, which enhances all of the scenes they’re in. Look close and you’ll spot character actors Vincent Gardenia, Michael Moriarty and a young, very geeky looking James Woods in key roles.

Hickey & Boggs is one of the more underrated detective films of the ‘70s but it deserves to be mentioned among the best of that era along with the likes of The Long Goodbye (1973) and Night Moves (1975). Much like those films, it takes the private investigator archetype and tears it down in a way that reflects how jaded and cynical people had become during that decade. For some time the film was hard to obtain on home video and then eventually surfaced on DVD with a horrible transfer. In recent years, a beautiful copy has shown up on MGM’s HD Channel and has now finally been released via their MOD DVD program with the same exquisite transfer. Do yourself a favor and check out this under-appreciated gem of a film.

 
For other excellent takes on this film, check out Mr. Peel's Sardine Liqueur, also Lazy Thoughts from a Boomer, and Obscure One-Sheet.

DVD of the Week: The Killing

Before graduating to studio films for the remainder of his filmmaking career, Stanley Kubrick cut his teeth on several lean independent films with producer James B. Harris, chief among them was The Killing (1956), a masterful take on Lionel White’s novel Clean Break. Adapted by Kubrick with dialogue written by none other than legendary crime novelist Jim Thompson, The Killing tells a fairly standard tale of a heist gone wrong. However, it is how Kubrick tells it, which makes the film one of the all-time classic noirs. He rearranges the sequence of events in a way that puts a fascinating spin on how everything goes down, decades before Quentin Tarantino made it cool again with Reservoir Dogs (1992).


During the fifth race at a horse track several incidents occur, which are seemingly unrelated to the casual observer but, of course, are all part of a masterful plan as conveyed by the knowing looks between a number of men. Johnny Clay (Sterling Hayden) is the de facto mastermind of the job and a savvy crook who understands the odds: “Anytime you take a chance you better be sure the rewards are worth the risk because they can put you away just as fast for a $10 heist as a million dollar job.” He plans to take his cut and fly off with his girlfriend and childhood sweetheart Fay (Coleen Gray).

Kubrick skips around chronologically to introduce all the significant players in the drama: bartender Mike O’Reilly (Joe Sawyer); track cashier George Peatty (Elisha Cook) and his shrewish wife Sherry (Marie Windsor); as well as her lover Val (Vince Edwards); gambler Marvin Unger (Jay C. Flippen); with two hired hoods – sniper Nikki Arcane (Timothy Carey) and brawler Maurice Oboukhoff (Kola Kwariani). Like most heist films, everyone has their own agenda and nobody can be trusted. Kubrick establishes these characters, shows their roles in the job and their respective fates in its aftermath.

The Killing features an impressive cast with the likes of Sterling Hayden, a veteran of these kinds of films (see The Asphalt Jungle) and ideally-suited as the no-nonsense leader. Idiosyncratic character actor Timothy Carey has a small but memorable role as a grimacing sharpshooter, but it is Elisha Cook and Marie Windsor who steal the show as a deeply dysfunctional couple. She is a two-timing schemer who has her husband wrapped around her finger (or so she thinks) while he’s the proverbial doormat, ignorant of his wife’s duplicitous ways. Some of the film’s best scenes feature their rocky relationship – one that can only end badly.

Like most film noirs, The Killing chronicles the inevitable countdown to the doomed finale for all involved. We know it’s coming, we just don’t know how and one of the perverse thrills is watching as everything goes horribly wrong. An early film in his career, Kubrick already demonstrated a masterful touch as he orchestrates a meticulously plotted heist film with the confident hand of a seasoned maestro. He also shows his knack for observing human behavior – in this case that of the criminal mind as he illustrates how a carefully planned job is ruined by greed and jealousy.

Special Features:

On the first disc is an interview with producer James B. Harris who talks about working with Stanley Kubrick and, of course, The Killing. Harris recounts how he met the director and the genesis of this film. He gives a nicely detailed account of several aspects of the production and his contributions.

Also included are excerpts from a 1984 interview with actor Sterling Hayden for French television. He talks about working in Hollywood and with Kubrick. Quite the colorful character, Hayden is refreshingly candid about his experiences making films.

“Polito on Thompson” features Robert Polito, author of Savage Art: A Biography of Jim Thompson, talking about the legendary writer’s relationship with Kubrick and the problems he encountered while working in Hollywood. Kubrick was a great admirer of Thompson’s books, especially his knack for writing dialogue, and wanted to utilize this strength in The Killing. Polito recounts how the two men met and their collaboration on this film.

There is a theatrical trailer.

The second disc starts off with a fantastic extra for Kubrick fans – a newly re-mastered transfer of Killer’s Kiss (1955), a low budget film noir the director made prior to The Killing. Shot on the streets of New York City, it concerns a small-time boxer by the name of Davey Gordon (Jamie Smith) who is past his prime. He becomes romantically involved with his neighbor and dancer Gloria Price (Irene Kane) while also getting mixed up with her violent boss Vincent Rapallo (Frank Silvera). Kubrick’s background in documentaries is evident in the way he shoots every day life in New York. The city is almost a character unto itself and the film serves as a fascinating snapshot of a metropolis that no longer exists.

Film critic Geoffrey O’Brien talks about Killer’s Kiss. He compares it to a student film in the sense that it was done for very little money, was an opportunity for the young Kubrick to experiment, and demonstrates his promise as an aspiring filmmaker. He points out that there is a loose, almost improvisational quality that would be less evident in later films as Kubrick became a more skillful director.

Finally, there is a theatrical trailer.

 

MGM MOD DVD of the Week: Johnny Cool

Johnny Cool (1963) is a curious cinematic oddity, an offbeat footnote in Rat Pack lore. Produced by Peter Lawford and featuring fellow Rat Packers Sammy Davis Jr. (who also sings the swingin’ theme song), Joey Bishop, and Henry Silva as the title character, the film was based on John McPartland’s novel The Kingdom of Johnny Cool. It was directed by William Asher, best known for the American International Pictures Beach Party series of teen comedies often starring Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello. He was also married to actress Elizabeth Montgomery at the time, which may explain her presence in Johnny Cool.

The film is a character study of sorts about a cold-hearted assassin who grew up as a bandit named Salvatore Giordano (Henry Silva) in Sicily during World War II. As a boy, he watched helplessly as his mother was gunned down by Nazi soldiers. Then, many years later, we see him get gunned down by Italian government soldiers – only his death was faked by a big-time Mafioso in Rome. He sends the newly dubbed Johnny Cool to the United States to kill all of the people who betrayed him. The crime boss reinvents Johnny completely: how he dresses, acts, talks, and so on. He also transforms the man into an efficient killing machine.

Johnny is tasked to bring down rival crime boss Vincenzo Santangelo played with suave menace by Telly Savalas. While impressing New York City mobsters, Johnny catches the eye of a high-end socialite named Darien Guinness (Elizabeth Montgomery) but he rebuffs her advances initially: “You don’t really care if you know me or not, do you?” she says, to which he replies, “Honey, I’m not buying.” She counters, “You couldn’t!” while he tells her, “Then it’s easy. Just forget it.” Undaunted, she pursues him and they begin a love affair.

Known mostly for playing villains and countless supporting roles, it’s great to see Henry Silva as the protagonist in a film for a change. Based on his work in Johnny Cool, it’s a shame he didn’t get more opportunities to do so. Silva carries himself with a cool confidence and looseness befitting the Rat Pack vibe of the film. He plays Johnny as a tough customer not above walking into a Mob-controlled racket and robbing them of their money while joking about it. Silva looks like he’s having a blast in this role.

For fans of Bewitched, this film may come as something of a surprise as we see Elizabeth Montgomery in a rare dramatic role, which she pulls off quite convincingly. Of particular note is the harrowing scene where she’s beaten by a pair of overzealous police detectives (one played by Joe Turkel no less). She also has a nice scene with Silva where Darien bares her soul to Johnny.

Johnny Cool’s tale of single-minded vengeance features the systematic takedown of a crime syndicate with several audacious assassinations: one target is shot and killed in a crowded train station; another is killed in his swimming pool with a briefcase bomb; and Johnny dispatches another one in his office posing as a window washer. His mission is reminiscent of Lee Marvin’s in Point Blank (1967) only without the artsy experimentation. William Asher employs strictly meat and potatoes filmmaking much like what John Flynn would do later with The Outfit (1973) and ends on a surprisingly nihilistic note as Johnny is betrayed and doomed to a nasty fate worthy of a noir protagonist.

 

DVD of the Week: Insidious

Every so often a low budget horror film comes out and against all odds strikes a chord with mainstream audiences to become a breakout success. This happened with Halloween (1978), The Blair Witch Project (1999), and Paranormal Activity (2007). These films were interested in nothing more than playing on our most basic, primal fears and scaring the crap out of us. The latest horror film to do this is Insidious (2010), a modestly budgeted ($1.5 million) effort from the folks that brought us Saw (2004) and Paranormal Activity. It has gone on to become a bonafide commercial hit ($87 million). More importantly, it flies in the face of the gore-obsessed torture porn sub-genre to deliver good ol’ fashion things-that-go-bump-in-the-night scares that audiences are clearly hungry for. This is even more impressive when you consider that the two men who are the creative driving force behind Insidious are also responsible for the Saw franchise.


The Lambert family has recently moved into their new home and is in the process of unpacking and getting acclimatized to their new surroundings. Josh (Patrick Wilson), the father, is a busy high school teacher, which leaves Renai (Rose Byrne), the mother, at home to unpack and take care of their baby girl. Unusual little things start to happen, like a door moving on its own. While exploring the attic, one the Lambert boys, Dalton (Ty Simpkins), encounters something. He falls and hits his head causing a nasty bump.

The next morning, Josh tries to wake the boy and finds him in a coma. A doctor tells him and Renai that there is no detectable brain damage and he can’t explain what has happened to their child. Three months later and Dalton is still in a coma but he’s allowed to be at home with his mother taking care of him. One day, Renai hears a strange voice on the baby monitor and rushes up to investigate but of course nothing is there but her child. Soon more weird things happen: a loud knocking on the front door, the image of a strange woman appears in the baby’s bedroom window, the once locked front door is now wide open, and so on.

These things put all kinds of stress on the Lamberts and they decide that their house must be haunted so they move to another place but strange things continue to happen which leads them to contact Elise Reiner (Lin Shaye), a friend of Josh’s mother (Barbara Hershey) who is an expert in paranormal activity. She tells them that it isn’t the house that is haunted – it is their child, Dalton. The frequency and intensity of the scares gradually increases as the true nature of what ails Dalton is revealed and Elise gives the Lamberts the lowdown on what’s happening.

Director James Wan is very effective at establishing an unsettling mood right from the film’s spooky prologue. Taking a page out of the film’s producer, Oren Peli’s book (Paranormal Activity), he employs all sorts of tried and true jolts: doors slamming shut on their own, inhuman shadows, mischievous ghosts, and so on. The visuals are enhanced with a creepy soundscape complete with moody sound effects and an atmospheric score by Joseph Bishara. Known for gory films like Saw and Death Sentence (2007), Wan demonstrates refreshing restraint with Insidious.

Wan and long-time screenwriting partner Leigh Whannell have created a compelling and efficient scare engine that plays on some of our simplest fears – that someone close to us is in a dangerous situation that we don’t understand. Insidious doesn’t try to reinvent the demonic possession film but instead mashes it up with the haunted house sub-genre and a side order of astral projection thrown in for good measure. The end result is an entertaining film that resides somewhere between the flashy style of Drag Me to Hell (2009) and the unsettling, white knuckle scare tactics of Paranormal Activity with engaging characters that you grow to care about over time.

Special Features:

“Horror 101: The Exclusive Seminar” features director James Wan and screenwriter Leigh Whannell talking about how they first came up with the notion of astral projection, which they hadn’t seen much in film and place it in a haunted house setting. Whannell wanted to make sure that the audience got to know and identify with the Lambert family so that they would care about what happens to them later on. He and Wan come across as intelligent and eloquent with a good knowledge of the horror genre and its conventions.

“On Set with Insidious” takes a look at the making of the film with plenty of on set footage as we see Wan working with the cast and crew. We see how one of the film’s stunts is performed and an alternate take of a scene. This extra provides some nice insights into filming.

“Insidious Entities” takes a look at the ghosts and demons that appear in the film. Wan and Whannell talk about their distinctive look and where the inspiration for some of them came from and why.

 

MGM MOD DVD of the Week: Park Row / Laws of Gravity

Along with The Big Red One (1980), Park Row (1952) may be Sam Fuller’s most autobiographical film. It was a labor of love for the scrappy director who made it as a tribute to the journalists he knew as a newsboy in the 1920’s. By the time he was 17, Fuller became a crime reporter in New York City working for the New York Evening Graphic. He attempted to get Park Row made at 20th Century Fox but when studio head Darryl Zanuck wanted to turn it into a musical, Fuller refused and started his own production company, which allowed him to make it without any creative compromises.


Dedicated to American journalism, Park Row takes us back to the early days of newspapers and depicts the bitter rivalry between Charity Hackett (Mary Welch), owner of The Star, and one of her employees Phinneas Mitchell (Gene Evans). He resents her tactics, which include condemning the wrong man to death. As he says at one point, “The day The Star reports the facts Judas Escariot will be sainted.” He dreams of running his own newspaper, free of political influence and that would answer to no one. As luck would have it, a wealthy businessman offers to bankroll Mitchell’s dream.

Mitchell is ambitious and quickly assembles a staff that is equally hungry, chief among them veteran reporter Josiah Davenport (Herbert Heyes) who gets to deliver one of Fuller’s trademark impassioned speeches about journalism: “But a fighting editor is a voice the world needs. A man with ideals.” Mitchell’s The Globe gets off to a strong start with its attention-grabbing headlines which doesn’t sit well with Hackett over at The Star.

Frequent collaborator Gene Evans breaths life into Fuller’s pulpy prose and with an omnipresent cigar and no-nonsense attitude, he is the director’s cinematic alter ego, a blue collar Charles Foster Kane. Evans plays Mitchell as a passionate man, a two-fisted defender of the truth and freedom of speech.

Fuller does an excellent job recreated period details on an extremely low budget right down to the tools of the trade, the clothes that people wore and how they spoke. Park Row takes an authentic look at how newspapers were run in the 1880’s, from copyboys to the editor-in-chief. He shows how an issue of a newspaper is put together in a way that hasn’t been done in many years making this film a valuable historical document. In many respects, Fuller’s film is Citizen Kane (1941) on a much lower budget and scale with Evans playing a Kane-esque newspaperman that influences and sometimes creates the news his paper reports on in typical tabloid journalism fashion. However, where Orson Welles’ film attacked the worst aspects of tabloid journalism, Fuller also celebrates its best aspects – call him a cynical idealist. He spends more time showing the actual process of putting together a newspaper and the hard work involved as well as the cutthroat competition that arises among rival papers.

 

Nick Gomez’s Laws of Gravity (1992) was part of an exciting crop of American independent films to come out in the early to mid-1990’s and arguably the best of the Mean Streets (1973) wannabes to be made. It also featured a cast of young, up and coming actors that would go on to solid careers in film and television. Peter Greene and Edie Falco are probably the two most well-known to come out of this film but Adam Trese (Law & Order: Criminal Intent) and Paul Schulze (The Sopranos) also have prolific careers as regular character actors on T.V.


Set on the gritty streets of New York City, Laws of Gravity is about the relationship between two friends – Jimmy (Peter Greene) and Jon (Adam Trese), two small-time crooks that deal in stolen goods. Jimmy is the responsible one while Jon is the wild card always getting into trouble. When we meet them, Jon has skipped out on his court date for a shoplifting charge because he didn’t feel like showing up. Naturally, this doesn’t sit well with his girlfriend Celia (Arabella Field). Jimmy has problems of his own – he owes a sizable chunk of money to local tough guy Sal (Saul Stein) who’s breathing down his neck. As luck would have it, Jimmy and Jon’s friend Frankie (Paul Schulze) rolls back into town with a bunch of guns he wants to sell. Jon and Jimmy see this as an opportunity to make some fast, easy money but of course it doesn’t go as well as they planned. As Jon’s behavior gets increasingly erratic, Jimmy has to make a decision whether to stick by his friend and risk his future or cut him loose and focus on his own problems.

Gomez does a good job showing how a good-natured conversation can turn into a shouting match when Jon gets annoyed with Celia’s nagging criticisms. The dialogue and the way the scene is shot – cinema verite style – feels like we are intruding on an intimate conversation between real people. Gomez employs a restless hand-held camera, which replicates Jon’s anxious energy. He’s a schemer always looking to make some easy money and doesn’t care about who he pisses off.

Based on his solid work in Laws of Gravity, it’s amazing that Peter Greene isn’t a bigger star. He has had small but memorable parts in classic films like Pulp Fiction (1994) and The Usual Suspects (1995) but nothing as substantial as Laws of Gravity (although, there is his startling turn in the little seen Clean, Shaven). He has natural charisma and brings an authenticity to the role of Jimmy that is impressive to watch. This was also an early role for Edie Falco and she demonstrates considerable acting chops. It is easy to see why she has become such an accomplished actress.

Jimmy and Jon are constantly roaming the streets pulling petty crimes like shoplifting but to what end? They get into arguments that break into fights where nobody wins. These guys seem to have little aspirations and are content to live in the moment. Laws of Gravity is a fascinating slice of life look at people just trying to get by any way they can. It depicts the unstable relationship between two men and how it affects their friends and family. Gomez really captures how people from this social strata speak and act. His film is an under-appreciated gem waiting to be discovered and will hopefully find new life thanks to MGM’s MOD program.