Jason Bailey
Every Tuesday, discriminating viewers are confronted with a flurry of choices: new releases on disc and on demand, vintage and original movies on any number of streaming platforms, catalogue titles making a splash on Blu-ray or 4K. This twice-monthly column sifts through all of those choices to pluck out the movies most worth your time, no matter how you’re watching.
PICK OF THE WEEK:
Chantal Akerman Masterpieces, 1968-1978: The Criterion Collection honors the first decade of the late, great filmmaker’s career with this nine-film, three-disc collection. The centerpiece, of course, is the recently-crowned best movie ever, her 1975 drama Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles, and it is worthy of all its accolades. But there’s much more to admire here; this viewer is especially fond of her 1974 debut feature Je Tu Il Elle, a claustrophobic and intimate (she plays the leading role) meditation on sexuality and loneliness, and of her marvelous 1976 documentary News from Home, a moody and elegiac reflection on the years she spent in New York City. Though by no means exhaustive — one hopes this the first of several collections to come — Masterpieces captures her evolving style, clear voice, and command of the medium with clarity and power. (Includes the unfinished documentary Hanging Out Yonkers, film school tests, new and archival featurettes, new and archival interviews, and more.)
ON APPLE TV+:
Killers of the Flower Moon: Like his previous picture, the similarly sprawling and magnificent The Irishman, Marin Scorsese’s latest is great in a fashion that seems particularly tied to his age and experience. He could not have made these films at 30, or 50, or 60. This is the work of a man who has now spent six decades making great movies, for whom that act has become something like second nature; if the 10,000 hours theory is correct, then few filmmakers have spent as much time making, and urgently thinking about, movies. That ease, that expertise, that skill is on display in every one of Killers’ 206 minutes. The scope, the scale, the ambition — no other filmmaker is doing it like this, and that’s all there is to it.
ON MUBI:
Fallen Leaves: The latest from Finnish director Aki Kaurismäki is, true to form, an engagingly bittersweet story of working-class characters and the quiet lives they lead. His subjects are Ansa (Alma Pöysti), a supermarket stocker, and Holappa (Jussi Vatanen), a sandblaster; they meet cute at a karaoke night, cross paths again, and begin a very tentative courtship. Fallen Leaves is deceptively modest, slight even, running a mere 81 minutes and dwelling mostly in quiet moments and offhand interactions. But Kaurismäki’s low-key approach allows the warmth between the characters to grow organically — nothing feels rushed or forced, and as a result, the picture is more honest and satisfying than any ten formulaic rom-coms.
ON DVD / VOD:
Smoke Sauna Sisterhood: Estonian filmmaker Anna Hints helms this startling documentary, which observes a group of women, gathering for a few days of physical and spiritual cleansing in a smoke sauna. Most of the running time is spent in those saunas, where the nude women engage in painfully candid discussions and confessions of what it is to be woman — in this culture in particular, and in the world and general. It’s artfully (and tastefully) photographed, filled with striking close-ups and compositions, but the words are what matter, as these women share stories that are alternately tragic, horrifying, and charming. A powerful picture, and one of the best documentaries of 2023.
ON 4K:
Trainspotting: This 1996 indie sensation — a long-awaited addition the Criterion Collection, which gave it the full treatment back in the laserdisc days — was the movie that made Danny Boyle a marquee director, and for good reason: this was a film of immeasurable style, featuring a startling cast (Ewan McGregor, Jonny Lee Miller, Kelly Macdonald, Robert Carlyle, Peter Mullan), a peerless soundtrack, a script filled with soon-to-be-iconic quotes, and the toilet scene to top all toilet scenes. (That’s this viewer’s takeaway bit of nightmare fuel; some go with the baby on the ceiling. Different strokes, etc.) The 4K restoration captures all of the picture’s snazzy grime, and the sound mix is magnificent; even if you already own this one, I’m afraid you’re going to have to pick it up again. (Includes audio commentary, deleted scenes with commentary, new and archival interviews, featurettes, teaser and trailer.)
The Horrible Dr. Hichcock: This 1962 Italian Gothic horror chiller gets the 4K treatment from Vinegar Syndrome, and it’s a beaut – the colors pop, the blacks are rich and inky, and the whole thing is simply sumptuous. The movie is a hoot as well, a Rebecca / Jane Eyre mash-up with heaping teaspoons of mad scientist action thrown in, played in just the right key by a cast that includes Robert Flemyng, Silvano Tranquilli, Harriet Medin, and the great Barbara Steele of Black Sabbath. Director Riccardo Freda doesn’t take it too seriously (it feels at least passingly influenced by Corman’s Poe pictures), but it lands every scare it chases. (Includes Italian and American cuts, audio commentaries, interviews, alternate title sequence, and trailer.)
ON BLU-RAY:
Mudbound: Director Dee Rees’s feature debut, the 2011 drama Pariah, was a fairly typical indie breakthrough film – a low-budget, relationship-based character drama. She took a giant leap forward (in budget, scope, and ambition) with this adaptation of Hillary Jordan’s WWII-era Southern novel, telling an ensemble story with multiple perspectives in a period setting, and tackling big, important themes. But she never loses the thread that made Pariah so special; it’s moving and angry, lyrical yet terrifying, particularly in the third act’s descent into violence that moves, unexpectedly, to a note of hope. It now joins Pariah in the Criterion Collection, a firm affirmation that Rees is among our most exciting filmmakers. (Includes audio commentary, featurettes, interviews, teaser, and trailer.) (Also streaming on Netflix.)
Run Silent, Run Deep: Clark Gable and Burt Lancaster, two towering oaks of mid-century cinema, co-star as two sub commanders whose rivalry escalates a troubled mission in this genuinely thrilling effort from director Robert Wise (new on Blu from KL Studio Classics). Fans of The Hunt for Red October and Crimson Tide (which it clearly influenced) will find much to admire here; the tension and claustrophobia are palpable, and the action sequences are nerve-jangling. But it’s also plenty poignant, subtly but powerfully grappling with notions of sacrifice, strategy and machismo in combat. Gable and Lancaster are terrific, backed with a deep bench of four-star supporting players — including Don Rickles and Jack Warden, both impossibly young. (Includes audio commentary and trailer.)
Coming Home: Hal Ashby’s 1978 drama was one of the first major films to deal with the Vietnam War in a meaningful way — not in the conflict itself, to be sure, but its emotional aftermath. Jane Fonda stars (in what still feels like a bold move, considering) as the wife of a Marine captain (Bruce Dern) who falls in love with a paraplegic vet (Jon Voight). What could have been a clumsy love-triangle soap or an on-the-nose political parable is instead rendered as a nuanced character-driven drama, beautifully acted by Fonda and Voight (who both won Oscars for their work), as well as Dern, whose portrait of PTSD remains one of his most haunting performances. (Includes audio commentary, featurettes, and trailer.)
The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming: The retrospectives following Norman Jewison’s recent passing underscored not only the baseline excellence of his work, but his tremendous versatility; this was a journeyman director in the era of auteurs, quietly going about his work in various genres with skill and precision. Russians, released in 1966 (newly reissued on Blu-ray by KL), was his entry into the big, busy, rollicking, rowdy, expensive, widescreen Technicolor comedy subgenre defined by It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World, with Alan Arkin as the leader of a Russian sub crew that washes up on the shores of a Massachusetts island community and Carl Reiner as the playwright and family man who becomes his primary foil. Arkin is magnificent (“I am wounded in dignity only!”), Reiner gets to do some A+ slapstick, and Jonathan Winters is a scream as a bumbling cop. (Includes audio commentary, featurette, and trailer.)
The Tune: This (barely) feature-length animated musical comedy from the legendary cartoonist Bill Plympton (new to Blu-ray from Deaf Crocodile) premiered at the 1992 Sundance Film Festival, and it is truly independent: Plympton financed it himself, producing, directing, and co-writing, and incorporating pieces of his earlier, similarly handmade short films. As such, it has a unique, oddball sensibility, incorporating catchy songs, absurdist dialogue, and cheerfully violent slapstick. Bizarre but beautiful, it’s a cult movie that simply hasn’t found its cult yet. (Includes audio commentaries, short films, interview, and trailer.)
Sex and Broadcasting: A Film About WFMU: This 2016 documentary from director Tim K. Smith (new to Blu from Factory 25) is an affectionate tribute to New Jersey’s legendary freeform radio station — and a warts-and-all portrait of the myriad headaches involved in keeping the lights on at an all-volunteer, listener-supported, off-the-wall broadcaster. The deep dives into the station’s history and ethos are fascinating, but even better is the fly-on-the-wall footage of station manager Ken Freedman and his DJs struggling with technical snafus, inadequate facilities, and crippling debt. There are plenty of laughs (no movie with this much Tom Scharpling could offer anything less), but Smith ultimately understands that an enterprise this nutty is very serious business. (Includes featurettes and alternate opening sequence.)
