Criterion’s release of Schlöndorff’s director’s cut is occasion enough to bang The Tin Drum loudly.
The specter of Cosmopolis, Cronenberg’s latest fuck-all wonder, now haunts home video in this pristine Blu-ray transfer.
The Ultimate Buster Keaton Collection provides essential one-stop-shopping for those looking to bump their Buster up to Blu-ray.
Sergio Corbucci’s classic spaghetti western noodles around with cinema of cruelty, surrealistic imagery, and proto-Peckinpahvian carnage.
Depraved animals and diehard fans of British grindhouse films alike will want to add The Pete Walker Collection to theirs.
Kino continues to bring the Bava with Baron Blood, a minor but amiable enough entry in the maestro’s canon.
Luis Buñuel’s caustic comedy of middle-class mores is arguably the Spanish surrealist’s most accessible late-period masterwork.
Lisa and the Devil is easily the oddest duck in Bava’s filmography, sumptuously photographed and exceedingly surreal.
The latest installment in Redemption and Kino’s rollout of Jean Rollin titles making their Blu-ray debut actually forms a kind of diptych.
The film has been glossed with plenty of contextual extras, including a late-period nugget or two for the completists out there.
Hag horror doesn’t get any better (read: demented) than What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?
In a Glass Cage is a perverse riff on ostensibly endless cycles of sexual and psychological abuse.
There are more than a few striking images and intriguing ideas to be extracted from Tristana.
For good or ill, Black Magic Rites just might put a spell on you.
The film emerges as a more politically engaged companion piece to its showier compatriot, A Serbian Film.
Umberto D. wants to break your heart. Criterion’s spit-polished Blu-ray upgrade makes that prospect all the more beguiling.
Turn it over how you will: A New Leaf looks better than ever in another one of Olive Films’s barebones Blu-ray packages.
A tale of two Terences, The Deep Blue Sea gets the deluxe Blu-ray treatment from Music Box Films
This middling noir is bolstered by strong central performances and some canny subtext.
Ron Fricke’s film is a brightly hued bauble, fit for rapturous contemplation.