A cornerstone of Abel Ferrara’s late-career rejuvenation, but the exclusion of his true cut leaves only a creatively stunted bastard child.
Joel Edgerton’s boilerplate direction is a blessing for a genre increasingly saddled with literal visualizations of madness.
Miracle Mile is one of the most fascinating curios of the ’80s, a disaster movie that turns the decade’s optimism back onto itself.
Each battle scar in Antoine Fuqua’s Southpaw is a testament to a vaguely but nonetheless forcefully defined notion of masculinity.
Compounding the leaden pace are the shoehorned references that connect the film to the continuity of the Marvel universe.
It’s the film’s strikingly modern moral and philosophical debates that make it look as if it were made yesterday.
This lovingly assembled box set confirms the series as some of the greatest of their kind.
The endless set pieces grow wearisome in their reliance on prior choreography, though on occasion something impresses.
The rambling conversations and endless wandering through nature could let the film pass for a filler episode of Lost.
Miyazaki’s most well-known film belatedly comes to Blu-ray with one of the strongest A/V transfers afforded to a Studio Ghibli film.
Martin Scorsese’s soberest, most vivaciously thrilling vision of how hollow (and short) the fast lives of mafios really are.
Flicker Alley’s loving presentation of some of Dziga Vertov’s best films easily stands as the home-video release of the year.
The most devastating of American pictures is a simple film masking great complexity.
Scorsese’s intoxicating, sardonic gangster film has, for better and worse, been one of the most influential films of the last three decades.
Selma paradoxically presents nonviolent civil rights protest as something akin to a military campaign.
The greatest asset of Twilight Time’s Blu-ray is the best-to-date home-video presentation of Isabelle Adjani’s transfixing performance.
Warner’s gorgeous Blu-ray preserves Paul Thomas Anderson’s Pynchon adaptation as the director’s anti-Magnolia.
Easily the best home-video release to date of this sci-fi spectacle, with a near-perfect audio track and enough extras to satisfy any diehard.
Kino’s Blu-ray wisely doesn’t attempt to explain its layers with copious extras, leaving the viewer to tease out the director’s final head game.
Cinema Guild’s Blu-ray of Tsai’s elegant, unflinching is a must-own.