Criminally unavailable until now, Jacques Rivette’s gleefully distracted tour of Paris marks an early Blu-ray highlight for 2015.
Allen’s most charming feature gets a fine, if unremarkable, Blu-ray from Twilight Time.
Martel’s aesthetically and thematically intricate debut is one of the most energizing additions to Criterion’s roster in some time.
It typifies Fincher’s style while pushing him in new creative directions, and the minimally loaded BD wisely leaves the film open for spirited debate.
It’s seen many home-video releases over the years, but Criterion’s Blu-ray finally gives the film the package it deserves.
It indulges in heightened emotions and inanity, but never fails to regard its characters’ outsized feelings with affection and understanding.
While Raro’s commendable Blu-ray is leagues ahead of its competitors, even it fails to fully deliver the perfect image this movie so richly deserves.
Thanks to Carlotta’s exceptional transfer, it’s easier than ever to appreciate the timelessness of Carax’s youth masterpiece.
Thom Anderson’s legendary essay film finally comes to home video in one of the most important releases of the year.
This exceptional restoration introduces this touchstone of African-American film to a new generation who will find its lessons enduringly relevant.
One of the few jazz films, or music films in general, to not simply explain its subject, but illustrate his mien.
Sono’s frantic depiction of angry, confused youth is one of his strongest, most poetic works.
The conclusion of Sion Sono’s Hate trilogy gets a reliably barebones but sturdy home-video release from Olive Films.
Raro’s excellent A/V transfer resuscitates a forgotten gem of 1980s cinema, an interpretive horror film from an unpredictable filmmaker.
One of the only great punk films to be purely celebratory of the music’s escapism and inspiration to young misfits.
By far the most uncompromising and gory of the many adaptations of the play, and its viciousness is perfectly preserved by Criterion.
Similar films use widescreen to highlight a terrifying existential void, but these cramped frames produce the nutty energy of cabin fever.
Working in the most white elephantine of genres, Abel Ferrara has produced one of its few termitic entries.
Unfortunately, Rosewater rarely builds off the scenes between Gael García Bernal and Kim Bodnia.
Abel Ferrara’s wholly unconventional biopic manages to stick in the brain like few I’ve seen so far.