Mills’s films might be called fragmentary if not for their unifying spirit of psychological inquiry.
It may be a cartoon, but the film’s deep engagement with municipal history is very much real.
Though it’s long been eclipsed by the Luis Buñuel remake, Renoir’s version endures as a bracing, deeply strange film.
The extras are slight, but America’s favorite man-eating globe of gelatin has never looked better.
Criterion’s Ministry of Fear Blu-ray takes the cake—then blows it up, then goes hunting for its sweetly iced fragments.
Lionsgate does right by the swan song of one of cinema’s least compromising, most iconoclastic mavericks.
Personal, understated, and surprisingly strange Sinister is one of the most compelling horror films of the past decade.
Disney’s desperate and wrong-headed riff on Toy Story gets an expectedly excellent A/V transfer on Blu-ray with a bundle of extras that offer a few bonus points.
Get your motors running. Death moves at 24 frames per second.
Though sans bonus features, the playful macho burlesque of Dick Tracy still strikes a pose.
The film both harkens back to Bava-based gothic horrors as well as anticipates the gory excesses of latter-day Fulci.
Ann Miller may have scraped off her share of dog shit in Mulholland Drive, but none stuck quite so magnificently as Easter Parade.
This Blu-ray doesn’t quite represent Criterion at its transformative best, but that’s admittedly a tall order anyway.
The concluding season is a mostly redeeming finale for a show most people hate to love and love to hate.
Anderson’s most arresting and original work to date ultimately reveals itself to be a great thwarted American love story.
That we feel the camera’s presence so resolutely gives the film an intermittently academic tone.
Disney’s playful, scatterbrained variation on J.M. Barrie’s play and novel soars on Blu-ray.
Yes, it has an inventive score and a game James Coburn, but In Like Flint is still a lumbering, hypocritical dinosaur.
Give this Blu-ray ribbon for improved A/V quality. Otherwise, Warner supplies exactly the same extras package as before.
The Kid with a Bike reconfirms Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne’s reputation as masters of the modern class drama.
The top-notch packaging reveals Argo for what it really is: a coolly realized, wildly reckless actioner.