Mills’s films might be called fragmentary if not for their unifying spirit of psychological inquiry.
Season three of Adam Reed’s deliriously brilliant and hilarious Archer shoots straight with a solid A/V transfer and a small arsenal of extras.
Stolen proves a proficient “Cager” and suitable excuse for wasting half an afternoon.
Criterion’s release of Schlöndorff’s director’s cut is occasion enough to bang The Tin Drum loudly.
The supplements collectively honor Pina Bausch as an artist who had a considerable effect on the lives of her collaborators.
It’s in the Bag! hilariously proves that Fred Allen likely held film in similar esteem as TV.
Compliance effectively splits the difference between American indie art-house solemnity and direct-to-video bad-object tastelessness.
Kotcheff is an uncommonly energetic and enthusiastic artist, and that comes through clearly on his audio commentary.
Essentially Lost Highway for a post-UFC world, the film is an intriguing but ultimately rather empty experience.
This package boasts an excellent visual transfer, but it arguably comes up short in the audio department.
In high-definition, Hitch’s original The Man Who Knew Too Much is the epitome of film class in both senses.
You can’t make a British horror film these days without straining to articulate class anxieties, and Citadel is no exception.
The A/V transfer and director’s commentary are worthy of sincere, ecstatic praise.
This handsome, expertly curated collection rescues from certain fate three of Russian master Aleksandr Sokurov’s greatest films.
Shout! deserves credit for giving Newman’s oddly invigorating second film as a director a better A/V transfer than previous releases.
The characters’ aimless, gear-head addictions define the joyless but dutiful—almost Catholic—tone throughout.
The specter of Cosmopolis, Cronenberg’s latest fuck-all wonder, now haunts home video in this pristine Blu-ray transfer.
Essential viewing, if not only for its edutainment factor, but for the dynamism and felt resonance of its maker’s bounding enthusiasms.
The decade extending from the mid-’60s onward was, in general, one of transition for a Japanese film industry concluding its golden age.
The Ultimate Buster Keaton Collection provides essential one-stop-shopping for those looking to bump their Buster up to Blu-ray.
Whether by design or otherwise, Dredd seems better-suited to a 2D home video presentation than to the 3D silver screen.