Turns out, Hammer was still making entertaining and even innovative films in the 1970s.
A film like this that wears its homages proudly—and wears them this well—is something to be celebrated.
Taken in total, these Akerman films have only whetted my appetite for more from her scattered, mysterious career.
If you like crane shots and hyper-saturated cinematography, but don’t care much about bonus features, this surrogate’s for you.
A couple of brief but info-packed extras complement the Shine director’s latest weepy, true-life adaptation.
Electric, essential cinema framed with love and scholarly reverence.
Paris, Texas belongs to the rare tradition of American art that actually fills me with nostalgic love for the sleepy Southwest.
There’s more to Akerman’s work in the ’70s than Jeanne Dielman, even if that film continues to loom large over the period.
Yet another dubious Guevara biopic that sees the man’s ideology as something to be worn and not questioned.
It’s still not much more than an Oulipian ode to the thicket of middle-aged sexuality, but on Blu-ray the thicket appears far more paean-worthy.
Not much star power bolstering the disc’s bonus features, but overall it’s a nice package for a rather small film.
A superb, complex drama and a stellar later performance from Nakadai make the film a rare treat for fans of period drama with a generic twist.
Mid-level Altman from the forgotten ’80s, a period that ought not to be forgotten entirely.
This is a political thriller that would have had Costa-Gravas and Oliver Stone furiously taking notes.
Buy this DVD for your kid this Christmas….because Zach Galifianakis wasn’t in enough movies this year.
If you’ve got a Ruffie hangover, you can relive the The Hangover for the first time all over again. Just skip the bonus material.
Although possessing far less than a hatchful of extra features, this is still a DVD set you’d want to take with you to that proverbial desert isle.
It may sound pathetic, but receiving a miniature Tom Servo action figure with this DVD set might be the current high point of my career as a film critic.
This Christmas, no Arnaud Desplechin fan should be without a Blu-ray player.
This release will keep Fight Club misread as a nihilistic paean to violence—or as a celebration of hyper-masculinity-for years to come.
The age might have been more gilded and gullible than golden, but as a lesson in media studies this set is indispensible.