Mostly remembered for its plot twist, Jordan’s film is marked by a deep sense of empathy.
Once the film’s fanatics find out that this edition is mostly a gussied-up replay of the previous one, the shit’ll really hit the fan.
A fabled vision of childhood virtue bookended by the horrible, undiscriminating hands of war.
Peace may lie at the end of an umbilical cord, but these women are more interesting as anguished bitches than nurturing mamas.
Pensive, tender, unforgettable.
Criterion offers a superb DVD treatment that will be heaven for fans of this largely unseen Powell and Pressburger effort.
Scarcely earth-shattering, Sky High is still a better kiddie flick than Chicken Little.
Played for laughs, the extras collected on this unrated DVD of The Dukes of Hazzard will hardly summon a chuckle.
Doing justice to an essential film, this two-disc edition is a keeper for Mario Bava fans.
Try the films of Radley Metzger instead.
Even more disposable and blatantly money-grabbing than those previous two-disc Diet Golden Collections, if that’s possible.
In reconnecting us with the past, McElwee asks us to reconnect with our human spirit.
Come for McCarthy going down in flames, stay for the trenchant seeds of political media.
The Reception welcomes us with a punch in the gut.
Thankfully, New Yorker Video in conjunction with Project X Distribution has found a way to make this and other Watkins films available.
Save for the visible grain and unfortunate fluctuations in contrast, this is a sharp and clean transfer.
The audio presentation is solid, especially the post-production sound of Morgan Freeman’s narration and Alex Wurman’s score.
Liman’s Mr. and Mrs. Smith is Scenes from a Marriage for Generation Y.
Decades before Stallone in nut-hugging shorts, check out the first cliffhangers.
Since Sarno’s film exudes cheapness, it’s probably fitting that this DVD’s anamorphic widescreen transfer is a cruddy mess.
Mizoguchi’s film is far from chivalrous, but that doesn’t stop it from being one of cinema’s most austere male weepies.