Desperate Living is Waters’s most furious political statement.
Too bad that the crummy cover art may deter some prospective buyers.
A bare-bones DVD treatment for yet another shallow entry in Vin Diesel’s mostly intolerable acting resume.
Not since last year’s Vanilla Sky has Paramount offered the kind of top-notch video and sound transfer available on this DVD edition.
It manages an act of alchemy as it exudes the foul miasma of flop sweat at the same time as it showcases Fosse’s consummate cinematic talents.
Hello, Dolly! is one big-assed bull in a china shop.
It remains a treat for fans of cheesy science fiction and Charlton’s Heston’s blustery, pseudo-messianic ’70s-era heroes.
If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends, make it last forever, friendship never ends.
If you’re reading this, you know that the definitive, extended DVD edition of the film is still a few months away.
Malkovich ultimately pushes the film so far into an emotional void as to render it completely useless.
A low-profile DVD for sure, but you’re probably just buying this disc for yet another Christopher Walken scenery-chewing smackdown, aren’t you?
Jordan’s remarkable scripted dialogue is trumped only by the sadness of Nick Nolte’s performance.
Anchor Bay lays down the extra-features smack down for their presentation of Romero’s film.
That rare sequel which improves on its original, which, in this case, wasn’t that hard to do.
Most die-hard New Line horror aficionados are likely to share the eye-rolling sentiments of second-billed cameo star M. Emmet Walsh.
Sirk’s fascination with duplicity and enforced morality is rendered here with a light farcical touch and a plea for honesty.
There’s no denying that this chilling Hawks production is a must-see for science fiction and horror aficionados.
Costa-Gavras walks a fine line between portraying the soulless social allowances and ignorance that allowed the Holocaust to happen, and exploiting them for dramatic punch.
John Carpenter owes his trademark slightly-off-frame entrances to Alan Arkin’s terrifying, famous lunge at Audrey Hepburn.
May be worth a look solely for the sadistic interactive menus, where Sid Haig will test your powers of resistance.
Too bad the disc’s video transfer doesn’t do Tim Orr’s gorgeous cinematography justice.