Mostly remembered for its plot twist, Jordan’s film is marked by a deep sense of empathy.
It’s worth braving the winds of the harsh merciless world to obtain this upgrade of a stone-cold espionage classic.
Paramount jacks up the presentation of Bay’s unexpectedly bold Pain & Gain with a top-shelf A/V transfer.
the black void of death is the darkness du jour in Abrams’s bracingly revisionist melodramedy.
The lousy feature-length adaptation of a great TV series about terrible movies gets a pretty-good home-video package.
Magnolia does more than well by the visual and auditory splendor of Malick’s strangely ferocious sixth feature.
Bava’s brilliant and deceptive giallo arrives via an invaluable transfer from Kino.
Otto Preminger’s version of a flag-waver, a condemnation of oxymoronic military justice, is a moral chess game that can’t try very hard to fake phony uplift.
It compensates for its narrative shortcomings with an abundance of workmanlike artistry.
This Blu-ray release illustrates how Lubitsch aided the resistance, as only he could: with dignity, always dignity.
The film’s title may not apply to any one of its characters, but this 1080p transfer is one sexy…ahem, well, you get it.
Cronenberg’s flawed but promising feature debut gets an almost immaculate Blu-ray transfer, as well as some solid supplements.
These works evidence a filmmaker with an appropriationist’s eye who nevertheless has larger sociological concerns on his mind.
Ray’s ravishing modern fable of (male-centric) tradition in peril receives a typically beautiful Blu-ray from Criterion.
Criterion rightfully adorns this intoxicating ghost story with copious extras and a transfer befitting a new classic.
This disc offers a strong but not quite definitive transfer of an often unfairly maligned De Palma masterpiece.
Mario Bava had spilled plenty of blood by the time he reached his 1974 swan song, Kidnapped.
Ray’s masterpiece receives an essential high-definition transfer from Criterion, preserving one of the great works of cinema for new generations.
This Blu-ray gives Darius Khondji’s genius with all types of light a bit of a short shrift, but it’s not a severe enough knock to give this disc a pass.
Nichols’s beautiful and touching adventure is a bracing reminder of the primal thrill that a great pop film can offer.
You may wish that Shout! Factory had thrown a more ambitious welcome back party for the film.