Kino’s restoration of Hitchcock’s first sound production happens to feature a gorgeous transfer of…a silent film.
Notorious is a pivotal film in Alfred Hitchcock’s development as a master of romantic isolation.
This is, to date, the best-looking home-video release of Hitchcock’s most underrated film.
Alexandre O. Philippe’s 78/52 comes to life when riffing on the psychosexual perversity of Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho.
A superlative restoration of a key film in Alfred Hitchcock’s evolution as a master explorer of sexual neuroses.
Hitchcock’s first great film looks stellar on Criterion’s Blu-ray, lacking nearly all of the usual decay endemic to silent movies.
This all-star courtroom thriller is also an underrated study of a master artist’s social demons.
Patrick Doyle’s wondrously bombastic score sounds as if Franz Waxman were scoring a slasher movie.
The power of the film is the endurance of an Elvis Presley song (or two), the staying power of a children’s movie, and the sight and sound of a match being struck.
The film finally receives a pristine home-video release with Cohen Media Group’s stellar new Blu-ray.
That multitude, with regard to films, is rather restricted to a specific kind of cinephilia, primarily an overt emphasis on Classical Hollywood.
The film all but predicted where Hitchcock would head in both style and scale in the coming decades.
In order to comprehend Godard’s cinema, Witt claims, it’s first necessary to understand precisely how Godard defines the cinema.
Having built up the tension to a breaking point, Giraudie doesn’t let down the audience.
As delightful as William Castle’s movies are in any venue, you lose out on one of their most appealing aspects when you watch them in the atomized privacy of your home theater.
The peril of prescription drug use is only one red herring that Scott Z. Burns throws out.
With all thrillers, the payoff is as important as the setup, and it’s in the final revelations of the story that Stoker truly falters.
In terms of demographics, Dario Argento is clearly intended as a text for both newcomers and knowledgeable fans alike.
In high-definition, Hitch’s original The Man Who Knew Too Much is the epitome of film class in both senses.
Greven’s analysis is fluid and detailed, while excavating exhilarating thematic linkages between all filmmakers.