This release enshrines the film’s position as one of the pivotal works of the New Hollywood era.
The second season of Rod Serling’s horror anthology series looks downright cinematic in HD.
Ingmar Bergman’s Cinema may be exhaustive, but with all the indelible beauty it contains, it's never exhausting.
Kino’s Blu-ray preserves the hypnotic, oneiric beauty that undercuts the film’s chaotic violence.
You may wish that Shout! Factory had thrown a more ambitious welcome back party for the film.
The film’s highly calculated beauty suffocates rather than elevates the story’s emotional underpinnings.
Sometimes a classic film gets a grand reception on home video, and sometimes it has to sneak out by the fire escape.
No one watches martial-arts movies to learn lessons.
Another serial killer movie, and this one’s so bad it reaffirms how often we take even mediocre pictures for granted.
An admirable Sienna Miller effort isn’t enough to save this strange, plasti-quirky mess.
It won’t convince Crank: High Voltage’s naysayers, but for those on the film’s insane wavelength, it’s a worthy DVD package.
The film is a pure narcotized rush of blistering action, odious stereotypes, and shock-for-shock's-sake nastiness.
Daniel Adams’s adaptation of Joseph Lincoln’s novel Cap’n Eri could just as easily be called Two Brides for Three Salty Seadogs.
It may have been too much movie for standard DVD, but not so for this Blu-ray release.
The film that brings Tarantino’s magnum opus full circle emotionally and thematically gets its definitive release-visually, at least.
This wannabe badass biker flick plays like a Kill Bill-Death Proof hybrid minus the genre-deconstruction angle.
The film operates under the delusion that it’s a scabrous genre autopsy.
The film is simultaneously an act of revisionism as well as a parody of then-revitalizing neo-noir.
“Baby, I don’t care.” But you do, Bob, and this set proves it.
Bill Plympton’s world of fantasy is right on target with that of fellow shock animator Don Hertzfeldt.