Criterion offers what should prove to be a definitive transfer of a pivotal and still overwhelmingly intimate David Lynch film.
Arbelos offers a landmark restoration of a raw, self-devouring work of auto-critical cinema that was decades ahead of its time.
Friedkin’s neon-hued noir gets a vibrant 4K transfer and a slate of solid new extras from Shout! Factory.
The film occasionally and promisingly suggests an obsessive and free-associative paean to regret.
With this classic Hollywood thriller, Robert Altman proved that career rehabilitation can spring from stylishly biting the hand that feeds you.
Kino presents Jonathan Demme’s dark, irreverent romantic comedy with an admirable A/V transfer, but skimps completely on the extras.
There’s no attempt to convince us that the world is being corrupted by people who haven’t accepted the Gospel; it merely assumes we agree with that idea.
As an adaptation of Davis Sedaris’s short essay from his acclaimed 1997 compilation, Naked, it’s a letdown, as it doesn’t exude the pop of the author’s trademark humor.
Kazan’s furious look at barely dormant post-war anti-Semitism gets a classy Blu-ray release.
A terrific, finely-tuned presentation of a landmark American movie, complete with flaming nipples, minus cackling audience members.
Digging further into the film raises many more questions than it answers, because as contrived and frail as the main “plot” sounds, it’s got nothing on the various B plots.
Paris, Texas may be missing a crucial piece of authentic Americana, but it still evokes an America most Americans yearn to gaze on.
Paris, Texas belongs to the rare tradition of American art that actually fills me with nostalgic love for the sleepy Southwest.
The series finale is about as audacious and ambitious a piece of television as I’ve ever seen.
To a real degree, I’m willing to give the show a lot of slack because it’s a story still in search of an ending.
I’ve speculated before that the show’s writers are interested in their mythology, but probably not as interested as their fans are.
Genre fiction requires the infodump.
The ensemble of players, above everything else, is what makes Battlestar Galactica come to life.