Russell’s film, gorgeous as a landscape painting, explicit as the Kinsey Report, gets an essential Blu-ray upgrade.
Throughout, everything blurs together into a frenzy of outrageous emotions and hysterical behavior.
The film makes its Blu-ray debut with a clean, colorful transfer from Lionsgate’s recently inaugurated Vestron Video Collector’s Series imprint.
Despite an inconsistent video transfer, Russell’s lascivious neo-noir gets a fine Blu-ray from Arrow Video.
Russell’s bracing film gets a solid, if unspectacular, transfer (and little in the way of extras) from Kino Lorber.
Instead of understanding the femme fatale as a genre staple, Grossman wants to dispense of the characterization altogether.
Russell’s kinetic head trip about the dangers of scientific self-indulgence comes to high definition in a forgettable package.
The slender facts in this particular case can’t even begin to withstand the mammoth weight of a 150-minute running time.
Mandy of his films are obsessed with fragility of sexless marriages crumbling under siege from illicit passion.
The most obvious Reagan-era reference here is Ken Russell’s 1984 sex thriller Crimes of Passion.
Mr. Nice has a number of lively moments that suggest a comedy of the inevitablity of radicals selling out.
Regardless of what you may think of Ken Russell’s movies, the English iconoclast filmmaker is without doubt a true original.
John Malkovich practically spits glitter as he throws himself into a grating gay impersonation.
Despite its classification as a rock ‘n’ roll mockumentary, Keith Fulton and Louis Pepe’s Brothers of the Head is of a markedly different stripe than Spinal Tap.
Cheap effects and gratuitous displays of nudity only heighten the film’s delirious demeanor.