Damn, got it in just under the wire. Man, I don't know how Christgau did it, month after month, for so many years. Fewer titles this month and probably fewer next month, if I'm gonna keep this up month to month. We'll see. In any event, enjoy. Equipment: Playstation 3 console and Oppo BDP 83 were the players, Panasonic Viera TC-P50S30 the display, Pioneer Elite VSX-817 AV the amp.
L’Age d’Or/Un Chien Andalou (BFI U.K. import, Region B locked)
It’s kind of odd that these two still-galvanic classics of surrealism in cinema are now by and large, as far as I can tell, perceived as objects for study rather than, you know, “real” movies; for me they’re still aesthetic touchstones and Age in particular a great hoot. So of course I was looking forward to this package with GREAT anticipation and I was not disappointed. Age looks largely great, although its restoration does show off its rough edges; startling and innovative as it is, it’s not the most consistently technically proficient film in spots (it’s worth remembering that it is, in a sense, almost an underground film). On the other hand, some crucial sequences (the ball scene) authentically/convincingly reproduce studio artifice and work, pastiche-wise, precisely as must have been intended. Cinema doesn’t get more essential than this, and I’ve never seen better presentations of either film. —A+
Animal House (Universal)
A different kind of essential cinema, to be sure, but in a certain sense not that different. Among other things, this is a genuinely impolite and impolitic movie; its rather authentic-seeming mean-spiritedness (only slightly ameliorated by the cutesy “where-they-are-now” coda—which in itself isn’t all that cutesy in the larger scheme of such things) puts the sentimentality of most contemporary “edgy” comedies in what they call bold relief. Never the most visually beautiful of motion picture experience, it looks just fine here, although on certain of the picture settings of my new plasma display, the flesh tones look a little flushed. Hard to say if this is a function of the transfer or actually has to do with the cinematography/film stock but I’d actually guess the latter. This doesn’t look like it’s been screwed-around with digitally all that much. Nifty. —A
Battle Beyond The Stars (Shout Factory)
This rendering of Roger Corman’s biggest-budgeted production is both handsome and dinky! The cheap entertainment value extends to the cheesy effects and the 1980 haircuts and so much more. Even if you’re not a student of Corman practices, the solid, Seven-Samurai-derived story and snappy direction make this good popcorny fare, and the materials are clean and very nicely digitized. The set and lighting design presents an object lesson in how blue and green gels make everything look cooler and more “futuristic,” and these refracted hues come across with no video noise or nothing. The Shout! Factory Blus of the “Roger Corman Presents” series are, admittedly, a bit on the pricey side, but with respect to quality they do deliver. You’re gonna see more and more of this as Blu-ray grows even more long-tail in its market appeal, alas. —A
Beauty and the Beast (Criterion)
One of the reasons Criterion are the good guys of home video is their habit of updating already-released 
editions of their library when better materials/transfers arise. This Blu-ray represents the company’s third version of Cocteau’s ever-amazing 1946 picture, as exemplary and transportive and haunting a filmed fairy tale as ever was, and it is entirely remarkable and beautiful. It is, for all intents and purposes, merely a high-def upgrade of the second edition that was released in standard def in 2003, but the boost in detail is noticeable, and regardless of what you think of the Phillip Glass opera offered as an alternate soundtrack (it was written to sync up to the film, and FYI, I quite enjoy it), the 5.1 surround on that puppy is just exquisite. Overall, beautiful, a really wonderful way to experience a picture that just never gets old. —A+
The Blues Brothers (Universal)
Animal House did so well that Universal appears to have given director John Landis the key to the studio, or at least its garage, to concoct this
low modernist ode slapstick car chases and classic R&B. Again, the genuine rudeness of much of the comedy is kind of bracing. As for the Blu-ray quality, it’s solid. As with Animal House, we have some noticeably flush flesh tones, in this case it seems a combination of the cinematography, display settings, and somewhat more noticeable digital manipulation than on the Animal House DVD. Like fried ice cream, digital manipulation is a reality, and it’s not going away, so we might as well meet it on its own terms. I didn’t find it all that noticeable or egregious in terms of “viewing experience” here, so if you’re a fan of the film this is a buy-with-relative-confidence call. —A
Boudu Saved From Drowning (Park Circus U.K. import, Region B locked)
Renoir in high-def is a potential home-vid trend I can totally get behind. This version of his 1932 celebration of being a filthy slob (okay, not really…okay, kind of…) is compelling evidence in support of such a thing. 
Pictures such as this and 1935’s Toni are why some will insist that Renoir was the father of what many call neo-realism, as well as everything else good in cinema. Anticipating both Rossellini and Godard (and many others, but bear with me here; these are capsule reviews), he took the camera out of the studio and into the streets, the better to capture “real” life and its attendant behaviors (not just human behaviors, either; the way Renoir holds a shot of Boudu’s dog at the water in the Bois is, as you’ll see, an emblem of his genius.) The views of Paris don’t just have a documentary vividness here; they’re simply gorgeous. In fact the outdoor sequences are sharper than the soundstage bound ones in many cases; you get a little more diffusion/softness in the interior scenes, particularly in the medium close-ups. In any event, while skimpy on the extras (that is, there's a trailer), this is as a whole a really special disc. —A
Buster Keaton: The Short Films Collection (Kino Lorber)
Nifty. This presents 19 solo shorts by il miglior fabro, not just a performer of genius but as great and crucial a director as Griffith or Eisenstein or Feiullade or Godard. In what I believe to be a first, four of them, all personal favorites (including “The High Sign”) are included in both untampered-with (relatively) and digitally enhanced versions, which latter have noise reduction tech addressing all manner of scratches and other kinds of damage. Very considerate, I think, and honestly the digital cleanup on the enhanced versions makes for a cleaner viewing without ruining the look of the silent-era material. As for the rest…well, these are Keaton shorts. Even without the generous and pleasurable supplements, there’d be no excuse not to own ‘em. —A+
Conan the Barbarian/Conan The Destroyer (Universal)
Early on in the first Conan title, I got a little worried at the stark contrast of rear projection and foregrounded characters in a scene; “Yeesh,” thought I, “is this gonna be a botch in the tradition of Uni’s ungodly Out of Africa?” But no—that’s kinda how it looked in the movie, I surmised, because the rest of John Milius’s Robert E. Howard/Marvel Comics adaptation—which looks as stately-paced by comparison to today’s “comic book” pictures as a, um, Tarkovsky film—has a lot of what they call “good grain” and doesn’t come off as having been digitally cleaned up to death. As a film it turns out on revisiting to be pretty damn satisfying in its anachronistic way, although the question “Why is that snake wearing a hat,” asked by my wife as she passed by the set at a crucial point in the film, remains troubling. Primo cheese for sure, and the subsequent Destroyer is cheesier still, its initial effect of Valeria in flames a rather charming relic of the unconvincing appeal of the now more or less optical effect. In some respects Destroyer is even more visually “impressive” than Barbarian but for sure it’s also an even goofier movie. Both of these will more than satisfy any high-def Vintage Arnold jones you’ve been nursing. —A
Cul de Sac (Criterion)
“A film to reflect our taste at the time,” director Roman Polanski says (in an interview included as a supplement here) of his 1966 followup to the staggering Repulsion. It’s a sufficiently unyielding enterprise that some might argue that the verb in that sentence ought to be changed to “indulge” for accuracy’s sake. In many respects this deceptively austere exercise in cinematic acrobatics is a tough Beckettian sit, but in the right cranky mood it’s a tonic, and this is an absolutely gorgeous rendition, the oft sickly gray scale of Gilbert Taylor’s cinematography getting a genuinely staggering presentation. Extras are sparse but well put-together and well presented. A must for Polanski junkies—I’m one—and a calculated gamble for everyone else. Even so, I give it an…—A+
Deep End (BFI U.K. import, Region B locked)
Long-buried films such as Jerzy Skolimowski’s 1967 1970 British production acquire such an underground reputation during the period when they’re incredibly difficult to see that they more often than not disappoint when they’re finally made accessible. This, I am delighted to report, 
is not even close to the case here. Deep End still packs a wallop; assuredly creepy and funny from the very beginning, with Diana Dors’ cra-zay-zy paean to footballer Georgie Best likely to be the convincer for you if you’re not immediately sucked in. London doesn’t “swing” in this movie; it roils with sexual tension and dribbles and jerks with sexual repression and aggression. One senses that it had a pronounced influence on Taxi Driver, and a less pronounced but very real influence on Rushmore. And it looks incredible, which is another thing about such long-buried pictures; it’s also kind of amazing when they turn up looking so great. Great extras, too.— A+
The Egyptian (Twilight Time)
In the exciting tradition of MICHAEL CURTIZ IN WIDESCREEN, only it’s not that exciting a tradition, because poor Mr. C. didn’t quite figure how to adapt his ever-engaging baroque visual styles to Cinemascope dimensions. Dave Kehr detailed the ways in which the format kind of 
hogtied Curtiz in his typically perceptive and acute review of this pricey disc. And as much as his points are well-taken, I still find this to be a fascinating film visually, particularly in the way Curtiz falls back on DeMillean tableaux of Eisensteinean human triptychs when he’s stuck for a composition. And every now and again, particularly when there’s a reflective surface to be seen, a hint of the old-style Curtiz magic makes itself known. As for the disc itself, it’s the first Blu-ray venture for Twilight Time, a slightly Olive-esque concern making disc space for titles that Fox can’t be bothered to put out itself. Apparently the studio itself was responsible for the high-def master of this, and commissioned the excellent commentary from James Ursini and Alain Silver. In any event the picture is beautiful but also kinda soft in parts, hard to tell if it’s the transfer or having to do with early Cinemascope and lens issues. One senses the transfer could have been a bit better, but this is NOT a fake high-def rendition. The colors are VERY strong throughout, and they’re like half the movie. I’m looking forward to revisiting this peculiar melodrama as the weather gets cooler; it’s that kind of movie comfort food. —A
High and Low (Criterion)
Kurosawa in widescreen black and white (and, in this case, a couple of plumes of pink smoke) is always a kick in the head. 
This high-def upgrade of a Criterion classic looks real nice and crisp, displays good grain. This epic crime drama starring Toshiro Mifune as a bullheaded shoe manufacturer dealing with a kidnapping underscored for me, on this rewatching, that very often Kurosawa’s signal strength as a filmmaker is his LACK of subtlety (as in the on-the-nose bit early on where Mifune’s character instructs a couple of kids on how to properly play cowboy) combined with an innate security in just how far he can push the emotion or sentiment or even sentimentality (although this is absolutely one of his least sentimental pictures) of given scene. In this respect he’s very CLASSICAL Hollywood (Ford, McCarey, etc.). He’s also not afraid to be epic…although it’s worth noting that for all intents and purposes this film doesn’t leave its first set for nearly an hour; anyway, who else then or now had the stones to do that? A very, very rich picture, in an exemplary edition. — A+
The Killing (Criterion)
Interesting how young Kubrick the precocious master technician embraced in 1956 the notions that were soon to be adopted by the somewhat more emotional nouvelle vague a few years down the road, particularly with respect to realism in location shooting and stuff. Not quite a noir, not quite a procedural, this magnificently intricate and brisk heist picture exhibits mordant daring in some of its themes—a first-time viewer was kind of blown away by the blatancy of Jay C. Flippen’s man-love for Sterling Hayden—and is also a great source of Lucien Ballard black-and-white shooting, which this disc gets like nobody’s business. Incredible. And incredible extras. The French television interview with Hayden is particularly incredible. And oh so sad. —A+
Leon Morin, Priest (Criterion)
I wrote of the film in 2007: “Melville's shooting-on-the-fly methods, use of actual locations, and inventive but hardly stately visual style all influenced the Nouvelle Vague, and the Nouvelle Vague influenced him in turn, as 1962's Occupation-set Leon Morin, Pretre, shows. 
The freedom Godard and Truffaut and others insisted on seems to have emboldened Melville a bit in that here there's more of the liberty-taking he showed younger filmmakers. A scene of young children preparing for mass is done in a series of quick dissolves. The use of once-seemingly outmoded visual devices that were joyously revived by the New Wavers is more pronounced, e.g. the optical wipe; some scenes last mere seconds; and so on. That said, this is one of Melville's quietest and most dialogue-heavy films, consisting largely of conversations between the title priest and a young atheist widow (Emmanuelle Riva, of Hiroshima mon Amour) about the nature of God and faith. Leon Morin is not the kind of Father today's Vatican would approve, what with his talk of "a larger Church" than the Catholic one. Melville's casting of Jean-Paul Belmondo in the title role was a piece of counterintuitive genius; having established himself as a supremely ironical performer in Godard's A Bout de Souffle, here he is asked to portray a paragon of sincerity. Belmondo's seemingly innate amiability enables him to do so without coming off in the slightest bit pompous. It's a remarkable performance.” If that sells you on the film—and I hope it does, because as “uncharacteristic” a Melville work as it could seem to some on the surface, it’s entirely key to the rest of his work—then this is the edition to see it in. —A+
Life During Wartime (Criterion)
Yikes! Full digital from camera to intermediary to filming out back to disc (compressed of course), so whatcha want? It is a beautiful picture that also gives you the sense of what we’re giving up by going fully digital—the PHYSICAL quality of it. It’s almost like there’s a layer MISSING. It isn’t so much the lack of scratches, but the lack of the possibility of scratches. It’s quite interesting and a little disquieting. As for the content, I liked, and dealt with it here. —A
Monamour (Cult Epics)
More softcore filth from the fine folks at Cult Epics. Ah, Tinto Brass; in manners “erotic,” he’s the honest man’s Michael Bay. 
I like the way he dollies in—no cheap zooms for him!—far further than to merely the crack of his lead actress’s butt. Tasteful. Hard to believe this was made in 2006, it plays EXACTLY like Paprika or whatever the hell the last Brass movie I looked at plays like…was it Cheeky!? WAS there even a Brass movie called Paprika?... Then again, what do I know, a lot of the Brass fans in the IMDB comments feel this is just a retread, and the newbies weren’t’ impressed either, to wit: “There was no erotic, no thriller and no plot at all, just a poor actress committed to an old mans [sic] chauvinistic fantasies.” . “It is another movie full of Brass obsessions like hungry voluptuous women, impatient to be sodomized, to be unfaithful, to go with everyone but not their husbands.” Boy you say that like there’s something wrong with it. In other news, prosthetic penises look more prosthetic in high def. And said lead actress, one Anna Jimskaia, IS pretty easy on the eyes. And the image quality is reasonably snazzy. But people who tolerate your Radley Metzger advocacy won’t look so kindly on this item, I guarantee you. —B
The Music Room (Criterion)
I’ll admit it—I’m so far behind on my Satyajit Ray knowledge that for me to beat my chest about how his work is criminally underrepresented on DVD would be almost disingenuous. Suffice it to say that I’m very happy this version of his 1958 film exists. It’s a wonderful picture. Materials were clearly in rough shape (check out the scratches in the opening sequence) Sometimes the roughness is such that this almost registers as a document of the film rather than the film itself (c.f. L’Age d’Or). But there’s incredible detail in the transfer, and as the damage subsides, the cinematic storytelling takes over. Speaking of Buñuel, the lighting often resembles that of some of Buñuel’s Mexican films. Ray’s shooting style here is very straightforward but not lacking in verve. An object lesson in both universality and cultural specificity, with extensive and illuminating extras. Can I say with confidence that it’s an excellent and engaging entry point into Ray’s world? I think so. —A+
Naked (Criterion)
These subtitles are helpful, aren’t they? Mike Leigh’s controversial 1993 film is in English, British English yet, but so variously clipped and slurred and elided and grogged that, yeah, the subs are nearly as essential as they are on The Harder They Come. Also: It’s entirely appropriate that every person and every décor here looks like shit. The grey walls. The characters’ flesh tones almost uniformly alcoholically flush. Even the chicken chomped by Greg Crutwell’s ultimate yuppie scum Jeremy is incredibly nasty looking. Never before has such an unstitnting devotion to delivering high-def ugliness been manifested with such unfailing integrity. In all other respects, e.g. supplements, a repro of the standard def edition. So it gets an A rather than an A+ on account of being not quite such an event. —A
The Romantic Englishwoman (Kino Lorber)
A really scintillating Joseph Losey ‘70s picture, a followup of sorts to the sublime The Go-Between but altogether more odd and idiosyncratic and not quite as perfectly turned...and all the more intriguing for that. Another obscure item that kind of knocks you out of the box with its picture quality right off; Gerry Fisher, who also lensed Go-Between, shoots here, and his work with reflective surfaces at the very beginning testifies to a near-casual mastery. The aspect ratio here is 1.66,not 1.85 as is claimed on the box. And as is specified on the IMDB tech page. But I have to say it looks entirely fine and proper in 1.66, which as we know was maybe not an entirely uncommon ratio in Europe at the time and…aaaiieee. No, seriously, it looks fine and proper and is a Losey freak’s dream acquisition, or one of them.—A
The Sacrifice (Kino Lorber)
Beautiful…just the very first three shots, that is, the film’s first fifteen minutes…it’s just wonderful the way the opening shot starts out so gray and overcast and as man and boy walk home from the water’s edge the colors of even their clothing bloom and blossom. I didn’t find the slight edge enhancement as distracting as the reviewer at DVD Beaver did, to be honest. The soundtrack is also aces, I think, very nuanced and tricky, telling so very much of this odd story in and of itself. What I DID notice very much this time around was the post-sync dialogue,, particularly in the case of British actress Susan Fleetwood, who I can now see is saying her lines in English. As Tarkovsky in high-def goes, it’s the second such item, and in terms of quality I’d say it’s a relatively close second to Criterion’s great Solaris. —A
Sands of the Kalihari (Olive)
Very nice, the best-looking Olive Blu-ray I’ve seen, I think, and completely bereft of the soundtrack modulation issues that plagued the two Olive Blus I reviewed in July. Cy Endfield’s nasty and tense 1965 plane-crash-survival potboiler-with-brains is tense and terse and engrossing enough to have earned its cult. ”A brutal critique of American self-interest in a Third World context,” Jonathan Rosenbaum posits; also, I might add, the first and last time Stuart Whitman was asked to represent American self-interest. It never looks anything less than solid, and the twilight shots of wherever it is the charter plane that’s gonna crash is taking off from are just gorgeous. The swarm of locusts looks laughably phony, but the "actual" smashing locusts and their inner essences and guano are effectively gross. As are the primates, both the talking and screeching varieties.—A
Non Blu-ray related Landis note: Earlier this year at the New Beverly-Edgar Wright festival Landis appeared at the AMERICAN GRAFFITI-ANIMAL HOUSE double bill. I wasn't there that night but apparently he turned up early to watch GRAFFITI which he hadn't seen for years. Afterwards, in addition to having to explain to the mostly twentysomething crowd the significance of Richard Dreyfuss living 'in Canada' said that he was so moved after revisiting the film for the first time in decades that he felt kind of bad for spoofing the 'where-they-are-now' ending in his own film.
Blu-ray related Landis note: The Trailers From Hell Blog recently had a posting where he talked about the releases of both films. He said that at first the transfer for ANIMAL HOUSE looked too nice, "like a Doris Day movie! I made them put the grain and darken all of the shots they had “restored” incorrectly. It now looks great, but the technician kept writing “Image Degraded per Director” in his shot log!" As for THE BLUES BROTHERS, "The BluRay does justice to the great photography of DP Steven Katz."
Suddenly I feel kind of embarrassed that I don't have anything to say about CUL-DE-SAC. I really need to finally see that film.
Posted by: Mr. Peel | August 31, 2011 at 11:28 PM
I must agree with you (and I am sure you have been anxiously awaiting my approval) on Deep End. The film looks and sounds gorgeous.
I cannot wait to get and watch The Egyptian.
Posted by: Kevyn Knox | September 01, 2011 at 12:28 AM
Mr. Peel: The thing is that Landis told that exact same anecdote (right down to the "Image Degraded per Director" bit) about the 2003 DVD reissue. My assumption is that Universal has reused that transfer for the new Blu-ray, and that while Landis may have supervised the transfer, he didn't necessarily supervise the Blu-ray encode -- in fact I'd say it's almost obvious he didn't, or at any rate missed the DNR and sharpening that Universal have applied, which weren't present at all on the HD DVD. But then this is Universal's MO (see Apollo 13, The Thing, or The Big Lebowski for other examples). Of course most folks either passed on HD DVD or haven't held onto their players, so if it's not an option then the BDs are still "better than the DVD" (sigh).
Posted by: The Fanciful Norwegian | September 01, 2011 at 06:07 AM
Nice to know that John Landis feels bad about ... well, something, anyway.
Posted by: Stephen Bowie | September 01, 2011 at 07:16 AM
"L'Age d'O," "High and Low," "Deep End," and "The Killing" are musts. "Leon Morin" is interesting if you're into French Catholicism.
"The Egyptian" is fascinating for Zanuck's efforts at turning his mistress du jour, Bella Darvi, into a star.
Edmund Purdom is a lox.
Posted by: David Ehrenstein | September 01, 2011 at 11:06 AM
Essential reading!
Posted by: Owain Wilson | September 01, 2011 at 01:50 PM
"the first and last time Stuart Whitman was asked to represent American self-interest." Believe it or not, no. Have you not seen the utter derangement that is the film version of Norman Mailer's "An American Dream"? I saw that for the first time this year and am still trying to kick it out of my head.
Posted by: Stephen Winer | September 01, 2011 at 03:43 PM
I thought "Kalahari" reeked my own self. If that's a brutal critique, no wonder American self-interest is doing so well.
Glenn, if you haven't seen Ray's "Days and Nights in the Forest", you've got a treat in store. It's easily available on disc and it's just a mother.
Hey...and VIGO.
Posted by: Tom Block | September 01, 2011 at 04:02 PM
Waiting on Vigo. Very eager.
Stephen: Good catch! Despite the title, I always think of that character's attitude and predicament as endemically '60s New York, but you're absolutely right. Funny.
Posted by: Glenn Kenny | September 01, 2011 at 05:27 PM
I've got AN AMERICAN DREAM sitting on the DVR, waiting for me to watch it. Does that mean I should?
Also, Glenn, jesus, man, nice work here.
Posted by: Bilge | September 01, 2011 at 06:36 PM
Me and my chums are enjoying - maybe enjoying isn't the right word - an occasional season of films on blu-ray at my house which goes under the name 'Dodgy Sci-Fi And Fantasy Films Of The 70s And 80s'.
So far we've watched Krull, Flash Gordon (actually not dodgy in the slightest), and Battle Beyond The Stars. We had very fond memories of the latter film and were very much looking forward to seeing it again after many years. It has much going for it (James Horner's score, that Viking woman's eye-popping costume and the terrific 'ga-ga-goinnnggg!' laser sound effect to name a few) but we were sad to find that it was a really tough watch, man.
Posted by: Owain Wilson | September 01, 2011 at 06:52 PM
Bilge,
By all means watch "An American Dream". It is so outrageous that it puts "Valley of the Dolls" and perhaps even "The Oscar" to shame. I promise that whatever the film does to you (and I am not responsible for any film-related medical emergencies) you will not be bored! Bewitched, bothered and bewildered but definitely not bored.
Posted by: Stephen Winer | September 01, 2011 at 11:37 PM
Wasn't DEEP END from 1970?
Also nearly three years, my local public library system thought that it would be a great idea to get rid of all its VHS videos, which means I can no longer see CHARULATA. Madhabi Mukherjee: there is one actress badly served by DVD.
Posted by: Partisan | September 02, 2011 at 02:13 AM
Indeed, 1970. (These things hardly ever go up without at least one typo, alas.) Couldn't be '67, there was no Can then...
Posted by: Glenn Kenny | September 02, 2011 at 07:06 AM
I like that Can is credited as "The Can" in the "Deep End" credits...
Posted by: NRH | September 02, 2011 at 10:50 AM
I don't know if it's a Universal thing. Fast Times at Ridgemont High is Uni, and they didn't do a damn thing to clean it up -- it's so grainy it's punk. Even the chrome title at the beginning is dirty instead of polished.
Transfers can even vary in a single collection. Why does Raising Arizona look astonishing in the new Coens collection while Miller's Crossing has DNR softness to it (made worse by the shallow-focus photography)?
Still nothing looks worse than Ran.
Posted by: Mr. Milich | September 02, 2011 at 05:42 PM
It may have been made in 1970 but it was released in 1971
Posted by: David Ehrenstein | September 02, 2011 at 10:03 PM
I can't believe how good L'age d'Or and Un Chien Andalou look - about a thousand times better than their North American standard def counterparts.
Posted by: michaelgsmith | September 03, 2011 at 02:08 PM