Category: DVD/BLU-RAY

1955's "The Indian Fighter" is one offering in a wave of Hollywood westerns where the concept wasn't to vilify Native American characters, but try to understand the concerns of the First Nation as it dealt with the terror of settlers. With star Kirk Douglas around, deeply felt sympathies aren't readily available, but the production at least makes an attempt to be gentle around cultural divides, delivering a story that's big on action and debate, but also wrestling with a love story that doesn't belong in the mix.  Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

It's important to watch 1921's "The Sheik" with awareness of its age. It's the film that brought star Rudolph Valentino to stratospheric heights of fame, greatly complicating his burgeoning career with an iconic display of matinee idol charisma. It's also a picture that carries an uneasy appreciation for Stockholm Syndrome-style romance, created during a time when such a union wasn't open season for 1,000 think pieces on big screen sexism. "The Sheik" is period escapism, and it mostly comes together thanks to Valentino and co-star Agnes Ayres, who manage to make a credible connection in a story that needs something a bit more than soapy romanticism to penetrate the senses.  Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

There's a long tradition of Hollywood melodramas, and there's always been an audience for them. However, 1958's "Marjorie Morningstar" takes considerable patience to sit through, working the subgenre in full with its depictions of shattered dreams, poisoned romances, and troubled families. An adaptation of a Herman Wouk novel, the feature does a reasonable job packing plot into two hours of screentime, but casting is often too odd to ignore, finding Gene Kelly fighting visible awkwardness as the 46-year-old actor tries to make believable magic with 20-year-old Natalie Wood. While the stars have been wonderful before, they fail to summon a proper pitch of melancholy to keep "Marjorie Morningstar" alert and appealingly sudsy. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com 

The good news is that Lee Van Cleef has come back for 1971's "Return of Sabata," picking up where he left off in the 1969 original, reclaiming the character's cold stare from Yul Brynner, who portrayed the gunslinger in 1970's "Adios, Sabata." Van Cleef's return is welcome, reuniting the squinty actor with one of his best roles, but the celebration is half-hearted at best, as "Return of Sabata," while retaining the Looney Tunes approach of the series, remains largely stuck in neutral, trying to cut through substantial exposition to find the fun again, taking far too long to get going.  Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

After the unexpected success of 1969's "Sabata," producers scrambled to put together a sequel, ready to cash in on a cult legend in the making. However, star Lee Van Cleef couldn't return to duty, necessitating a casting change to Yul Brynner, who's pretty much the polar opposite of Van Cleef in every way. However, this lead actor shake-up doesn't bring 1970's "Adios, Sabata" down, forcing director Gianfranco Parolini to rework the iconic nature of the titular character, who's presented as more of a matinee cowboy for his second outing, with Brynner showing more flair and care for costume fringes than Van Cleef would be comfortable with.  Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

1950's "Broken Arrow" has the distinction of being one of the first westerns to approach Native American characters with a degree of respect. It's a movie about tolerance set during one of the least tolerant times in American history, attempting to reexamine and reconfigure the traditional "Cowboys vs. Indians" simplification of history. Its ambition to rise above the competition is fascinating, giving "Broken Arrow" a boost in dramatic possibility, with director Delmer Daves (helming an adaptation of a Elliot Arnold novel) taking characterization as seriously as he can while still serving up elements of action and romance that act as comforting familiarity while the feature works to introduce new ideas of cultural awareness.  Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Part of the Republic Movie Serial factory, 1939's "Daredevils of the Red Circle" attempts a different approach to the creation of big screen heroes. Turning to the world of acrobatics to find a trio of men willing to put themselves in the line of fire to stop evil, the production finds an engaging starting point for action and adventure, following the exploits of characters who are accustomed to dangerous feats of survival. "Daredevils of the Red Circle" generally keeps up with serial interests in near-misses, silliness, and cheap suspense, but there's craftsmanship from directors William Witney and John English that impresses, keeping 12 chapters filled with cartoonish violence and villainy, occasionally broken up by charged encounters and canine courage. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com 

Movies about the Devil and Satanism became big business in 1970s, preying on fears of organized evil and spiritual corruption. The subgenre would really strike oil with 1973's "The Exorcist," which raised panic over unholy business to monumental levels, but it started small, with 1971's "The Mephisto Waltz" attempting to raise small-scale hell with its tale of manipulation and fantasy. Based on the Fred Mustard Stewart novel, the picture submits a rather complicated inspection of Satanic suspicion, making it alarmingly slow-going as director Paul Wendkos labors over details, not a greater flow of suspense. "The Mephisto Waltz" is more of a tempered look personal doom, requiring a general relaxation of expectations as the production tries to pore some psychedelic melt from the 1960s into a horror experience for a new decade of terror.  Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Today, we know director Roland Emmerich as a craftsman of Hollywood blockbusters, eagerly attempting to achieve massive success with big- budgeted fantasy actioners. He's had a rough period recently, guiding massive disappointments like "Independence Day: Resurgence" and "White House Down," but Emmerich appears to love the possibility of big screen scale, trying to make escapism with as much noise and stupidity as possible. However, he wasn't always like this, with 1985's "Making Contact" (a.k.a. "Joey") returning to a time in the helmer's early career when all he wanted to do was ape his creative inspiration, Steven Spielberg. Armed with enough homage to make Amblin Entertainment lawyers nervous, Emmerich sets out to create the best "E.T." and "Poltergeist" rip-off he can, using "Making Contact" to share as much Spielberg love as possible, shamelessly lifting every move from the maestro, down to cinematographic moves and the setting of suburban America. In true Emmerich fashion, he's made a spectacular mess of everything, and while his heart is in the right place, his filmmaking vision is cross-eyed at best, as little to nothing about this tedious feature makes any sense.  Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Imagine if Mike Leigh directed a Disney movie, and that's close to the viewing experience provided by 1973's "The Optimists." The production wins points for its interest in the bleak corners of life, trying to live up to its titular promise with a sincere take on relationships and broken dreams, watching director Anthony Simmons laboring to make some magic with lead Peter Sellers, asking him to lift considerable dramatic weight. It's difficult to label "The Optimists" as an all-ages charmer, but Simmons certainly wants it to be, aiming to achieve a bittersweet tone of connection in a hauntingly unforgiving world.  Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

A follow-up to the 1965 hit, "Those Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines," 1969's "The Daring Young Men in Their Jaunty Jalopies" (also known as "Monte Carlo or Bust!") looks to sustain a sense of widescreen pandemonium, taking a European car race to the extremes of slapstick comedy. Co-writer/director Ken Annakin certainly maintains a vision for the production, and his management of style and action is impressive, able to keep a ragtag group of characters in focus as they tear around multiple locations. But just over two hours of silly business? "Jaunty Jalopies" pushes its luck when it comes to asking the audience to endure a marathon of mischief. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com 

What a strange movie 1963's "Papa's Delicate Condition" is. It hopes to be a family feature, pitting star Jackie Gleason against a Disney-esque collection of children, animals, and stymied adults, but at the core of this dramedy is a study of alcoholism, with the title not referencing the lead character's desire to please, but his heavy drinking. Going from light to dark with whiplash-inducing speed, "Papa's Delicate Condition" doesn't necessarily challenge Gleason, who spends most of the picture playing up his industry persona, periodically reaching within to depict a sick man stuck in a cycle of reckless behavior.  Read the rest at Blu-ray.com 

Kevin Reynolds is a director worth defending in the Court of Cinema Elitists. He picked up a bad reputation with his work on 1995's "Waterworld," taking heat for his inability to keep an inherently chaotic shoot under control, and there have been a few stinkers during his career, including 1997's "187." But Reynolds, when offered a chance to spread his wings, can be a kinetic filmmaker with a terrific sense of action and adventure, marrying matinee derring-do with grittier visuals, finding efforts like 2002's "The Count of Monte Cristo" and 2012's "Hatfields & McCoys" enjoying their genres instead of merely participating in them, and there's 1991's "Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves," a wildly entertaining blockbuster that showcased the helmer's special way with period mayhem and romance, going big but remaining steady. Ingredients for another charging extravaganza are professionally portioned out for 2006's "Tristan & Isolde," but the picture has no flavor. Aspiring to be a love story for the ages, the feature is trapped between its mission to treat regional conflict with the severity it deserves and the production's hope to appeal to teenage viewers, soaping up a love triangle that holds no appeal. Instead of conquering another roughhouse tale of war, Reynolds is lost from the get-go, unable to reach his customary verve with this deathly dull endeavor.  Read the rest at Blu-ray.com 

It's hard to fault "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg" director Jacques Demy for attempting his own take on the legend of the Pied Piper. And there's certainly a pronounced dark side to most fairy tales, providing a creative challenge. However, it's difficult to grasp what audience Demy is hoping to reach with this 1972 effort. "The Pied Piper" isn't truly for children, but the production has moments of broad behavior, and the casting of rock star Donovan in the titular role appears engineered to reach a young audience. But the rest of "The Pied Piper" is quite bleak, though fascinatingly staged by Demy who respects elements from the original tale, trying to remain as faithful as possible while arranging his own special black plague costume party.  Read the rest at Blu-ray.com 

Jerry Lewis is about as "your mileage may vary" an actor as they come, either seducing or repelling audiences with his practiced mugging, pratfalls, and penchant for exaggerating comedic situations. While in possession of a wildly uneven filmography, Lewis seems relatively fresh and invested for 1959's "Don't Give Up the Ship," which is one of his early solo efforts. Eager to please and willing to try out some unusual locations for screen mischief, Lewis is appealingly committed to the picture, which doesn't always match his energy levels.  Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Ernest Hemingway's novel, "A Farewell to Arms," is a tough nut to crack. It carries tremendous solemnity and personal experience, giving it an open wound atmosphere that makes it an intimate read with a gut-punch ending. Producer David O. Selznick attempts to turn Hemingway's horror into a new version of "Gone with the Wind," inflating love and war to a point where the original meaning of the book is lost. Melodramatic and in need of another editorial pass, 1957's "A Farewell to Arms" certainly provides beguiling bigness, but the enormity of the production manages to smother literary intent.  Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

1983's "Double Exposure" attempts to cash in on the rise of sexually-minded thrillers, following the lead of Brian De Palma's work from the era, though writer/director William Byron Hillman doesn't share the same flair for screen style and gonzo plotting. While the feature is far from tasteful, there's a certain stability to the effort that doesn't boost its desire to be a chiller that toys with psychological fracture and ghoulish murder sequences, with Hillman holding most of his attention on tepid characterization, which doesn't unleash frights. "Double Exposure" is best appreciated in select scenes where insanity takes over, watching Hillman attempt to visualize oddball plans for homicide, and there's a defined exploitation atmosphere to the picture that keeps it salacious enough to pass. However, when considering what Hillman is trying to accomplish here, it's bizarre to watch the endeavor slow down to smell the roses when there's significant B-movie work to be done.  Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

From 1948, "The Scar" (originally titled "Hollow Triumph") takes its plotting very seriously. It's no romp with crooks and cops, but a strange, vaguely "Twilight Zone"-ish journey of a stolen identity that winds through complications that touch on romance and paranoia. Star Paul Henreid (who also produces) assumes command of the feature's uneasy tone, working well with director Steve Sekely, who constructs a noir playground of shadows and danger while sustaining a screenplay (written by Daniel Fuchs, who adapts a novel by Murray Forbes) that's restless, continually redefining the stakes to maintain surprise. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Full disclosure: I've never seen 1989's "Psycho Cop." I've never even heard of it, making the prospect of reviewing its 1993 sequel, "Psycho Cop Returns," daunting. Genre fans are a passionate bunch, and they want their film writers prepared and informed, but here's a unique situation where the follow-up doesn't really need an initial chapter to make sense, as the tone it's pursuing is so broad, so cartoonish, that there's only one thing to know before a viewing: There's a cop, and he's a psycho. My apologies to those looking for a direct comparison between the pictures, but I'm guessing most who come to "Psycho Cop Returns" are probably new to the brand name as well, playing an easy game of catch-up with an endeavor that's not about adding to the ongoing saga of a vicious, Satan-worshiping police imposter, but offering a smorgasbord of wild comedy, squealing characters, gore, nudity, and mayhem throughout a single setting. It's not franchise algebra, but a funky, cartwheeling B-movie from director Adam Rifkin (billed here as "Rif Coogan"), who's obsessed with creating as much chaos a low budget endeavor can support.  Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Before there were entire cable networks devoted to every corner of the natural world, there was 1996's "Microcosmos." What a kid could do now with a cell phone camera and some decent lighting took three years of production for directors Claude Nuridsany and Marie Perennou, who worked carefully to follow the lives of insects on their home turf, using special cinematography to detail every fluttering wing, crooked antennae, and wiggly body they could find. Using the footage to shape a highly artistic vision of, ahem, a bug's life, the helmers achieve a cinematic miracle with "Microcosmos," assembling a riveting, hypnotic valentine to the misunderstood members of Earth. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com