Category: DVD/BLU-RAY

Just what does one do with Martin Kove? I'm sure this was a question Hollywood was wrestling with during the 1980s, trying to make sense of Kove's ascendance to screen villainy in "The Karate Kid," where the actor made a tremendous impression on audiences, fueling the film's masterful way with climatic payoff. But could he carry an entire endeavor with such intensity? After decades in television and supporting parts in features, 1987's "Steele Justice" was Kove's hour of power, gifted a Rambo-esque revenge thriller that offered the star a chance to emote, destroy, and snarl, trying to fit in with the decade's generation of action heroes. Kove is game, committed to his character and the production's vision for citywide violence, but "Steele Justice" is one incredibly goofy picture. A B-movie that doesn't make much time for logic, the effort crashes through cliché and absurdity, building up a rhythm of roughhousing that showcases Kove's masculinity and writer/director Robert Boris's imagination for mayhem. It's not good work, but it does work with lowered expectations.  Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

When director Martin Ritt and actress Sally Field collaborated in 1979, the result was "Norma Rae," a penetrating drama about one woman's personal awakening. When Ritt and Field reteamed in 1981, the result was "Back Roads," which effectively ruined all the goodwill "Rae" created, tarnishing the production's post-Oscar-winning glow. While Ritt's helmed his share of disappointments, nothing has been quite as misguided as "Back Roads," which does everything wrong in terms of thespian charm and narrative momentum, striving to generate romantic comedy butterflies with a sobering story of failure. Perhaps enamored with the potential to mount a road movie featuring two busted-but-not-broken characters striving to share their hearts of gold with each other, Ritt loses touch with the essentials of personality, conflict, and storytelling, unable to guide the effort as stars Field and Tommy Lee Jones share what's politely called "negative chemistry," visibly looking like they'd rather be anywhere else but in this film. It's difficult to blame them. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

After building a name for himself with low-budget films such as "Goodbye Solo" and "Man Push Cart," writer/director Ramin Bahrani graduated to more high-profile fare with 2013's "At Any Price," starring Dennis Quaid and Zac Efron. A tale of farmland woe and family sin, the feature was a melodramatic disaster, punishing audiences with ridiculously broad performances and absurd writing. Bahrani recovers a bit of his old mojo with "99 Homes," which surveys the state of the nation in 2010 as it deals with a ruined housing market and destitute owners. It's a movie about the acid burn of morality in the face of financial reward, and Bahrani has the right idea during the picture's early moments, which pinpoint the shame, horror, and emotional violence of eviction in a deeply disturbing manner. The rest of "99 Homes" doesn't reach the same level of authenticity, finding Bahrani returning to old habits as subtlety is replaced by opera, ruining the primal scream of the effort. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

In his 1994 production, "Baseball," director Ken Burns set aside time to explore the career of Jackie Robinson and his influences on the sport and national race relations. There was no room for an in-depth examination of Jackie's life and times, with his experience largely detailed in suspect bio-pics (like the recent "42") and periodic interviews before his death in 1972. Championed by his widow, Rachel, "Jackie Robinson" allows Burns and his team (including co-directors Sarah Burns and David McMahon) a chance to take in an entire life, offering a four-hour documentary that tracks Jackie from birth to death and beyond, highlighting his famous sporting dominance, racial unease, and eventual experience away from the baseball diamond. It's a long journey, but as always with Burns and Co., it's incredibly informative and smoothly assembled, permitting a new opportunity to see Jackie Robinson as he was: a man, not a stoic superhero.  Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Released during the blur of teen cinema in the 1980s, "Secret Admirer" often plays like an effort from the 1940s. While R-rated and periodically raunchy, co-writer/director David Greenwalt infuses the feature with unexpected good taste, laboring to find an alternative way to play up shenanigans featuring horny teens without giving in to the habits of the subgenre. Not that "Secret Admirer" is a film fit for the entire family, but I've never encountered a picture about sex that was so afraid to mention the word "sex" when detailing a few amorous escapades, almost going out of its way to deny salacious details. Lacking invention but agreeably acted, the movie invests entirely in misunderstandings, more interested in the potential for a farce than a true inspection of virgin confusion. Greenwalt has the chance to do something special with the material, but his timing is stiff, his writing dull, and his lead character absurdly unappealing.  Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

1984's "Beat Street" was supposed to be the major breakdancing movie hit of the summer, only to find its thunder stolen by Cannon Films, who rushed "Breakin'" into theaters earlier in the season, capturing the hearts and allowance money of American teenagers hunting for a cinematic representation of the body-quaking fad. While "Breakin'" was a cartoon, "Beat Street" endeavors to represent the soul of hip hop culture, offering a more sobering take on battling gangs, the achievement of lofty dreams, and the reality of poverty in the big city. It's still semi-comical stuff, but the feature is more interested in characterization, putting its collection of dancers, artists, and DJs through an emotional obstacle course that's only broken up by extended displays of acrobatic moves.  Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Supercop cinema heads to the Great White North in "Shadows in an Empty Room," a 1976 production directed by Alberto De Martino ("The Pumaman"). Taking intrigue and murder to the rough streets of Quebec, the picture has a certain cultural point of view to keep it engaging, offering a mystery populated with restrained, almost polite participants. The helmer strives to keep the feature eventful and, at times, horrific, and for those who enjoy their police adventures with real bite, "Shadows in an Empty Room" supplies an enormous amount of crashing and smashing to fill up its run time, with De Martino more committed to the essentials of bodily harm than the nuances of a whodunit. And thank goodness for that. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Arriving in 1978, "Crazylegs Crane" represents the other end of the quality spectrum for DePatie-Freleng Enterprises, who offer 16 shorts of fumbled comedy and aggressive voicework with saga of a bird and a dragonfly mixing it up on a daily basis. Even with lowered expectations for television animation from the 1970s, "Crazylegs Crane" tests patience with its unadventurous storytelling and slack sense of humor, content to rework select gags repeatedly, with only the rare moment of oddity arriving to wake the series up. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Marshall Brickman is perhaps best known for his collaborations with Woody Allen, co-scripting efforts such as "Sleeper," "Manhattan," "Manhattan Murder Mystery," and the Academy Award-winning "Annie Hall." It's an impressive resume, but Brickman's directorial output isn't quite as stunning, encountering rough creative seas with 1980's "Simon" and 1983's "Lovesick." 1986's "The Manhattan Project" may not be a towering achievement of cinematic craftsmanship, but it's the best thing Brickman helmed during his career, guiding an exciting and idiosyncratic thriller that played into the nuclear fears of the era (unfortunately, little of that has faded away in our current volatile age) while remaining an effective teen-centric offering, investing in smart characters and complex situations. "The Manhattan Project" isn't above a dramatic manipulation or two, but it carries confidently, trying to explore a real-world scenario of human fallibility and intelligence, with Brickman working to achieve a nail-biting tone to preserve the escapist qualities within this sobering film. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Brooksfilm is the company Mel Brooks created to help develop personal projects, helping them through the Hollywood system. The quality of these efforts varied wildly, but 1986 was a particularly volatile year for the company, which welcomed the release of "The Fly," arguably one of the best horror pictures of the 1980s, showcasing a thunderous directorial vision and creative freedom from David Cronenberg. In '86, Brooksfilm also shepherded "Solarbabies," an awkwardly titled take on "Mad Max" that featured a cast on roller skates, emoting to a glowing blue sphere. There's certainly no way to compare the movies in terms of artistic and dramatic reach, but it's difficult to fathom what Brooksfilm was thinking with "Solarbabies," their attempt to join the fantasy film sweepstakes of the decade, only without a defined approach to transform its vast collection of absurdities into high-flying, fast-rolling, orb-cradling fun. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Working to create their own take on the destructive misadventures of Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner, DePatie-Freleng Enterprises delivers "The Ant and the Aardvark," a 17-episode saga featuring playful combat waged between an anteater who sounds like Jackie Mason (John Byner provides the voice) and Dean Martin-esque insect named Charlie (also Byner). Doing away with plot and a great assortment of supporting characters, the production focuses almost solely on the titular duo, who spend these brief blasts of screen time engaging in all kinds of violent shenanigans and zany chases, playing up cartoon slapstick with a merry-go-round of exaggerated misfortune. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

While enduring a career of sporadic work, writer/director Victor Nunez has a special way with characterization, taking extreme care with the lives he's dramatically dissecting on film. With 1993's "Ruby in Paradise," Nunez delivered a rich understanding of personal freedom and fears, while exploring Floridian locations with unusual respect for the state's natural beauty and idiosyncratic residents. 1997's "Ulee's Gold" is Nunez's second major feature and arguably his best work, building on the education "Ruby" provided to help blend slightly more commercial interests with his dedication to soulful dissection, led by a terrific performance from Peter Fonda. Channeling the work of John Sayles, Nunez pulls sizable drama out of subtle details and modest personalities, sticking to the basics of human behavior to create engrossing frustrations, gently nudging the tale to mild violence to help provide shape to the character study. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

"Miracle Beach" has terrible timing. A 1984-style beach shenanigans endeavor that was ultimately produced in 1992, the feature missed its chance to battle the competition, coming up with its own display of horndog antics featuring a bevy of topless women, while goofball supporting characters manage slapstick requirements poorly. Perhaps in the thick of the trend, the film might've found its place as harmless entertainment, trying to provide enough bikini-ogling antics as possible while nursing its fantasy premise. In the 1990s, the effort sticks out awkwardly, positioned as bottom shelf video store fodder for teenage boys. Weirdly bland and incredibly unfunny, "Miracle Beach" is too friendly to inspire viewer rage, but the boredom it generates as it goes about its business stumbling through terrible scenes is enormous, with director Skott Snider caught uncomfortably between the "Mannequin"-esque date movie he wants to make and the T&A fest the producers are counting on. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

A creation from DePatie-Freleng Enterprises, "The Inspector" (which ran from 1965-69) picks up where the main title sequence of "The Pink Panther" and its first sequel, "A Shot in the Dark," left off, rethinking abstract animated ideas into a short film series that ran before feature films, but eventually found its audience on television. Although it never identifies the lead character, "The Inspector" is basically "The Inspector Clouseau Show," offering a slightly brighter take on law enforcement shenanigans. The cartoon universe is a terrific fit for Clouseau, who offers his wit, patience, and gift for pratfalls to the program, which spends 34 episodes recycling the same jokes, but also achieves a significant amount of laughs and entertainment value, with the producers giving their creation a healthy dose of impish behavior and broad disasters. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Author Robert Ludlum built a brand name with his literary endeavors, favoring the thriller genre with dense work that adored spy games and their working parts. A few of his novels have been adapted for television and the big screen, most notably "The Bourne Identity" and its numerous sequels, which found a way to translate his special handling of suspense and paranoia for the mass audience. However, before Jason Bourne ruled the box office, there was 1985's "The Holcroft Covenant," which doesn't share the same raw intensity, but keeps up with the Ludlum vision as it explores secretive evil deeds, duplicitous characters, and globetrotting locations. This isn't the finest hour for director John Frankenheimer (creatively, most of the 1980s didn't go his way), but the helmer does supply meaty direction that at least tries to turn this tale of banking and identity into a nail-biting viewing experience. It doesn't quite take overall, but with Michael Caine in the lead role, "The Holcroft Covenant" remains compelling, even when it arranges full-on absurdity. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Ray Milland pulls double duty in 1962's "Panic in Year Zero," directing and starring in a post-apocalyptic tale that doesn't have the budget to imagine the end of the world, but does just fine with elements of dread. A bold depiction of doomsday survival, the feature bravely looks at the chaos following a nuclear attack, doing so during a period in time when the end of the world was an all too real possibility. Milland doesn't try to suffocate his audience, instead keeping "Panic in Year Zero" surprisingly buoyant, filling the effort with chases, shoot-outs, and heated confrontations, making it more of an exploitation endeavor than a requiem for the American Way. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Scoring a point for truth in advertising, 1984's "Monster Dog" actually submits the hellish fury of a monster dog, making it a minor success in terms of delivering on a titular promise. The rest of the picture's quality is open for debate. A rare foray into acting for rock music legend Alice Cooper, "Monster Dog" provides the master of shock with an appropriate thespian challenge, tasked with portraying a shadowy recording artist with an interest in the macabre. Perhaps this is slow-pitch softball for Cooper, but the feature doesn't make the transition easy, pitting the singer against the harshness of Italian genre filmmaking, with its loose dubbing, general dismissal of storytelling, and iffy special effects. At the very least, the movie supplies two Cooper tunes and gifts gorehounds with a few sticky encounters, meeting demands with a passably entertaining home invasion/werewolf/killer dog extravaganza that eventually does away with plot altogether, preferring to cling to a routine of violence and lackluster suspense to fill the run time. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

Mind games command 1962's "Journey to the Seventh Planet," but they're the inexpensive kind, giving the picture a chance to keep costs down by messing with group consciousness, which is easier on the special effects budget. An endearing offering of confusion from director Sid Pink, "Journey to the Seventh Planet" manages to overcome its monumental monetary limitation, showcasing delightful visual invention to bring a taste of paranoia and alien manipulation to life. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

War films, especially WWII films, typically favor the intensity of combat, watching leathery men set out to shut down the enemy, using heated battles to keep audiences invested in the routine of conflict. 1960's "The Gallant Hours" offers nothing in the way of extravaganza, preferring to take the introspective route as it explores Admiral William F. Halsey (James Cagney) and his leadership approach during the five-week period leading to the Guadalcanal campaign. It's an unexpectedly restrained feature, but its careful way with drama and psychological inspection is exceptionally managed by director Robert Montgomery, who puts his faith in the cast, trusting them to provide the firepower intentionally avoided by the rest of the effort. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com

The horrors of war are gracefully examined in 1954's "The Purple Plain," which downplays military valor to cut to the center of psychological ruin facing a fighter pilot who wants to die in combat, only to find heroics instead. Director Robert Parrish guides this sensitive study of depression, with Gregory Peck capably managing layers of quiet intensity in the lead role, which demands an exhaustive performance that indentifies the shattering of a soul and its eventual repair through the possibility of love. Read the rest at Blu-ray.com