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January '15 Digital Week III

Blu-rays of the Week
Genesis—Sum of the Parts 
(Eagle Rock)
For a band formed in the late '60s that went through numerous personnel changes—notably the loss of its dynamic lead singer and, as his replacement, the drummer who led the group to its greatest commerical heights—these classic British art-rockers don't get their deserved deluxe treatment: instead, this is a straightforward 90-minute documentary about a long, winding and storied career. 
 
At least everyone is present and accounted for, starting with Peter Gabriel, who for so long wanted little to do with his fomer mates; Phil Collins, Tony Banks, Mike Rutherford, Steve Hackett round out a lively discussion that, while only skimming the surface, hits the right notes. The hi-def transfer looks good; extras are additional interviews.
 
Jessabelle 
(Lionsgate)
This routine paranormal thriller follows a young woman—scarred from a car crash that killed her boyfriend—who returns to her family home and becomes haunted by her long-dead mother's spirit, through which she discovers unsavory secrets her father prefers to remain buried. 
 
Director Kevin Greutert leaves no cliched unturned, while Sarah Snook plays the victimized woman as gracefully as possible under the underwhelming circumstances. The Blu-ray transfer is excellent; extras are a commentary, featurette, deleted scenes, outtakes, alternate ending.
 
 
 
 
 
The Palm Beach Story 
(Criterion)
In Preston Stuges' delectable 1942 comedy, Joel McCrea and Claudette Colbert play a married couple whose finances are even less secure than their relationship, so the wife runs off to Florida to try and fix things in her unique manner. 
 
Only Sturges could have made such a fiercely funny, provocative comedy within the Hollywood system, while McCrea and Colbert give typically memorable comic portrayals. The Criterion hi-def transfer looks great; extras are interviews, a Sturges WWII short and a radio play of the story starring Colbert.
 
The Skin 
(Cohen Media)
Based on controversial short stories by Curzio Malaparte—who dared to show how badly Italians acted in the aftermath of the Allied invasion during World War II—Liliana Cavani's 1981 drama chronicles, in often sickening detail, how far some Italians went to remain above the fray as Americans took over following Mussolini's demise. 
 
Set in Naples, this hard-hitting if diffuse film stars Marcello Mastroianni, Claudia Cardinale and a dubbed Burt Lancaster; the physical production is almost too authentic, but cardboard dialogue and anemic acting lessen the potential impact. The Blu-ray looks OK; extras include Caviani interviews and a commentary.
 
 
 
 
A Walk Among the Tombstones 
(Universal)
In this supremely violent thriller based on books by Lawrence Block, Liam Neeson again assumes his tough-middle-aged-guy mantle as Matt Scudder, retired New York City cop turned private eye hired by a man whose wife was murdered by her kidnapers. 
 
The NYC locations and Neeson are appropriately gritty, but director Robert Frank overdoes the gory quotient; sure, the kidnapers are really bad guys, but why revel in their sadism? The Blu-ray image looks splendid; extras comprise interviews and a making-of featurette.
 
DVDs of the Week
The Bridge—Complete 2nd Season 
(Fox)
The original series The Bridge, set on the Sweden-Denmark border, was a subtle, incisive and involving whodunit-cum-character study that became heavily watered down in the American version, set—where else?—on the U.S.-Mexican border. 
 
The 13 episodes of the American second season, while not as cliche-ridden as the initial season, continue the hackneyed dramatics that leave Diane Kruger and Demian Birchir's flavorful performances in a vacuum. It's too bad that a more imaginative series didn't come out of this, preferably one set on the U.S.-Canadian border. Extras comprise behind the scenes featurettes and deleted scenes.
 
 
 
 
4 Adventures of Reinette and Maribelle 
(Icarus)
I'm no Eric Rohmer fan, so the supposed charms of his films usually escape me, with a few exceptions: unfortunately, this 1987 trifle about two uninteresting young women who meet and bond is not one of those. 
 
The women's banal chattiness is married to the contrived situations that Rohmer insists on throwing his heroines into in what unfolds as a barely entertaining throwaway. Lone extra is an interview with Jessica Forde, who plays Mirabelle; too bad this wasn't released on Blu-ray, like it was in France.
 
Middle of Nowhere 
(Lionsgate)
Ava DuVernay—now best known for last week's Oscar snub for her direction ofSelma—helmed this thoughtful 2011 character study about Ruby, a young Compton mother with a husband in jail, who looks to straighten out her life by going to school and tentatively exploring a new relationship. 
 
DuVernay's credible dialogue and insightful script, coupled with a shatteringly real Emayatzy Corinealdi as Ruby, make this a compelling exploration of a society that's still far under most people's radar. Lone extra is an informative commentary by DuVernay and Corinealdi.

Film Review: "Blackhat"

trailer-for-michael-manns-blackhat-thriller-with-chris-hemsworth.jpg
The only way to make sense of Blackhat is to imagine Hansel (of the Zoolander variety, not he of the breadcrumbs) taking an online computer science class, changing his name to Michael Mann and setting out to wow the world by going "inside the computer." The result is 135 minutes of excruciating, unequivocal gobbledegook led by the most frigid onscreen couple since Joel Schumacher's Mr. Freeze squabbled with Poison Ivy.  To call it bad is a lie by degree; it's impossibly poor. For over two simply unbearable hours, join Mann as he sullies his good name with a film so awesomely abhorrent you'll be doubting that he (he of international critical acclaim and assorted Oscar nominations) ever stepped foot on set.

Unfortunately, Mann's fingerprints are undeniably all over Blackhat. His signature wide-lens nocturnal cityscapes are too crisp to be the work of even a dedicated understudy. If we're digging deep to give Mann points (something we really shouldn't be doing for a movie this embarrassingly bad), at least those fleeting heli-shots of x or y city at night provides temporary respite from the narrative implosion happening all around it. With force, Mann throws down the gauntlet for a movie where the establishing shots are incontestably better than the actual goings on of the film.

The plot (if you're generous enough to refer to this "RAT after cheese" hunt as a plot) consists of a rogue hacker con (Chris Hemsworth) furloughed by the FBI in an attempt to hunt down those responsible for bringing a Chinese nuclear reactor to the brink of a meltdown, old MIT buddies reunited under the most improbable of circumstances, a kid sister sidekick with eyes for the hunky Hemsworth and one ESL-lesson shy of a TOEFL-degree and evil hackers who lounge around with their pale bellies protruding. Blackhat pivots on the oh-so-exciting prospects of coding, stock manipulation and the DOW value of soy. And eventually tin. If only 1995 Michael Mann could hear how tinny it sounds.

Hemsworth isn't to blame for the bed-shitting puddle of yuck that is Blackhat (though he could have tried a touch less humorlessness), nor is seasoned compatriot Viola Davis (though I'd like to have a word with her heavy-handed makeup artist). The other leads though - those of the Asian persuasion - seem culled from the international recycling bin. As the female lead, Wei Tang has less restraint than a local weatherman and her consistent jumbling of volume and cadence leads to some wonky audio issues that a finished, wide-release film should never encounter. The conversations are loud, then inexplicably quiet and then overbearingly tremble-y. Like someone sat on the audio control board and no one cared enough to fix it.
But Blackhat is filled with those brush-it-off-the-shoulder moments, as it succumbs steadily to a tide of directionless, thoughtless bunk. The perceived mounting suspense-by-laptop is as exciting as waiting two hours to discover a broken roller coaster at the end of the queue. Or watching a friend play a video game. As in watching only them, without being privy to what's happening on the screen. For two hours.

The second time that Mann dips into the computer circuits to spider around for an improbable amount of time, you know you're in trouble. When the leads lunge at each other like caged rabbits, holding back hearty howls is as impossible as enjoying the film. It's all the worst habits of bad filmmaking puked onto the screen and shown over and over again. If The Fifth Estate is a golden boy for laughable hacker drama gone wrong, Blackhat dares to one-up it.
 
When affairs get gun-fighty, you breathe a sigh of relief. "Well at least Mann knows how to shoot the hell out of a gun fight. We're all set here guys. Right?" Wrong. One couldn't predict how horribly clunky and straight-to-video the transpiring blaze of gunfire is if they had a crystal ball. It's almost unreasonable to be expected to come to terms with the fact that the same Michael Mann who directed the infamously taut bank shootout of Heat filmed what is quite reasonably the worst wide-release gunfight of the 21st century. Hang your head heavy Mr. Mann, feel the shame waft over you. Either that or your captors should feel rather guilty ("Where is the real Michael Mann and what have you done with him?!")

The hacker thriller is a tough cookie to crack and has led to more certifiably misfires than any other action subgenre I can summon (yes, even more so than the geri-action sort). The closest anyone's ever gotten to a great hacker thriller is The Matrix, and I use the comparison softly because calling it a hacker thriller is me admittedly bending the lines. Michael Mann's film doesn't come close to great. It's not even within the realm of good. It couldn't see the periphery of good with 400x binoculars. To have his name attached to it is to bear a Scarlet Letter from this point hence. Insufferable and tacitly overlong, his shameful film is an early contender for being crowned worst film of the year. Play at being Neo for a day: dodge a bullet and skip Blackhat.

F

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January '15 Digital Week II

Blu-rays of the Week
Archer—Complete 5th Season (Archer Vice)
(Fox)
In the fifth season of this animated spy spoof, Archer and his cohorts are no longer at the ISIS agency, instead becoming drug dealers attempting to sell cocaine.
 
With a top-notch voice cast—Aisha Tyler is incomparably hilarious as Archer's pregnant ex-girlfriend Lana and Jessica Walter devilishly sly as Archer's mother—and brightly-colored animation, Archer scores as a funny parody that strikes the right balance between crassness and cleverness. The hi-def images are striking; extras include a music video and interview.
 
Atlas Shrugged III—Who Is John Galt? 
(Fox)
For the final installment of the trilogy from the Ayn Rand novel that's become a conservative bible, the filmmaking and acting are even more amateurish than in the previous two parts: an epic tale of a dystopian United States saved by patriotic entrepreneurs is presented on an amateurish level just a notch below a bad high-school play.
 
The acting is lousy, the directing and writing inept, the photography and sets cheap-looking; I must apologize to Taylor Schilling and Samantha Mathis, whose mediocre acting as Dagny Taggert in the first two films is award-worthy next to Part 3's dregs. The movie looks good on Blu-ray; extras include short on-set featurettes.
 
 
 
88 
(Millennium)
Director April Mullen's derivative mystery, cribbed from Memento, follows a young woman who finds herself in a diner bloodied, with a gun and no memory of how she got there. Her story is gradually pieced together through flashbacks; the scrambled chronology fights for screen time with much gore and flying bullets.
 
Katharine Isabelle, onscreen for pretty much all of the 88-minute running time, lacks the sort of forceful screen presence that makes viewers forgive lapses in logic, plotting and dialogue. The Blu-ray image looks decent; extras include making-of featurettes.
 
Gone Girl 
(Fox)
I had hoped David Fincher could do something with Gillian Flynn's trashy novel, but her equally moribund screenplay pulls him under, making this glossy but uninvolving  adaptation of one of the least deserving bestsellers ever as close to a hack job as Fincher has ever made. There's a choppiness and lack of rhythm that's shocking coming from the director of Zodiac, the textbook example of expertly pacing a slow-moving story.
 
Flynn's satirical targets are obvious—blueblood New Yorkers, moronic Midwesterners, white trailer trash, the media, fatuous TV hosts, ambulance-chasing lawyers—and Fincher indulges his writer so much that this long movie quickly becomes tiresome. Even the casting is off: Ben Affleck's chiseled jaw and Rosamund Pike's ice-queen look don't make them act any better; only Carrie Coon gives a fully realized performance as Ben's twin sister. The hi-def transfer is superb; Fincher's chatty commentary is the lone extra. 
 
 
 
The Manners of Downton Abbey 
(PBS)
Here's more proof that Downton Abbey has become a cultural phenomenon: this one-hour special that's basically a making-of featurette has received a standalone Blu-ray release instead of being part of the full season release.
 
Host Alastair Bruce, the series' historical advisor, takes viewers behind the scenes to show how he and his staff ensure that the actors and production adhere to the necessary historical fidelity for the series' time period. The hi-def image is excellent; lone extra is a bonus scene.
 
My Left Foot 
(Lionsgate)
Although Daniel Day-Lewis deservedly won his first Best Actor Oscar in Jim Sheridan's inspiring but unsentimental biography about Christy Brown, whose cerebral palsy and inability to use anything but his left foot didn't stop him from becoming a celebrated writer, there are also tremendously affecting portrayals by Hugh O'Conor as the young Christy and Brenda Fricker as Christy's headstrong mother.
 
Sheridan's sensitive direction makes this 1989 drama is a masterpiece from its first frame. The hi-def transfer looks quite good; extras are short featurettes. 
 
 
 
 
 
DVDs of the Week
Playing Dead 
(First Run)
In this bizarrely amusing French mystery, washed-up actor Jean takes a job playing victims in a crime scene reenactment at a Swiss ski resort, while Noemie is the local magistrate working on the case who is at first annoyed by Jean's annoying behavior but—surprise!—gradually warms to him.
 
Writer-director Jean-Paul Salome has cleverly created a weirdly entertaining movie with memorably oddball lead characters, enacted persuasively by Francois Damiens (Jean) and Geraldine Nakache (Noemie). 
 
Two Mothers 
(TLA)
German writer-director Anne Zohra Berrached's concise, clinical study of a lesbian couple that wants a baby, only to discover that Germany's establishment health facilities can't (or won't) help: so they desperately look for sperm donors, which opens up a whole new can of worms.
 
Karina Plachetka and Sabine Wolf are nakedly vulnerable as the women, whose dilemma—including jealousy and depression—is beautifully handled by Berrached in a pointed 75-minute film that never approaches melodrama or maudlin.
 
 
 
 
 
Who Killed Alex Spourdalakis? 
(Disinformation)
This devastating true story about an autistic teen's unfortunate death is a wholesale condemnation of a medical establishment that won't—or refuses to—deal with children suffering from a disease which needs special treatment.
 
Director Andy Wakefield tells this tragic tale through the eyes of Alex's mother and godmother, accused of his murder when they decide that neither they nor he can tolerate his condition any longer. Tough to watch, this is still a must-see and humane look at our medical system's heartlessness. Extras comprise filmmaker interview and featurettes.
 
CDs of the Week
Busoni/Strauss—Violin Concertos 
(Hyperion)
The valuable series "The Romantic Violin Concerto" has brought dozens of unsung works out of mothballs for listeners to appreciate anew, and the 16th volume also does that with concertos by Ferruccio Busoni and Richard Strauss, neither of which are among either composer's greatest, but both are attractive and melodic with ample opportunities for a talented soloist to show off her chops.
 
And this first-rate recording has that in spades with accomplished violinist Tanja Becker-Bender, whose lively tone and exemplary technique are perfectly attuned to Busoni and Strauss, as are conductor Garry Walker and the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra.
 
 
 
Rachmaninov—The Piano Concertos 
(Decca)
Sergei Rachmaninov was a master piano player and composer, and this two-CD, one-Blu-ray set, which brings together his four masterly concertos and equally worthyRhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, is one of the best editions available, simply because of its soloist: Russian pianist Vladimir Ashkenazy, who originally recorded these works in 1972.
 
Now that they've been remastered, Ashkenazy's interpretations can once again be heard in all their glory—his rendition of the formidable third concerto (the "Rach 3" of Shinemovie fame) leading the way—with Andre Previn and the London Symphony Orchestra providing rich accompaniment. The Blu-ray disc allows listeners the chance to savor these seminal recordings in the highest audio resolution possible.

January '15 Digital Week I

Blu-rays of the Week
Elsa & Fred 
(Millennium)
In a closely-fought battle between saccharine and star power, the former ekes out a victory against Oscar winning vets Shirley MacLaine and Christopher Plummer, who play an elderly couple who try and enjoy their unlikely romance despite her flights of fancy and his unceasing dourness.
 
Director Michael Radford, who has remade 2005's Elsa y Fred from Argentina, displays his usual professionalism, but a treacly finale set in Rome that reenacts La Dolce Vita's famous Trevi fountain sequence, defeats him and his still-glamorous stars. The movie looks first-rate on Blu-ray; lone extra is a making-of featurette.
 
Horns 
(Anchor Bay/Radius-TWC)
I don't know Joe Hill's underlying novel, but Alexandre Aja's crass adaptation turns a decent story—a young man accused of his girlfriend's murder grows horns, causing all he meets to confess hidden desires or secrets—into a hackneyed melodrama that relentlessly hammers home its obvious symbolism.
 
Daniel Radcliffe is intensely committed in the lead, but even he can't find much meat on the bones of a metaphor that, exhausting itself after 45 minutes, spins in place for the rest of its repetitive two hours, padded with things like a ludicrous, homophobic subplot about two closeted cops. The Blu-ray image looks excellent; lone extra is a making-of.
 
 
 
Memphis 
(Kino Lorber/Visit Films)
In Tim Sutton's moody character study, a blues musician whose creativity has stagnated drifts around Memphis in an attempt to reconnect with his muses, even if it seems like no matter what he tries or whom he deals with, his personal and professional lives remain maddeningly out of reach.
 
Although it's exceedingly slow, there's a surfeit of atmosphere in this impressionistic musical portrait that's dominates by Willis Earl Beal's magnetic performance. The hi-def transfer is outstanding; extras include a deleted scene and interviews.
 
Reach Me 
(Millennium)
Cornball in the extreme, this would-be inspirational drama about a self-help author unable to remain anonymous and a cross-section of famous and ordinary people his words help is so disjointed and filled with sleep-walking actors from Sylvester Stallone and Kira Sedgwick to Danny Aiello and Tom Berenger that it falls completely flat.
 
Writer-director John Herzfeld—who once made the oddly entertaining ensemble film, Two Days in the Valley—does nothing right this time, and the desperation of everyone involved is seen in every frame. The hi-def transfer looks good.
 
 
 
 
DVDs of the Week
Divine Madness 
(Warner Archive)
Director Michael Ritchie—who was at the tail end of his cinematic prime (The Candidate, Smile, The Bad News Bears, Semi-Tough)—filmed Bette Midler's 1979 Pasadena shows for posterity, with the great William A. Fraker as his cinematographer, and the result is an enteraining time capsule of an unabashed diva in her own prime.
 
Midler tells as many dirty jokes and stories as she sings her songs, even if she does show off her impressive pipes on "The Rose" (then a brand-new tune); too bad that the DVD version omits two songs from the original concert film.
 
Honey 
(Kino Lorber)
Actress Valeria Golino makes an auspicious directorial debut with this engrossing character study about a free-spirited Italian college student Irene who regularly smuggles drugs from Mexico (via California) to help perform assisted suicides under the pseudonym "Honey."
 
With a powerful performance by Jasmine Trinca in the deceptively difficult title role, Golino has made a strong, intelligent drama that would be an impressive achievement for any director, let alone a first-timer.
 
 
 
 
A Will for the Woods 
(First Run)
The deeply personal story follows Clark Wang, a man whose terminal illness prods him to explore the green burial movement in order to use his upcoming death as a way to help preserve the environment.
 
Directors Amy Browne, Jeremy Kaplan, Tony Hale and Brian Wilson, along with Clark and his partner Jane, have made a compelling documentary that's rich in humanity and hope, sadness and humor. Extras include extended, deleted and follow-up scenes.
 
CDs of the Week
Anne Akiko Meyers—The American Masters 
(e one)
With this welcome sort-of sequel to her American Album,violinist Anne Akiko Meyers again displays her endless versatility and virtuosity in three very different works by Samuel Barber, Barber's student John Corigliano, and Corigliano's student Mason Bates.
 
Barber's glorious 1939 Violin Concerto has rarely sounded so of a piece, Corigliano's lovely 2010 Lullaby for Natalie (Meyers' first-born daughter) receives a heartfelt reading, and Bates' inventive 2012 Violin Concerto gives the soloist an extended technical workout: she passes all three tests with flying colors, complemented by Leonard Slatkin's sensitive conducting of the London Symphony Orchestra. Barber may be the lone "American Master" among this composing trio, but this album provides incontrovertible evidence that Meyers also deserves that title.
 
 
 
Nicola Benedetti—Homecoming, A Scottish Fantasy
(Decca)
This followup to Italia, which explored her Italian musical roots, finds violinist Nicola Benedetti reveling in the richness of her Scottish heritage, beginning with Max Bruch's Scottish Fantasy, a concerto in all but name that spins lilting melodies and singing violin lines from a bottomless well of Scottish folk song and Robert Burns tunes.
 
It's no surprise that Benedetti is also an unabashed Burns lover; the rest of the disc comprises Burns and folk settings for varying instrumentation, from small ensembles to the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra, led by Rory Macdonald. Throughout, the constant is Benedetti's miraculous musicianship: while, as a bonus, her disc notes show that she's also a wonderfully evocative writer.

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