I still scratch my head over the savage reviews Paul McCartney got after the Beatles’ breakup: OK, McCartney might have been a modest, self-effacing effort—although 42 years’ distance has made it sound as experimental and eclectic as the rest of the man's misunderstood solo career—but 1971’s Ram, the latest in the ongoing (but much too slow!) revamp of Paul’s entire recorded catalog, has always been a freewheeling platter of Beatlesque songs—and who better to make an album of Beatlesque songs?—that holds up alongside Band on the Run as McCartney’s best album yet.

Perhaps the reviewers thought that giving wife Linda credit for co-writing half the songs was going too far...who knows?

From the effortlessly hooky opener “Too Many People” (a not-so-subtle swipe at what he saw as former bandmate John’s preachiness), Ram is as melodically and musically assured as ever, while also being the most sonically adventurous recording he would make pre-Band on the Run.

The glorious five-minute soundscape—and Paul's first post-Beatles Number One—“Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey” is another example of Paul’s genius for elaborate symphonic mini-suites, as are the phenomenal “Long-Haired Lady” (which opens with Paul’s “well, well, well, well, well” lovingly aping Lennon’s Plastic Ono Band primal scream) and the joyous closer, “The Back Seat of My Car.” There’s also delightful English absurdity in “3 Legs” and “Monkberry Moon Delight,” while “Smile Away” and “Eat at Home” are among Paul’s most infectious rockers.

The remastered Ram sounds so clear it seems brand new: the acoustic guitars on “Ram On” and “Heart of the Country”have an immediacy heretofore missing, and the ecstatic harmonies on “Dear Boy” shimmer and float through the speakers.

A second disc, comprising singles and outtakes, includes the instantly hummable hit “Another Day,” the rocking B-sides “Oh Woman Oh Why” and “Little Woman Love,” and the galvanizingly epic “Rode All Night.” Ram “special editions” include a DVD with a 10-minute Paul reminiscence of the album’s creation, as well as vintage video clips for “Heart of the Country,” “3 Legs,” and “Eat at Home” in concert.

Now if we could just get these Archive Collection re-releases put out at faster pace!

You can’t go wrong watching the many travel shows shot with HD cameras, especially those like the quartet of programs on this disc—going the fly-over helicopter route is the source of numerous stunning shots. Aerial Americavisits Hawaii’s lush tropical oases, California’s fertile farmlands, Pacific Coast Highway and San Francisco, and Washington and Oregon’s wooded and mountainous areas of splendor.

Breathtaking beauty is on display for three-plus hours, and watching on Blu-ray is the best advertisement for the tourism industry in all four states.

The seminal and controversial An American Family, TV’s first “reality” show focusing on the Louds, was shown on PBS in 1973. This absorbing if thin HBO docudrama by directors Shari Springer Berman and Robert Pulcini (best known for American Splendor) chronicles the filmmakers’ starting a project that pretty much ruined everyone’s—family’s and crew’s—life.

An accomplished cast—Diane Lane and Dennis Quaid as the parents and James Gandolfini as the PBS producer—makes this a worthy pendant to the original, itself available in a truncated DVD version. Extras include directors’ and Lane commentary and short making-of featurette.

Bill Gunn’s 1973 horror movie might have been inspired by Blacula’ssuccess, but deadly seriousness is its biggest flaw.

The exceedingly dangerous central affair with tragically fatal consequences meanders for far too long, and even if the film has been returned to its original length—113 minutes instead of a truncated 87—Gunn’s patchwork technique results in a disappointing dramatic experience. Extras include The Blood of the Thing, a collection of interviews from the 1998 DVD release; and an audio commentary.

The Civil War era—heretofore the provenance of the movie western—is the setting for this contrived soap opera about the men and women populating the wild west who took the law into their own hands as they helped expand the country from sea to shining sea.

Still, thanks to a cast led by Colm Meaney and Anson Mount and beautiful photography—watching it on Blu-ray is mandatory—the result is genuinely compelling. Extras include behind-the-scenes features and on-set footage.

This is one TV program where the Blu-ray is incorrectly titled: without commercials, this should be called History of the World in 88 Minutes.

Which is precisely what it is: beginning with the Big Bang 14 billion years ago, the show quickly moves through the solar system’s origins, dinosaurs, Ice and Stone Ages and the present day in an entertaining style that makes extensive use of CGI, which looks amazing on Blu-ray (and in 3-D if your TV can handle it).

Taking the low “kids with cameras” concept to its absurdly logical extreme, writer-director Michael A. Nickles’ unnerving, over-the-top thriller shows the legacy of past murders on students recreating them for a video project.

Despite the lunatic goings-on, Nickles’ audaciousness initially compels continued viewing; too bad he runs out of steam and perfunctorily peters out. The movie’s visuals are well-captured on Blu-ray; extras include two making-of featurettes.

Historian Bettany Hughes hosts this guided tour through the most imposing structures built in the name of Buddha. The seven monuments include the obvious—like Cambodia’s Angkor Wat and India’s Mahabodhi Temple—alongside the incredible His Lai Temple in Los Angeles.

This septet of sights provides an enlightening survey of the world’s most popular religions; and Blu-ray is the best way to take this tour, revealing one spectacular sight after another.

I’m adamantly against History Channel re-enactments, but there are cases when it’s warranted: the marvelous CGI driving this outstanding series reveals what could never be plausibly replicated any other way.

Among the 14 episodes’ subjects are how the planets were irrevocably changed, the origin of the solar system (again!), comets, UFOs and even the place of God in the universe. Needless to say, the visuals enthrall as much as the subject matter.

Norman Mailer—author, politician, pugilist, sexist, filmmaker, agitator, intellectual—is the subject of this engrossing documentary about a public life lived like a train wreck under a microscope (to coin a phrase).

Comments from his wives, children, colleagues and antagonists—and sublime footage of his feuds with Gore Vidal, William F. Buckley and the incredible battle with Rip Torn at the climax of their movie Maidstone—center Joseph Mantegna’s look at the rock star of American writers. Extras include Mailer speaking on various topics and a gallery of his letters.

Chad Freidrichs’ alternately depressing and heartening documentary erases the accepted notion that St. Louis’ infamous public housing project was a disaster and, by extension, exposes the uninformed outcry against modernist architecture and the people who lived there.

This strong, intelligent work of activism is equally factual and emotional, which it balances beautifully. Extras include a 30-minute film, More Than One Thing (1969), Freidrichs’ commentary and additional interviews.

With Mitt Romney’s rise, “venture capitalist” has become a dirty term, but it wasn’t always thus. In the heady days of the ‘60s through the ‘90s, people were not downsizing companies but growing them, and directors Dan Geller and Dayna Goldfine shrewdly examine the men (and woman) who turned companies and products like Apple, PowerPoint and Atari into blockbusters.

Alternating new interviews with vintage footage, Geller and Goldfine show that, with smarts and acumen, American capitalists were once innovative, not merely complainers about unfair taxation ruining job creation. Extras include five deleted scenes.

Britain’s to blame for our worst reality shows, but they also created this exciting chronicle of historians and archeologists unearthing the ruins left behind by the collapsed Roman empire nearly two millennia ago.

Hosted by comedian Tony Robinson, Time Team comprises a dozen episodes that are a time machine back to Britain’s Roman past, from London to Wales, and including a stop at the famous Hadrian’s Wall, the poster boy for Roman civilization in Britain.

 

This two-disc set compiles five episodes show off the most opulent houses in Britain, led by guide Selina Scott in glorious widescreen (too bad this wasn’t released on Blu).

There are visits to Burghley House Chatsworth, Blenheim Palace, Holkham Hall and Boughton House—the last rightly called the English Versailles, not only for its breathtaking baroque buildings and acres of sculpted lawns but also for the treasure trove of incredible paintings, furnishings and sculptures that clutter up its rooms and grounds. The lone extra is a 22-minute behind-the-scenes featurette.

The complaint most often heard about wind power—“I don’t want those ugly windmills near where I live/vacation/work”—has always sounded selfish. So when Laura Israel’s wittily-titled documentary methodically destroys the pro-wind argument in 83 minutes, attention must be paid.

When a resident of the New York State hamlet of Meredith, three hours north of Manhattan, builds a wind farm on his property, reality hits everyone, pro and con: mills are monstrosities, loud, blot out the sun, expensive, and backed by a conglomerate that makes massive profits whether they work or not. This is a remarkable educational primer for residents of Meredith and Tug Hill, a nearby town farther along in wind farming, and sympathetic viewers. Extras include additional interviews.

Francesco Cilea’s tragic romance was a huge operatic hit when first performed in 1904—and David McVicar’s staging at London’s Covent Garden is the first time it’s been performed there since 1906!

Despite its long absence, several arias are among the most popular and memorable in the repertory, and Angela Gheorghiu and Jonas Kaufmann sing them passionately. The orchestra and chorus—led by conductor Mark Elder—are in good form. Visually, McVicar’s production has its peculiarities, with sets and costumes not of the period; the sound blasts out of the speakers. The lone extra is a making-of featurette.

In 1977, Robert M. Young directed this honest exploration of our “immigrant problem,” focusing on a Mexican laborer who, after sneaking over the border, hopes to earn enough for his family back home; nothing goes as planned, as the heartbreaking result shows.

The Criterion Collection deserves accolades for bringing back this modest masterpiece: perhaps its subtle politics will register where didacticism won’t. The low-budget film looks excellent on Blu-ray; extras comprise Young and producer Michael Hausman’s commentary, a new interview with Edward James Olmos (who has a small role) and a short 1973 documentary by Young, Children of the Fields.

Even by the standards of its day (1932), this David O. Selznick-King Vidor super-spectacular has badly dated and often risible. Still, compensations are the star power of Joel McCrea as a sailor and intoxicating Dolores del Rio as the gorgeous island native he falls in love with.

Their chemistry—and some del Rio skin—help the bumpy 82-minute ride. The original 35mm print, courtesy of Rochester’s George Eastman House, has been satisfactorily upgraded, although there are inevitable visual blemishes.

In its final season, the “everyman” spy comedy-drama faced an inevitable decline in quality, but there were more than enough moments when the semi-spoof/semi-serious show hit its bull’s-eyes.

The cast is in top form throughout, there are solid one-liners and enough guest stars (Linda Hamilton and Carrie Ann Moss, most obviously) to make the 13 hit-or-miss episodes endurable. On Blu-ray, the series shines; extras include featurettes, deleted scenes and audio commentaries.

If joyful noise is what you want, then watch this shameless display of melodramatic uplift. Even with rousing gospel numbers and good solo turns from Dolly Parton and Jeremy Jordan, the story is nothing much—it ends at a big choir contest that might end badly for our guys and gals—but when the singers break into tunes every few minutes, including a gospel-inflected “Maybe I’m Amazed” by Jordan and the wonderful Keke Palmer, no one will mind.

The movie has a decent hi-def transfer; extras include on-set featurettes.

Humor is relative, but I doubt I so much as cracked a smile during this unnecessary 95-minute moviemaking spoof.

Tim Heidecker and Eric Wareheim are tastes I’ve yet to—and probably won’t—acquire, and despite the fact that one of my favorite singers, Aimee Man, loves them, and despite cameos from the likes of Will Farrell, John C. Reilly, Robert Loggia and William Atherton, this ill-conceived vanity project is DOA. On Blu-ray, the movie looks better than it deserves; extras include a commentary, deleted/extended scenes, interviews and featurettes.

In the fourth installment of Underworld(it only feels like many more), Kate Beckinsale again dons her skintight outfit as sexy vampires Selene—and thank goodness, since the movie is a by-the-numbers affair, despite appearances by Charles Dance and Stephen Rea, among others.

Directors Marlind and Stein’s action sequences have occasional visual pop, but the belabored attempts to make these characters mythic weighs down the plot. The extravagant set pieces translate well to Blu-ray; extras include music video, making-of featurettes, bloopers and a picture-in-picture accompaniment to the film.

In Madonna’s whitewash of the relationship between abdicating King Edward and American lover Wallis Simpson, these Hitler admirers become misunderstood celebrities, while a ridiculous non-story of a contemporary lonely married woman who admires Wallis is typical of Madonna and co-screenwriter Alek Keshishian’s ineptitude.

Andrea Riseborough and especially Abbie Cornish completely outclass their material, but aside from savvy art direction and Oscar-nominated costuming (both come off best in hi-def), there’s little else to recommend here. The lone extra is a 20-minute featurette.

Wide-ranging 21^stcentury art is dissected in this four-part, four-hour series about artists in different media—from sculpture to performance art to video—and their relevance today.

Among those profiled are Chinese artist Ai Weiwei, who could not attend the unveiling of his sculptures in Manhattan because he was jailed as a dissident; Serbian performance artist Marina Abramovic; and British painter Rackstraw Downes. All of the artists discuss how their provocative art challenges their audiences.

The quartet of documentaries in this valuable boxed set reminds us of Hitler and the Nazis’ destruction of Germany and much of Europe.

The Architecture of Doom brilliantly dismantles the Nazi ideology of art, which was followed to its fatal end; Dear Uncle Adolf recounts ordinary Germans’ affection for their Fuhrer with an illuminating look at letters written to him; Hitler: A Career succinctly sums up his life and politics in 150 minutes; and The Top Secret Trial of the Third Reich unveils the show trial of those conspirators in the failed assassination attempt of Hitler on July 20, 1944. 

Bernard Rose, who made the Beethoven biopic Immortal Beloved,returns to the composer’s title work, along with Tolstoy’s short story, which is the basis for this tale of a man raging impotently—and with unjustified jealousy—over his wife’s possible adultery.

Danny Huston is not bad as the narrating anti-hero, but Elisabeth Rohm is simply outstanding as the wife, giving a rare American film performance filled of naked—in many ways—eroticism. She transforms this cardboard character into a full-blooded woman; all that matches her are excerpts of Beethoven’s chamber music.

Jane Campion’s sister Anna directed this heavy-handed 1995 thriller that tries to be sexy and scary at the same time, but despite a top-notch cast of then-attractive actors and actresses—including Thandie Newton and Catherine McCormack at the beginning of their careers—Anna’s movie is too ludicrous to be enjoyable.

If you’re in the right mood, you might get a brief scare, but most viewers will be patently bored: and happy that several of the performers went on to bigger and better things.

This obscure 1978 Italian sex comedy is heavy on the sex, not so much on the comedy. Its main claim to fame is as the only starring role for Ursula Heinle, who disrobes early and often as a lecherous old man’s sexy niece.

Since she never appeared in another movie, having only this on her resume is nothing to crow about. Still, collectors of soft-core flicks will find something here to sate their appetite.

Morgan Jon Fox’s impassioned documentary shows religious extremists “curing” gay young men of their “disease.” Their “Love in Action” rehabilitation program was mentioned by teen Zach Stark on his blog after his parents forced him to go.

Soon, thanks to grassroots campaigns and bad publicity, it all fell apart for awhile. The director talks with former “patients” and leaders of the program, letting them have their say; extras include a post-Memphis Film Festival screening panel and Fox’s onstage marriage proposal to his partner.

Czech mezzo Magdalena Kozena displays her intimate side and authoritative command of three languages with these exuberantly-sung 20^th century cycles. Gustav Mahler’s Ruckert Lieder (German), Maurice Ravel’s Scheherazade (French) and Antonin Dvorak’s rarely done Biblical Songs(her native Czech) make a musically eloquent program that’s perfect for Kozena’s lustrous voice.

Accompanied with equal parts finesse and power by Kozena’s husband, conductor Simon Rattle, and the Berlin Philharmonic, this live recording is crystalline-sounding.

Sergei Rachmaninov’s last orchestral work isn’t as popular as his piano concertos and symphonies, but it may be his summit achievement: witty quotes from his own pieces are only one part of a brilliantly imaginative score.

In the hands of conductor Valery Gergiev, the London Symphony Orchestra plays it for all its worth in a truly dazzling performance. Scarcely less good is their traversal through Igor Stravinsky’s pungent Symphony in Three Movements. Too bad another substantial work didn’t round out this excellent but too short (58 minutes) disc, whose Super Audio CD surround sound is impressive.