It’s that time of year – the season of “best of” lists – and our now-emerging tradition is to play along with a selection of our favorite home video releases. A reminder of the ground rules: this is an appreciation of favorite home video releases, not favorite movies, so there is an emphasis on discs that offer valuable extras, and those that make available the otherwise hard to find and obscure. (That said, these are movies we highly value; otherwise, you know, who wants the extras?)
Normally we insist on alphabetical order, in an explicit rejection of the idea that films can or should be ranked. But as our number one choice so towers over all the rest, and in turn number two was so clearly the best of the bunch after that, we decided to go with “it’s more of a guideline than a rule” and list them in order of our enthusiasm. Here then, in order:
Ingmar Bergman’s Cinema. It begins and ends with the Criterion Collection’s celebration of the Bergman Centennial: Thirty sparkling Blu Rays that present thirty-nine films (many of which were previously available only in obscure editions, softs prints, and – we know because we tracked them down years ago – used VHS tapes). And as they say on T.V., “but wait, there’s more”: Interviews, documentaries, introductions, commentaries, and a 248 page book, among many other treats. We had seen all the feature films (though not four documentaries shot by Iggy himself), but snapped up the set as soon as it was available. (You should wait for the semi-annual 50% off sale at Barnes and Noble.) By the way, and we’re not complaining, but still missing in action are This Can’t Happen Here (which Bergman renounced), and an edition of In the Presence of a Clown with English subtitles. Anybody?
Bergman Box-tacular
The Magnificent Ambersons. You probably know the backstory: Orson Welles makes his second film, a 130 minute masterpiece, and then leaves for South America on a goodwill tour at the behest of the U.S. Government, to shoot an ultimately unfinished film. Meanwhile, back in the States, a weak test screening of Ambersons inspires ever-brilliant studio suits to cut the film down to 88 minutes, mutilate it along the way (slicing into bits a legendary long-take sequence at the Amberson Ball), and – wait for it – shooting a new, utterly incongruous more upbeat ending, and slapping it on the end of the film. The excised footage was all lost or destroyed—though the myth that a work-print sent to Welles for editing might be sitting in unmarked anonymity in some Brazilian warehouse remains the stuff that dreams are made of. But even in its vandalized form, the greatness of Ambersons can be appreciated, and Criterion again rises to the occasion with an outstanding special edition, replete with exceptional extras, including commentary tracks by Welles experts Robert Carringer, James Naremore, and Jonathan Rosenbaum.
Agnes Moorehead in Amersons
Ismael’s Ghosts. Regular readers will recall that we caught this film, by Mid Century Cinema favorite Arnaud Desplechin, at the recent New York Film Festival. We are still processing this major and important addition to his oeuvre—a pleasure which will be facilitated by a fine (Region B only) Blu Ray edition from Arrow Academy. The set includes two versions of the film (we’ve only seen the director’s cut, and will bet the house that it’s the better version), and interviews with the principals.
Desplechin and Matthieu Amalric at the New York Film Festival
Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Don Siegel’s 1956 Cold War allegory has never been treated to a high-end video release, an oversight now remedied by Olive Films with this entry from their new “signature” series, packed with bells and whistles. Clocking in at an efficient eighty minutes, watch this one with friends to enjoy the way it flirts with the Production Code (“a trip to Reno” isn’t just a trip to Reno), and argue about what it is an allegory for (put us down for McCarthyism).
Irma Vep. Arrow Academy scores again with a special edition from another one of our favorites, Olivier Assayas. One of those great movies that is in love with the movies, Irma Vep has been described, not unreasonably, as “the Day for Night of the nineties,” which is very high praise indeed. A lighthearted romp featuring Maggie Cheung, Jean-Pierre Leaund and a party of favorites, the disc boasts all the extras you could want, including commentaries, interviews, featurettes, and a related short.
Finally, honorable mention for five (plus) more 2018 home video releases (once again in order!) Paul Mazursky’s New Hollywood landmark Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice (Robert Culp, Natalie Wood, Elliott Gould and Dyan Cannon) is out in a long-overdue special edition, and Don Siegel makes a second appearance on this year’s list with a special edition from Powerhouse Films—of his seventies film and minor gem, Charley Varrick, starring Walter Matthau. For something completely different, check out The Death of Stalin, from 2017, which features an all-star cast and manages, somehow, to be laugh-out-loud funny while lingering unflinchingly on the horrors of Stalinism. Our ninth pick heads back to the New Hollywood—we were never much impressed with Dennis Hopper’s follow up to Easy Rider, The Last Movie, but it was long overdue for a proper release, and in this case, the extras look like they might be more than worth the price of admission alone. And rounding out our top ten, tied for the final slot are two great films previously available in fine editions, but now Blu’d up and with some additional extras: Antonioni’s collaboration with Jack Nicholson, The Passenger, and Robert Altman’s marvelous Gosford Park.