DVD Digest for March 4, 2008

Paul Clark — Tue, 04 Mar 2008 15:00:00 GMT

After last week's release of the mammoth Criterion four-disc set of The Last Emperor, it was sort of inevitable that this week would be something of a letdown. Still, this week has a number of worthy releases it can call its own.

DVD of the Week: One of the most thought-provoking documentaries of 2007, Amir Bar-Lev's My Kid Could Paint That (Sony) tells the story of little Marla Olmstead, a four-year-old girl whose paintings won her acclaim as a modern-art prodigy until a segment on 60 Minutes II cast doubt on her authorship of the works. What began as a human-interest story about a little girl who enjoyed painting and turned out to be surprisingly good at it becomes a hornet's nest of issues — everything from how much of the value of art comes from the story behind it to the concept of modern art itself. Most relevantly, Bar-Lev takes the role of the media in building people up only to tear them down again, even addressing his own complicity in this process. Most impressively, the film does all this — and more besides — all in the course of eighty-three minutes. Also included on the DVD are an audio commentary with the director as well as several documentaries, one about the film, and the other featuring an interview with New York Times art critic Michael Kimmelman. A must-see for anyone interested in art or documentary filmmaking.

Other new releases coming to DVD this week include: Sean Penn's Oscar-snubbed Into the Wild (Paramount); Zack Helm's Roald Dahl ripoff homage Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium (Fox); Susanne Bier's melodrama Things We Lost in the Fire (Dreamworks), which boasts a fine Benicio Del Toro lead performance; and of course Steven Seagal's latest direct-to-DVD release, Pistol Whipped (Sony). Keep your eyes peeled to Vern's site for his no doubt imminent review. Also, for anime fans, this week brings the R1 release of the Japanese animated series Blood+ Part 1 (Sony), comprising the first twenty-five episodes of the series, as well as Blood+ Volume 1 (Sony), which only includes the first five episodes.

On the classics front, the most notable release is TCM Archives: Forbidden Hollywood Volume 2, a three-disc set that includes five pre-Code classics — The Divorcee (1929), A Free Soul (1931), Three on a Match (1932), Female (1933), and Night Nurse (1931) — accompanied by a new TCM documentary about pre-Code Hollywood. This week also sees the release of new editions of 101 Dalmatians (Disney), 12 Angry Men (MGM), and Mrs. Doubtfire (Fox), as well as Magnum P.I. Season 8 (Universal), and Blu-Ray-only releases of Ice Age (Fox) and 2002's The Rookie (Disney).

Finally, back by popular demand is this week's Huddleston Corner, in which we spotlight films being released in the soon-to-be-defunct HD-DVD format. This week's new HD releases:
Into the Wild (Paramount)
No Reservations (Warner)
Things We Lost in the Fire (Dreamworks)

Condolences!

Take Five: Movies With Lyrics

Peter Smith — Fri, 19 Oct 2007 19:00:00 GMT

Danish director Susanne Bier’s new film, Things We Lost in the Fire, is already generating a tremendous amount of indie hype. If the buzz manages to survive this opening weekend, it may result in the words "Oscar" and "Halle Berry" being mentioned without the words "fluke" or "Catwoman" appearing in the same sentence. The quiet family drama’s name may seem pretty arcane to people who aren’t as into indie rock as they are indie film – the title is drawn from an outstanding 2001 album by Duluth slowcore band Low. As more and more directors who grew up on a diet of punk, alternative and indie rock start making films, we’re likely to see more such abstractions; but while we wait for a generation raised on post-hardcore to grow up, here’s a few films from the past with musical names.

SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL (1968)

Filmed simultaneously with the Rolling Stones' recording of the song of the same name – indeed, footage of the Stones putting down tracks for the single are featured in the film – this was one of the first movies to use a rock song as its title. Jean-Luc Godard’s documentary/agitprop/drama/black comedy/whatever is a typically brilliant, typically frustrating film, very much in keeping with his work of the era. And, like the song, the film seems to be nothing so much as an admission that the end of the Sixties were a chaotic, turbulent vortex that owed as much to the hand of Satan as they did the peace-and-love generation.

MY OWN PRIVATE IDAHO (1991)

Gus Van Sant’s disorienting, dazzling, neo-Shakespearian drama about the lives of two gay hustlers (Keanu Reeves and the late River Phoenix) was a major step forward in the director’s postmodernist sensibility. Crammed with classical allusions, stunt casting, surrealism and shattered (or at least badly bruised) fourth walls, its determination to blend the sophisticated and the trashy was an appropriate tribute to the junk-culture leanings of the B-52s. "Private Idaho", a track off their 1980 sophomore effort Wild Planet, lent the movie its name more than a decade later. It’s a pretty good match, too – try dancing to the song’s frenetic rhythms during some of the movie’s more depressing moments.

THINGS TO DO IN DENVER WHEN YOU’RE DEAD (1995)

Unfairly slammed as a third-rate Tarantino knockoff for no better reason than its unfortunately timed release date, this intricate, too-clever-for-its-own-good heist thriller from director Gary Fleder is really more of a second-rate film noir that somehow got made fifty years too late. Still, maybe it deserved some of the bad reputation that got it lost among a raft of hip, violent thrillers – while it drew its name from an evocative, hilarious song off of the late Warren Zevon’s 1991 album Learning to Flinch, the filmmakers (no doubt aware that you can’t copyright a title, even one as distinctive as this) neither sought not received Zevon’s permission in using the name.

BOYS DON’T CRY (1999)

The movie that put Hilary Swank (and, to a lesser degree, Chloe Sevigny) on the map was also the first major Hollywood release to treat transgender people as anything but a punch line. The story of Brandon Teena, who lived most of his life as a male before being beaten to death by friends after they discovered he was biologically female, set the tone for a spate of indie films about homosexuality and gender issues. Its deeply ironic name was drawn from a 1980 single by the Cure, taken from their debut album of the same name, but the version featured in the movie itself is a far inferior cover. Seek out the original, one of the strongest the band put out before becoming a self-caricature.

MAN ON THE MOON (1999)

It’s no coincidence that Milos Forman’s biopic of experimental comedian Andy Kaufman drew its name from the 1992 R.E.M. song of the same name (from their Automatic for the People album). The song is itself a worshipful tribute to the comic, featuring references to his most famous routines and a chorus where singer Michael Stipe imitates Kaufman imitating Elvis. What’s more interesting is that this may be one of the few times where the video for the original song is far superior to the movie the song inspired – the inventive Peter Care-directed video is much more memorable than the somewhat stodgy and predictable film by Forman.

— Leonard Pierce

The Screengrab : susanne bier

DVD Digest for March 4, 2008

Take Five: Movies With Lyrics