Here’s what’s new to DVD, Blu-ray, and VOD this week.
Top picks: Classic
Love Streams (Criterion)
Israeli super-producer Menahem Golan—who died last week at the age of 85—was a man of admirably eclectic tastes, pumping out lowest-common-denominator Chuck Norris vehicles alongside risky, ambitious arthouse projects; imagine Platinum Dunes merged with Annapurna Pictures, and you’ll get a sense of the unique spot that his studio, Cannon, occupied in the ’80s film industry. 1984 was something of a banner year for the company; its slate included Missing In Action, Breakin’, Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo, Ninja III, and, last but definitely not least, this John Cassavetes tour de force. Love Streams was the actor-writer-director’s final and most radical major work—an extravagant, impassioned, and at times just plain weird fusion of naturalism and stylization. Criterion’s new three-disc, dual-format edition marks the first time that the movie’s 141-minute theatrical cut has been available on home video in the United States. Look for our review later this week.
We Won’t Grow Old Together (Kino)
Maurice Pialat and Cassavetes have often been described as kindred spirits; though each had its own ethos and filmmaking style, they shared an interest in what compels people to maintain relationships with friends and family. Pialat’s second feature, We Won’t Grow Old Together, deals with the fractious relationship between a filmmaker (Jean Yanne) and his mistress (Marlene Jobert, pictured above)—an endless cycle of fights and reconciliations that adds up to what critic Ben Sachs once neatly summarized as a “portrait of codependence mistaken for love.” In the U.S., Pialat remains a criminally underseen director, which makes Kino’s release of this early, profoundly unsentimental masterpiece an essential release.
Other classic releases
Charles Bronson: Icon of leathery, musky masculinity, possessed of such indelible cool that he spent his career credibly rocking a roadkill hairdo and wearing the kind of thin, wispy mustache teenage boys are usually shamed into shaving off. For a certain kind of viewer—like, say, this writer—the mere casting of Bronson makes a movie a must-see. Those looking to acquaint themselves with his citrus aftershave-like presence might want to start with the watermelon-farming-themed actioner Mr. Majestyk (Kino Lorber), directed by the reliably terse Richard Fleischer and written—with a certain amount of gusto—by Elmore Leonard. Breakheart Pass (Kino Lorber) is one of Bronson’s lesser Westerns, though it isn’t devoid of broader, non-Bronsonite pleasures; the camerawork—by the great Lucien Ballard—isn’t half-bad, for one.
Fritz Lang directed three anti-Nazi films during World World II, all of which are masterworks of one sort or another: the gripping Graham Greene adaptation Ministry Of Fear; the very lefty Czech Resistance yarn Hangmen Also Die!, co-scripted by Bertolt Brecht; and Man Hunt (Twilight Time), an expertly ratcheted thriller about a British big-game hunter who finds himself pursued by a faceless army of German agents in the months leading up to the war. Lang’s work had a complicated history with the Nazis. His silent films were Party touchstones, with Metropolis—a technically astounding but politically immature work that Lang all but disowned in the 1930s—being a personal favorite of Joseph Goebbels. His sound-era work was fixated on intangible, impersonal evil—the kind that radiates from charismatic leaders, infects large populations, and expresses itself through mob violence and mass surveillance. Fascism may be the easiest target in Western culture, but Lang’s mature work used its imagery to probe into the underlying rottenness and fear of all societies, whether totalitarian or democratic.
Speaking of the fascism-obsessed: Tinto Brass—Italy’s Russ Meyer of butts—seems to have channeled all of his most off-putting hang-ups into Black Angel (Cult Epics), his classed-up Nazisploitation remake of Luchino Visconti’s Senso. Though it isn’t half as queasy as Brass’ earlier Salon Kitty, the movie trades in the same kind of erotic revulsion. Those looking for the full Brass experience can also subject themselves to the Tinto Brass: Maestro Of Erotic Cinema (Cult Epics) boxed set, which includes his most recent feature, Monamour, along with upskirt sonata Cheeky! and the turgid omnibus Private, which features half a dozen prosthetic dicks and just as many king-sized beds draped in satin.
Those who prefer their sex hardcore and Nazi-free—and subscribe to the notion that porn is always better with telephoto lenses and a plot—should pick up one of the twofer releases put out this week by the great cult label Vinegar Syndrome: Purely Physical / Cathouse Fever, Ultimate Pleasure / I Am Always Ready, and Tropic Of Desire / Fantasy World. A Bigfoot double feature—consisting of In Search Of Bigfoot and Cry Wilderness—rounds out Vinegar Syndrome’s releases for the week. Also on the cult front: a Blu-ray of Kevin Connor’s horror hybrid Motel Hell (Shout! Factory).