Criterion Tagged Articles at Cinematical

The Criterion Collection releases two new DVDs today, two movies with nothing much in common. They were originally released in theaters almost exactly fifty years apart, in 1941 and 1991. One is an elegant, period romance set during the Napoleonic Wars, and the other is a gritty, modern-day urban cop story. The only thing I can think that makes them kindred spirits is their endings. I can see the two heroes, played by Vivien Leigh in the former and Joe Mantegna in the latter, sitting together at the end of their tales. They're both staring off into space, thinking about what an odd hand life has dealt them, thinking about what lies ahead, if anything. The cop looks over at the lady. "What's your story?" he asks. She might respond, "I used to be somebody." And he might retort, in a New York accent, "Tell me about it."

And maybe she would. Lady Hamilton would tell her heartbreaking story, as seen in That Hamilton Woman (1941), starting life as a lower class nothing on the grim streets of London, but meeting the son of an ambassador and looking forward to the good life. But she discovers that the son is deeply in debt and has "given" her to his father, Sir William Hamilton (Alan Mowbray), a collector of beautiful things. They marry and she becomes "Lady Hamilton," and she begins to enjoy her social life, until a weary soldier, Lord Horatio Nelson (Laurence Olivier) happens into her palatial home, asking for aid in the war against Napoleon. Her husband hems and haws, but Lady Hamilton uses her friendship with the Queen to get Lord Nelson what he needs without delay. From there, the married Lord Nelson and the married Lady Hamilton slowly form a passionate, centuries-spanning, heartbreaking illicit romance. A romance to end all romances.

It's the kind of film that cineastes discuss in whispers. It has an awkward title, and an awkward running time: 3 hours and 21 minutes. It has long been unavailable on video, and only those with access to the occasional special screenings -- or to bootleg DVDs -- have been able to see it in the past 34 years. Those who have seen it describe it with awe: nothing happens. Well, not exactly nothing. The main character is a housewife. She cleans the tub, washes the dishes, shines shoes, cooks dinner, goes shopping and sometimes sews. Oh, and she's a prostitute who sees one male client each afternoon, just before her teenage son gets home from school. But, of course, that's exactly when the film decides to cut away. The clients go into the bedroom. Cut. They come out again, fork over the cash and leave.

The film is Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (1975), written and directed by the Belgian-born Chantal Akerman when she was not quite 25. Today it makes its debut on an official Criterion Collection DVD, thereby erasing much of the myth surrounding it. I just finished watching all of it, and it's far more accessible than you might think, and far more cleverly constructed than it seems. The film takes place over the course of three days, and Jeanne (Delphine Seyrig) receives her first male visitor in the first ten minutes. Say "housewife" and practically anyone will glaze over, but say "prostitute" and everyone perks up. So we watch, waiting to see just how Jeanne juggles this one strange aspect of her life. When will the next guy arrive? What does Jeanne do to prepare?

I've learned my lesson on not falling into excitement about Whit Stillman news. As much as we've been asking over the years for more Whitty fare, all news seems to fade into development nothingness. But this bit of news -- this is only a few steps away. Following in the steps of the wonderful Metropolitan (a film that scored New Line its first Oscar nod for Best Original Screenplay), The Last Days of Disco is going Criterion.

The release, which will hit shelves on August 25, 2009, is a director-approved special edition that has a whole bunch of goodies that are just about the best thing for a fan wanting more Stillman. There's a new digital transfer, but that's nothing compared to: An audio commentary with Stillman, Chloe Sevigny, and Chris Eigeman (score!), four deleted scenes also with commentary, an audio recording of the director reading a chapter from The Last Days of Disco, with Cocktails at Petrossian Afterwards, a behind-the-scenes featurette, a stills gallery with captions from Stillman, theatrical trailer, and an essay by David Schickler.

In the sea of conversation-based films, of which there are many but never enough, My Dinner with Andre often reigns supreme. Perhaps this is because it is only a conversation -- a film so determined to be just dialogue that it makes Richard Linklater talkies look like action adventures.

Unfortunately, no matter how popular it is, the Wallace Shawn/Andre Gregory film has always been one of those hard-to-find features. It's the kind you might be able to rent at a niche video store, but would only find to buy once in a blue moon, for a large chunk of change (last time I saw it, a dilapidated vhs was going for $80). But finally, FINALLY, Criterion is giving it the DVD treatment -- a release that I hope will last longer than the gone-in-a-flash stint in 2003.

The new release, which will hit shelves on June 23, will offer a crisp, new high-definition transfer. A film centered on two men having dinner isn't the easiest thing to amp up with special features, but Criterion does a solid job. There will be new interviews with André Gregory and Wallace Shawn, which will be led by Noah Baumbach, plus "My Dinner with Lewis" -- an episode of BBC's Arena that had Shawn interviewing director Louis Malle, and a booklet featuring an essay by Amy Taubin and prefaces for the published screenplay written by Gregory and Shawn.

Anyone else gearing up for a talkie party on June 23?

Although Will Smith plays an emotionally fragile superhero in Hancock, as a movie star he's practically invincible. By industry standards, the last genuine Smith dud was The Legend of Bagger Vance, but the actor's standing among many audiences has remained decidedly rocky. As a result, he occupies a unique corner of the Hollywood marketplace where quality and taste don't necessarily match up. Unlike, say, The Dark Knight, not many people eagerly await the latest Smith offering -- which currently has a 32% rating on Rotten Tomatoes -- but they'll see it anyway. Hancock is tracking well, thanks to a poster exclusively dominated by Smith's unshaven mug, and that pretty much seals its potent box office fate. Just as Smith's slapdash onscreen persona is bullet-proof, Smith himself is steadfastly critic-proof.

Which places movie in an interesting quagmire: After pulling in waves of cash, it will probably get relegated to the void of forgettable Smith fare, where spectacles offer passing amusement before scampering off forever. Hancock, however, deserves better than a fleeting moment in the limelight and a crash landing in the bargain bin. It's part of a genre that speaks directly to the modern state of blockbuster cinema: The superhero satire.

The critics have spoken and the massive, $300 box set Ford at Fox was named the best DVD of 2007 by the contributors at DVDBeaver.com. For the fourth annual poll, Thirty-six DVD critics from all over the world submitted their individual top ten lists -- each of which is featured -- and then editor Gary Tooze tallied up points for the final results. The coveted John Ford box contains 24 John Ford films on 21 discs; kudos to any critic who had time to watch it all.

In second and third place are The Films of Kenneth Anger Vol. 2 and Vol. 1, both distributed by Fantoma Films. Volume 2 earned a few more points, probably due to the inclusion of Anger's most famous work, Scorpio Rising. In fourth place is another huge box set, the Criterion Collection's Berlin Alexanderplatz (1980), assembling Rainer Werner Fassbinder's 15-hour film on 7 discs. Showing off DVDBeaver's dedication to international DVDs, fifth place went to the BFI's second Region 2 box set of films by Mikio Naruse, containing When a Woman Ascends the Stairs (1960), Floating Clouds (1955) and Late Chrysanthemums (1954). The US release of When a Woman Ascends the Stairs from the Criterion Collection was counted as a tie.

Sixth place went to my personal favorite of the year, Criterion Eclipse's five-disc box set Late Ozu, featuring five great films from the 1950s and 1960s by the Japanese master Yasujiro Ozu. In seventh place was Warner Home Video's Film Noir Classics Collection, Vol. 4, with ten films on five discs, including Nicholas Ray's debut They Live by Night (1949) and Andre de Toth's essential Crime Wave (1954). Milestone's amazing 2-disc Killer of Sheep DVD, featuring several more features and short films by Charles Burnett, ranked eighth. Paramount's Twin Peaks: The Definitive Gold Box Edition took ninth place, sneaking out a few months after people spent their hard-earned cash on the Season Two box. Criterion sealed up the list at tenth place with their two-disc Sansho the Bailiff (1954), directed by Kenji Mizoguchi.

Tooze also included the first 40 runners up. Top vote-getters include Blade Runner: The Final Cut, Inland Empire and Ace in the Hole. Other categories are "best commentary track," "best extras" and "best transfer." Voters included Jonathan Rosenbaum, Theo Panayides, Tom Charity and the staff of Slant Magazine.

A few weeks ago, I read a Hollywood Elsewhere column lamenting the lack of a DVD for the 1951 film The African Queen. I remember hearing for years that Fox was restoring the film, and now Paramount has the rights and says they're restoring it for an eventual DVD release. This is only one of many movies that, as Variety notes, are considered notable or classic but still haven't made it to DVD. Many studios feel that there's not enough of a market for older films to justify the expense of restoring the films and transferring them to DVD.

Criterion recently started a new label, Eclipse, that will give many movies a DVD release without all the bells and whistles (and price) we usually associate with a Criterion disc. Each month, Eclipse will release a short series of several DVDs by a particular director or on a theme, such as the first series of early Ingmar Bergman films due at the end of March. Warner has been distributing a number of classic films, often in boxed sets, and also has released a number of films via Amazon's download service in advance of a later DVD release.

The Variety article hints that one of Criterion's upcoming releases may be a movie I've never seen because of a lack of DVD: Billy Wilder's Ace in the Hole. I suspect we all have lists of movies we'd love to rent or own on DVD but aren't available -- mine includes the 1939 romantic comedy Midnight, the 1973 cult Western Kid Blue and John Ford's 1935 film The Whole Town's Talking. I know some of these may never see the light of DVD, but I keep hoping. What's on your list?

Everyone has a different opinion regarding the greatest films in history. Since half the fun is in the arguing, pity the poor cinephile who thinks they've got it all figured out. A new DVD box set from Criterion and Janus may not claim to have finally compiled the greatest films ever, but they've gotten off to a pretty good start.

Janus was a distribution company founded in 1956 by Bryant Haliday and Cyrus Harvey. They had been showing foreign films in their Massachusetts theater for a few years before becoming the premiere distributors of foreign films in the US. Janus has teamed with their sister company Criterion to create Essential Art House: 50 Years Of Janus Film. This whopper of a collection is now available and includes films from directors like Federico Fellini, Ingmar Bergman, Luis Bunuel and Akira Kurosawa -- you can read about Criterion's remastered Seven Samurai here. In total, this box set contains 50 different films, numerous extras, and a 240-page book with an introduction written by Martin Scorsese. Most of these films have been available through Criterion for years, but not in one collection.

All of this film history doesn't come cheap though, the set has a retail price of $850. If that seems a little excessive, don't worry; Criterion is also planning on releasing individual discs from the series as well.

[via CNN Entertainment]

If you thought that DVD's effect on film preservation and restoration was minimal -- or only for hard-core film nerds -- think again: CNN.com is running an excellent piece (including before-and-after comparisons of individual frames) about the restoration of Criterion's new Seven Samurai DVD that does a great job of articulating the challenges of repairing a classic -- without completely altering it, or falling into the abyss where the perfect becomes the enemy of the good. Criterion Technical director Lee Kline is quoted as saying "For the most part, you wish you had a few more weeks ... people are used to pristine. But if we did that, we'd never get it out." Has DVD made people expect perfection? And can you make an older film 'perfect' without losing its soul? I for one love the Criterion Samurai, right down to the flaws and scratches that remain -- but are there film fans out there who, in this bit-heavy, high-def day and age, would turn off a film that offered anything less than perfect image quality, regardless of how great the story is?