Review Category: DVD/Blu Ray

Want to get a genuine feeling for how big a phenomenon The X-Files was in the nineties? Simply Google back issues of this very magazine. During its initial incredible nine season run, STARBURST seemed to feature the show on every alternate cover.

The brainchild of Chris Carter came out of nowhere and hit big with its careful blending of horror, conspiracy theories, urban legends, and sometimes all-out sci-fi. There is a truth out there (see what I did) that the later seasons suffered from the lack of input from key writers such as Glen Morgan and James Wong, but the entire run remains surprisingly consistent and quite resilient to the passage of time. This box set does lack the two movies and spin-off series The Lone Gunmen and Millenium, but maybe a set comprising all of this would be possibly too expensive for the average fan of this 90’s mainstay.

This box set is nice and concise – all standard nine seasons are present and correct, plus the six episode ‘event’ season 10 and the seemingly final Season 11, which Gillian Anderson stated bluntly would be her last outing in any event. When you begin the epic task of ploughing through all 218 episodes, the first thing to hit you is the realisation of how many of these are stone cold classics. Even when the show had lost the charismatic sex addict David Duchovny, it continued to spit out some truly experimental and outstanding television. The second thing to hit you is the realisation that the original pairing of Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny as Mulder and Scully will go down in history as one of the best double acts in the arena of telefantasy.

The remastering and presentation of the entire series is beautiful. The tones are perfect, the colours atmospheric, the lighting bordering on noir. This series was cinema quality before the so-called golden age of television that some say we are currently experiencing. The early seasons were broadcast in 4:3, yet here we get to see them in 16:9 as luckily (unlike Buffy the Vampire Slayer) the original footage was shot with this in mind. You will find no actors lurking at the edge of the screen practising lines; this is X-Files in 16:9 HD. If you watched these when they were originally broadcast, seeing episodes such as Jose Chung’s From Outer Space, The Post-Modern Prometheus, and the introduction of Eugene Victor Tooms in Squeeze in this perfect format is like falling in love with the show all over again.

As you work through the myriad of episodes such as Paper Clip, Clyde Bruckman’s Final Repose, the truly terrifying Home, and witness writer Vince Gilligan honing his craft with muse Bryan Cranston in Drive, you get a genuine sense of the accomplishments of this show. This box set is a testament to the indelible impression made by The X-Files on pop culture.

Any set comprising a show that ran this long also stands or falls by the extras. We’re happy to report that they are probably the best we’ve ever seen. Every season is totally covered by in-depth ‘making of’ documentaries, and the endless episode commentaries make it possible to thoroughly engage with the shows developmental process throughout its entire run. The extras covering the later seasons do give a wonderful insight into the challenges facing a show that had far outlived the average lifespan of any TV show.

The only gripe is that the discs of the final two seasons had not been artistically reworked and slightly stand out from the season 1 to 9 discs. Otherwise The X-Files: The Complete Series is the ultimate time capsule for one of the most outstanding shows in TV history.

THE X-FILES: THE COMPLETE SERIES / CERT: 15 / DIRECTOR & SCREENPLAY: VARIOUS / STARRING: DAVID DUCHOVNY, GILLIAN ANDERSON, MITCH PILEGGI, WILLIAM B. DAVIS / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW

It may have taken the rollercoaster ride and technical masterwork of Gravity for Alfonso Cuaròn to finally gain awards recognition, but 2006’s Children of Men is the point where he deserved to have been shot to fame.

A box office flop on its release, Children of Men tells the story of a near future where humans have become infertile and no one knows why. When Theo (Clive Owen) is asked by a former love (Julianne Moore) for his help to transport an immigrant, Kee (Clare-Hope Ashitey), to the coast, he’s thrown into a political fight where the future of mankind is on the line.

Children of Men is a film imbued with anger at what humans can do to each other and how hate can easily take over. Released in 2006, it’s pre-Brexit and Trump but what was striking then and what is coming to pass now is how easily you could see its fictional society becoming a reality. Immigrants are locked up in cages with heavily armed guards standing outside. TV screens on trains proclaim that ‘Britain soldiers on’ while its society collapses outside the windows. Like all the best science fiction and speculative fiction, it holds a mirror up and reflects our problems and evils back. When people are scared, and in Children of Men they’re terrified at the very real prospect of the end of the human race through an unexplainable infertility epidemic, their fear spreads as anger, and with a government willing to point the finger and stoke the hate, how easily that venom is thrown at whatever is different, whoever is different.

But it’s not a film just filled with anger – its moments of hope and humanity give it a beating heart. It’s in Theo and Jasper’s (Michael Caine) warm friendship and the unwavering love Jasper shows towards his disabled wife. Former maternity nurse Miriam (Pam Ferris) speaking of how she first noticed the infertility epidemic as the ward diary become completely empty of appointments, all told while in a decrepit school. A warzone being brought to complete stillness by the sight of a baby. It’s ultimately a film about hope; about people with the courage to help others, sacrificing themselves not for a political purpose but for what’s best.

Of course, the technical filmmaking skills of Cuaròn and his DOP, Emmanuel Lubezki, are fully on display. The roving camera feels journalistic, getting right into the heart of the drama and turning to pick up images like a mother in the street crying over the corpse of her son, or family pictures arranged on a mantelpiece telling of better times for those who have lost so much. The long takes feel visceral and breathtaking, throwing you into action, the lack of cuts making it feel like a documentary.

Arrow Films have given Children of Men the release it deserves. As well as beautiful 4K visuals, it’s packed with extras. It’s given a new video appreciation, a video essay and archival documentary, each from critics, philosophers and film experts. The films visual effects and camerawork are explored, as well as its themes and resonance with contemporary culture.

One of the great films of the 2000s, and sorely overlooked, Children of Men is long overdue its appreciation, but this release goes a long way to giving it back. Enjoy it for its story, enjoy it for its entertainment value, and enjoy it for its intelligence. Just watch it.

CHILDREN OF MEN / CERT: 15 / DIRECTOR: ALFONSO CUARON / SCREENPLAY: VARIOUS / STARRING: CLIVE OWEN, JULIANNE MOORE, MICHAEL CAINE / RELEASE DATE: 5TH NOVEMBER

Extras: New audio commentary by author and critic Bryan Reesman, There is No Future – a new video appreciation by film historian Philip Kemp, Fertility & Progeny – a new video essay by author and critic Kat Ellinger, The Possibility of Hope – an archival documentary featuring interviews with activist Naomi Klein, philosopher Slavoj Žižek and others, exploring the film’s resonance with contemporary current affairs, Comments by Slavoj Žižek – an archival featurette on the film’s themes, Creating the Baby – an archival featurette on the film’s visual effects, Futuristic Design – an archival featurette on the film’s sets, Theo & Julian – an archival featurette on Clive Owen, Julianne Moore and their characters, Under Attack – an archival featurette on the film’s ground-breaking camerawork, Deleted scenes, Image gallery

Philippa Pearce’s 1958 children’s novel has certainly held a fascination for successive generations of television producers; the BBC have adapted it three times, initially in 1968 (as part of the educational series Merry-Go-Round) and again six years later; in 1999 there was even a feature film. This most recent TV version was broadcast at the beginning of 1989, and is perhaps the most fondly-remembered and best-regarded. In truth it’s rather stiff, even for vintage kid’s telly.

If you’re the wrong age to have caught any of these transmissions (or read the book), the story goes like this: Tom’s brother Peter gets a case of the measles, so Tom is sent to stay with his aunt and uncle at a fictional village near Ely, where they’re tenants to the mysterious woman who lives alone in the attic flat. Tom becomes fascinated by the grandfather clock that stands downstairs, never chiming the correct hour – and one midnight, after it strikes thirteen, he discovers a mysterious garden beyond the building’s rear door.

It’s a story that dwells on its evocation of place – each night, Tom visits the house’s Victorian past – than any more pressing narrative concerns, and this television adaptation struggles to stretch to six half-hour episodes; we don’t meet Hatty, one of only two people in the past who can see Tom during his visitations, until the end of the second instalment – and it’s two more before we get any real sense of jeopardy or, indeed, development. Pearce’s novel was concerned with the idea of either Tom or Hatty being a ghost (to one another at least), but without much internal monologue and with Tom’s letters to his brother heavily abbreviated, Julia Jones’ terribly earnest script only skims the surface of that. It’s also fairly superficial with regards to Pearce’s ideas about the nature of time, and ultimately while emotionally satisfying Jones’ is an intellectually lightweight version of the story.

This also suffers from some unimaginative and rather flaccid direction. Jeremy Rampling, as Tom, only ever had one other screen credit and while he’s enthusiastic, Christine Secombe never manages to tease an authentic or even wholly sympathetic performance out of him. And while this is the BBC at their period best, the production lacks ambition and some of the camerawork and artistic choices are uninspired to say the least. It doesn’t help this is an all-video production, and the picture is rather murky in places. That said, Paul Reade’s score is memorable and quite lovely.

If you were twelve in 1989, chances are you’ll thrill to the nostalgia kick. But this feels like it was old-fashioned telly even for then, and this version isn’t going to appeal to a new generation of potential fans.

TOM’S MIDNIGHT GARDEN / CERT: U / DIRECTOR: CHRISTINE SECOMBE / SCREENPLAY: JULIA JONES / STARRING: JEREMY RAMPLING, SHAUGHAN SEYMOUR, ISABELLE AMYES, SIMON FENTON, CAROLINE WALDRON, RENÉE ASHERSON / RELEASE DATE: 12TH NOVEMBER

To paraphrase the old adage, Two Evil Eyes are better than one, and with this film two of horror’s most renowned directors, George A. Romero and Dario Argento, joined forces to adapt two Edgar Allan Poe stories.

Romero’s The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar kicks off the proceedings. Adrienne Barbeau stars as Jessica Valdemar, unfaithful wife to an elderly and wealthy sugar daddy. Desperate to be rid of him, Jessica’s psychiatrist lover Robert (Ramy Zada) suggests hypnotising her husband into giving her his estate when he dies. During the hypnotism, M. Valdemar unexpectedly dies leaving his soul stranded between worlds. And his is not the only one. Astonishingly, of the two stories this is the weakest and one can’t help but wonder if Romero was in a hypnotic trance himself when making this. It’s a slow, ponderously pedestrian affair that’s an arduous fifty-five minutes to endure, and the bright, flat lighting is less cinematic, more TV movie of the week.

Argento’s The Black Cat is vastly superior. It’s Argento, but more restrained. He substitutes his usual bright colour palette for more subdued browns and greys, which compliments the subject matter well. Rod Usher, played by a manic Harvey Keitel, is a crime scene photographer, whose violin playing girlfriend (Madeleine Potter), adopts a black cat. The cat takes an instant dislike to Rod which seems to have a dramatic effect on his mood. He rapidly becomes unhinged and in so doing becomes prone to increasingly violent outbursts. Veteran thespians Martin Balsam and Kim Hunter round out the cast as thoroughly decent neighbours who suffer the fallout of Rod’s deteriorating sanity.

The special features, whilst not extensive, are considerably more than you get with standard Blu-ray releases today. The film is presented in both English and Italian, with newly translated English subtitles for the Italian presentation. Curiously the Romero segment doesn’t seem as ponderous in Italian. Double Vision is an interview with horror guru Kim Newman, discussing his first experience of the film at an LA critics screening. He also talks about both directors and their respective filmographies.

There’s also interviews with the second unit director Luigi Cozzi and former Hammer scream-queen Caroline Munro. Munro talks about working in Italian cinema, and in particular on Cozzi’s Starcrash. Cozzi talks at length about Two Evil Eyes, and how John Carpenter and Wes Craven were originally to be involved, but they pulled out. He also mentions how Harvey Keitel was difficult to work with at the beginning of the shoot, but he soon calmed down unlike his character. There’s the requisite trailer as you’d expect, but if you want limited edition lobby card reproductions, booklet notes by Dr Calum Waddell and the O-Card slipcase then you’d best get a move on and pick up your copy now as these are only available for the first print run by 88 Films.

All in all, Two Evil Eyes is one evil eye with perfect vision. The other eye has a cataract.

Extras: Double Vision: An Interview with Kim Newman, Two Evil Eyes: An Interview with Second Unit Director Luigi Cozzi and cult actress Caroline Munro, Italian Opening and Closing Credits, Theatrical Trailer, limited edition packaging

TWO EVIL EYES / CERT: 18 / DIRECTOR: DARIO ARGENTO, GEORGE A. ROMERO / SCREENPLAY: DARIO ARGENTO, GEORGE A. ROMERO / STARRING: ADRIENNE BARBEAU, HARVEY KEITEL, RAMY ZADA, MADELEINE POTTER / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW

Sometimes there is only the finest line between brilliance and mediocrity.

Take Aaron Harvey’s film The Neighbour, for example. Its premise is simple, but universal; it features a potentially award-worthy central performance from one of America’s finest but least recognised talents (and the rest of the cast is pretty good too), it forgoes that most oft-trod route of throwing fireworks where a slow-burn is more suitable, it’s beautifully shot in a sort of carefully controlled Michael Mann / David Fincher style, and its resolution is appropriate to both characters and plot, rather than being dynamic for gratification’s sake. It has all the elements in place to make a really satisfying psychological thriller.

Yet it doesn’t quite work. And unfortunately, the reason it doesn’t quite work is the very thing that makes it so distinctive and almost fulfilling.

William Fichtner, who’s been gracing our screens since the late 1980s, and yet never seems to have achieved the profile or level of acclaim he almost certainly deserves, plays Mike, a middle-aged technical writer drifting in a marriage of routine, and whose world suddenly regains some colour when a newly wed young couple move in next door. But before long, Mike starts hearing evidence that his new neighbours’ relationship might be physical in all the wrong ways, and when he befriends Jenna (McNamee), the carefully maintained glue that holds his life together begins to become unstuck.

As someone who writes the text for instruction manuals, Fichtner brilliantly portrays the quiet solitude of a lifetime without creativity or variety; he’s totally believable as the stiff and awkward man who teeters ambiguously on the brink between empathy and voyeurism – equal parts creepy and sympathetic – and The Neighbour never really confirms either way. That’s a brave and potentially interesting direction to take, but it’s also a decision that undermines the film’s effectiveness. Because this is a story that unravels so painfully slowly, and keeps its protagonist at just enough of a remove from the viewer, that what should be a gradual incrementation of tension instead veers perilously close to being boring.

Which is a real shame, as each of the individual elements is so very finely judged as not to be an issue in itself. The relationship between Mike and Lisa (Kelly) feels authentic in a slightly awkward but nevertheless repetitiously loving way, enough so that when it slips, the cracks that caused it to do so feel realistically apparent. And the neighbours are equally credible, Scott (Rosenbaum) rather boorish but not overstatedly so, and Jenna dutiful without being submissive. The characters all feel real, in other words.

The Neighbour, then, is just about absorbing enough to hold your attention until its powerful but bleak finale. But only just.

Extras: none

THE NEIGHBOUR / CERT: 15 / DIRECTOR: AARON HARVEY / SCREENPLAY: RICHARD BYARD, AARON HARVEY / STARRING: WILLIAM FICHTNER, JESSICA McNAMEE, JEAN LOUISA KELLY, MICHAEL ROSENBAUM, COLIN WOODELL, ERICH ANDERSON / RELEASE DATE: 5^TH NOVEMBER

Independent gore auteur Todd Sheets’ latest is a step back from the epic, sweeping madness of his last film, Dreaming Purple Neon. Whereas that film featured multiple locales, a descent into the underworld, and overlapping tales of characters affected by the titular drug, Bonehill Road sees the writer-director pulling back into something more intimate. Aside from a few brief scenes to set the stage at the film’s outset, the majority of this abduction-cum-werewolf movie takes place in a car and a remote Missouri farmhouse.

All that being said, however, this is a Todd Sheets movie, and with that comes many quarts of blood, accompanying gruesome depictions of onscreen violence. That’s what viewers come to Sheets’ direct-to-video films to see, and that’s what he delivers. It’s helped by Joe Castro’s makeup effects, especially the werewolves, which get a solid amount of high-profile screentime. They’re not especially expressive, but they’re scary as anything, and very reminiscent of the giant, monstrous rabbit from Twilight Zone: The Movie – like a cartoon come to life.

The acting is competent, with Eli DeGeer and Ana Rojas-Plumberg as respective mother and daughter pair Emily and Eden Stevens getting the most screen time, alongside Douglas Epps’ scenery-chewing Coen Anders and a cameo appearance from genre veteran Linnea Quigley as Suzy, one of Anders’ captives. They scream and run well, and DeGeer gets a nice chance to show off some of her chops in a post-credits scene.

The downside is that Bonehill Road suffers from some major padding to reach its 87-minute runtime. The opening credits run four minutes, there’s a three minute “flashback” montage at the end, and the closing credits are about five, meaning a solid tenth of the film isn’t really movie at all. It’s pretty fine for being so lean, but it’s definitely a case of getting to the bloody meat of the film and watching some chopping and gnawing, rather than exploring anything in any detail.

BONEHILL ROAD / CERT: UNRATED / DIRECTOR: TODD SHEETS / SCREENPLAY: TODD SHEETS / STARRING: LINNEA QUIGLEY, DILYNN FAWN HARVEY, GARY KENT, ELI DeGEER / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW

Full Moon Video’s new 8-part Bunker Of Blood aims to provide gore fans with something of an all-encompassing “greatest hits” collection, with each instalment centred around a specific theme or franchise. Kicking off this latest venture is Puppet Master – Blitzkrieg Massacre, a 60-minute compilation of marionette mayhem culled from nearly 30 years’ worth of Puppet Master movies.

Introduced with comic book slides specially drawn for this presentation, we’re told that an unknown drifter is being held captive by The Circle Of Psycho Surgeons, a secretive bunch of sinister doctors who are experimenting with humanity’s threshold for pain and suffering. Hearing the call of “The Gore Collector”, the drifter makes his escape and pays him a visit, ending up watching a videotape which aims to warp the drifter’s mind to the point where he eventually becomes as twisted as the Gore Collector himself. Bonkers. The illustrations themselves are nice enough, but the voiceover is… shall we say less than stellar? And while it’s a nice premise, it’s all done within the opening two minutes of the film, with the rest of the story set to play out through future Bunker of Blood intro scenes.

The hour of death and chaos that follows is entertaining enough to begin with (although often more for the dodgy acting rather than the inventiveness of the carnage itself), things start to feel a bit tiresome long before the halfway mark. Around the 15 minute mark there was a temptation to hunt for a box of matches and watch the rest of the hour Clockwork Orange-style… Toulon’s puppets are equipped with a variety of implements that give plenty of scope for inventive carnage and humour (both intentional and otherwise), but there are only so many times you can see Tunneler drill through some nameless person’s stomach or Torch set a random dude on fire before the longing for something slightly more meaty starts to kick in.

There’s definitely enough weird and crazy content for someone with a bit of creative nouse to make something genuinely trippy with, but scenes are included here in their original form with no snappy cuts or edits and some of them drag on far too long. What we end up with, on occasion, is 5 minutes of faffing around while we wait for yet another character we don’t know or care about to meet their maker, with the end product coming across more like a haphazardly cobbled together Youtube playlist rather than the “all-out assault to the senses” promised by the back of the box. At least 20 minutes worth of fluff could have been removed without anyone noticing, potentially resulting in speeding up the overall presentation and turning it into the madcap experience we were expecting. Not the most thrilling of starts then, and while it’s not necessarily something to completely avoid, it’s certainly a difficult one to fully recommend.

BUNKER OF BLOOD CHAPTER 1: PUPPET MASTER – BLITZKRIEG MASSACRE / CERT: UNRATED / DIRECTOR: VARIOUS / SCREENPLAY: VARIOUS / STARRING: BLADE, PINHEAD, JESTER, TUNNELER, LEECH WOMAN, TORCH / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW

Okay, let’s lay out the facts first: In Another World With My Smartphone is both an isekai show and a harem show. For seasoned anime fans, those two terms alone will determine whether this is your cup of tea. For those of us who are less salty, the isekai means ‘another world’ – it’s right there in the title – and the premise of the show has fifteen-year old Touya accidentally killed by God, and resurrected in a fantasy world. Touya asks for one concession – that he keeps his smartphone.

From there he encounters a pair of questing sisters and joins a Guild, using the incredible magical abilities granted to him by a guilty God. The sisters are the first two in what becomes his harem, a collection of women vying for his romantic attentions. The early parts of the show are heavy on action and conflict, although the unbelievably powerful protagonist strips all jeopardy from such encounters, before even that is surrendered to the construction of his harem. And this is where it becomes problematic for anyone who cannot simply shrug and say “Japan!”

Touya is fifteen. He has just lost the life he knew, and all the people in it, and seems remarkably unfazed by it all. This may be because he’s just not that bothered by anything, certainly he fails to notice that the girls he’s collecting have any intentions towards him, leading to some embarrassing moments. Furthermore, although he’s casually informed by God that polygamy is normal in this world, he is also – SPOILER! – engaged to be married to a twelve-year old. Japan! Cue all kinds of fan service as Touya ogles the curves (and not-so-curves) of all his girls, which later includes a six hundred-year old loli and a horny robot, as the show settles into a low-peril magical comedy of manners.

And this is what divides In Another World From My Smartphone from its isekai brethren: at no point do you consider that Touya is in any danger from this bizarre new world, and neither do you doubt he will end up with a gaggle of pre and pubescent girls sharing his life (the horny robot prophesises that there will be nine in the end). The age of the main character, and the level of innuendo threaded throughout the show, squarely aim it at the mid-teen market, yet the set-ups, breezily-dispatched enemies, and absolute lack of consequence or emotion are such that no-one who has reached that age could not fail to feel insulted by it.

Having said that, everyone needs some fluff in their life, and the show is well-animated, the Japanese voice acting is great (and the English dub from Funimation does its job, if that’s your thing), and Touya is a likeable – if slight – protagonist. There are much better isekai out there but sometimes you just fancy toast instead of a full English…

Extras: Episode Commentaries / Textless Opening Song / Textless Closing Song

IN ANOTHER WORLD WITH MY SMARTPHONE – THE COMPLETE SERIES / CERT: 15 / DIRECTOR: TAKEYUKI YANASE / SCREENPLAY: AARON DISMUKE / STARRING: JOSH GRELLE, JILL HARRIS, LEAH CLARK / RELEASE DATE:  OCTOBER 29TH

The (counter) cultural revolution of the 1960s arrived, progressed and manifested itself in fits and starts, bursting onto international cinema screens with 1960’s À Bout de Souffle, heralding the confirmation of Cahiers du Cinéma’s La Nouvelle Vague, already spreading slowly but irresistibly across the continent from there. In the UK, 1959 had produced Room at the Top and Look Back in Anger, and further afield Miloš Forman would soon make his name in Czechoslovakia with Hoří, má Panenko (1967). Less celebrated in this country, but equally revolutionary there, Forman’s countrywoman Věra Chytilová was banned domestically for a decade for her milestone of the Nová Vlna, Sedmikrásky (aka Daisies), now being issued on remastered Blu-ray by Second Run.

The eponymous ‘daisies’ – ironically Bellis perennis, ‘eternally beautiful’, in Latin – are two girls whose experiences the film documents, across a brief hour-and-a-quarter. Like the flower (the name Daisy is an abstraction of Margaret, although an alternative name for the daisy in the UK is Mary’s Rose; the protagonists are both known as Marie according to the script, albeit not on-screen), the girls are pretty but ephemeral, capricious and uninvited. Daisies pre-empts punk as much as it anticipates the Summer of Love, and it’s a destructive, unpredictable commentary on the regime that would lead to the brief blossoming of the Prague Spring in 1968.

The Maries, who share an apartment but get no further backstory than that, devise an arrangement whereby the slightly prettier, brunette (Cerhová) seduces older men, getting herself invited to dinner dates at which the slightly madder, blonde (Karbanová) arrives to ruin the meal (having each partaken of it) and send the prospective lothario running for the train (it’s always a train). Both girls are shown to be behaving on instinct rather than with aforethought, and an unplanned trip to the countryside leaves them questioning the fact of their own existence. Shortly afterwards, they find themselves at the venue for an imminent government dinner, and tear the dining hall to pieces, gorging on the food and drink as they do so.

It’s a symbolic film comprised of deliberately inconsistent artifice both in its look and sound (the score is largely light jazz-based, and the film flips from colour to various monochromes both during and between scenes), an approach that serves a narrative which never seeks coherency. And as much as it predicts a revolution, Daisies also forewarns of a subsequent return to the status quo – and its conclusions are ultimately as damning upon its heroes as they are on its intended targets.

This is a terrific Blu-ray edition, however, with a raft of worthwhile extras and a picture that’s lovely and sharp – but not so cleaned up as to undermine the feature’s authenticity.

 

Extras: trailer, two retrospective commentaries, Journey: a 2004 film portrait of director Vĕra Chytilová

DAISIES (SEDMIKRÁSKY) (1966)  / CERT: 15 / DIRECTOR: VĔRA CHYTILOVÁ / SCREENPLAY: VĔRA CHYTILOVÁ / STARRING: JITKA CERHOVÁ, IVANA KARBANOVÁ, MARIE ČEŠKOVÁ, JIŘINA MYŠKOVÁ, MARCELA BŘEZINOVÁ, JULIUS ALBERT / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW