Review Category: DVD/Blu Ray

If you’re still a physical media kind of person – and rumours of the death of the format are greatly exaggerated, so you really should be – and you only plan on buying one archive TV DVD boxset in 2016, you need to make sure it’s Network’s long-overdue and comprehensive re-release of the classic ITV children’s series Timeslip. First screened in 1970, this intelligent, well-crafted twenty-six-episode series, although enjoying none of the profile of its louder, ballsier sci-fi stablemates from the 1960s and 1970s, is often cited as one of the most memorable and downright important genre series ever screened on British TV. It’s a series which has certainly stayed in the imaginations of the audience who were captivated by it at the time despite its lack of extravagant special effects and quite possibly because of its emphasis on concept and character. Timeslip was decades ahead of its time with storylines involving cryogenics, cloning and global warming and it explored the idea of time travel with far more integrity and intelligence than any of its contemporaries, even the much quainter Doctor Who.

In The Wrong End of Time, the first of four serials, Liz Skinner (Cheryl Burfield) and her parents, along with young Simon Randall (Spencer Banks), the son of Liz’s father’s best friend, are enjoying a lazy summer holiday in the remote village of St Oswald. Simon, whose mother has recently passed away, is the studious sort but eventually Liz manages to prize him away from his reading and they wander off to investigate their surroundings and the crumbling ruins of a wartime naval research station. Here, in amongst the rotting fence posts, they find something quite extraordinary; an invisible, shimmering forcefield – a barrier. Liz finds a gap in this barrier – and promptly disappears. Alarmed, Simon follows her into the invisible ‘gap’ – and the pair suddenly find that day has become night and that the deserted naval base is no longer rundown and abandoned. They discover, to their astonishment, that they’ve somehow travelled back in time to the 1940s and that the research station is working on the development of laser technology for use in the ongoing war effort. The station’s commanding office Traynor (Dennis Quilley), an older version of whom they have already encountered in St Oswald, is brisk and officious and Liz realises that fresh-faced young rating Frank Skinner (no, not that one) is actually a younger version of her own middle-aged Dad who, back in Liz’s time, can’t quite remember what happened at the naval station and why he was invalided out of Service before the end of the conflict.  Then a shock group of Germans arrive and requisition the base…

If you’ve never seen Timeslip, if you weren’t part of that generation which thrilled to the twists and turns and the bustling imagination of this glorious series back in 1970, you really owe it to yourself to grab a copy of this new DVD set as soon as possible. Whilst the show is aimed at children and the two lead characters are squeaky-voiced teens (it’s entirely possible that Liz’s nails-across-blackboard screeching will quickly become an issue as you make your way through the series), the writing is intelligent, measured and wonderfully prescient. During its development its initial six-episode commission was quickly extended and certainly this reviewer can still recall his falling-off-the-seat astonishment at the end of episode six when Liz and Simon finally escape from the 1940s, crawl through ‘the time barrier’ (as it becomes known) and find themselves in an entirely-unexpected frozen Antarctic (albeit utterly studio-realised) wilderness. The second serial, The Time of the Ice Box, is set in a sterile research establishment in 1990 where Liz encounters future versions of herself and her mother and Simon becomes fascinated by longevity experiments being carried out under the watchful eye of the brusque and oddly-inhuman Professor Devereux (John Barron). The eight-episode Year of the Burn-Up is a bit more of a slog and sees the travellers pitch up in an alternate 1990 where global warming has turned England into a tropical jungle. The final six episodes, Day of the Clone, drift between 1965 and 1970 and offer a final confrontation between Liz and Simon and various versions of characters who have been influencing their lives since their first encounter with the time barrier months earlier.

Although much of Timeslip was created and written ‘on the fly’ as the series was repeatedly extended, the through-line of the narrative stands up remarkably well and continuity is tight as the series becomes increasingly convoluted and moves away from its initial intriguing and innovative premise of ‘time-sensitive’ children being able to access the “energy” of traumatic historical events or incidents and thus able to access the past itself. Mature scripting, eschewing the silly monsters and far-fetched high camp storylines of many similar shows of the era, allows the series to develop as a proper, full-blooded, thought-provoking drama which never talks down to its target audience of youngsters and, as a consequence, Timeslip found itself appealing equally to a more sophisticated adult audience fascinated by the show’s web of paradoxes and forward-thinking concepts.   Obviously the show now looks its age – teenagers like Liz and Simon just don’t exist anymore – but the series still works because of the earnestness of its performances (newcomers Banks and Burfield match their more experienced fellow cast-members such as Quilley and Barron beat for beat) and its determination to tell a gripping, intelligent, wildly-imaginative story which never tips into the realms of the fanciful and the far-fetched.

Network have drawn together a comprehensive collection of supporting material, much of which has only been available to the show’s small but passionate fan community; the 93-minute Beyond the Barrier making of documentary hails from 2009 and is especially notable for the startling number of  cast and crew who have since passed away; raw footage of a cast visit to the show’s time-barrier location (the famous fence posts are still standing despite a massive residential development in the area); convention footage; and a charming 2005 fan-produced mini-episode (script edited by series producer Ruth Boswell) which sees Liz and Simon returning to the barrier thirty years later. New material includes an extensive photo gallery and Andrew Pixley’s exhaustive souvenir booklet which is really the last word on the making of this classic, iconic piece of 20th century children’s television. Timeslip – much of it was filmed in colour but due to the junking of the original tapes, only one episode remains in colour – is over four decades old but it’s still a terrific and essential piece of genre television which will not only find favour with its ageing original audience but should also appeal to newcomers tired of the empty spectacle of much of today’s TV sci-fi.  Find time for Timeslip – it’s a trip through the TV time-barrier which you simply won’t regret.

Special Features: Production booklet / Documentary / Photo gallery / Conventions footage / Mini-episode / Location visit footage

TIMESLIP: THE COMPLETE SERIES / CERT: U / DIRECTOR: JOHN COOPER, PETER JEFFERIES, RON FRANCIS, DAVID FOSTER / SCREENPLAY: BRUCE STEWART, VICTOR PEMBERTON / STARRING: SPENCER BANKS, CHERYL BURFIELD, DENNIS QUILLEY, IRIS RUSSELL, DEREK BENFIELD, JOHN BARRON / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW

 

Writer/director Alex Ross Perry’s newest feature begins on a static close-up of Catherine’s (Elizabeth Moss), anguished, desolate, make-up smeared face. It’s a suitably uncomfortable opening image to a film that revels in the painstaking, petulant confrontations between its largely intolerable characters. Following the death of Catherine’s dad and her split with boyfriend James (Kentucker Audley) she seeks solace in her best friend Virginia’s (Katherine Waterston) tranquil lake house retreat. But this is no buddy comedy and the eerily calm setting soon brings the pair’s inner resentments bubbling to the surface, taking Catherine to the edges of insanity.

An intoxicating feeling of dread looms across Queen of Earth that often makes it feel more like a slasher movie than an intimate psychological character drama. Keegan DeWitt’s ominous score along with some unsettling and intriguing camera work from Sean Prince Williams help construct this imminent sense of violence which engulfs the film. But the only assault here is between the two besties, their continually acidic exchanges help create an entirely suffocating atmosphere. It’s a wonder how they ever became friends in the first place as flashbacks to last summer’s venture to the lake house illustrate a mean-spirited competitiveness between the two even then. Both are privileged, self-absorbed narcissists who are prone to needless confrontation and fail each other as friends on pretty much every level. Perry does little to soften these characters as they pry on each other’s flaws and he also takes an oblique approach to the narrative which makes for a somewhat emotionally disengaging experience.

All of this doesn’t exactly work as much of an advert for Queen of Earth but Perry’s stylish direction and a captivating performance from Moss deserve to be seen no matter how alienating the film can be. Catherine’s descent into madness is masterfully managed by Moss; her micro-expressions and subtle changes in voice inflection capture her unravelling with inch perfect precision. An unsettlingly controlled tirade directed at Virginia’s antagonistic neighbour Rich (Patrick Fugit) is by far the film’s stand-out moment – “You are why people betray one another. You are why there is nowhere safe or happy anymore. You are why depression exists.” It’s a particularly disquieting instance which Perry heightens by locking on to Catherine, as he does throughout the film. His camera witnesses every detail of her breakdown up-close from her hostile exchanges with Virginia and Rich to her maniac laughter and dazed smiles. Waterston puts in a nuanced if less flashy display as the passive-aggressive queen Virginia but Moss’ enthralling, fearless turn is what really resonates.

This may be human behaviour at its most ugly and foul yet it’s impossible to not be drawn into Perry’s scathing look at middle-class respectability and the disintegration of a friendship. Buoyed by smart direction, arresting cinematography and a career-best performance from Moss this is chamber-piece cinema at its most breathtakingly snide, wince-inducing and distressing.

QUEEN OF EARTH / CERT: 15 / DIRECTOR & SCREENPLAY: ALEX ROSS PERRY / STARRING: ELIZABETH MOSS, KATHERINE WATERSTON, PATRICK FUGIT, KENTUCKER AUDLEY / RELEASE DATE: JULY 11TH

 

Throughout The Lesson, debutant director Ruth Platt weaves a narrative that is littered with complexity. From the exploration of totalitarianism in Orwell, to a gauged look at contemporary Britain, this is a film evidently from the mind of an educated (Literature at Oxford if you must know) individual. 

Made on a shoestring budget, Platt’s film is an amalgamation of themes with a torture porn twist. In an overt social commentary on the education system, and perhaps generally the youth of modern Britannia, The Lesson sees a mistreated teacher (Hands) finally snap as he attempts to teach his two most troublesome pupils (Bendall & Coltart) a proper lesson… With the aid of a nail-gun.

The protagonist Finn (Bendall) is interesting; in many ways he is an embodiment of what it means to be a youth in suburban England today, disenfranchised and existential, wandering around cul-de-sacs and parks whilst necking cheap cider and talking of leaving a country he knows he’ll probably reside in for the rest of his days. There is also an Eden Lake feel to his character though, as if the line between troubled working class lad and chav-culture caricature has been blurred, at one point he claims “you can’t be a foreigner if you’re English”. Perhaps Platt sets up Finn’s ignorance to later be quelled in a Francis Bacon/Thomas Hobbes “knowledge is power” sort of message, but in reality he just isn’t a very nice kid.

Robert Hands performance as the twisted teacher Mr. Gale is one of the majorly impressive aspects of the film. He screams about the societal allegories of Golding whilst giving Finn ten seconds to look up the meaning of ‘allegory’ in the dictionary, in a menacing game that is half lecture, half torture. For a low-budget horror the practical effects are pretty convincing too, even if they err on the side of being too exploitative.

Ultimately, Platt has done a pretty good job of presenting horror with a heart. The whole film at times though feels somewhat strangled by its overkill of themes; to some degree an art house flick, yet at points just another B-movie. Painful acting negates certain scenes and some narrative threads dangle upon climax. Nevertheless, The Lesson is a solid debut and hopefully Platt will continue to refine her clearly intelligent filmmaking into slightly more cohesive realms. 

THE LESSON / CERT: TBC / DIRECTOR: RUTH PLATT / SCREENPLAY: RUTH PLATT / STARRING: ROBERT HANDS, EVAN BENDALL, RORY COLTART, MICHAELA PRCHALOVA, TOM COX / RELEASE DATE: JULY 11TH

Old Hollywood, film sets, film directing, film production… and a kidnapping? That sounds like pure gold for the Coen Brothers, and surprisingly, Hail, Caesar! may be the most serious comedy of 2016. Despite being a dark parody about the Hollywood Industry from the 1950s, at its core, it actually tackles a complex and true human dilemma: how to live a life of faith and service in a stressful and corrupt modern world. The Coens use 1950s Hollywood as that symbol of modernity, where despite the glamour and panache of moviemaking, there’s something crazy and uncontrollable beneath the surface. 

The film is presented to us as a light-hearted comedy that takes a parodic-stab at portraying and capturing the foibles of how people acted within the Hollywood film industry of the 1950s; we see the larger-than-life sins at play, like immorality, stupidity, intoxication and the like, which are all general failings of humanity. This movie presents those themes perfectly in darkly comic fashion, setting them against the dramatic backdrop of the movie trade, as well as the parasitic gossip-publication industry, as personified by Tilda Swinton’s twin gossip-columnists. But at the core, it’s about a hard-working man who is caught within a dilemma of his own in the form of a choice between two jobs: Either continue working as the amoral and illegal “fixer” of Hollywood or take up a far easier and more financially rewarding job in order to spend more time with his family. He questions which job would better serve God’s will and we see him confessing to his priest occasionally during the course of the film, and by the end, the path he ultimately chooses ends up defining him and makes him better for it.

Despite the weighty subtext, the Coens succeeds by injecting that famous quirky, offbeat humour they are famous for, as the film is superbly charming, witty and hilarious all the way through. There are plenty of comedic highlights that pack a punch and stick with you long after the film is finished, whether it’s George Clooney chewing the scenery for all it’s worth and giving his character from O Brother, Where Art Thou? A run for his money, Tilda Swinton being hilariously deadpan, Channing Tatum being an absolute goofball, or Ralph Fiennes trying to teach Alden Ehrenreich the art of dramatic acting (“Would that it were so simple”). Also, the three-minute sequence where a diverse religious group (a Catholic priest, a rabbi, an Eastern Orthodox priest, and a Protestant minister) debates the acceptability of the movie studio’s depiction of God is pure dynamite. 

There are even certain sections that are gems, where the Coens’ attempt to pay homage to the classic era of Hollywood, with Scarlett Johansson synchronised swimming sequence harking back to Esther Williams, Channing Tatum’s Gene Kelly-esque song and dance routine, and the production of Hail, Caesar- itself a direct parody of the dramatic epic movies of Kirk Douglas like Spartacus. Plus, Roger Deakins’ visual artistry is beautiful to behold, and further goes to show why this man is an unsung hero in the art of cinematography. The performances throughout are all charming and play off against the Coens’ script perfectly, with Josh Brolin lending real weight and gravitas to the role of Eddie Mannix, whilst rising-star Alden Ehrenreich is brilliantly witty, as he bounces off against real acting heavyweights like Brolin and Fiennes. No wonder this guy’s going to be the young Han Solo! 

Charming, witty, and packed with underlying emotional beats, Hail, Caesar! is a rich film that is packed with gorgeous period detail and a cast that fits perfectly into their respective roles. While it is true that, when compared to some of the Coens’ classics like Fargo or Miller’s Crossing, Hail, Caesar! does somewhat pale in comparison, but as it stands, this remains a solid gem in the Coen Brothers’ unique filmography and manages to be a light-hearted love letter to Hollywood’s Golden Age.

HAIL, CAESAR! / CERT: 12A / DIRECTORS & SCREENPLAY: JOEL & ETHAN COHEN / STARRING: GEORGE CLOONEY, JOSH BROLIN, ALDEN EHRENREICH, SCARLETT JOHANSSON, RALPH FIENNES, CHANNING TATUM, FRANCES MCDORMAND, TILDA SWINTON / RELEASE DATE: JULY 11TH

From Chinese director Stephen Chow, the man who brought us comedy action extravaganza Kung-Fu Hustle, comes fantasy love story The Mermaid. It’s a weird adventure and one that seems odd for China’s highest grossing film of all time.

Essentially, The Mermaid is an adult fairy tale, a retelling of The Little Mermaid with a bonkers sense of humour. Seriously, it doesn’t matter if you don’t like/never watch Chinese film, subtitled films, or fantasy; you will still laugh your arse off. Chow churns out his usual brand of sickeningly unlucky humour and ridiculous fantasy, allowing a set of well-developed characters the chance to put themselves in preposterously cruel situations. Botched assassinations and a brutal self-sushi sequence are top of the list for black comedy gold. You’re pretty much guaranteed to find something to wince at.

After Shaolin Soccer and Kung-Fu Hustle, it would have been nice to see a bit more action. But then, the film is never more charming than when it focuses on the smaller picture, allowing performers Deng Chao and Jelly Lin to showcase their comic timing and the excellent dialogue. The digital effects are a strange issue too. Due to the overall garishness of the film, the ropey effects shouldn’t be too much of an eyesore but a lot of it looks plain bad. Maybe that’s purposeful, considering that The Mermaid is about the collision of two very different worlds, perhaps never better actualised than through the dodgy reality-meets-fantasy aesthetic of the mer-people. I suppose there’s a point to be made here: just because you can see the strings, doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the puppet show.

The charms of Chow’s latest aren’t limited to a finely tuned humour or romance. The production design of the mermaid hideaway is a thing of obnoxious splendour, a derelict ship full of colour and vibrancy. Some ace song choices, zany editing, and –if those aren’t your interests- jetpack shenanigans, prove a live-wire appreciation for shameless fun. Thankfully, Chow knows not to ditch his nastier tastes in the face of the fairy tale-isms, keeping a fairly grotesque sensibility throughout without going too far. At its nastiest, the violence is shocking, whilst at its most reserved it has the capacity to be hilarious.

This isn’t quite a film for all ages, there’s too much eco-chat and business jargon early on to keep kids happy, but there’s so much good-natured humour and fantastical imagery that it feels like it might bridge a gap. At the very least, adults will really appreciate having such a pleasantly acidic and hilarious bedtime fairy tale.

THE MERMAID / CERT: 15 / DIRECTOR: STEPHEN CHOW / SCREENPLAY: VARIOUS / STARRING: CHAO DENG, YUN LIN, SHOW LUO, YUQI ZHANG / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW

 

Inspired by The Duellists and a visit to Scotland, Highlander tells us the story of immortal Connor MacLeod, a man born in 1518 and who cannot die unless decapitated by others like him. As the opening title card explains, these immortals fight to the death through the centuries as they battle to the last. The last one left standing receives the mysterious Prize, “power beyond imagination”. At its heart, it’s a simple film. The good guy is obvious; the bad guy is equally obvious. Hell, it’s an ‘80s film – the bad guy is the only Russian dude. The swordfights are neat too. We like swords.

But nearly everybody involved agrees that the real appeal of the film lies in its tragic love story, as Connor watches his wife grow old and die in his arms. All this is backed by a superb score, composed by the musical powerhouses of Queen and Michael Kamen (Lethal Weapon, Die Hard).

Let’s not forget the star power in this film. Clancy Brown (The Shawshank Redemption, Spongebob Squarepants) is the perfect physically intimidating opponent. In the end, it’s Sean Connery who steals the show as Connor’s wise Egyptian mentor.

There are only two new interviews on this release (the rest come from previous releases) and the cover art is bland. The main attraction is the 4K restoration; there is a clear improvement in this new release. The scenes which really benefit are anything taking place in the Highlands, as the gorgeous cinematography captures the bright colours and natural beauty of Scotland. Mind you, the transition from the battlefield through Connor’s eye still looks awful.

As this film is close to our hearts, it would be the easiest thing in the world to give it a 10-star rating. Yet we can’t bring ourselves to do it. It’s a flawed film, there’s no getting around that. Homophobic slurs are casually tossed around, women are damsels in distress and it’s frustrating to see some of the most important aspects of the film go unexplained. What exactly is the Quickening? Would Connor’s seduction actually work? Why is Connor wearing three layers in every New York scene (including a trench coat over a leather jacket)? But all this does help to give the film an air of mystery and depth.

In Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, Will Ferrell’s character states that Highlander won the Academy Award for ‘best movie ever made’. It’s nowhere near that but it will always be one of our favourites. For a good feeling and a renewed sense of purpose, there’s nothing else like it. Films like this are why cinema is a medium worth keeping.

HIGHLANDER (1986) / CERT: 15 / DIRECTOR: RUSSELL MULCAHY / SCREENPLAY: GREGORY WIDEN, PETER BELLWOOD, LARRY FERGUSON / STARRING: CHRISTOPHER LAMBERT, ROXANNE HART, CLANCY BROWN, SEAN CONNERY / RELEASE DATE: JULY 11TH

 

When you think of pioneers in the field of sci-fi feature films, only one nation springs to mind: Denmark. No, really. Verdens Undergang (1916) and Himmelskibet (1918) are two of the earliest examples and they’re both from the people who brought us LEGO. They’re pretty good too: Verdens Undergang is a comet-induced end-of-the-worlder while Himmelskibet still seems uncannily like Star Trek to this day. In fact, Himmelskibet is essential viewing and they’re both on a single DVD if you have a root round the ‘net. But after this glorious-yet-silent start, the Danes left the genre alone for 43 years only to return at the back-end of the ‘50s creature-feature era. But once more they went for it with aplomb. The world would be a slightly duller place without Reptilicus.

The Danes are mining for copper in Lapland (and we know that’s not in Denmark) but dig up the tail of a giant lizard-thing instead. Although they assume it’s a fossil it clearly isn’t as it’s actually bleeding when they bring it to the surface. So they take it to Copenhagen, chuck it in a freezer and then accidentally defrost it by forgetting to shut the freezer door properly. Well it’s more plausible than the electric-blanket fiasco in The Thing from Another World (1951). As it turns out, this lizard-thing has the power to regenerate like a starfish (we don’t like those) so they actually let it grow before it escapes and does to Copenhagen what the Big G normally does to Tokyo.

Along the line we get a comedy caretaker (Dirch Passer), the chief scientist’s slightly terrifying daughters (one looks like a she wears her doll’s clothes) and some woeful special effects. Seriously, while the Americans had been favouring Ray Harryhausen for this sort of caper and even the Brit’s Gorgo (1961) used Japanese-style suitmation, what we have here is a puppet. A rubbish puppet, at that. Which is strange as a bit of cash was clearly spent: this is in colour. Perhaps that’s because they were trying to make Copenhagen look tourist-friendly (hence it being in English) although the guy in charge of the swing-bridge who panics, opens it, and sends hundreds of fleeing Danes into the water (with their bicycles) would put most people off. And for fans of our NATO allies we get to see the Danish Army turn up with Centurion tanks (so that’s who we sold them to) which might even be a sci-fi first. Throw in the Danish Navy on manoeuvres and you’ve got enough to keep this reviewer happy. Just a shame the movie’s only female scientist (Marla Behrens) points out that blowing a regenerating lizard into a million pieces with a depth-charge might be a bit dumb. Oh, and Reptilicus is a triphibian (it has wings) but, mercifully, we never see it fly.

Actually, while it’s a bit silly, Reptilicus is great fun and a must-see if it’s your mission in life to see every mid-20th century monster movie ever made. Everyone needs a hobby.

Special Features: None

REPTILICUS (1961) / CERT: PG /DIRECTOR: SIDNEY W. PINK / SCREENPLAY: IB MELCHOIR, SIDNEY W. PINK / STARRING: CARL OTTOSEN, ANN SMYRNER, MIMI HEINREICH, ASBJØRN ANDERSON, MARLA BEHRENS, POVL WØLDIKE, DIRCH PASSER, OLE WISBORG / RELEASED: JULY 4TH

The first thing that someone should know when watching Season 5 of Yu-Gi-Oh is that the DVD includes a spin-off show that originally aired years after the season concluded, which has been inserted in the middle of the season. When you combine this with the fact that Season 5 already consisted of two very different story arcs, it becomes harder to evaluate the whole series in a succinct manner. The real meat of the season starts on Disc 4 and what is true of the first three discs isn’t necessarily true of the latter four. Episodes 1 – 14 focus on a card game tournament, the next twelve episodes are more akin to what would happen if Yu-Gi-Oh met Digimon, and the rest depict the journey of the main characters to uncover the mysteries that lay at the heart of the series.

Luckily this is mitigated somewhat by the core group of characters maintaining a sense of cohesion over the series. The first fourteen episodes of the series was literally made to pad out the show, so it is important that we like the characters. Sadly, Yu-Gi-Oh doesn’t always bother to properly explain what is going on in terms of the plot. The final battle between the heroes and the main villain is described as a great game, but we are never really clued in on what the rules of that game are. Again, it is the characters and their motivations that are the real strength of the show, especially at times like this.

In the years since it started, Yu-Gi-Oh has become most famous for the card game that it inspired and which went from having a small appearance within the manga to taking it over almost entirely. In contrast to earlier seasons, Season 5 contains relatively little of the card game. Out of the three sections, only Grand Championship features it with any prominence. Dawn of the Duel (the final section of the season) only features three duels and the Capsule Monsters spin-off forgoes them entirely. Instead, characters spend most of their time in this boxset calling on monsters to defend them in the other worlds that they visit.

Yu-Gi-Oh Season 5 might feel a little disjointed at times, but despite its flaws it is a good send-off to the characters that fans grew up with as the show progressed. The different nature of the arcs within this season allow for everything from adventure to quieter, more reflective moments. Fans of the show are advised to check it out.

YU-GI-OH SEASON 5 / CERT: PG / DIRECTOR: HIROYUKI KAKUDOU / SCREENPLAY: VARIOUS / STARRING: DAN GREEN, WAYNE GRAYSON, AMY STUART, AMY BIRNBAUM / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW

One balmy evening, Alan Palmer (Arthur Kennedy) and his wife are driving through the Hollywood hills when someone happens to throw a bag of cash into the back of their car. A fortuitous case of mistaken identity, this random act sets in motion a series of events that will lead to deception and murder. Not only is Too Late for Tears one of the best examples of film noir, it introduces possibly the finest femme fatale in cinema: Jane Palmer.

The classic film noir era of the 1940s and 1950s proffered many femme fatales. Barbara Stanwyck in Double Indemnity, Lana Turner in The Postman Always Rings Twice and Mary Astor in The Maltese Falcon are all excellent examples but none inhabit the character with such malevolent verve as Lizabeth Scott. Jane Palmer is ruthless in her blinkered desire to keep hold of the money she wholeheartedly believes she deserves. Whether it is the callous murder of her husband when she senses his weakness, or the sexual manipulation of low level hood Danny (Dan Duryea), Jane is a woman overwhelmed by greed and ambition. Her’s is an extraordinary performance of implied vulnerability and husky seduction as she plots and schemes throughout, twisting every situation to her benefit until the web of her deception inevitably begins to fall apart.

The real beauty in the performance is that even at the end you retain some sympathy for her. You almost forgive the calculated murders, reluctantly understand her insatiable greed while always knowing Jane Palmer is headed towards a rather sticky end. In truth, apart from Kristine Miller as Jane’s suspicious sister-in-law Kathy, no-one in Too Late for Tears emerges with any credit. This is a film of damaged personas, a group of mismatched characters so convinced in the mundanity and bleakness of their futures that they will resort to the most desperate means possible to order to escape.

Martialling all this with a sense of enthusiastic voyeurism is Byron Haskin, a director most notable for his work in science fiction having helmed The War of the Worlds (1953) and Robinson Crusoe on Mars (1964). With Too Late for Tears he shares both the audience’s disgust and intrigue in his characters, allowing them wanton freedom as they lurch from one mistake to the next, seemingly without guidance or thought. This gives the film a feeling of pace and immediacy, as if decisions and choices are being made in real time leading to consequences and events as yet unknown.

Whether you’re a fan of film noir, or simply one of cinema itself, Too Late for Tears is a must-see. All the femme fatales that have followed, from Marion Cotillard (A Private Affair, Midnight in Paris) to Nicole Kidman (To Die For, The Paperboy) owe a spiritual debt to Lizabeth Scott and her depiction of the manipulative, murderous and wonderful Jane Palmer.

Special Features: Audio commentary from Alan K. Rode / Two featurettes / Gallery / Booklet

TOO LATE FOR YEARS / CERT: PG / DIRECTOR: BYRON HASKIN / SCREENPLAY: ROY HUGGINS / STARRING: LIZABETH SCOTT, DON DEFORE, DAN DURYEA, ARTHUR KENNEDY, KRISTINE MILLER / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW