Review Category: DVD/Blu Ray

Astonishingly, this is the first UK DVD release for Robert Zemeckis’ debut feature – which includes a first Executive Producer credit for a young Steven Spielberg. The two men would work together again the following year, with Zemeckis and co-writer Bob Gale providing the screenplay for Spielberg’s first flop 1941, an ostensibly similar film. But in terms of its tone and trajectory, I Wanna Hold Your Hand perhaps has more in common with George Lucas’ early picture American Graffiti.

It is the eve of The Beatles’ first appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show in 1964, and four girls in New Jersey each have different reasons for wanting to drive to New York – or not! – and for tracking the group down at their hotel. Rosie (Sperber) is in love with Paul, while Grace (Saldana) is a budding journalist and wants to get some surreptitious photos of the band. Meanwhile Pam (Allen) is due to elope with her fiancé and is against the whole idea, whereas Joan Baez fan Janis (Newman, whose father Paul is name-checked in one of the movie’s many in-jokes) thinks The Beatles are “fakes” and goes along only in order to protest their appearance. Grace suggests recruiting Larry (Superman: The Movie’s Marc McClure) as driver for the trip, as his father is an undertaker and he has access to limousines – a vehicle they hope will gain them admission to the hotel – and along the way they pick up greaser Tony (DiCicco), who couldn’t care less about the British band.

Only the first quarter of the film comprises the all-night road trip (an accidental detour to Philadelphia not included!), and with just a short sequence at the conclusion taking place in the TV studios, the majority of I Wanna Hold Your Hand encompasses the various adventures the six individuals get involved in, in and around the hotel where The Beatles are staying. As such it’s very much like both Spielberg’s post-Pearl Harbor comedy and Lucas’ coming of age film, cutting back and forth between the characters’ storylines as it saunters towards a final act that rewards them for having put them through assorted trials.

It’s a tremendously good-natured film, with an ending that’s pure fantasy but richly deserved, and very easy on both the eyes and the ears. The characterisation is vibrant and unassumingly exaggerated, and the performances naturally ostentatious in a way that feels attractively colourful rather than unnecessarily artificial. It’s an easy leap to see Zemeckis’ assured and unfussy direction, cast management, and confident control of crowds and period detail, leading to the Back to the Future trilogy and Forrest Gump. Brimming with life and guileless enthusiasm, I Wanna Hold Your Hand is a joy whether you’re a Beatles fan or not.

Special Features: gallery / commentary with Robert Zemeckis and Bob Gale

I WANNA HOLD YOUR HAND / CERT: 12 / DIRECTOR: ROBERT ZEMECKIS / SCREENPLAY: ROBERT ZEMECKIS, BOB GALE / STARRING: NANCY ALLEN, BOBBY DiCICCO, MARC McCLURE, SUSAN KENDALL NEWMAN, THERESA SALDANA, WENDIE JO SPERBER / RELEASE DATE: 25TH APRIL 

In 1983 American TV producer Sy Weintraub teamed up with British producer Otto Plaschkes to produce a new series of lavish TV feature films based on the exploits of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s legendary Great Detective Sherlock Holmes. But just around the corner were Granada TV, whose
Jeremy Brett-starring series was already in the planning stages (and which was to go on to deliver, for many, the definitive interpretation of the character) so Weintraub’s plans ground to halt with just two films – The Hound of the Baskervilles and The Sign of Four – ultimately made. With Holmes currently fashionable again thanks to Benedict Cumberbatch, Jonny Lee Miller and even Robert Downey Jnr, The Sign of Four makes a timely reappearance on DVD to remind us of what could have been.

Starring Ian Richardson as Holmes, 1983’s The Sign of Four is a brisk, no-nonsense adaptation of the second full-length Holmes novel. The story is one of the more complex in the Doyle canon, involving a secret cache of diamonds, a one-legged man, a boat chase along the Thames, a mysterious “small man” and the first appearance of Mary Morstan who eventually becomes betrothed to Dr Watson in Doyle’s original stories (even though it is to be a short-lived union). Ian Richardson is a clipped, jaunty Holmes and all the tropes and cliches are present and correct from the familiar ‘deerstalker’ image of the character and David Healy’s slightly pompous Dr Watson (a portrayal popularised by Nigel Bruce in the Rathbone 1930s-40s film series and which only became less of a caricature in the Brett TV version) and the film is filled with choking London smogs, hansom cabs and ragged urchins scurrying about in the employ of Holmes himself.

Production values are excellent with plenty of exterior sequences cleverly utilising then-derelict portions of the capital (especially around Butler’s Wharf near Tower Bridge, now a popular and affluent residential area packed with trendy bars and cafes) and even the river chase manages to conceal any sign of the bustling 1980s metropolis just a few hundred feet away. Deviations from the original text are inevitable but they remain sympathetic to the labyrinthine plot which, in its first hour at least, is dialogue heavy and action-light. But there’s time for some wit, too, especially in a scene  where Holmes and Watson journey back to Baker Street on a variety of rattling bicycles and carts and pretty much all Holmes boxes are ticked – even “Elementary, my dear Watson!” is rolled out –  with the inclusion of a witty sequence where Holmes disguises himself as a sozzled old sailor to procure information from a boatman’s wife, bamboozling Watson in the process.

This version of The Sign of Four brings nothing new to Sherlock Holmes  – as an American co-production the idea was probably to be as traditional and retro as possible – but Ian Richardson has an easy, affable charm and brings a passion and vigour to a role which Brett would redefine just a few months later in the Granada series. But this is an enjoyable, by-the-numbers romp which more than does the Great Detective justice and, in an era when doing Holmes ‘straight’ isn’t on anyone’s agenda, it’s a reminder of just why Sherlock Holmes remains one of the most iconic and enduringly-popular characters in British literature.

Special feature: Commentary

THE SIGN OF FOUR/CERT: PG/DIRECTOR: DESMOND DAVIS/SCREENPLAY: CHARLES EDWARD POGUE/STARRING: IAN RICHARDSON, DAVID HEALY, THORLEY WALTERS, CHERI LUNGHI, RICHARD HEFFER, CLIVE MERRISON/RELEASE DATE: 25th APRIL
 

As enigmatic as its title, William Peter Blatty’s ‘The Ninth Configuration’ confounded critics and an indifferent public when it was released in 1980. Now that the film is out on Blu-ray, can a quality upgrade make what’s actually going on in the film any clearer?

Author of ‘The Exorcist’ William Peter Blatty has long been a man steeped in concerns with religion, faith and man’s place in the universe. His phenomenal world-wide success at writing about the Devil and the corrupting forces of evil was not, however, matched when he turned his attention the other side of the ideological coin.

In a remote castle somewhere in California, a military institution for men suffering with mental health issues has some unorthodox ways of dealing with patients. Most of the men are facing traumas following the war in Vietnam, whilst one is a famed astronaut (Scott Wilson) who abandoned his trip to the moon, terrified at the thought of dying alone. Into this literal madhouse, a new psychiatrist, (Stacy Keach) joins the medical doctor (Ed Flanders) and various military personnel to try to get to the root of the patients’ issues. But, amidst situations like two of the inmates (a great double act from Jason Miller and horror stalwart Joe Spinell) mounting the works of Shakespeare for dogs, and various theological conversations about the possibility of God in a post-war world, not everything at the asylum is exactly as it seems.

Serving as author, screenwriter, actor and director for ‘The Ninth Configuration’, Blatty’s strengths are also his weaknesses. The film is confusing, confounding, ridiculous and chaotic, as is reflected in the way it was made, with Blatty taking the entire crew to Budapest and creating a collective atmosphere allowing some of the actors to improvise and some to stay strictly to the script. Some of it makes very little sense. In tone, its first half is comedic, the atmosphere darkening as things take a more serious turn and the truth is revealed.

At the same time, some of the film’s strengths lie in the obvious fact that, as a director, Blatty didn’t have clue what he was doing. The meandering is hypnotic, it looks astonishingly beautiful, expertly lit by Gerry Fisher, and the performances are wonderful, Stacy Keach managing the difficult job of portraying a man who can’t express himself unless through rage. The final answer to the question, ‘is there a God?’ is beautifully handled and surprisingly moving.

‘The Ninth Configuration’ may have been ignored by audiences but it got some great reviews and even won a Golden Globe for its screenplay, but does this re-issue clarify it as an all but ignored classic, or is its mixed reception warranted? There’s much to admire and it’s certainly unlike almost anything else, the striking imagery and ambitious concept bringing rewards to the patient viewer but, in the end, does it offer meaning? Does it linger in the mind as other attempts at provocation do? Does it matter? For a film as individual as we are, that’s entirely up to you.

THE NINTH CONFIGURATION / CERT: 15 /  DIRECTOR: WILLIAM PETER BLATTY / SCREENPLAY: WILLIAM PETER BLATTY / STARRING: STACY KEACH, SCOTT WILSON, JASON MILLER, ED FLANDERS / RELEASE DATE: 25TH APRIL
 

Newly married young couple Nick and Bobby Sue find the start of their life together interrupted when a biker gang kidnaps Bobby Sue. The Devil has unleashed the demonic riders to sacrifice beautiful virgins to him, so Nick must fight if he wants to save his new wife’s soul.

Another month, another faux-grindhouse exploitation throwback. There’s something inherently appealing in the idea of a film being made to purposefully look bad, since many people out there joyfully lap up the shameless trash produced in decades past. The problem is that so-bad-it’s-good is often something that comes about accidentally and to produce something entertainingly bad is harder than you might think, more often than not ending up as so-bad-it’s-worse. At least in terms of visuals, the sleazy aesthetic of All Hell Breaks Loose is perfectly realised. The picture is altered to look like grainy film stock, intentionally bad sound editing abounds and gore effects are wonderfully low-tech and messy; it’s just a shame that the technical prowess on display isn’t matched by the story. 

It takes almost half an hour for all the pieces of the plot to be set up, and once in place things proceed in a state of drudging stagnation, largely consisting of Nick being killed by the bikers, only to be resurrected by God (here portrayed as an apparent riff on Sam Elliot in The Big Lebowski) to face them again, only to be killed again then brought back to life again and so on and so forth. This is interspersed with random acts of pointless sadism from the bikers to emphasise the environment of tedious misogyny where men are paragons of machismo and women are prizes to be won in some purgatorial contest of cosmic dick measuring. Yes, this is all supposed to feel ridiculously dated – after all, that’s the whole point of films like this – but unless the histrionics are presented in such a way as to make them at least mildly engaging it becomes difficult care about anything that happens.

Given the prominence the biker gang is given, it seems like we are supposed to perceive them as the most interesting aspect of the film, except they are all so generically thuggish that you discern between them by appearance rather than personality. It’s something of a stretch to ask for relatability when the best thing you can say about a group of people is that none of them are paedophiles or rapists, as if this makes casual murder and mutilation or offering up young women to be the sexual playthings of the Prince of Darkness somehow forgivable in comparison.

God doesn’t come off any more sympathetically, being portrayed as a lazy hypocrite who damns people for doing exactly what he told them and who could easily wipe out the demonic evil in the world if only he could be bothered. While the canonical omnipotence of the Almighty makes his appearance a literal deus ex machina that can prematurely put an end to any story in which he appears, there are far less lazy ways of keeping his intervention out of the narrative. Although given the boredom that the film’s events induce, maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE / CERT: 18 / DIRECTOR: JEREMY GARNER / SCREENPLAY: THE VOCABULARIAST / STARRING: NICK FORREST, SARAH KOBEL MARQUETTE, JOSHUA FRAZIER, TODD ROBINSON, JOSEPH SULLIVAN / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW

Often cited as the Golden Age of Italian Cinema, the neorealist period of post-World War II filmmaking focussed on the difficult economic and social conditions of the time. Frequently set amongst the poor or working classes, these films represented the desperation and oppression suffered by many during everyday life. One of the key exponents of Italian neorealist cinema was Luchino Visconti and in 1960 he released perhaps his last true film of this genre; Rocco And His Brothers.

Arriving in Milan, after leaving the “down South” of their birth Rocco (Delon) and his four brothers struggle to establish their place in a society that immediately rejects them. Accompanying their mother Rosaria (Paxinou) the family, who are without money but retain hope, are abandoned by their future in-laws yet strive to prove themselves to a city that threatens to destroy their close bond. Rocco’s elder brother Simone (Salvatori) falls in with a crooked boxing promoter and local prostitute Nadia (Girardot), whose subsequent relationship with the innocent Rocco proceeds to tear the family apart.

An acclaimed opera director Visconti brings more than a touch of the lavish to Rocco And His Brothers as the emotional impact of the central story threatens to tip over into ripe melodrama, and yet impressively doesn’t. For half its running time this is a gritty tale of societal struggle, as the family overcomes one setback after another as they claw their way slowly up a slippery ladder. Latterly, though, this is a film that ignores its previous slow pacing and sprints towards extreme situations that, while surprising, never feel contrived. This successful balance is primarily down to the credibility Visconti has built up throughout, giving great depth to characters you neither truly love nor loathe, but whom you are powerless not to invest in.

It is impossible to identify one performance over another, such is the strength of the assembled cast, but Renato Salvatori broods and smoulders through every scene he is present in. Contrary to the innocence that Alain Delon’s Rocco struggles with when faced with the most extreme pressure, it is a performance full of portent and foreboding; you know something bad is coming for this character, you just never get a true handle on what.

While there truly is little to fault in Visconti’s epic, this isn’t a film that you will likely revisit. Social realism coupled with often-intense emotional and operatic drama is a heady mix that will not be to everyone’s tastes, yet it is a film that really should be seen. As an example of both Visconti’s work and Italian cinema of the period, it is arguably unrivalled. A worthy addition to any film collection.

ROCCO AND HIS BROTHERS (1960) / CERT: 15 / DIRECTOR: LUCHINO VISCONTI / SCREENPLAY: LUCHINO VISCONTI, SUSO CECCHI D’AMICO, PASQUALE FESTA CAMPANILE, MASSIMO FRANCIOSA, ENRICO MEDIOLA / STARRING: ALAIN DELON, ANNIE GIRARDOT, RENATO SALVATORI / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW

With his debut (and possibly final) feature Exposed, Declan Dale has attempted to blend together what appear to be three entirely separate narratives into a concise ninety minutes. That none of these narratives has a plausible or coherent beginning, middle or end is seemingly irrelevant. But, credit where credit’s due.

The loose (in the loosest of loose senses) central plot of Exposed revolves around young woman Isabel (de Armas), who has many secrets, not least of which is that she keeps seeing curiously dressed albinos. Circling this is Keanu Reeves’ moody-but-we-never-know-why Detective Galban who is investigating the murder of his partner, while conducting an affair with said partner’s widow (a terribly clichéd and underused Sorvino). Finally, there is an unnecessary and convoluted gangster yarn involving mistaken identity and sodomy.

Despite there being a tenuous connections involving many of the same characters, none of the plot threads appear well thought out or delivered with any conviction. There is clear ambition here, but that in itself proves to be Exposed’s greatest flaw. Intertwining stories that, at different points in the film, involve immaculate conceptions, phantom children and serial rape never sit well together. Instead of the intriguing tale of guilt, corruption and dirty dealings that Exposed could have been, Dale has instead woven a story that comes across as pseudo-religious psychobabble nonsense that fails to engage on any level.

It’s difficult to be too disappointed with the cast but from the outset you find yourself wondering what the hell Keanu Reeves is doing in this film? After a recent resurgence, including the impressive John Wick and the surprisingly decent Knock, Knock (something that also stars de Armas) it is difficult to imagine what attracted him this project. One can only surmise that the initial script and subsequent production bear little resemblance to the woeful mess of a film that has actually been released, and therefore the bulk of the blame for Exposed must lie at the feet of Dale and his editor Diego Macho.

There is hardly anything in Exposed worthy of interest, and nothing that either warrants or deserves further discussion. It is possible, however unlikely, that somewhere there is a cut of this film that makes some semblance of sense and conveys the director’s personal vision with more clarity. If there isn’t, and this version of Exposed is exactly what Dale had in mind, then you fear for his future as a filmmaker.

Special Features: Behind the scenes 

EXPOSED / CERT: 15 / DIRECTOR & SCREENPLAY: DECLAN DALE / STARRING: ANA DE ARMAS, KEANU REEVES, CHRISTOPHER MCDONALD, MIRA SORVINO / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW

The Forgotten is probably the kind of horror film that Ian McEwan or Iain Banks might have written, its preoccupations being mental illness and the ties that bind us – and its supernatural aspect probably being its weakest element. Alternatively, you might consider it Kidulthood with ghosts, its setting being a mostly deserted sink estate somewhere in London and its cast giving the drama rather more social verisimilitude than cheap B-movies are generally used to.

When Tommy’s aunt goes away, she leaves him in the care of a father who, it transpires, has been living alone in a squat in a housing estate that’s been emptied ahead of being demolished. Mark has been making a “living” strip-thieving the abandoned flats of their copper piping, and while there’s no electricity there’s plenty of spare cash for takeaways. But during the nights Tommy hears strange noises coming from the vacant flat next door, and as he and his new friend Carmen investigate, they begin to uncover a shared history that neither of them can be comfortable with.

First-time director Oliver Hampton has a history in televised police dramas, having co-created 2013 BBC miniseries Life of Crime and script edited The Bill, and it’s in how The Forgotten deals with historical criminal activity that it’s strongest, particularly as it follows Tommy and Carmen’s investigation and subsequently the effect their discoveries bring about. The way Hampton and co-screenwriter James Hall (another alumnus of The Bill) tease out the connections between the main characters is assured and absorbing, if a little predictable by the story’s end. But the paranormal disturbances that both Tommy and eventually Carmen share – while progressing logically out of their mutual associations – tend to undermine the conclusions the story reaches. It’s an easier sell for a first-time director if he can cross his genres in two markets, of course. And the ghost story is supremely well executed and not a little terrifying, even if it’s also rather familiar.

The acting is sometimes a little over-natural, for the most part lending the film a feeling of absolute realism but occasionally hesitating towards a woodenness – albeit one that resonates with the emotional stiltedness of the characters – but the deep-focus pseudo-documentary photography is gorgeous and authentic, emphasising the sparseness not just of the locations but also of the characters’ internal lives. The inside of the flat is a frighteningly blank space, shrouded in shadows lit only by stark lamplight – and would have been just as startling without the need to affect a haunting on the environment.

There’s no question that The Forgotten works exceptionally well. Not entirely unlike a more straight-laced horror equivalent of Attack the Block, it is difficult to tear your eyes away from.

THE FORGOTTEN / CERT: 15 / DIRECTOR: OLIVER FRAMPTON / SCREENPLAY: JAMES HALL, OLIVER FRAMPTON / STARRING: CLEM TIBBER, SHAUN DINGWALL, ELARICA GALLACHER / RELEASE DATE:  MAY 2ND

Avant-garde Soviet documentary may not be the most enticing movie night idea, but anyone interested in film history should know the name Dziga Vertov. The key figure in the ‘cinema-eye’ collective of filmmakers, Vertov rejected ‘staged’ cinema – actors, scripts, all that rubbish – and developed a Marxist style inspired by newsreel footage, using the camera to capture real life then editing the footage into a coherent overview of society. Man With a Movie Camera (1929), his most famous work, was named the best documentary of all time in a 2014 BFI poll, and is collected in this new set along with four of his other films.

Man With A Movie Camera is about the people of Russia; the life of the city (it was filmed in Kiev, Kharkov, Moscow and Odessa) is shown in all its detail. People get up, go to work, and play sports. People get married, others get divorced. A child is born. Intricate editing places the factory machines and switchboard operators perfectly in time with the film’s music, turning the city into a symphony. Vertov’s use of film is very playful, showing us the eponymous cameraman as he sets up the shots we then see, and even making use of optical illusions, such as placing the cameraman inside a beer glass. It all comes together to create an innovative and remarkable piece of cinema that, even in 2016, is an engaging, energetic watch, as well as a fascinating historical document.

The other films are similarly intriguing, if not as consistently watchable. Kino-Eye (1924) has a similar style, portraying the lives of children in a small village. It also experiments with playing film backwards, reversing the entire production process of bread – from loaves being distributed to crops being harvested! It’s comparatively disjointed and slow going, but nonetheless lays the groundwork for what was to come. Kino-Pravda #21 (1925) is a memorial to the recently deceased Lenin, incorporating newsreel footage of his life before showing us his funeral and reactions to his death. Enthusiasm: Symphony of the Donbass (1931) goes down into the mines of the Don coal basin, focusing on the miners as they work hard to fulfil the Five Year Plan. Finally, Three Songs About Lenin (1934) celebrates the achievements of the Soviet Union’s founder; it’s unashamed propaganda to modern eyes, and not at all subtle, flashing the word ‘LENIN’ on screen in big letters more times than you ever wanted to see, but it is expertly edited propaganda.

Eureka Entertainment have done a stellar job with this release, presenting all four films in beautifully restored high-def and packing in a load of worthwhile extras – though the main film alone is essential viewing for any cinephile. You won’t regret adding this to your collection – and if you don’t love Lenin yet, you will by the end of it. 

Extras: Film Scores / Audio Commentary / The Life and Times of Dziga Vertov – Exclusive Video Interview / Visual Essay by David Cairns / 100-Page Limited Edition Book

MAN WITH A MOVIE CAMERA AND OTHER WORKS BY DZIGA VERTOV / CERT: E / DIRECTOR: DZIGA VERTOV / STARRING: LENIN / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW 

Making a bid to take over the city and properties therein, brutal gangsters set their sights on a local martial arts school, determined to have the place for their own – at any cost. Resident genius, at kicking and punching, Master Ip (Donnie Yen) takes umbrage to this, putting all of his talents to good use in tackling the hoodlums head on. This is done mostly by kicking or punching them in the head, and sometimes by using a very long pole.

Wilson Yip’s latest is the third in a series based on the life and adventures of the real-life martial arts master (to Bruce Lee, no less – distractingly featured, all chin and huff). Neophytes shouldn’t worry though, as Ip Man 3 is thoroughly accessible to newbies – so much so, in fact, to occasionally be to its detriment. The predictable, overdone story is but a backdrop to Donnie Yen coolly beating the paste out of hordes of sharply dressed idiot gangsters, with precision and brutality. “I dabble,” Ip Man humbly shrugs, when questioned on his martial arts prowess early in the film. Contrast this with everything that follows, as the man barely breaks a sweat throughout.

Unlike Mike Tyson, a man so uncomfortable in front of a camera that he singlehandedly drags the film to a screeching halt whenever he appears. A stunningly awful actor in any language (you’ll need the subtitles, even when he’s speaking English), Mike Tyson’s Frank is at least sparingly used, barely figuring into the action at all at first (or even at the end, ultimately). Thankfully, so long as he keeps his mouth shut, he cuts an imposing figure, flinging one stooge across the room with but one punch. He’s a ridiculous actor and a bad human being, but there’s no denying that he gives Ip Man 3 a villain to remember. Outside of Donnie Yen and the incredible choreography, he’s Ip Man 3’s main draw. That battle between Ip and Frank is well worth the wait – there’s a moment where Frank punches poor Ip so hard that he looks physically sick, and it’s this attention to detail that makes each and every fight a thing of beauty.

A clichéd story (its tender and quietly heartbreaking romance aside) told well and with some truly breathtaking action, Ip Man 3 should please both aficionados of the franchise and newbies alike. Slick, fast, frantic and always impressive, it makes even the presence of Charisma Black Hole Tyson (don’t tell him we said that) feel worthwhile. And really, he’s not in it all that much.

IP MAN 3 / CERT: 12 / DIRECTOR: WILSON YIP / SCREENPLAY: EDMOND WONG/ STARRING: DONNIE YEN, ZHANG JIN, MIKE TYSON, LYNN HUNG / RELEASE DATE: APRIL 25TH