Review Category: DVD/Blu Ray

There may be nearly five decades old, but the mid-’60s Technicolor Dalek movies starring Peter Cushing are still causing a commotion; the recent brief theatrical rerelease of StudioCanal’s new 4K restorations of both movies – 1965’s Dr Who and the Daleks and 1966‘s Daleks’ Invasion Earth 2150 A.D. – has seen the films back in the British box office top ten rubbing shoulders with 2022 summer blockbusters like Jurassic World Dominion and Thor Love and Thunder. Their renewed success is a testament to the fact that they’re both damned good little movies in their own right and that many fans who have seen these films on TV, DVD or Blu-ray have never seen them on the big screen – so close you can feel their fire – and couldn’t resist the opportunity to take a trip back to their childhood. And there’s nothing wrong with that…  Daleks’ Invasion now arrives in a lavish, chunky 4K boxset destined to sit happily on the shelves alongside its predecessor as the final and ultimate presentation of these very special examples of British cinema in general and Doctor Who in particular.

With Dr Who and the Daleks having been one of 1965’s top twenty movies in the UK, it’s hardly surprising that a sequel was hurried into production to capitalise on the ongoing Dalekmania craze that had sprung up in the wake of the introduction of the Daleks to the fresh-faced Doctor Who TV show at the end of 1963. Offering a truncated version of Terry Nation’s 6-part serial that saw the Daleks return to the series near the beginning of its second season in 1964, Daleks’ Invasion Earth is an altogether faster, more action-packed and more thrilling film than the occasionally plodding Dr Who and the Daleks. Arriving in the ruined London of 2150 A.D. (which never looks anything other than 1966) the fussy Dr Who (Cushing), his granddaughter Susan (Roberta Tovey, returning from the first film), his niece Louise (a fairly thankless role for Jill Curzon), and baffled passing bobby Tom Campbell (Bernard Cribbins) find themselves in the middle of a struggle between a bunch of ragged, determined survivors and the pitiless Daleks who have taken over the planet for their own nefarious (and rather unlikely) purpose. This is a tougher, grittier film with the Daleks at their most ruthless and the human race at its most desperate as it fights to reclaim its planet. It’s not Saving Private Ryan, obviously, it’s a breezy kids’ film from the 1960s, but it’s pleasantly dark and nihilistic in places and at eighty minutes it bounces along filled with action and spectacle the like of which fans of the TV series had never seen before.

The 4K restoration is little short of miraculous but it actually does the film a disservice here and there; wires holding up the impressive Dalek saucer are painfully visible and the Dalek props themselves occasionally look a bit tatty and battle-weary, although perhaps that’s excusable in a film which depicts them at war on a planet they have brought to its knees. The boxset includes familiar bits and pieces – posters, souvenir booklets, art cards, a commemorative coin and a slew of special features ported over from previous releases with a brief new ‘Legacy’ featurette and a commentary previously unavailable in the UK. A cheaper two-disc edition is also available without the paraphernalia of the more expensive collection.

Doctor Who fans are often dismissive of these clearly non-canonical movies, but that’s really their loss. With Dalekmania on the wane in 1966 (fickle kids!), the film underperformed and a planned third Dalek adventure was abandoned. But Daleks Invasion Earth 2150 A.D. is still an utterly joyful piece of nostalgia and this gorgeously-presented boxset finally lavishes upon it the care and attention it has long deserved.

Daleks’ Invasion Earth 2150 A.D. is available now from StudioCanal

Corrective Measures is a strange film. It starts with a news montage explaining that human beings have started mutating and developing superpowers at random. If you’re imagining a straight-up rip-off of X-Men, it would be more accurate to imagine a rip-off of X-Men that the characters are working on in an episode of the sitcom Extras.

Pretty soon, however, the film shifts gears into a straight-up prison drama. This is about a prison within a superhero universe. Think Suicide Squad, but the characters don’t get sent on a mission and we, instead, just see how they live day-to-day. Once the movie settles into a groove and it becomes clear what it’s doing, it’s actually a pretty fantastic premise.

For the most part, the cast – notably Michael Rooker, Tom Cavanagh and, yes, Bruce Willis – do an admirable job of giving their absolute best to elevate the material they’ve got to work with. Sadly, the script is just so lacklustre that it’s largely in vain.

And while you get the sense that the film is doing a great job of getting the most out of its budget, it still ultimately feels like a claustrophobically small film, repeating the same few bland prison sets for most of its runtime. For the most part, this is trying to be something far beyond its reach and it shows.

The other major issue is the lack of imagination. The premise is still, ultimately, just the X-Men universe. And it’s not like we meet any interesting supervillain characters within it. All their powers are par for the course within the genre, be it the guy who can control electricity, the super-strong one or… another super-strong one.

There are unexpected moments of inspiration – spoiler alert: a post-credits scene for the sequel-that-will-never-happen teases a zombie/vampire apocalypse out of almost nowhere – but it’s always too much of an aside to really elevate the movie in any way.

Compared to some of its peers within the VOD landscape, you could do a hell of a lot worse than Corrective Measures, but it’s ultimately still a weak affair that isn’t worth your time. It will sadly only be remembered as one of the slew of bad films Bruce Willis pumped out at the end of his career.

 

Corrective Measures is released on Blu-ray and DVD on July 11th

 

Without doubt Humphrey Bogart is an icon of film noir. It is therefore fitting that Indicator conclude their Columbia Noir series with a boxset almost exclusively dedicated to Bogie. As with the previous four volumes, Columbia Noir #5 is a handsome addition loaded with extras.

Dead Reckoning is the first shot. It was an unusual production for Columbia in that its two main stars were loaned from other studios. Lizabeth Scott from Hal Wallis and Bogart from Warner Bros. Bogart plays Captain Rip Murdock whose army buddy disappears only to turn up dead. Rip discovers that his comrade Johnny joined the army under an alias to escape a murder charge. Given leave to investigate the death Rip begins an affair with Coral (Lizabeth Scott), the wife of the man Johnny supposedly murdered.

Like many noirs, Dead Reckoning is told in flashback. Given the convoluted plot, this does help the audience keep track of what’s what and who’s who. There is also a certain amount of pleasure watching a more sympathetic Bogie romance the husky-voiced Scott. Lizabeth was Paramount’s Lauren Bacall and it’s obvious to see that Columbia was hoping to capture the same chemistry that Bogart and Bacall displayed on screen.

Dead Reckoning’s extras include a newly recorded audio commentary with film scholar and preservationist Alan K Rode, A Pretty Good Shot: an appreciation by writer and film programmer Tony Rayns, Watchtower Over Tomorrow, a short film directed by John Cromwell, documenting the formation of the United Nations following World War II.

Knock On Any Door has the distinction of being Nicholas Ray’s first film.  It’s a courtroom drama, in which Bogart plays attorney Andrew Morton. Petty criminal Nick Romano (John Derek) is Morton’s client. After his pregnant wife commits suicide, Romano kills a cop when committing a robbery.

Knock On Any Door is another flashback-driven tale. Although somewhat dated it still packs a punch with its depiction of how circumstances and hopelessness can breed crime. Bogart gives a stunning performance as the attorney Morton. His final speech is rivetingly poignant and just as relevant today. It’s all the more remarkable that at nearly twelve minutes long, it was shot in practically one take.

The extras include a new audio commentary with writer and film historian Pamela Hutchinson, Nobody Knows How Anybody Feels: an appreciation by critic and film programmer Geoff Andrew, Tuesday in November, a documentary short about the democratic process in America, made as part of the Office of War’s The American Scene series and boasting Nicholas Ray as assistant director.

In Tokyo Joe, Joe Bogart plays the titular Joe Barrett. When war broke out, Barrett abandoned his wife Trina and young child in Tokyo. Barrett returns to pick up the threads of his life in post-war Japan and discovers that Trina made treasonous radio propaganda broadcasts.

This is very much a film of two halves. Bogart is utterly convincing in communicating his sense of loss and regret over the destruction of war, but then he was a master at playing world-weary characters with complete conviction. Unfortunately, this isn’t a film that has weathered at all well. Whilst America had the best intentions of rebuilding a devastated Japan, what Tokyo Joe shows is that America tried to rebuild Japan in its image, and this is what propels a large part of the narrative. Very much a product of its time.

Extras on this disc include an audio commentary with writer and film historian Nora Fiore, Bertrand Tavernier on ‘Tokyo Joe’, an archival appreciation by the celebrated filmmaker and critic, A Superstar Returns, archivist Tom Vincent assesses the career of actor Sessue Hayakawa, the silent-era star who made his return to Hollywood filmmaking with Tokyo Joe, Second unit photography is rare footage shot by second unit director Art Black and cameramen Joseph Biroc and Emil Oster Jr in Tokyo for use in the main feature, The Negro Soldier, a WWII documentary film intended as a recruitment drive for African American enlistees, and Jim Pines on ‘The Negro Soldier’, an audio presentation by the author and lecturer.

Sirocco has Bogart as gun runner Harry Smith in 1925 Damascus. He provides guns to Emir Hassan’s rebels until he’s arrested by the French that is. Bogart is back as the Bogart most are familiar with, morally ambiguous, trench-coated and tough-talking. Sirocco is often compared unfavourably to Casablanca, and although Casablanca is, without doubt, a stone-cold classic, Sirocco shouldn’t be dismissed entirely. Interestingly the film doesn’t favour the French or Syrians. Smith is nothing more than an opportunist and Lee J. Cobb’s, French commander Col. Feroud, sympathetically portrays a man fighting for a cause he no longer believes in, whilst occasionally enjoying some scenery-chewing.

Extras include audio commentary with film historians Alexandra Heller-Nicholas and Josh Nelson, and The South Bank Show: ‘Bogart: Here’s Looking at You, Kid’: 1997 episode of the long-running British arts television series, featuring Humphrey Bogart’s son, Stephen Bogart, looking back at his father’s life and career.

The Family Secret is the one feature that doesn’t contain Bogie, although it was produced by Santana, his production company.

A lawyer (Lee J. Cobb) faces an unthinkable dilemma when his son David (John Derek) accidentally kills his best friend. As there weren’t any witnesses was the killing accidental, or murder.

The opening is pure noir, but then the film descends into bland melodrama. The main problem is John Derek. David is a complicated role. The audience should be in a constant state of two minds. Is David innocent? Is he guilty? Instead, Derek’s David comes across as petulant and spoiled. Very much a wasted opportunity.

Extras include audio commentary with professor and film scholar Jason A Ney, The Negro Sailor: WWII documentary short film, directed by Henry Levin and conceived as a recruitment tool for the United States Navy, and The Big Moment: short film produced by the United Jewish Appeal, starring John Derek.

Finally, there is Bogart’s final film, the excellent The Harder They Fall.  Former sports columnist Eddie Willis (Bogart) is hired by a greedy fight promoter to promote his latest talent, an unknown and exploitable rising star from Argentina.

Boxing does not have to be an interest to enjoy this tough, uncompromising, character-driven drama. Director Mark Robson gives us a ring-side seat to the darker side of boxing. He doesn’t pull his punches when showing the audience, the violence of the ring, the deprivations of the downtrodden or treating individuals as commodities to be pummelled for others’ profits. Bogart gives a career-best performance as a writer that sells out, and Rod Steiger provides a chilling performance as the vicious, unscrupulous fight promoter whose motivation is to simply make a fast buck.

Bogart died having battled cancer not long after the completion of this film, but what a film to bow out with. To go out with a bang, not a whimper.

Extras include audio commentary with critics and writers Glenn Kenny and Farran Smith Nehme, The Final Bout: critic and writer Christina Newland examines the making of the film, and its relationship to the original novel, Bertrand Tavernier on ‘The Harder They Fall’: archival appreciation by the celebrated filmmaker and critic and That Justice Be Done: George Stevens’ short on the Nuremberg trials, made by the Office of War Information.

Columbia Noir #5 is out now

After two box office failures director Brian De Palma needed a hit. In 1987 a hit he had with The Untouchables. 1930 saw America in the grip of Prohibition. Alcohol was seen as the cause to the rising violence and moral corruption of the American public and so the Volstead Act was passed banning the sale of alcohol. Criminal’s built empires on bootlegging and selling illegal booze, the most famous being Al Capone.

 

The Untouchables tells a heavily fictionalised account of how a small force of law enforcement agents brought down Capone. Elliot Ness (Kevin Costner) is tasked with bringing America’s charismatic and notorious Capone (Robert De Niro) to justice. Despite his best efforts, Capone is always one step ahead of Ness. That is until Ness happens upon Malone (Sean Connery), a world-weary Irish beat cop. Together they enlist rookie cop George Stone (Andy Garcia) and government accountant Oscar Wallace (Charles Martin Smith). Malone teaches Ness that the only way to get Capone is to abandon the rule book, “You wanna get Capone? Here’s how you get him. He pulls a knife, you pull a gun. He sends one of yours to the hospital, you send one of his to the morgue. That’s the Chicago way. That’s how you get Capone.”

 

David Mamet’s screenplay is brimming with great dialogue and action sequences, but not to the detriment of the simply heart breaking scenes that occur. Mamet was not a fan of the original TV series, nor was De Palma, so The Untouchables is very much its own beast. Eliot Ness was supposedly a rather quiet and unassuming person. Costner takes the name of Ness, but creates a character far removed from the real man. Although he is naïve to begin with, he soon becomes a righteous force to be reckoned with.

 

Originally, Bob Hoskins was to portray Capone, and as good an actor as he was, it’s difficult to imagine anyone but De Niro as the crime lord. Capone saw himself as a Robin Hood type. The people wanted booze and he provided it for them. That’s exactly how De Niro plays him. He’s just “responding to the will of the people.” That’s when he’s not taking a baseball bat to someone’s head.  Sean Connery’s Malone is the heart of the film, a cynical heart, but a heart, nonetheless. He guides Ness to the path he needs to follow in order for him to bring Capone down.

 

The Untouchables in 4K is a feast for the eyes. The smallest of detail in the clothing is visible, the puddles on the rain-soaked streets look as though they could flow into your room, you can almost smell the gun oil and contraband whisky.

 

The extras are interesting, if not ground-breaking. They have clearly been ported over from the DVD and Blu-ray releases.  In The Script, The Cast De Palma states that he approached the making of The Untouchables as a John Ford western rather than a crime picture, and the cast wax lyrical about the making of the film. Production Stories explains the pain-staking efforts in recreating 1930 Chicago, the Canadian border bridge sequence is dissected, and De Palma explains how Battleship Potemkin was the inspiration for the railway station steps sequence. Re-Inventing The Genre features De Palma discussing Ennio Morricone’s, with more behind the scenes stories. The Classic tells of Giorgio Armani’s involvement in designing the costumes and the overall look of the film.  Finally, there’s the original featurette: The Men, which is a much shorter version of all the other features, but with the classic trailer voice over from the 80’s.

 

The Untouchables is two hours of solid entertainment. It’s perhaps De Palma’s least De Palma type film although it does have with the usual De Palma touches. The creeper scene and the slow motion shoot out, but so much blood.

At the time when American crime cinema was dominated by the likes of Dirty Harry, this low-key film melds the police procedural story with genre tropes. All while being based on a real case.

Boozy Police Chief Lee Tucker (Uncle Ben himself, Cliff Robertson) is heading an investigation into the bizarre murder of a young woman, left crumpled in the foot well of her car in a supermarket parking lot. Self-proclaimed psychic Franklin Wills (the ever-excellent Joel Grey) comes on the scene and says he can help find the killer, but is he all that he says he is?

Man on a Swing is directed by Frank Perry, who had previously helmed the enigmatic cult favourite The Swimmer (1968), the brilliant, but seemingly ‘lost’ 1969 coming-of-age film Last Summer (there is only a sole 16mm print known to exist in the world), and the Joan Crawford biopic Mommie Dearest (1981). Despite being released by Paramount Pictures, the movie opens with the feel of a made-for-TV picture, but things pick up following the discovery of the victim’s body. Joel Grey’s clairvoyant Wills takes over the film, putting Cliff Robertson’s impressive depiction of a miserable, alcoholic cop in the shadows. Their relationship becomes the focus as Wills subtly mesmerises the chief into solving the case, the swing sequence of the title replacing the usual clock pendulum.

No matter how fascinating the performances are, Man on a Swing is a frustrating watch, particularly if you’ve come into it expecting a cop drama. Composer Lalo Schifrin (who also provided the amazing score for Dirty Harry) is much more subdued here, adding a creepy tone rather than a thrilling one.

Imprint’s Blu-ray release provides some solid extras to get your teeth into, though, including two informative commentaries and a brace of featurettes, the best being an interview with Joel Grey. Man on a Swing is a flawed but interesting forgotten gem from a time when American cinema was changing, and while not wholly successful, is very entertaining.

Man on a Swing is available from the Australian label Imprint.