Review Category: DVD/Blu Ray

This epic tale, split over two films but most rewarding viewed as one, was among the most successful foreign-language films of the twentieth century. It’s rightfully so, too. With spectacular acting and a superb script adapted from Marcel Pagnol’s novel.

Following the death of Florette, who ran neighbouring land, Cesar (Yves Montard) and his nephew Ugolin (Daniel Auteuil) block up the water source to make sure that Florette’s son (Gérard Depardieu) would fail in his attempt to grow on the land. When this succeeds, they purchase the land cheap and re-open the well. Cesar’s daughter, Manon (Emmanuelle Béart) plans her revenge in the second film.

Both films are deeply moving, occasionally dramatic, and ultimately completely heart-breaking. Director Claude Berri and cinematographer Bruno Nuytten fill the screen with the sumptuous scenery and tell the tale of jealously, bitterness, and tragedy faultlessly. We’re drawn into the plight of Jean, and in the second film, relish the retribution of Manon. It’s a powerful story that is timeless in its appearance and boasts an iconic score from Jean-Claude Petit.

For a while, Depardieu was one of the world’s greatest actors. His performance as the tragic hunchback Jean is a testament to this. It’s not all about the first film’s titular character, though, as Montard and Auteuil are simply impeccable as the arguably French cinema’s most reprehensible antagonists.

As for Umbrella’s Blu-ray release, the films are presented on one disc with only the trailers as supplementary features. However, when the story is as powerful as this and the films as exemplarity, then there’s nothing else really needed.

Jean de Florette/Manon des Sources is available on Blu-ray from Umbrella Entertainment. 

Unfairly lumped in with the Exorcist rip-offs that followed that film’s success, Robert Wise’s Audrey Rose doesn’t deal with possession, but rather reincarnation. In this case, Elliot Hoover (Anthony Hopkins) is convinced the soul of his daughter Audrey Rose – who perished in a fire following a car accident – has been transferred to Ivy (Susan Swift), the only child of Janice and Bill Templeton (Marsha Mason and John Beck).

Naturally, the upwardly mobile couple don’t like this idea and treat Hoover as a kook, but every year coming up to her birthday, Ivy has nightmares. This year, they have gotten worse, with the child even burning her hands on the cold windows of her bedroom. Bill is still having none of it, but Janice gradually begins to believe, particularly when Hoover is the only one to calm Ivy down when she has one of these ‘spells’.

Part-supernatural thriller, part-spiritualist, and part-courtroom drama, Audrey Rose is an odd beast. Directed by a cinematic legend, it was written by Frank De Felitta, from his own novel. He would later go on to write the much more successful The Entity (1982) and direct the superb made-for-TV movies The Two Worlds of Jennie Logan (1979) and Dark Night of the Scarecrow (1981). So there’s a good pedigree here, not to mention Hopkins, whose subtle, low-key style is perfect as the bereaved parent who’s found solace in Eastern religion. Even child actor Susan Swift is impressive as the tortured Ivy/Audrey Rose. If there’s a flaw to be seen, it’s the script leaning to preachiness when it comes to the religious aspect, as if De Felitta had an agenda to address. The emotional manipulation of the audience is used to a fabulous degree at the climax, however.

Imprint’s Blu-ray release is, as we’ve come to expect, packed with supplementary material that helps us understand the film more, including a new interview with Marsha Mason, who recalls her experience making the film. While the film might not be an essential purchase, this release has enough to bolster interest.

Long Weekend was a fairly anonymous Australian entry in the
horror film cycle of the late 1970s, something of a failure on its domestic
release but, similarly to Don’t Look Now
and The Wicker Man and thanks to an
unusual premise, one that has since become something of a cult celebre.
Approximately midway between Peter Weir’s 1974 debut The Cars That Ate Paris and subsequent Picnic at Hanging Rock in tone and theme, Colin Eggleston’s best
remembered feature asks what might happen if nature looked at its treatment at
the hands of man and decided to fight back. It’s the kind of film that once
caught on a television outing would haunt the memories of anyone who saw it.

Peter and Marcia are a
fairly typically self-obsessed couple whose marriage is falling apart, and who
take a weekend’s break at a deserted stretch of the northern coast in an
attempt to repair it. Ignorant, arrogant and impatient, both Peter and Marcia
begin the trip with a complete disregard for the countryside around them, the
journey to the beach including the accidental killing of a kangaroo in a manner
that will prove a forewarning of later events. Once they arrive – rather later
than intended thanks to nature already beginning to reject their presence –
they behave with total insensitivity towards their surroundings, Peter eager to
use his new gun, the reluctant camper Marcia killing just as freely with
insecticides.

Long
Weekend is far from perfect, its message delivered with a blunt hammer to the
head, and much of the foreshadowing about what is to come being overwhelmingly
obvious. But Eggleston’s film – the first from writer Everett de Roche, who
would subsequently deliver other cult favourites Harlequin, Roadgames and Razorback – is surprisingly effective in
its conveyance of a sense of unease, with several clichéd horror ideas played
lightly or unconventionally enough to feel fresh and disturbing in their
depiction.

Things don’t end well, of
course, and if the film has a problem it’s that with no other characters to
speak of, the viewer is forced into either attempting to identify with a couple
of pretty hideous people, or else taking nature’s side (obviously the
intention), a path which can leave a feeling of emotional distance from the
drama. There’s a sense, ironically, that it goes against nature to wish ill
upon the only human characters, and yet that’s what de Roche’s script is asking
us to do, mostly very successfully.

With a raft of good extras
and as decent a widescreen transfer as might be expected, this Blu-ray edition
is as definitive a release as Long
Weekend has ever had, and should make those who grew up troubled by its topics
very happy.

Even a rising politician like Nick Rast (David Hemmings) can’t have everything. While his career is taking off – mostly thanks to the mysterious disappearance of his nearest rival – his marriage has broken down and his young son is dying of leukaemia. But then the enigmatic Gregory Wolfe (Robert Powell) materialises seemingly out of nowhere, sits at the boy’s bedside, and apparently cures him. Despite Rast’s scepticism, the child immediately improves. Soon afterwards, Wolfe has entered Rast’s household and is beginning to exert his powers on the politician’s beautiful wife. But is he really just a mysterious healer or does Wolfe have a more sinister agenda?

Produced during the Ozploitation explosion of the late ‘70s/early ‘80s, Harlequin (also known by the much better title Dark Forces) is a gem of a film, and very different from all the other Australian output. It is also, arguably, screenwriter Everett De Roche’s finest work and, considering De Roche was also responsible for Australian genre classics like Patrick, Long Weekend, Road Games, and Razorback that’s high praise indeed. Taking inspiration from the story of the famous Russian mystic Rasputin and weaving in elements of outrageous glam-rock fantasy that must surely have inspired Jim Henson when he created Labyrinth’s Goblin King (in fact, we wouldn’t be surprised if David Bowie was on De Roche’s mind when he wrote the screenplay), Harlequin is a fascinating if flawed psycho-thriller that deserves much more attention than it received. True, without Powell’s charismatic lead performance the whole thing might not play quite so well, the few special effects are ridiculously dated and the ending doesn’t make a whole lot of sense (especially given Wolfe’s alleged abilities) but Harlequin is a film that will still keep you thinking long after the credits have rolled. Like Gregory Wolfe himself, it exerts a strange mesmerising power.

Umbrella’s new Blu-ray is as strong a presentation as we could expect for a movie that’s mostly been forgotten, and it is head and shoulders above previous UK home video incarnations. The image is slightly washed out (although this is a restored HD master it’s still hamstrung by its source limitations) but the audio is strong and there is a healthy bunch of diverting extras to enjoy – but make sure you’ve watched the film first. By far the best special feature is the audio commentary by director Simon Wincer and producer Antony Ginnane, ported over from the US release. Harlequin was the film that launched Wincer’s career, and it’s interesting to hear him discuss it through the prism of more than thirty years.

Although not quite as magic as it could have been, Harlequin still weaves a serious spell.

 

Steve McQueen’s final film is an action-packed thriller that has a moving, emotional core beyond the chases and drama.

Ralph ‘Papa’ Thorson is a bounty hunter who travels the country picking up the bail absconders and fugitives. His girlfriend, Dottie (Kathryn Harrold), is heavily pregnant but rather than help her with her Lamaze class, he heads out for another bail jumper. Meanwhile, one of the people he helped go behind bars is out and has threatened his life, and Dottie could be put in the firing line.

Based on the true-life story of the real Papa Thorson, with the usual Hollywood leeway, of course, to glitz things up a bit. There’s lots to like here, McQueen’s performance being one of them. Bucking his usual style of being a hot-shot driver (which he was in real life, of course), Thorson is shown dinging every car he gets behind the wheel of (and many of the others on the road too) and even though he’s played as a misogynist, McQueen’s effortless cool makes him an engaging character. Also impressive is the young LaVar Burton, who had come from playing the iconic role of Kunta Kinte in Roots and would later be Geordi La Forge in the Star Trek universe. He’s not given too much to do other than provide a little comic relief, but his presence is felt.

Directed by Buzz Kulik, the film has an episodic feel, in a similar vein to how the autobiography would likely be. It’s something screenwriters Ted Leighton and Peter Hyams should have sorted out, and as such, it never really shifts gears smoothly. There’s plenty to enjoy, however, and the famous L-train sequence is perfectly pitched.

Imprint’s Blu-ray release is rather short on special features compared to what we’ve come to expect from the Australian label, but what we have is decent enough. There’s an informative commentary from film historian Jason Ney and a vintage documentary about McQueen, Man on the Edge. This is a fantastic watch, even though it’s a fair few years old. It’s the show that Shaun Ryder watched before adding his lines to the Happy Mondays cover of Step On. During one anecdote, director Norman Jewison recalls the actor telling him “You’re twisting my melon, man” before noting that “he talked so hip”. For that nugget alone, this is a must-buy!

 

The Hunter is available on Blu-ray from Imprint,

The title of this set is slightly misleading and probably oversells the contents a little but this new three-disc release from Eureka, scrubbing up and repackaging three forgotten/lost genre titles from the 1940s and 1950s, is a very welcome addition to any classic sci-fi/horror fan’s physical media collection. Two of the three films here are Frankenstein/Dr Jekyll knock-offs depicting the perils of puny humans tampering with the forces of nature and evolution and the third – and best – delivers a clever and fascinating spin on the traditional ‘alien invasion’ story.

1941’s Man-Made Monster is horror legend Lon Chaney Jnr’s first full entry into the fantasy genre and it’s a hokily enjoyable tale of over-ambitious scientist Dr Paul Rigass (Lionel Atwill) pumping Chaney’s simple-minded Dan McCormack with so much electricity that he becomes little more than a zombie – Rigass dreams of creating an army of mindless zombiemen powered by electricity. Running for just 60 minutes, Man-Made Monster bounces along affably enough – the ‘glowing’ effect that depicts Dan’s condition is quite nicely realised – but the story runs out of steam when Dan gets tangled up in barbed wire and short circuits himself. 1958’s Monster on the Campus has some interesting, if slightly barmy, ideas; a palaeontology professor is infected by the blood of a dead coelacanth which turns him into a shirt-tearing werewolf monster. The film is one of the last fantasy films directed by Jack Arnold (Creature From the Lost Lagoon, Tarantula, The Incredible Shrinking Man) and it’s clear that its heart is not really in it as this is a laboured, stagey, talky affair scuppered by a ‘monster’ that’s clearly a man in a ghastly ill-fitting gorilla mask. There are a couple of startling images though; one of the monster’s female victims is hung from her hair on a tree and a pursuing cop gets an axe to the head. Fun but forgettable. Best of the bunch by far is 1957’s eerie Monolith Monsters in which a very unusual threat – black rock brought to Earth on a meteorite that, when exposed to water, grows into great towering obelisks, which fall and shatter and reproduce themselves and petrify any humans unfortunate to cross their path. More intelligent and considered than many sci-fi cheapies from the era, The Monolith Monsters sees Mankind facing off not against irradiated insects or animals but something remorseless and faceless that demands more of humanity than the simple expedience of army firepower and dynamite. Terrific fun.

All three films look crisp and sharp on Blu-ray and they’re supported by informative, if competitive, commentaries by historians Kim Newman and Stephen Jones and  Kevin Lyons and Jonathan Rigby (Monolith Monsters) the usual trailers and stills galleries and souvenir booklet. Monolith Monsters apart, they may not be classic ‘tales of sci-fi terror’ but they’re all great fun and hugely entertaining and in an era of exhausting limb-numbing overlong blockbusters, a reminder of a time when Hollywood could knock out a decent adventure story in little more than an hour.

 

Three Monster Tales of Sci-Fi Terror Is out now on Blu-ray from Eureka Entertainment!

 

This latest dispatch from the Reeltime Pictures’ archive takes us back to the 1970s courtesy of a selection of interviews with many of the prime movers and shakers responsible for bringing the iconic Jon Pertwee era of Doctor Who to the screen. Across two DVDs we’re able to spend some time in the company of writers, directors,  and actors – the majority of them tragically no longer with us – who guide us through their career highlights and, of course, their experiences working on the BBC’s enduring family sci-fi staple.

As ever the meat of this release can be found on the first disc and here we have a trio of interviews with writers who provided some of the most memorable scripts for the Pertwee era, with the added bonus that two of the featured writers were rarely interviewed during the early days of Doctor Who fan appreciation and who rarely appeared on Convention panels. With Bob Baker having passed away towards the end of the last year, there’s inevitably a certain poignancy in seeing him, alongside fellow ‘Bristol Boy’ writer Dave Martin, in fine form as the pair amiably discuss their careers and their contributions to Doctor Who which include, of course, well-remembered ’70s serials such as Claws of Axos, The Three Doctors, and The Hand of Fear.  Equally interesting are chats with Robert Sloman, an underappreciated scriptwriters responsible for Doctor Who’s “one with the maggots” aka 1973’s The Green Death and who co-wrote the series favourite The Daemons (1971) alongside then-producer Barry Letts under the pseudonym Guy Leopold and Louis Marks whose Doctor Who writing carer stretched from 1964 to 1976, his Pertwee-era credit being 1972’s Day of the Daleks, which brought back the Time Lord’s most formidable enemies after a five-year absence.

Disc Two includes an interview with director Tim Combe (Doctor Who and the Silurians and The Mind of Evil) and a cherishable chat with long-time incidental music composer Dudley Simpson (who passed away in 2017 at the ripe old age of 95), in retirement at his home in Melbourne. Simpson’s chat rambles amiably – his career was long and even more illustrious than fans may realise – and the thirty-odd minutes that pass before he even reaches his years on Doctor Who is yet another reminder of a long-gone and much less manic age of film and TV production. The final ‘Flight Through infinity’ feature delivers off-stage chats from a 2008 convention with supporting actors such as Shirley Cooklin, David Spenser, Prentis Hancock and man-mountain Ice Warrior actor Sonny Caldinez, who sadly passed away as this very review was being prepared.

We’ve said it before but it always bears repeating. Reeltime interviews might not have the slickness and visual trickery that more contemporary efforts might be able to offer but that’s really not the point; these are straightforward, no-nonsense, face-to-face chats that allow the interviewee the time to wander through their careers – their Doctor Who work is sometimes just a very small part of their CVs – and, as we’ve observed before, they offer us a window back into the past to allow us to hear directly from the talented creatives whose work shaped the myth of Doctor Who and who are no longer around to share their experiences today.

As we currently sit awaiting the next time we hear “Ki ki ki, Ma ma ma” on the big screen amidst these ongoing legal battles (a 13th Friday the 13th is surely less if but when), in the meantime, we can rejoice. As Daniel Farrands’ labour of love that is his 2013 documentary, Crystal Lake Memories: The Complete History of Friday the 13th, based on Peter M. Bracke’s immaculate 2006 book of the same name, has finally been released on Blu-ray.

This nearly 7-hour documentary, narrated by Corey Feldman, charts the franchise’s every step, from Sean S. Cunningham’s 1980 original to Marcus Nispel’s fun 2009 reboot. Even finding space for the Jason Voorhees-less Friday the 13th: The Series. Among this brilliant document are an impressive gathering of talking heads (as many players – on and off-screen – as possible are here), compelling set stories and fun details that equate to a treasure trove for fans.

The episodic structure breaks up nicely what could have been an exhaustive watch and each instalment is treated respectfully on its own merits, history and analysis. Even the more derided entries like the underrated Part VII: The New Blood and Jason X, get as fair a treatment as both the divisive films (Jason Goes To Hell: The Final Friday and Part V: A New Beginning) and the more praised entries like Part IV: The Final Chapter and Part VI: Jason Lives…which we all know is the best Friday and a stone-cold classic!

This documentary is a real work of utter affection, which may make you re-evaluate, re-appreciate or re-affirm your thoughts for each and every film in one of horror’s most beloved, enduring – and in this writer’s humble opinion – best franchises. 

The extras may only consist of a commentary but this whole well-delivered package from 101 Films is one huge extra really, and a must for any fan’s collection, as they await that long-overdue return to Crystal Lake.

Courtesy of Umbrella Entertainment comes not one, not two, but three classic Universal horror movies on one shiny disc. Retro Horror Triple Feature Vol.1 serves up The Bride of Frankenstein, Son of Frankenstein, and House of Frankenstein for old and new audiences to savour.

The Bride of Frankenstein is rightfully considered to be a stone-cold classic as evidenced in it’s high ranking in the STARBURST 100 Horror Films of All Time. Frankenstein director James Whale returned to direct Bride of Frankenstein after Universal guaranteed that he would have total creative control. The result is a gloriously campy, yet wonderfully crafted tale of horror that effortlessly surpasses its predecessor. Colin Clive returned as Henry Frankenstein as did Boris Karloff for The Monster. Joining them were Elsa Lanchester as The Bride, and Ernest Thesiger as the deliciously evil, scenery devouring Doctor Septimus Pretorius.

Impressed with Frankenstein’s creation Pretorius persuades Frankenstein to collaborate with him in creating a mate for it. When Frankenstein begins doubting the endeavour Pretorius has the Monster kidnaps his wife.

James Whale proved that horror was more than just jumps and screams. In the right hands, it could be witty and intelligent.

Next is Son of Frankenstein. The always watchable Basil Rathbone stars as Baron Wolf von Frankenstein who, with his wife and son, takes up residence in Castle Frankenstein. The locals are none to happy about this. Frankenstein discovers the vengeance crazed shepherd Ygor living amongst the ruins of his father’s laboratory (played to show-stealing perfection by Bela Lugosi), whose neck has been broken in an unsuccessful hanging, . He finds another surprise when he stumbles upon The Monster.

Rowland V. Lee took over the directorial duties for this third Frankenstein outing. It’s rumoured that Lee was appalled at Lugosi’s treatment by Universal so he re-wrote the script creating the character of Ygor specifically for Lugosi.

Son of Frankenstein has the look of a German Expressionist film. The castle interiors are practically devoid of furniture and the walls and ceilings go off at crazy angles. This only helps to highlight the Frankenstein family’s sense of isolation from the Frankenstein fearing villagers. Boris Karloff returned for the final time as The Monster. In Bride, The Monster could talk. Here he is reduced to grunts and growls, which does seem to be a step backwards for the character. Ultimately Son of Frankenstein is a worthy successor to Bride of Frankenstein. Mel Brooks loved the film so much that his Young Frankenstein is a loving pastiche.

Finally, we enter the House of Frankenstein. After escaping from an asylum, the diabolical Dr Niemann and his loyal hunchback assistant, Daniel, revive the sideshow attraction that has become the evil Count Dracula. Things go from bad to worse when Niemann discovers the frozen bodies of the Wolf Man and Frankenstein’s monster.

Boris Karloff this time shuns Jack Pierce’s Monster makeup and instead plays the vengeful Dr Niemann. Lon Chaney Jr. and Glen Strange both reprise their roles as the Wolfman and Frankenstein’s Monster respectively from the previous film Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman. John Carradine had the honours of playing the vampiric count. Although after the stunningly stupid way he is quickly disposed off one can’t help but think that Bela Lugosi had a lucky escape.

House of Frankenstein is, alas, one of Universal’s weaker offerings. The Monster has little to do until the final moments of the film in which it then stumbles about like a somnambulist grunting, and Larry Talbot (aka the Wolfman) mopes about lamenting how he wished he was still frozen in ice. However, Boris Karloff is excellent as the villain of the piece, and it’s a testament to his skills as an actor that he ultimately holds the film together.

The extras are spartan, to say the least. There are subtitles and trailers for each film. At least they’re called trailers if that’s what short clips from the film are called these days. Overall the transfers are stunning. Never have these films looked better, which makes this an essential purchase for The Bride of Frankenstein and Son of Frankenstein alone. The House of Frankenstein… we’ll just wait outside thanks.