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  • ALL THAT MONEY CAN BUY Remains a Dazzling, Surreal Concoction

    ALL THAT MONEY CAN BUY Remains a Dazzling, Surreal Concoction

    “It is the eternal right of every man to raise his fist against fate!”

    I remember hearing the title The Devil and Daniel Webster, not about this 1941 gem, but in regards to the remake that Alec Baldwin was starring in as well as directing. The film, shot in 2001, was to co-star Dan Aykroyd, Kim Cattrall, Amy Poehler, and, as the titular duo, Jennifer Love Hewitt and Anthony Hopkins. For a while, in the pre-youtube days, an early cut of the trailer started circulating, which signaled the promise of a madcap experience with a game cast. But funding fell through, killing the post-production time needed when an indie studio snapped up the rights, causing Baldwin to eventually lose control of his film. 

    Eventually, re-cut and retitled as Shortcut to Happiness, the movie finally came out without ceremony to a handful of reviews that mourned what could have been a fresh retelling worthy of author Stephen Vincent Benet’s classic story. It was a sad end that ensured this wonderfully dark and compelling morality tale would remain virtually forgotten, that is until Criterion decided to give director William Dieterle’s original version a new, vibrant resurrection.

    In All That Money Can Buy, a struggling farmer named Jabez Stone (James Craig) finds his life and his livelihood turning to shambles as he’s unable to produce successful crops or sell what he’s able to harvest. When he’s offered a deal by a man named Mr. Scratch (Walter Huston), his luck instantly turns. Unfortunately, Scratch is actually the devil, who has a habit of making deals promising wealth and prosperity in exchange for human souls. Not knowing what to do when payment becomes due, Jabez turns to Daniel Webster (Edward Arnold), a prominent social figure who has a history with Scratch, for help.

    All That Money Can Buy falls into the category of fable due to its surrealistic elements and the way they blend into the film’s depiction of the real world. But the film could also rightly claim the label of parable for the way it presents its tale of morality and uses it to not only tell what is ostensibly a black comedy, but also the story of America at one of the most precarious times in its history. It is this setting that allows Jabez’s choice to be seen as one of desperation rather than greed, making his subsequent actions (at least in the beginning), somewhat understandable. 

    What also helps our main character come across as someone not to be loathed by the audience is the fact that Jabez is a person who is very much deserving of good fortune. Furthermore, he’s someone who recognizes his sudden windfall and isn’t ruthless or selfish with it, at least not at first. Still, he can’t help but be pulled into the spell that comes with great wealth, despite his own promise to himself that he never would. But eventually, Jabez loses perspective, gives in to greed and selfishness, and becomes the kind of person he never thought he was. In actuality, however, it isn’t so much that he’s the kind of person driven by money and power. He’s just merely mortal.

    Recognizing this is his family with wife Mary (Anne Shirley) never losing faith in him and mother Ma (Jane Darwell) refusing to fully be taken by his good fortune, no matter how prosperous he becomes. It’s the two of them who give All That Money Can Buy its strength and soul. That very combination is taken to the most extreme when Daniel shows up to take on Scratch on Stone’s behalf. The wisdom and reverence surrounding Daniel shows strength, and conviction, both of which make him the ultimate worthy opponent to Scratch for what becomes a compelling battle over a man’s soul. Even when the movie leans more into the religious side rather than the faith side in its third act before venturing into slight slapstick, this ultimate fight for humanity can’t help but work. 

    As might’ve been guessed by now, this is a film with two titles, both of which are emblematic of the story and its themes in their own ways. Due to some obvious concerns from various theater owners in certain parts of the country, the title of The Devil and Daniel Webster was not a necessarily appealing one. There is, however, a playfulness to the movie’s original title and a certain level of intrigue that suggests a mischief-filled romp that could also serve as a cautionary tale of what happens when a person takes on the most fateful of dances. This is aided by Huston’s tour-de-force performance, Bernard Hermann’s Oscar-winning score, and the movie’s impressive special effects. 

    While some may have preferred the original title, it’s hard to dismiss the philosophical nature of a film called All That Money Can Buy. In a way, it’s the title that best sums up the film. Through an emotionally surreal journey, this is a film that serves as an exploration of both the blessing and the curse that comes with getting everything you’ve ever wanted. No matter the title, the film remains a great illustration of a very universal question: Is it worth it to sell your soul for something you really want, or at least, think you want?

    All That Money Can Buy is now available on Blu-Ray and DVD as part of the Criterion Collection. 

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  • Checking Back Into THE SHINING

    Checking Back Into THE SHINING

    “We’ve all been waiting for you.”

    My true discovery of Stephen King began in 1997 the moment I laid my eyes on the cover of his then-recent novel, Desperation. All of the classics were quickly covered soon after from Misery to Christine to his monumental tale of madness, The Shining. There was nothing but pure delight to be had at watching this miniseries when it came out shortly after my King education had begun. Seeing one of the author’s most personal stories come to glorious life before me throughout three nights on network television was the thrill I hoped it would be. By this point, I had already seen Stanley Kubrick’s 1980 version (already a classic), but there was something more human and intriguing about this 1997 interpretation by director Mick Garris. This isn’t meant to be a piece about which version is better, except to say this take on The Shining does manage to bring out the novel’s soul in a way the 1980 film never did. Even though it had to contend with the confines of network TV, The Shining still managed to bring forth all the aspects that made King’s novel work. Thankfully, it still does.

    The miniseries would never come close to eclipsing the cinematic tour-de-force that was Kubrick’s version. Despite King’s famous dislike of the film and any negative reviews that came its way, for some, the 1980 adaptation is one of the best films ever made. Knowing it couldn’t compete with what came before allowed this version to be its own creation. The third collaboration between King and Garris turns out to be the right combination for this story as the author/screenwriter and director both feel as if they’re firmly on the same page here. The Shining is also another prime example that shows how great the mini/limited series was for King and his sensibilities as an author turned screenwriter. This can be seen not only in the dialogue but in the almost magical way King’s descriptions are brought to life here. A great number of above-average angles and zooms all prove mesmerizing, while the great use of practical effects works wonders at giving the right kind of ominous feel that’s needed to make The Shining effectively play out. These are followed by the hotel’s subtle, but stunning transformation over the change of seasons, all of which gives off a sense of the serene and the surreal. If not all of the miniseries’ special effects work given the limited TV budget, that’s okay. There’s such a strong feeling of heightened foreboding throughout, beginning with the horrific voices accompanying the opening credits that ensure the scares are coming from places the non-King audience won’t expect. 

    Much like Garris, each of the three leads found themselves with the tall order of recreating roles made iconic by other actors. Fortunately, no one in the cast seemed daunted by this, nor did anyone seem influenced by the likes of those who came before them. In true actor fashion, each person makes their character their own. As Danny, Courtland Mead does a very watchable job of being a child who’s trying to battle his own fears while also trying to understand the change that’s happening to him. Rebecca DeMornay’s Wendy not only succeeds in being closer to King’s original vision for the character but also allows the actress to find a role worthy of her underrated talents at a time when the features she found herself in had begun to let her down. Coming off his Wings success, Steven Weber couldn’t have asked for a better role. His turn as Jack gives off an appropriate feeling of whiplash where his emotional intensity is concerned, while his physical transformation is as equally astonishing. The brilliance contained in the way Weber approaches one of horror literature’s most indelible characters results in the actor’s best performance. With each performance influencing the other, the trio of actors succeed in their roles partly because of their acting, but also for playing their characters as King wrote them, rather than what they all became in popular culture.

    The strongest aspect of The Shining is how it looks and feels like its own version. Despite the familiarity with the material, the miniseries comes across like a story we are seeing for the first time. Garris and King both do a great job of laying out exposition and establishing characters, showing us both the real-world fears as well as the supernatural ones that haunt them, blending them seamlessly. Danny’s sporadic visions, especially those he experiences in the presidential suite, are exhilaratingly chilling, managing to capture the tone set by the novel. There are plenty of moments given to Jack and Wendy as a married couple, an element that was sadly lacking in Kubrick’s version. Sure, it can be argued that the inclusion of these was done to fill enough airtime for three nights, but these scenes count and go a long way to making their marriage feel like a marriage. The same goes for the relationship between Jack and Danny. Their complex father/son bond is at the heart of the story here and can rightfully be called the soul of The Shining with its mix of familial frailty and love. Both the horror sequences and the complexities of the relationships might have pushed the boundaries set by late 90s ABC standards, but never once is the integrity or the darkness of the story sacrificed. 

    One of the reasons that this Shining actually feels like The Shining can unquestionably be chalked up to King’s involvement as both screenwriter and producer. The author’s closeness to the material and his screenwriting experience made him the ideal choice to adapt one of his most popular novels. By the time The Shining came along, King already had experience writing for the screen, including adapting a number of his own works, such as Pet Semetary and Silver Bullet. With the success of 1995’s The Stand, King showed that not only did he know how to write for the medium of television, but just how the novel should transfer. Through his script, the world of The Shining comes to life in a way fans of the novel always hoped it would. There are supernatural moments that happen in the blink of an eye (some of them almost imperceptibly), not to mention the struggle of trying to hold onto normalcy as the horror slowly begins to surround the Torrance family. Meanwhile, the physical settings are richly ornate but made slightly off-putting and unsettling thanks to the otherworldly darkness that King’s story lays over everything in that world. When the themes of guilt, regret, and madness shine through (no pun intended), you can’t help but feel King’s true self as a visual storyteller come out.

    When The Shining aired, it defied expectations and the weight of the 1980 film to bring in huge numbers and become a somewhat critical hit. The production went on to win Emmys for both makeup and sound design and was even nominated as Outstanding Miniseries alongside the remake of Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood and the Francis Ford Coppola-produced version of The Odyssey. However, the reputation it has today seems to signify that it never had the chance to enjoy its success in the years that followed as many not only consider it to be the weaker of the two adaptations, but a subpar King entry in general. In a listicle published earlier this year ranking all of the miniseries based on King’s works, Slash Film’s Chris Evangelista placed The Shining at number 10 out of 16. But look deep enough and you’ll find that The Shining does have its supporters who recognize it as a true interpretation of King’s iconic novel. For them, the joining of King and Garris and the melding of their two sensibilities conspire to take an already thrilling story to places many fans never could have imagined. 

    The Shining is now available on Blu-Ray and DVD from Scream Factory.

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  • Fantastic Fest 2024: GHOST KILLER Brings Unique Spin to Kensuke Sonomura’s Legendary Fight Choreography

    Fantastic Fest 2024: GHOST KILLER Brings Unique Spin to Kensuke Sonomura’s Legendary Fight Choreography

    Action filmmaker Kensuke Sonomura is my guy. 

    A storied action designer, fight choreographer, and stunt professional who has been nothing if not prolific (almost a hundred IMDb credits under the “stunts” category alone), Sonomura has made the leap to directing, as well, with Hydra, Bad City (itself a Fantastic Fest alum), and now Ghost Killer.  

    As a die-hard lifelong action cinema fanatic, I have to admit that I’m not always particularly discerning when it comes to styles. By that I mean, I’m not well-versed enough in martial arts to necessarily tell you if someone is doing kung fu or judo, karate or krav maga. I generally just know if I like it or not. And that’s what matters to me. Kensuke Sonomura is one of the first fight choreographers who came along and brought such a distinct look and feel to his work that I could pop in a movie and think “hey, is this Sonomura doing the action here?” and often be correct in my guess. It’s hard to describe the wildly unique grappling and smooth, off kilter movements of his characters’ fights. And that’s what I love about it. I know the entire action community doesn’t feel as strongly about it as I do, but not only have I not tired of his signature style, it’s become somewhat of a cinematic warm blanket for me, and it’s in top form here in Ghost Killer.

    I’m somewhat loathe to even reveal the unique, high concept “hook” of Ghost Killer, because much of the fun to be had here is the gradual unfolding of what the dynamic between stars Akari Takaishi (Baby Assassins’ gorgeous goofball) and frequent Sonomura star and collaborator Masanori Mimoto is really all about. Ghost Killer doesn’t appear to be a particularly highly budgeted film, but what it may lack in funding is made up for in its technical prowess and its bizarre high concept. So, consider yourself warned and steer clear of the rest of the review if you’re already sold and can’t wait for your next hit of that sweet Sonomura sauce, because you’ll get it here and I recommend you do.

    Fumika (Takaishi) is just a regular college girl: She’s trying her hand at dating, working a rough job in the service industry, and supporting a friend through an abusive relationship. She loves her apartment. By total chance she picks up a shell casing for a bullet that was used to kill the ruthlessly talented hit man Kudo (Mimoto), and his ghost somehow begins to haunt her. J-horror fans may delight at this more humorous and touching approach to a Japanese “grudge” situation. As Fumika and Kudo adjust to their newfound haunting situation (Kudo is new to being dead, after all), they begin to slowly connect relationally and, in the most key dynamic of the film, they realize that with a clasp of hands, Kudo can possess Fumika and imbue her with his “particular set of skills”. And he may need to do this a lot as the only way to break the grudge is to kill whoever killed Kudo. There’s honestly a fair amount of exploration of the concept of consent in the film as Fumika and Kudo work out how each of them feel about entering one another’s bodies. And there’s a whole throughline of some creepy date-rapists that Fumika and Kudo get in some good ass-whupping practice on before they take on the big bads. Like I said, it’s a pretty high concept and Sonomura does everything he can to make it an entertaining one. (The hand clasp component becomes a highly satisfying mechanic that feels totally unique to this film and gloriously portends an imminent merking). 

    I had a really good time with the premise and the sense of humor and heart clicked more for me here than it does with Akari Takaishi’s famous Baby Assassins films. I do think Ghost Killer sags a bit in the middle and occasionally teeters on the edge of losing control of its high concept. But with a dynamite final fight and a charming dynamic between the leads, Ghost Killer certainly makes Sonomura 3 for 3 in my book.  

    And I’m Out.

    Ghost Killer is having its world premiere at Fantastic Fest 2024

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  • Indian Cinema Roundup: SURYA’S SATURDAY, A.R.M., and KALINGA are Playing Now in US Theaters

    Indian Cinema Roundup: SURYA’S SATURDAY, A.R.M., and KALINGA are Playing Now in US Theaters

    By happenstance, the last three movies I’ve seen theatrically have all been Indian films, and that seems like something worth celebrating and sharing.

    It seems only a few years ago that Indian films were often collectively and incorrectly pigeonholed as “Bollywood”; in more recent times American viewers seem to have caught up to the fact that the Indian film industries (plural) have carved out a vast and rich identity with terrific films across different subcultures, native languages, and genres.

    All three of my screenings were well attended, but in each I was the only non-Indian audience member, highlighting an opportunity to encourage American audiences to take chances on this exciting and rewarding pocket of world cinema.

    I’m a novice in this arena and unfamiliar with these stars and filmmakers and their work, but here’s a look at what I’ve viewed lately. All three of these films are currently playing in US theaters and have at least one thing in common: absolute banger soundtracks.

    Surya’s Saturday (Saripodhaa Sanivaaram)

    A high concept Telugu-language action thriller that’s easily the highlight of this roundup, Surya’s Saturday focuses on a protagonist who has a unique way of dealing with his anger issues. As a promise to his dying mother, a young Suyra (Nani) agreed to only act on his rage on Saturdays; a mechanism to force him to calm himself and avoid behaving too rashly, allowing minor offenses to be forgiven and forgotten. But if, on Saturdays, he still holds a grievance, he may act on his anger.

    As an adult, Surya has ardently kept his promise, and with such a fervor that he follow his practice with a religious focus. And over he years, his anger has matured into more of a righteous indignation. Recording any offenses in a notebook, he reads over his grievances each Saturday and then acts on those that still anger him – often ending in a violent beatdown for the offender. His habit of dutifully righting injustices on Saturdays alerts police and criminals alike to the existence of a “Saturday vigilante”, his identity for the most part unknown.

    But Surya’s rigid devotion to his practice causes stress and danger for his family, puts the strain of secrecy on his relationship with Charulathe (Priyanka Mohan), a police officer with whom he has fallen in love, and targets him as a threat to both ruthless gangsters and an outrageously corrupt police captain who terrorizes a local slum (and who happens to be his girlfriend’s boss).

    This is a big crowd-pleaser of a movie, with likeable characters, a charming romance, enjoyable action and fighting sequences, interesting villains, some fun humor (especially as channeled through Surya’s dad, who has has own weekly routine in response to Surya’s), and a unique concept that invites some thought, framed in a plot that could almost play as a western. And of course an incredible hard-driving score. My audience was vocal and engaged, and clearly having a blast.

    Surya’s Saturday is currently wrapping up its theatrical run in the US, so catch it if you can, while you can. A streaming date hasn’t been announced, but the film’s credits highlight Netflix as a distribution partner so it seems likely to hit that platform in the future – but with different international markets that’s not a guarantee. If you’re lucky enough to have this playing near you, I definitely advise to seek it out immediately.

    Update: It’s on Netflix now. Check it out!

    A.R.M. (Ajayante Randam Moshanam)

    Ajayan (Tovino Thomas) is a clever and morally upstanding electrician who has taught himself a valuable trade. He’s also distinguished himself as a formidable fighter and practitioner of the martial art Kalaripayattu. But to most in his village he’s dismissed only as an untrustworthy hoodlum, having come from an infamous family which has yielded two prior generations of thieves. Unfortunately for Ajayan, there actually is a thief in the village, causing him great inconvenience as the #1 suspect.

    Ajayan carries on a secret romance with Lakshmi, his childhood best friend who happens to be the daughter of the richest guy in town. Their forbidden love would never be approved by the old tyrant, who is committed to the concept of superior (and inferior) castes.

    Coerced by gangsters who wish to steal the valuable object for themselves, Ajayan is forced to search for the village’s lost sacred lamp, a religious relic crafted from a fallen asteroid and considered a gift from the heavens – and with whom his family of thieves has a long and storied history.

    Partially told in a nonlinear format, the film recounts the multi-generational stories of Ajayan and his grandfather and great-grandfather (also played by Thomas), piecing together their histories and parallels in their lives, and unlocking past secrets that play on the current story.

    Can Ajayan find the artifact, restore his family’s honor, and live happily ever after with the woman he loves? You can probably anticipate the answer but it sure is a fun adventure to watch.

    The film, which is natively in the Malayalam language, can be watched in 3D screenings as well as 2D, and the 3D deserves a review of its own. It’s very obviously a post-conversion, by which I mean it’s by far the jankiest conversion I’ve ever seen – you can really see the seams of the approach. Objects and edges flit and out of depth, especially in motion. Finer details like tree limbs and hair are blobs. But it’s also an approach that shapes the experience, clearly going for “in your face” impact rather than realism; characters’ faces in particular loom large and protrude garishly. I kind of respect the boldness of it. The 3D does tend to add some fun character to action sequences, even if at times (and arguably because) it looks bonkers. But if you want to appreciate the film more purely on its merits, I’d avoid the distraction of the 3D version.

    Kalinga

    On paper, the Telugu horror thriller Kalinga sounds like it would be right up my alley, but slippery storytelling execution make it a rougher watch than the two other films above. There’s actually a somewhat compelling narrative here, but the film’s unevenness – combining very disparate halves of musical romance and surreal horror – didn’t quite gel for me.

    Almost immediately, the film frustrated me with its introductory narration, a history of gods and monsters illustrated through what appear to be AI-generated images. It was a rough start that would be hard to overcome.

    The rural village of Kalinga borders a vast forest, but the villages rarely venture there – it’s known to be a cursed land. On the rare occasion when they do cross the threshold – to offer a sacrifice, for example – they only stay for a couple of minutes to avoid invoking the wrath of the unknown evil within.

    A young man named Lingaa (Dhruva Vahyu), eager to marry his sweetheart, seeks the release of his generational land held by the Village Head (Adukalam Naren), a ruthless and gangster-like landlord who’s not above murdering uppity peasants to retain or increase his wealth. Seeing the young man’s resolve, the wily Village Head offers Lingaa twice as much land as what he’s owed – but in the cursed area of the forest. It’s clearly the only offer on the table.

    Undeterred, Lingaa agrees to the terms and grabs his reluctant best pal, and the pair enter the forbidden forest to survey his new property and face the ancient evil within. The film takes some stylistic inspiration from The Evil Dead, utilizing a similar first person camera and establishing a foreboding tone to the environs.

    The film picks up considerably in the second half as the duo explore the forest and its caverns and encounter the monster that makes its home there, but it feels a bit labored in getting to this point: The film’s first half focuses on the challenges of romance and real estate (complete with musical numbers), oddly sprinkled with some establishing horror bits. An intermission splits the halves, demonstrating that the filmmakers clearly understood and designed the 2-part narrative structure, even if it felt a little strange to me.

    I really enjoyed the film’s eventual descent into ancient rural horror, but the unevenness of the approach and distasteful AI sequences make it tough to recommend – it was certainly the weakest of this particular trio.

    A/V Out

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  • Criterion Review: Bernardo Bertolucci’s THE LAST EMPEROR

    Criterion Review: Bernardo Bertolucci’s THE LAST EMPEROR

    A sweeping epic, given new luster with a 4K-UHD release

    The phrase ‘epic’ is used all too liberally these days when it comes to movies. An overloaded term used when the latest bit of CGI overload or fan fiction ideals unfold onscreen. Bernardo Bertolucci’s The Last Emperor is one of the true epics. Centered around the life and times of Puyi, the last Emperor of the Qing-dynasty, it’s a window into the end of an era. A film large in scope, undeniable in ambition, and impressive in execution. It won all 9 Academy Awards it was nominated for in1988, including Best Cinematography, Best Costume Design, Best Picture and Best Director

    The year is 1908, and three year old Puyi ascends to the throne. What follows is a revolution, and China’s transition into a republic. The young Emperor and his closest supporters remain sequestered within the walls of the Forbidden palace as the country around them undergoes change. To help Puyi prepare, a tutor named Reginald Johnston arrives from England (the always splendid Peter O’Toole) to illuminate him as to the ways of the world. Eventually leaving the palace behind, Puyi goes from playboy to eventual puppet of two masters, the Japanese and Chinese governments, as his lineage looks to be used to serve their own ends. It’s a fascinating period, the turn of the century bringing massive change across the social and political spectrum. For China, it’s a shift from the Qing-dynasty that had lasted hundreds of years (with Imperial rule actually running over two millennia), with millions of individuals as subjects. In place, the Xinhai Revolution and the rise of the People’s Republic. A paving of the way for Chairman Mao Zedong and his ideologies. With this bigger backdrop, Bertolucci trains his focus on the figure at the center of this sea change. A boy raised with the belief he was chosen by God to lead his people, worshipped and adorned with the trappings of his office, then forced to endure abdication. In the mix is his education and exposure to Western civilization. It’s an eventful journey for Puyi and those in his orbit, tragic at times, especially in the case of his wife, Wan Jung (a heart-wrenching turn from Joan Chen).

    From a filmmaking point of view, The Last Emperor feels like one of those prestige projects that would make or break a studio, something in the vein of Gandhi or Lawrence of Arabia. Much of the epic sheen comes from the unprecedented access given to China and its locations (including the Forbidden City) in order to make the film. This boon to production values we well leveraged by designer Ferdinando Scarfiotti and beautifully showcased by cinematographer Vittorio Storaro. The Last Emperor is detailed, textured, and authentic to the point of decadency. Prestigious fare, where the what’s onscreen matches a level of ambition. Bertolucci was known as a more transgressive filmmaker, with films such as La Luna The Conformist, The Dreamers, and Las Tango in Paris, showcasing his edgier, more confrontational fare. The Last Emperor doesn’t quite resonate in the same way, but it has a more incisive edge that you might expect given the degree to Chinese cooperation. Rather than painting everything in a rosier light, there is a subversive quality to the film. There’s certainly some issues of edging off truths here, John Lone’s performance burnishing Puyi in a way that coupled with the script, certainly glosses over some of his darker tendencies and acts. But, there’s a strong sense within the film that this political transition, which might seem like a shift from tradition to modernity, isn’t so much a move forward as a step sideways. One authoritarian replaces another. Control remains rather than into anything really resembling democracy, or of benefit to your average Chinese citizen. It’s a bold undercurrent threaded through a film that offers a remarkable insight into an age and Chinese culture.

    The Package

    The Last Emperor is a dense, and visually rich film, one that takes on another level of life in 4K. The sheer density of the image elevates details and textures. Colors are robust, balanced, and supported by deep blacks and crisp whites. The details in the dark are especially noteworthy. It should be noted that this all covers the 4K treatment of the theatrical edition. It’s included Blu-ray edition also is a really nice presentation. A third disc includes a TV version of the film which does show up some inconsistencies in quality (and frame ratio), likely due to variances in source material, which is to be expected with those kinds of film cuts. In addition to the two versions of the film, the release is well supported by a host of extras:

    • Audio commentary featuring director Bernardo Bertolucci, producer Jeremy Thomas, screenwriter Mark Peploe, and composer-actor Ryuichi Sakamoto: Rather then a collaboration, the contributors are recorded individually and intercut. It takes away some of the potential for interesting tangents, but the commentary is still interesting, as each breaks down their contributions, insights on the production, experiences on location in China, thoughts on each other, and comments on their other works too
    • 218-minute television version: A longer runtime due to the addition of various expositionary scenes, extended scenes, and additional footage that to be frank, feels somewhat redundant. Apparently recut for a multi-night TV event, the extra content does not add anything but runtime, and severely hampers the films pacing
    • The Italian Traveler, Bernardo Bertolucci, a film by Fernand Moszkowicz tracing the director’s geographic influences, from Parma to China: A personal reflection on filmmakers career, shot in the run up to the start of production on Last Emperor
    • Footage taken by Bertolucci while on preproduction in China: Short, but insightful snippets of video as they scouted locations and reflected on the local culture
    • Bernardo Bertolucci’s Chinese Adventure: Essentially a making of, which at nearly an hour in length, does a pretty good job of covering what’s needed. What is a standout is how portions of it are shot as a guerilla-style documentary, with the camera weaving its way around the sets and sequences, allowing insight and comparison to the completed footage.
    • The Making of The Last Emperor featuring cinematographer Vittorio Storaro, editor Gabriella Cristiani, costume designer James Acheson, and art director Gianni Silvestri: A really good dive into one of the standout qualities of the film, it’s design and production
    • Archival interview with Bertolucci: Taken from a TV broadcast, the director discusses the film’s acclaim and awards, before moving into reflections on his own career, tastes, and French cinema
    • Interviews with composer David Byrne and cultural historian Ian Buruma: Byrne opens up on his approach (showcasing early pieces and samples) and his collaboration with Ryuichi Sakamoto. The latter entitled Beyond the Forbidden City, is a good dive into the history of this period in China, and well worth a watch. The
    • Trailer
    • PLUS: An essay by film critic David Thomson, a reminiscence by Bertolucci, interviews with production designer Ferdinando Scarfiotti and actor Ying Ruocheng, and an essay by Fabien S. Gerard: Contained in the liner notes
    • Cover by Lucien S. Y. Yang

    The Bottom Line

    Criterion’s treatment of The Last Emperor is truly impressive. The 4K remaster is a visual feast for the eyes, and the package is brimming with extra features that do much to expand on the scope, scale, and ambition of the production, as well as dive into and expand upon the historical context of the film, the protagonist, and the wider era of Chinese history.

    The Last Emperor is available August 13th, via 4K-UHD Criterion

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  • Arrow Heads: The Underrated CHRONICLES OF RIDDICK Finally Gets its Due on 4K UHD

    Arrow Heads: The Underrated CHRONICLES OF RIDDICK Finally Gets its Due on 4K UHD

    When I got the pitch to take a look at Arrow’s 4K UHD release of 2004’s The Chronicles of Riddick, it offered up a bit of a moral quandary and something I’ve been pondering for quite some time. While the Sexual Battery charge against star Vin Diesel is still pending, and he’s continued to deny these allegations. Given the recent incident with Joaquin Phoenix, who just walked out on a pending production causing irreparable financial loss to so many folks, whose livelihoods relied on the film, I felt like simply ignoring this film might have been the wrong choice. When I got to dig into the set to review, thanks to the absence of Diesel, probably due to availability or possibly these allegations, it spotlighted how these blockbusters, while they rely on a big name to market them, aren’t simply conjured and are the fruits of hundreds if not thousands of individuals. 

    So with that said….So I am digging in.

    The Chronicles of Riddick was a film that could have only been made thanks to both Diesel’s stardom and director David Twohy unrelenting passion for the charismatic antihero. While the first film respectably doubled its 25 million budget – it was the quintupling of the Fast and the Furious’ 38 million budget that greenlit the blank check film, that is the literal definition of “go big or go home”. For those too young to remember, Diesel was a master of the Facebooks, before Chronicles and subsequently in the leadup to the sequels, Friday were labeled “Furyan Fridays” by the star and he would essentially hype his fans for his eventual return to the character. While his meme game was cringe, he was one of the first stars really leveraging social media in this way, and while it’s now commonplace, this online reaction was the other component that led to the audacity and ambition of Riddick.

    See, while most would have simply replicated the first film, maybe sent Riddick to a new planet where the antihero was yet again charged with saving a group of individuals or fighting for his life (Which was what they did with the third film), Twohy had something bigger in mind. The Chronicles of Riddick is an ambitious world building exercise that rivals a Star Wars or a Dune with its sheer breadth and scope, and to be honest it still is a thing of beauty to behold. The film picks up with Riddick a few years after the events of Pitch Black where a 1.5 Million Dollar bounty has him brought back to Helion Prime and face to face with Abu “Imam” al-Walid (Keith David), the holy man whom he saved in Pitch Black. He’s then asked to help save the universe from a group of intergalactic colonizers called Necromongers, who worship death. They’ve been traveling world to world, killing anyone they can’t convert to their cause. 

    Of course, we also bring back Jack, the young girl who was disguised as a boy from the first film as Riddick tears his way through the Necromonger ranks to save the universe. But along the way we also soon discover they had something to do with the carnage that enveloped his home world of Furya. To be completely honest, I was underwhelmed the first time I caught The Chronicles of Riddick, theatrically, opening day. When I heard a director’s cut was incoming I picked up the special edition day and date and found that it definitely addressed the issues I had with the plot holes, and provided a much more satisfying and enjoyable narrative. That cut is presented here on the set on a 4K UHD, along with the theatrical cut and an “Open Matte” version of the film (LIMITED EDITION EXCLUSIVE), which essentially removed the black bars applied to the image for the 2.35:1 aspect ratio revealing more image. This is a big thing with the collector market right now, with folks buy fullscreen DVDs to enjoy more of the image in these editions. 

    As we’ve witnessed from countless Star Wars clones, intergalactic world building isn’t easy, but here writer/director David Twohy makes it feel effortless. It doesn’t hurt that thanks to Pitch Black he’s already got a stable of engaging characters, including a great anti-hero, who just fires off the one liners like he was trapped in an 80s action flick. Here he’s pitted against the Necromongers, whose not only a great group of antagonists, thanks to their religious zealotry, but their baroque aesthetic that makes them as stylish as they are badass. Subtextually the film is a little light, other than its anti-colonizer message, paired with the ruthlessness of the religious zealots who lack the morals of those who they feel are below them.That said this is a summer blockbuster after all, or was poised to be one, because poor reviews kept fans away from this one. The film currently stands with a 29% on Rotten Tomatoes. 

    While the film missed the mark both critically and financially on its initial theatrical release, it thankfully has since begun to be reappraised thanks to the director’s cut release of the film, hence this release. After The Chronicles fizzled out at the box office, the property was shelved by Universal and famously Diesel leveraged his stinger cameo in Tokyo Drift for the rights to the character, so he could continue the series. This led to not only 2013’s sequel Riddick that was super successful, but the fourth entry in the series that’s currently filming and announced of course – by a Furyan Friday announcement. Watching The Chronicles of Riddick now, you have to admire the sheer audacity behind the film and wonder what might have happened had the director’s cut been the one released. This reasoning is one of the many things discussed on the exhaustive and comprehensive extras on the set put forth by Arrow. 

    The film here is presented in a brand new 4K restorations by Arrow Films of the Theatrical and Director’s Cuts of the film, approved by David Twohy and to be honest the film looks way better than it did on its Blu-ray release. The HDR has been used to hone in on those sci-fi hues and the grain here given the internegative source is present, but not overwhelming. Also, the CGI here has aged as well as the film, since it holds up with the 4K upgrade. The production design is also even more spectacular here, with every fabric and every nook and cranny of every set on display in this new transfer. They really went all out, and every bit of that is thankfully captured here in this detailed and crisp transfer.

    Not only are all three cuts presented on their own 4K UHDs here, but the previous extras were all ported as well. Keep in mind these were the kind of extras crafted when DVD sales were equally as important as theatrical numbers. A big piece of that, once upon a time, was special features to entice folks to buy the film to watch it again and sift through those extras. Coupled with these pre-existing extras is a brand new feature length documentary Ambition on Another Scale: Chronicling a Blockbuster Sequel, featuring interviews with writer-director David Twohy, actors Keith David and Linus Roache, storyboard artist Brian Murray and many others that explores nearly every aspect of the film imaginable.Since these interviews were recent, you get the addition of some added perspective, from the choices then compared to now. 

    The reset of the set is a wealth of information that comes with one of my favorite extras along with the doc, Escape from Butcher Bay, a compilation of cutscenes from the tie-in video game (LIMITED EDITION EXCLUSIVE). This is a super cut of the cutscenes from the XBox game that transpired before the film and explained where Riddick really got his night vision from. Riddick came out around the time in the early aughts where summer blockbusters, like a Matrix, could get not only a video game, but an anime adaptation, which are all pieces of a larger story. I didn’t play the game when the film came out, so this was a welcome bit of lore to get to experience.

    Check out the full rundown of extras below:

    • DISC ONE
    • 4K (2160p) UHD Blu-ray presentation in Dolby Vision (HDR10 compatible) of the Theatrical Cut from the original negative
    • Ambition on Another Scale: Chronicling a Blockbuster Sequel, a brand-new feature-length documentary on the film, featuring interviews with writer-director David Twohy, actors Keith David and Linus Roache, storyboard artist Brian Murray, and many others
    • Realizing Riddick, a new interview with Twohy on the creation of the character
    • Back to Black, a new interview with Murray on his continuing work within the Riddick saga
    • Chronicles of a Cult Film Celebrity, a new interview with David on the role of Imam
    • Theatrical trailers
    • DISC TWO
    • 4K (2160p) UHD Blu-ray presentation in Dolby Vision (HDR10 compatible) of the Director’s Cut
    • Archive audio commentary by David Twohy and Vin Diesel
    • Archive audio commentary by Twohy and co-stars Karl Urban and Alexa Davelos
    • Archive introduction by Twohy
    • Creation of New Mecca, an archive featurette focusing on the world and characters of Helion Prime
    • Riddick Rises, an archive featurette focusing on the prison planet of Crematoria
    • Keep What You Kill, an archive featurette focusing on the world of the Necromongers
    • Visual Effects Revealed, an archive featurette focusing on the VFX
    • Interactive Production Calendar, a series of short, candid videos filmed throughout shooting
    • Production Vignettes, a series of short behind-the-scenes segments
    • Three deleted scenes
    • Virtual Guide to the Chronicles of Riddick, a series of short animated segments explaining the world of the film
    • Toombs’ Chase Log, a short film narrated by Nick Chinlund in character
    • A guided tour of the set by Vin Diesel, along with 360-degree panoramic views of eight sets from the film
    • On-set interviews with Twohy, Diesel, Dench, Urban, Colm Feore, Alexa Davelos, Thandiwe Newton and producer Scott Kroopf
    • Promotional interviews with Twohy, Diesel, Newton, Urban, Davelos and Feore
    • Easter egg
    • DISC THREE (LIMITED EDITION EXCLUSIVE)
    • 4K (2160p) UHD Blu-ray presentation in Dolby Vision (HDR10 compatible) of the Theatrical Cut in the alternate 1.78:1 aspect ratio
    • Escape from Butcher Bay, a compilation of cutscenes from the acclaimed tie-in video game
    • The Lowdown, a television special produced to promote the film’s original release

    It’s at times frustrating watching The Chronicles of Riddick now, especially in its director’s cut form. The film is a rare example of a really well executed sci-fi, horror, fantasy, that didn’t get its due thanks to studio interference over runtime of all things. Afterwards it would be nearly a decade before we would get another glimpse into the world and that would lead to another film. Arrow have really outdid themselves here presenting featurettes and interviews that delve into almost anything a fan would want to know, utilizing both archival and new interviews along with restoring a film that most never gave a second chance. It’s great that they are not just focusing on obscure genre fare and also releasing blockbusters that may not get the same treatment otherwise even by their own home studios. 

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  • THE ABYSS: James Cameron’s Stunning Director’s Cut Restored & Explored [Two Cents]

    THE ABYSS: James Cameron’s Stunning Director’s Cut Restored & Explored [Two Cents]

    Two Cents is a Cinapse original column akin to a book club for films. The Cinapse team curates the series and contribute their “two cents” using a maximum of 200-400 words. Guest contributors and comments are encouraged, as are suggestions for future picks. Join us as we share our two cents on films we love, films we are curious about, and films we believe merit some discussion. Would you like to be a guest contributor or programmer for an upcoming Two Cents entry? Simply watch along with us and/or send your pitches or 200-400 word reviews to [email protected].

    Any cinephile worth their salt is going to have a soft spot for epic pictures. The grandest tales told on the biggest screens with the hugest visuals conceivable to mankind, and the runtimes to match. This month’s “Epics Revisited” programming highlights the Cinapse team’s curated list of some of our top films that were significantly altered (and improved) by their Director’s Cuts. Often these are titles that are drastically different than what was initially released theatrically.

    The Pick: The Abyss (Special Edition)

    Featured Guest

    Nathan Flynn

    James Cameron’s The Abyss (1989) is a haunting epic that functions as both a high-stakes sci-fi thriller and a deeply personal film for the director. Released during a period of personal turmoil—namely his divorce—it feels like a cinematic attempt at self-actualization, where Cameron channels his emotional struggles into a grand narrative about human connection, the unknown, and the future of the world. This underlying tension gives The Abyss a distinct gravity, setting it apart from his more action-driven films.

    In many ways, The Abyss serves as a precursor to other films that explore extraterrestrial life as a means of emotional expression and communication, such as Robert Zemeckis’s Contact (1997) and Denis Villeneuve’s Arrival (2016). Much like those films, The Abyss uses the discovery of otherworldly beings to push its characters—often emotionally closed-off or withdrawn—to confront their feelings and vulnerabilities. In The Abyss, the interaction with these beings catalyzes the characters’ emotional transformations, forcing them to connect with each other in ways they previously avoided.

    The ensemble cast of The Abyss is one of its strongest elements. Ed Harris and Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio both deliver emotionally grounded performances, but it’s Michael Biehn who truly stands out, giving what is arguably his best performance in a Cameron film. His portrayal of Lt. Coffey, a man unraveling under the pressure of isolation and paranoia, is intense and chilling, adding to the film’s underlying psychological tension.

    Despite its strengths, The Abyss is often overlooked in Cameron’s filmography. While it may not rank among my favorite of his works, it remains one of his most mature and serious efforts. It’s certainly his saddest film, focusing on themes of loss, regret, and reconciliation. The emotional weight of The Abyss distinguishes it from his more action-oriented projects like Aliens or Terminator 2: Judgment Day, making it a unique entry in his career.

    Behind the scenes, The Abyss is also infamous for its troubled production, which was as grueling as the story it told. Cast and crew were subjected to intense physical demands, working in a massive underwater set that left many with lasting grievances. This dedication to realism in underwater filmmaking marked the beginning of Cameron’s obsession with water and deep-sea exploration, which would later culminate in films like Titanic (1997) and his documentary work on the deep ocean.

    At its core, The Abyss is Cameron’s divorced dad movie.  It’s both a technical marvel and a deeply personal film, capturing the emotional turbulence of its creator while also delivering breathtaking visuals. Like many of Cameron’s films, The Abyss strikes a balance between moments of eye-rolling melodrama and moments of pure, awe-inspiring beauty. This tension—between the deeply personal and the visually epic—is what makes The Abyss such a fascinating entry in his career, even if it’s one of the few times a movie of his didn’t break box office records.

    (@NathanFlynn on Twitter)

    The Team

    Ed Travis

    “DONT CRY BABY. KNEW THIS WAS ONE WAY TICKET BUT YOU KNOW I HAD TO COME LOVE YOU WIFE” – with these deepsea proto-text messages, Virgil “Bud” Brigman (Ed Harris) single handedly saved mankind from a tsunami destruction at the hands of advanced alien observers who had been convinced we were beyond redemption but for Bud’s sacrificial love. I’m sorry, but this Jesus guy can’t help but weep every time I watch The Abyss and thank Bud Brigman for sacrificing himself for our (and Michael Biehn’s) sins.

    The Abyss has always meant a lot to me. I don’t know when I first experienced it or even understood it as a part of James Cameron’s larger body of work. But I know I owned a clamshell case VHS of the film that I watched often through childhood and deeply felt the lack of an HD version of the film and wept in theaters earlier this year when the 4K re-release of the film hit theaters for one night only and I was able to bring my wife and daughter to experience it with me. (My daughters review? She thinks the 3-fingered aliens are very cute). 

    Cameron isn’t exactly an underdog, what with being the unqualified most successful commercial filmmaker of all time and all. He doesn’t need defenders. But it’s only been in my time as a parent over the last decade in which I’ve now shared both Avatar films and The Abyss in theaters with my impressionable child, that I have realized James Cameron is an important voice in my life and, basic as it may be, one of my most favorite story tellers. I used to always believe it was his impeccable visuals and jaw-dropping world building and aesthetic that truly kept me coming back. But it’s not. It’s the heart. I see you, James Cameron. 

    The Abyss is wildly ahead of its time with genre-defining gci work even before Terminator 2, boundary-pushing model work, and genuine underwater photography that stuns and delights even today. The ambition, the scope, the cast, the stakes… they’re all larger than life and represent one of the greatest sci-fi epics ever told on film. Then James Cameron spent the next several decades “topping” what he accomplished here. That said, this might be my actual favorite James Cameron film, and it’s going to come back to Bud Brigman and Lindsey (Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio) and their frosty romance being rekindled amidst underwater nuclear threats and first contact with achingly beautiful alien creatures. 

    I adore everything about The Abyss from top to bottom. The Seal “underwater breathing” tech sequences, the CGI tentacle, the crazy nuke marines, the optimism of Lindsey’s experience of the NTI’s (“we have to see with better eyes”), the CPR sequence, and most of all, the redemptive and self-sacrifical journey of one of cinema’s most underappreciated action protagonists of all time: we salute you Bud Brigman. Your love saved us all. 

    (@Ed_Travis on Xitter)

    Austin Vashaw

    What a powerhouse of a movie! James Cameron’s underwater epic was probably most known for its arduous production and pioneering use of CGI effects, which is sort of a disservice because it’s such a deeply human story of love and sacrifice, ultimately bridging the cosmic to the intimate with a stunning third act that proposes that there’s still hope for the human race, leaving this viewer a teary mess.

    I’m not sure if there’s anything so hardwired into the human brain as the instinct to panic when drowning, and the film milks that instinct in its nightmare scenarios. Most interestingly, the concept of an oxygenated breathable liquid is compared to amniotic fluid – taking this analogy to its conclusion, Ed Harris’s emergence isn’t just survival. It’s a rebirth.

    Funnily enough, this might sound like the ravings of a first-time viewer but I’ve seen The Abyss before. It didn’t particularly resonate with me in 2013, especially compared to Cameron favorites like the Terminator films, Aliens, or even True Lies. Unlike those bangers, I hadn’t first seen it at a younger age and when I finally caught up with it, it didn’t particularly click.

    This rewatch felt revelatory, a completely different experience. The rote and obvious answer would be that I’m now viewing it through married eyes, but I don’t think that’s entirely it either. More likely I just wasn’t in the right headspace the last time and got lost in picking up what the movie’s throwing down. (The way the NTIs/aliens infrequently weave into the narrative can be disorienting, especially if you go in expecting them to be the “A” plot). Evidently having some understanding of the film’s strange narrative structure helped to make it more enjoyable the second time around.

    I love hard science fiction (with emphasis on the science), and while it’s a bit more blockbustery, The Abyss may have just joined The Andromeda Strain and Silent Running among my favorites in that arena.

    (@vforvashaw on Twitter)

    Brendan Agnew

     Few directors can boast a career as successful as James Cameron, but as much as I enjoy his box office behemoths, it’s his lone financial failure that has always resonated deepest with me. The Abyss was infamous in both its ambition and friction during filming as well as its late-in-coming appreciation by audiences that discovered it long after its theatrical run. I was one of those, falling in love with Bud and Lindsey’s adventure after becoming fast friends with Cameron’s other memorable characters and being genuinely won over by the director’s clear affection for the aquatic. With the newly remastered 4k edition finally on disc after having screened in cinemas last year, the director’s cut of this underwater epic is now more widely available than ever. And while I’ve loved this since I first caught it more than 20 years ago, seeing it on the big screen only reaffirmed how much I appreciate this sweeping romantic sci-fi that’s also an accidental harbinger of Cameron’s future endeavors.

    There’s a ton of The Abyss that looks like something of a dry run for everything from the fractious marriage in True Lies to the disaster sequences of Titanic and Avatar: The Way of Water, but Cameron’s ambitious story keeps it all tied coherently together even as it blurs genre lines. The intimate character drama crashing into a sci-fi cold war thriller turns what could almost be a rom-com plot into a nail-biting pressure cooker that still maintains tension even when you know how it’s all going to play out. Cameron’s gift for narrative and emotional clarity is working on truly Spielbergian levels here, not accidentally as this could easily (and only somewhat reductively) be called his version of Close Encounters. But for all that it’s tied to the time it was made, most of it holds up spectacularly. The Director’s Cut features several sequences and effects that were never mastered for anything beyond standard definition presentation, and that’s the only place where the film has seriously aged in terms of visuals. The floating grace and bio-luminescence of the NTIs presages the flora and fauna of Pandora, and still makes for some of the most genuinely awe-inspiring filmmaking Cameron’s managed when he truly pulls back the curtain in Act 3.

    The Abyss isn’t just a technical marvel or a taut thriller, it’s a deeply personal and 100% earnest argument that tiny moments of humanity and acts of selflessness are what make us worth fighting for the future of our species in spite of ourselves. As someone who grew up loving nature documentaries just as much as movies as a kid, it felt tailor-made for me when I saw it the first time. From the performances to the gorgeous photography to the slow-burn pacing, it still knocks me flat to this day.

    (@blcagnew on Xitter)

    Julian Singleton

    The Abyss sets itself up as another exciting blockbuster from the man behind Aliens and The Terminator franchise, immediately grabbing audiences with the hook of a salvage team diving to retrieve a massive US nuclear arsenal trapped in deep-sea waters between the US and Cuba. But in choosing to begin with the Nietzsche quote that inspires the film’s title, James Cameron drills in his audience that his aims are once again set at ambitious heights. It’s a riveting, reflective parable about trust in human goodness–and our universal potential to be better than the environments and emotions that threaten to limit our progress.

    If there’s one maxim about directors I’ve learned in life, it’s to never bet against James Cameron. With the production histories of movies like this, Titanic, and more, the man has a preternatural ability to use the latest tech in mind-boggling ways that seem to only cohere once the theater lights dim, and convert skeptics as soon as the lights go back up. With this in mind, what I love so much about The Abyss is how it sits in such a unique place in Cameron’s filmography between his later boundary-pushing experiments with CGI and the inventive practical effects he made a name with in films like Carpenter’s Escape From New York. You have full-on submarine rover wars that blend seamlessly between sets in actual underwater tanks and models with small experimental screens playing actor footage inside them. In some of the film’s most touching moments, Cameron plays into the uncanny valley of early CGI graphics in realizing The Abyss’ water-based NTIs. All of these sights, caught between intensely real and fantastically alien, play with a sense of awe and majesty befitting the natural mystery of the deep, a longtime fascination of Cameron’s.

    No matter what tech is being used, though, Cameron uses these individual technical magic tricks in service of the larger emotional story he’s trying to tell. These people, trapped at the bottom of the ocean with these mysterious forces and with the fate of humanity suddenly on the line, must decide whether to give into impulsive, destructive distrust or take a leap of faith into the unknown. This wide-eyed third act sees Cameron shift from his most claustrophobic to his most cosmic with grace, using his blockbuster prowess to issue a call for sanity at the closure of the Cold War. As such, there’s an immense curiosity pervading every sequence of The Abyss about how we use the latest advancements in any tech, coupled with a reserved sense of responsibility in doing so. In exploring the unknown, he seems to urge, set your eyes to the stars–but never lose sight of what’s within.

    The Abyss, by all accounts, was a traumatizing shoot for all involved; the end results, rich with chaos and compassion, are an effective testament to their efforts.

    (@Gambit1138 on Xitter)

    CINAPSE REVISITS OUR BEST FORGOTTEN EPICS

    In September, dive into epic films in their directors’ uncut, definitive forms. These bold visions by our favorite filmmakers use every minute of runtime to immerse us in vast worlds and compelling stories. Join us by contacting our team or emailing [email protected]! 

    September 30th – Kingdom of Heaven: Roadshow Director’s Cut (3 hours, 9 minutes)

    OCTOBER: Found Footage Horror Curated by Julian Singleton in Honor of His NOROI Commentary Track

    We couldn’t be more proud that our friend and colleague Julian Singleton had the opportunity to record a commentary track on his favorite horror film Noroi: the Curse for a major upcoming home video release from Arrow Video: J-Horror Rising! In celebration of Julian’s passion we’re dedicating spooky month to exploring some of his top found footage recommendations.

    And We’re Out.

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  • Fantastic Fest 2024 Approaches! The Cinapse Team’s Most Anticipated Films

    Fantastic Fest 2024 Approaches! The Cinapse Team’s Most Anticipated Films

    Chaos Reigns at the Alamo Drafthouse South Lamar September 19th-26th

    Buckle up, it’s about to get a little chaotic. Yes, it’s that time of year again when the Alamo South Lamar gives itself over to a crew of film fanatics to witness a collection of new and repertory screenings of the best that genre cinema has to offer. It’ll be the first edition of the festival unfolding under new ownership, after the fest, and indeed the Alamo Drafthouse was purchased by Sony. Will it mean anything? It’s unlikely, with the programming team and schedule largely being in place when the sale went through. But there’s plenty to speculate about when it comes to the motives, and possible long-term changes we might see. Here and now, we’re just looking forward to seeing good movies. You can scope out the full schedule here, but check out our top picks from the lineup below, and be sure to keep an eye on Cinapse throughout the festival to see our coverage.

    Jon Partridge

    For someone whose favorite film is The Wicker Man, there’s an obvious pick in a documentary that delves into the making of, and impact of the film, not just on audiences but also the family of filmmaker Robin Hardy. Children of the Wicker Man sees his sons Justin and Dominic Hardy open up about their father and his landmark horror feature. It looks to also be well complemented by another documentary from Jon Spira, The Life and Deaths of Christopher Lee, which delves not just into the filmography of the actor, but his even richer personal life.

    Continuing my love of cult is Get Away, where a trip to a remote Swedish island lands a family of 4 amid some weird behavior from the locals, seemingly in preparation for some secretive local event. Directed by FF alum Steffen Haars (New Kids Turbo), there’s an added bonus in the legendary Nick Frost (Spaced, Shaun of the Dead) serving as cowriter/star.

    One of the defining horror memories I have is an episode of Star Trek: TNG, where a crew member phases out of alignment with matter and solidifies, stuck halfway-submerged in the deck. It’s a gnarly and chilling visual with horrifying potential, something Else seems to be mining in a film where a virus causes people to merge with their surroundings.

    Don’t Mess With Grandma is an instant pick. It’s a film that sounds like a blend of action and farce, as a dutiful grandson (Michael Jai White!) looks to shield his grandmother from a break-in at her home while dispatching justice to the perps who dare to cross her threshold.

    Finally, the crown prince of Fantastic Fest Nacho Vigalondo returns with Daniela Forever. A simple synopsis describing a grieving man connecting to his lost love with a new experimental drug is intriguing enough, but add in that unique Vigalondo vibe, and his chaotic presence, it’s a screening you won’t want to miss.

    Get Away

    Julian Singleton:

    Cloud: With all-timer films like Cure, Pulse, Tokyo Sonata, and To the Ends of the Earth during his legendary career, it’s always a thrill to screen a new film by Japanese auteur Kiyoshi Kurosawa. He’s amid what’s already a banner year, with Kurosawa’s French remake of his own Serpent’s Path opening alongside viral horror sensation Chime. To cap things off, Cloud isn’t just a Fantastic Fest selection–but Japan’s latest entry in the Oscars’ Best International Feature race. Fresh off rave reviews in Venice, I still don’t know what to expect from Kurosawa’s tale of an online re-seller thrust into peril–but that’s part of the exciting mystery of sitting down to one of his films.

    Anora: Equally unpredictable are the films of Sean Baker, whose Tangerine, Florida Project, and Red Rocket provoke audiences to find empathy and compassion with some of modern film’s wildest characters. His latest, Anora, continues the Fantastic Fest unofficial tradition of screening Cannes Palme d’Or winners–and from the looks of NEON’s high-energy, Uncut Gems-esque trailer, this looks like the perfect film to blow the roof off of Alamo South Lamar as much as the Croisette.

    Terrifier 3: It was such a thrill being in the audience for Terrifier 2’s midnight premiere two years ago, and it looks like Damien Leone’s follow-up to his 2022 hit further pushes the gory envelope of his franchise with just as much fiendish glee and creativity. With more time and resources at his disposal (Terrifier 2 took four years to finish), it’ll be disturbingly fascinating to see what ghoulish surprises are in store for this year’s must-see midnight.

    Apartment 7A: Natalie Erika James’ debut feature Relic is such a sublimely chilling horror flick. It’s a methodically unnerving depiction of generational horror as a mother and daughter deal with a grandmother’s descent into dementia–whose slow-burn horror explodes into House of Leaves-style terrors and body horror by its conclusion. Her craft already on display made me ridiculously excited for her latest, Apartment 7A–only to have my anticipation reach new heights once it was revealed this was a stealth Rosemary’s Baby prequel. Joining the ranks of motherly mayhem as The First Omen and Immaculate, I can’t wait to see what James’ unique approach to horror brings to this reinvention of a horror classic.

    The Wild Robot: I’ll always carve out time for any animated film that Fantastic Fest curates, having screened such immediate favorites as BELLE and Unicorn Wars. I was stoked to find that the fest had booked The Wild Robot, still reeling from its enigmatic teaser trailer that was lush with eye-popping visuals and roving energy that seemed to ground Dreamworks’ latest in the freewheeling spirit of its peak How to Train your Dragon days. With an all-star voice cast led by Lupita Nyong’o, I’m looking forward to a break from the Fantastic Fest madness to indulge my inner child for a few hours. 

    Of what I’ve seen, the Kazakh post-apocalyptic thriller Steppenwolf is firmly among my contenders for the best of the year, and it’s so cool that we’re taking some time to celebrate the awe-inspiring career of Johnnie To with his improvisational gangster epic The Mission (on 35mm no less!). That said, it’s nothing short of a dream come true to finally see Tarsem’s The Fall on the big screen in a new 4K restoration with newly added material. It’s a jaw-dropping masterpiece whose unavailability for nearly two decades has been nothing short of a tragedy–and Fantastic Fest is the perfect place for The Fall to have its North American rebirth. 

    Cloud

    Dan Tabor

    First and foremost is the latest by Bertrand Mandico, one of my favorite directors working today – Dragon Dilation (She is Conann, After Blue and The Wild Boys). This is the director’s third year in a row at the fest with him serving up a film that, similar to Wicked Wicked, is completely presented in split screen. No doubt utilizing the director’s grotesquely haunting practical stage play-esque visual style, this time to interpret two famous works: Stravinsky’s ballet Petrouchka and Dante’s The Divine Comedy.

    You know it’s not really a Fantastic Fest without a new installment of V/H/S. This year we get V/H/S/Beyond, the seventh installment of the franchise that will feature six new segments, this time taking the horror and going sci-fi this time around. I love a good anthology and this franchise has been raised from the dead, thanks to the folks at Shudder who definitely understand what made this series work.

    I love me some Indonesian horror, and that coupled with Austin King’s writeup of The Draft sold me promising: “a blend of Cabin in the Woods, Scream, and a Kurt Vonnegut novel (that) takes multiple dizzying turns as the danger and the body count grow.” I love a good meta-narrative and to see those American tropes through another cultural lens sounds nothing short of fascinating.

    Trizombie‘s description reminded me of one of my favorite films I caught at Fantastic Fest: Detective Downs, a tongue-in-cheek noir featuring an actor with Down Syndrome. While it could have been simply exploitation, the film instead humanized and normalized its protagonist, delivering a heartwarming story of a different kind of hero–and this film looks to offer up more of the same. This film takes place at a housing complex for Down syndrome at the onset of a zombie apocalypse. The twist here is the residents quickly realize their Down syndrome is what’s keeping them from becoming ghouls as they fight for their lives.

    Finally, I am all about the weird French comedies and Kung-fu flicks and Zénithal sounds like a bizarre hybrid take on the classic story of a group of students trying to avenge their martial arts master. It’s just in this film he’s also an exceptionally well-endowed adult film star.

    Trizombie


    Ed Travis

    Ghost Killer: Director and career action and stunt coordinator Kensuke Sonomura is simply one of the most exciting talents working in action cinema today, with no other qualifiers needed. His films Hydra and Bad City have ranked among my top action films of the year upon their releases, and Ghost Killer pairs him up with one of the stars of the Baby Assassins films (which he does action direction for) and I’m all in and stoked to be among the first to have the chance to check this new film out.

    Don’t Mess With Grandma: I’d never heard of this film until seeing it on the Fantastic Fest lineup. But I’m a tried and true Michael Jai White fan who has followed his career since I first discovered Undisputed II and his magnum opus Blood & Bone. He’s a triple-threat star who can write and direct, can kick ass, and cut up. Looking a little deeper, though, Don’t Mess With Grandma comes to us from director Jason Krawczyk, who also made an absolute gem of a film that I adore deeply called He Never Died. With this talent lined up, I need know nothing more about Don’t Mess With Grandma. My butt is firmly in a seat.

    I, The Executioner: Korean director Ryoo Seung-wan is kind of the king of action comedy these days. This film is a sequel to Veteran, and pairs the director once again with star Hwang Jun-min as the relentless and socially inept detective who will break all the norms and push against all the systems to get his perp. It’s less Dirty Harry than it sounds, partly due to a fair amount of humor that gives way to a relentless thriller. If any of the magic of Veteran can be recaptured in the sequel, I’ll be a happy fest-goer.

    Ick: I intend to go into this film knowing very little beyond that fact that Fantastic Fest alum Joseph Kahn made it. Kahn is a divisive filmmaker who’s known for being somewhat of a maximalist (before that was even a word) and while I don’t think I’ve always connected with all of his work, his premiere of battle rap film Bodied at Fantastic Fest was one of the most memorable and incredible screenings I’ve ever attended in my film-fest-going life.

    The Mission: I’m a Hong Kong-loving action film fanatic and while I’ve seen enough Johnnie To movies that they kind of run together in my head, I very much look forward to revisiting this classic with an audience on the big screen. I remember so little about the film it’ll be like a first-time watch for me, but I just generally adore luxuriating in the cinema of the Hong Kong golden era, and a restoration from that era is always great news.

    Don’t Mess with Grandma

    Fantastic Fest runs from September 19th, through the 26th, at the Alamo Drafthouse S Lamar, Austin, TX. For more information, visit https://www.fantasticfest.com/

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  • ARROW HEADS: FRIDAY THE 13th (2009) Looks Sharp on 4K

    ARROW HEADS: FRIDAY THE 13th (2009) Looks Sharp on 4K

    The Platinum Dunes reboot comes to 4K via Arrow Video and makes us hungry for more Jason

    Review disc provided by Arrow Video, images captured by the reviewer and subject to copyright

    The 2000s saw something of a gold rush of classic horror remakes, from 2003’s Texas Chainsaw Massacre to 2010’s Nightmare on Elm Street. Arguably, one of the most successful of these attempts was Marcus Nispel’s remake of the 1980 slasher classic, Friday the 13th. Blending elements of the first four movies in the series, Nispel’s revival acts like a greatest hits buffet of Crystal Lake carnage that catches up newcomers as well as playing to long-time fans of the franchise.

    After a brutal prelude where a group of campers stumble upon a certain bag-headed stalker (Derek Meers), the film catches up with Clay (Jared Padalecki) as he searches for his vanished sister, Whitney (Amanda Righetti). As he puts up missing posters, he runs into Jenna (Danielle Panabaker) and her scummy boyfriend Trent (Travis van Winkle) who are on their way to a lake house getaway with their friends at–well, no prize for guessing which lake they’re going to. What follows is exactly the sort of gleeful debauchery and grisly death that pretty much anyone familiar with the hockey mask will expect from this setup. However, while anyone with even a passing familiarity with the series will be able to guess most of the first two acts, the movie’s merit is all in the (forgive me) execution.

    While the casting is in full 2000’s-era “everyone looks unrealistically hot” mode, the solid charisma of the characters and heavyweights like Padalecki and Panabaker, combined with the especially bleak and brutal kills, go a long way towards keeping stakes clear and investing the audience in (most of) these characters’ survival. Even cast members who won’t be sticking around long are given time to establish dynamics that acknowledge the line between amiably obnoxious and actively unpleasant. Nispel proves early that he’s adept at building the “oh no, they don’t know they’re in a Jason movie” tension, cutting between different characters and locations to keep it bubbling. He also decently oscillates between sustained dramatic irony and just mashing the “big ol’ jump scare” button to keep things popping.

    One of the smarter choices that screenwriters Damion Shannon and Mark Swift (who also wrote 2003’s Freddy vs. Jason) make is how this movie sorta speed runs the first four Friday the 13th films. The film opens with a stylistic credits sequence showing the violent end of Mrs. Vorhees’ rampage at Camp Crystal Lake in 1980 before picking up in present day, and when we first see Jason he’s wearing the burlap sack on his head that he sported in 1981’s Friday the 13th Part 2 before donning the iconic hockey mask from Part 3. There’s also the young bachelor who lost a sister from The Final Chapter, as well as various other nods to the franchise’s history. However, the movie also throws in a few new elements and rotates things enough to even make you wonder who the film’s “designated survivor(s)” might be.

    Among the possibly “controversial” elements in this vein is the expanded view we get of Jason’s lair. Not only does he haunt the old campgrounds of Crystal Lake, but he’s got a warren of underground tunnels and tripwire alarms set up which let him know where unsuspecting new victims may be found. I actually really like this touch – while I never needed “explanations” for how Jason was able to pop up at various points around his stomping grounds, the addition of a literal other level to explore helps the escalation of the third act. I also appreciate the claustrophobia it introduces, and the production design (including entrances spilling into ancient school buses as well as convenient trapdoors) feels very much at home alongside the dilapidated cabins and tool-filled barns more familiar to the series.

    This is also a Jason who has a (very select) interest in prisoners, another potential sticking point. However, it’s mostly in the service of giving characters the chance to make canny choices to exploit his memories of his mother (not unlike Ginny’s big moment in Part 2‘s finale), and this movie knows how to follow up a smart payoff with a satisfying hit. And it’s not like this Jason is pulling any punches. Meers is embodying one of the more mobile versions of this character, running at full speed as Jason did in his early films, and he’s great at being both physically imposing as well as doing just enough body acting to give us a glimpse of the killer’s thought processes at key moments. Kane Hodder has more than cemented his place as the iconic Jason actor, but Meers proved himself the ideal successor here, and deserved more at-bats to see where he could go.

    Ironically, one of the tragedies of this movie not getting any successors (copyright shenanigans having kept there from being any new entry since 2009) also makes it feel a bit special among so many entry-a-year sequels in the genre. If you want a gory slasher where careless youths meet gruesome fates, this one is determined to give you your money’s worth. While the film as a whole doesn’t reach the heights of prime cut horror remakes like Carpenter’s The Thing, Russell’s The Blob, or Reeves’ Let Me In, it’s both a rewarding watch for Crystal Lake veterans and a rock-solid tasting for anyone wanting to dip their toes into the franchise for the first time.

    Presentation:

    Arrow has more than proven their chops at high-quality presentation on their premium 4k releases, and Friday the 13th is no exception. Both the theatrical and extended cuts included feature 5.1 DTSHD sound, and from the gooey sound effects and shrill screams to the eerily re-orchestrated music by Steve Jablonsky, this is a solid meat and potatoes audio showcase.

    Both cuts of the film also boast 4K Dolby Vision video, which is easily one of the best reasons to upgrade to this release. Nispel makes good use of some stylistically extreme visual choices during the credits sequence (splashing brief moments of color into the black-and-white 1980 flashback) and the present-day material comes through with both vibrant color and appreciably deep blacks, while always prioritizing high visibility – even at night in the woods. The transfer captures the visual hallmarks of the era, from saturated colors to plentiful lens flares, and never looks overly-graded or scrubbed.

    Both cuts of the movie are presented in 2:35:1 anamorphic widescreen.

    Bonus Content:

    Arrow didn’t skimp here, either. All the previous extras from the 2009 home video release are included here, along with new features including interviews and commentaries.

    Disc 1 (4K UHD)

    Theatrical Cut of the film (97 minutes)

    • Brand new audio commentary by director Marcus Nispel
    • Brand new audio commentary by writers Mark Swift and Damian Shannon
    • Brand new interview with director Marcus Nispel
    • Brand new interview with writers Mark Swift and Damian Shannon
    • Brand new interview with cinematographer Daniel Pearl
    • A Killer New Beginning, an exclusive video essay about why horror fans shouldn’t fear remakes, what 2009’s Friday the 13th remake gets right, and why the film serves as a perfect template for future franchise remakes by film critic Matt Donato
    • Excerpts from the Terror Trivia Track
    • The Rebirth of Jason Voorhees archival featurette
    • Hacking Back / Slashing Forward archival featurette
    • The 7 Best Kills archival featurette
    • Deleted scenes
    • Original teaser, trailer and TV spots
    • Electronic press kit
    • Image gallery

    Disc 2 (4K UHD)

    • Extended “Killer Cut” of the film (106 minutes)
    • Brand new audio commentary by film critics Alexandra Heller-Nicholas and Josh Nelson

    Note: the “Killer Cut” largely consists of extended scenes of violence/gore during kills and more sexuality/nudity, but there are also some minor scene extensions and a minor subplot about Whitney nearly escaping from Jason being re-edited. This is a classic example of ’00s-era home video “unrated” versions rather than a “director’s cut,” but is still the ideal way for most Jason fans to watch the film.

    With both cuts of the movie, the extras from the previous release, the new features, and the sumptuous presentation, this is easily the Cadillac release of Platinum Dunes’ Friday the 13th. Here’s hoping it won’t be another 15 years before it has some company.

    Friday the 13th is now available on 4K UHD from Arrow Video.

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  • THE BOY AND THE HERON: Miyazaki’s Final Dreamscape Stuns on 4K UHD

    THE BOY AND THE HERON: Miyazaki’s Final Dreamscape Stuns on 4K UHD

    The possible swan song from legendary animator Hayao Miyazaki is a powerful reckoning between dreams and reality

    Even months removed from my first viewings of The Boy and the Heron, Hayao Miyazaki’s alleged final film feels daunting to write about. After decades of searingly memorable animated classics, The Boy and the Heron defies easy categorization or swift analysis. 

    The film follows young Mahito, fresh from the wartime loss of his mother, as he adjusts to his new countryside life with his industrialist father and his new, pregnant stepmother, Natsuko. The relationship is contentious–in many ways, Natsuko is a clone of the mother Mahito lost–something that his father embraces yet only heightens Mahito’s confused grief and anger. Yet when Natsuko is kidnapped by mysterious forces inhabiting an abandoned tower on their property, Mahito takes it upon himself to rescue her. Bow and arrow in hand, Mahito follows the dubious guidance of a shady, shapeshifting heron into a disparately connected fantasia where the brain takes a logical and emotional backseat to the heart. 

    Perhaps that was a factor in Studio Ghibli’s decision to initially release it in its native Japan without any promotional material at all–an approach that I held fast to in the anticipatory weeks before Heron’s first American screenings. While beginning in such grounded terror during World War II, the fantasy of Heron quickly and deliberately untethers itself from concerns of consequence and plot. Sure, there’s a diligent focus on getting back Natsuko, but Mahito becomes diverted into stunning side-quests involving pelicans, cannibalistic parakeets, fire-slinging maidens, cryptid fisherwomen, and the amorphous blobs humans start as before birth. It’s impossible to predict just where Miyazaki’s film will take us next–but the film’s events feel far from arbitrary. There’s an imaginative logic that replaces traditional senses of causal connective tissue, with the senseless yet memorable imperative demands of dream-beings taking center stage. Regardless of how much this makes sense, the emotional impulses feel correct from moment to moment: we have to exit the graveyard like this, we have to get on the boat, and we can’t let the pelicans eat the warawara. Removed from the foundations of reality, we instinctively grab hold of whatever logical flotsam can save us. And with The Boy and the Heron, the result feels so viscerally real that any more clarifying approach risks ringing unbelievably false. 

    It’s an emotional honesty that Miyazaki has cultivated for decades, beginning in the trappings of reality before taking fantastic flights. As we follow a character like Spirited Away’s Chihiro into a world of yokai to save her parents, or Mei and Satsuki’s gradual realization of the world belonging to their Totoro neighbors, the immersion into fantasy feels like an incrementally granted permission for our inner children to embrace such freewheeling delights. While these two films in particular encourage audiences to lose themselves to their deepest dreams, the film that best explores the tension between dreams and reality is Miyazaki’s preceding film, The Wind Rises. There, Jiro’s literal flights of fancy are corrupted by translation into reality, and his dreams of flying machines are perverted by the demands of war and conflict. Try as he might to reconcile the two, there’s a disconnect between the world as he imagines it could be and the world as-is–whether it’s in the creation of his aircraft, or the losses he endures along the way. Throughout his films, Miyazaki expertly toes this line between a childlike fantasy and a corrupt, adult reality–attempting to recapture and bottle a natural sense magic and wonder we seem destined to lose as we grow older.

    It’s incredibly fitting that Miyazaki’s magnum opus is the film of his that blurs this line the most–tossing aside pretensions of plot to reckon with the dreams and nightmares that seem to have plagued him for a lifetime. Miyazaki and producer Toshio Suzuki have been candid in interviews (including on this disc) about The Boy and the Heron’s autobiographical qualities, drawing from Miyazaki’s childhood and his relationships with his fellow collaborators Suzuki and recently-departed Isao Takahata to inform the development of Heron’s lead characters. With that in mind, The Boy and the Heron feels haunted by Miyazaki’s past and future, infusing the film’s powerful emotional dream logic with unshakable loss and regret. The film mourns what was as much as what will never be–whether it’s the innocence of childhood, old friends now gone, ideas that never came to pass, and ones that with the diminishing qualities of age will never come to be. Dreams are conventionally accepted as the brain processing its own experiences to delve meaning from experience and instruction on how to regulate and function; in that same vein, The Boy and the Heron feels like a grand creator reflecting upon decades of escape into fantasy, willing his dreams into something to experience to determine if anything meaningful came from it all. 

    The film itself, though, is its resounding answer to this tormented question. Through the burgeoning friendship between Mahito and Lady Himi, Miyazaki discovers a potential for rebirth among grief; and through the tense confrontation between universe-creator Granduncle and Mahito, Miyazaki reluctantly comes to terms with the potentially ill-fated compulsion to pass on his skills to a new generation, much like his own mentorship under Takahata. By exploring the terrifying depths of the unknown, Miyazaki–and his audience–find a comforting emotional closure by embracing such mystery and inevitable change. Effortlessly balancing a true-to-life emotional truth with a complete surrender to dreams and fantasy, The Boy and the Heron celebrates the joys and sorrows of life as Miyazaki has spent his life willing into reality.

    Video/Audio

    GKids and Shout! Studios present The Boy and the Heron in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio, in 4K UHD with HDR10 and Dolby Vision on the 4K Disc, and in a 1080p transfer of the same source material on the Blu-ray. The original Japanese Audio and English dub are both presented in Dolby Atmos and 7.1-Channel DTS-HD Master Audio. A Spanish dub and an English descriptive audio track are included in 5.1-Channel Surround. The film’s English dub is set as default, with SDH “dub-titles” available, but English subtitles directly translating the film’s original Japanese audio are also included. French and Spanish subtitles are also included. Special Features are subtitled in English for non-English audio.

    The Boy and the Heron is the first of hopefully many more Studio Ghibli features on 4K UHD, and this inaugural release sets a lofty bar for others to reach. The expanse of the UHD color palette allows the film’s cel animation to pop with diverse ranges of color, particularly during sequences inside the ruined tower or the film’s destructive conclusion. The rust and aging of various locales is finely rendered, as are wide-scope nature shots–both take on a relaxed, painterly quality while retaining a sharp amount of artistic detail. While the Blu-ray Disc features an exquisite HD version of the same transfer, the UHD disc makes for reference-quality viewing.

    Equally expansive are the film’s Dolby Atmos tracks–viewers are immediately awash in a soundscape of sirens and crackling embers before giving way to Joe Hisaishi’s instantly iconic wistful piano-based score. These vibrant elements never eclipse the film’s dialogue, taking up the film’s center tracks. Both sets of vocal performances are extraordinary, with the Heron’s Masaki Suda and Robert Pattinson clear standouts as two famed heartthrob actors embracing their inner freaky lil’ guys. All of these elements coalesce into an audio presentation that utilizes every available speaker with nuance and grace, preserving the dreamlike immersion of the film.

    Special Features

    All special features are included on the accompanying Blu-ray Disc.

    • Feature-Length Storyboards: A picture-in-picture presentation of the raw storyboards for The Boy and the Heron for the entire feature, providing an interesting look at the evolution of the film’s stunning visuals.
    • Interview with Composer Joe Hisaishi: Miyazaki’s longtime sonic collaborator offers insights on his composition process, the simpler score of the film, and his work with Miyazaki overall.
    • Interview with Producer Toshio Suzuki: Suzuki provides a candid perspective on reuniting Studio Ghibli in the wake of Miyazaki’s earlier retirement, his thoughts on Miyazaki basing the Heron character on him, and the future of traditional hand-drawn animation.
    • Interview with Supervising Animator Takeshi Honda: The Boy and the Heron’s Supervising Animator discusses his previous collaborations with Miyazaki, the challenges in capturing the intricate details of some scenes, and the resonance of the film’s themes.
    • Drawing with Takeshi Honda: The Boy and the Heron’s supervising animator creates brief sketches of the main characters of the film: Mahito & Himi, the Heron, and Kiriko.
    • Spinning Globe Music Video: an entertaining music video for Kenshi Yonezu’s passionate ballad for the film, set to clips from the film.
    • Teasers & Trailers for The Boy and the Heron’s domestic and international releases.
    • Booklet featuring a poetic introduction to the film, Miyazaki’s original production proposal from July 2016, and assorted stills from the film.
    • Poster for the film, featuring Mahito’s first confrontation with the Heron.

    The Boy and the Heron is now available on 4K UHD/Blu-ray Steelbook, 4K UHD/Blu-ray Combo Pack, and Blu-ray/DVD Combo Pack from Shout! Studios.

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