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Arrow Heads: Amnesiac Spy Adventure THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT Comes to 4K
Geena Davis and Samuel L. Jackson headline an explosive collector’s edition
Review disc provided by Arrow Video, images captured by the reviewer and subject to copyright The Long Kiss Goodnight comes at the tail end of screenwriter Shane Black’s (Lethal Weapon) blistering late-’80s to early-’90s run of action thriller projects, the script for which netted him a then-record $4 million payday. The film, about a schoolteacher with amnesia who discovers she’s a CIA wetwork operative, and directed by Renny Harlin (Die Hard 2, Cliffhanger) opened in 1996 to decent reviews but a disappointing box office compared to its meaty $65 million budget. Since then, it’s become a cult favorite for fans of Black, Harlin, and stars Gena Davis and Samuel L. Jackson, getting folded into the Christmas Action Canon alongside the likes of Lethal Weapon and Die Hard. Now, boutique label Arrow Video has rolled out the red carpet with an extravagant 4K set that’s both packed with extras and boasting a new restoration for action fans to sink their teeth into.
Samantha Caine (Geena Davis) doesn’t know who she was before she washed up pregnant and sporting a head injury eight years ago, but has made a life for herself, her daughter Caitlin (Yvonne Zima), and her boyfriend Hal (Tom Amandes) until she’s in a freak accident. Not only do memories of her previous life as elite assassin Charly Baltimore begin to resurface, but so do long-evaded enemies who have a score to settle with her alter-ego. It’s a good thing she retained the services of P.I. Mitch Henessey, because this is definitely sort of situation where you want Samuel L. Jackson watching your back.
The film certainly bears influences from the works of Tom Clancy or Robert Ludlum’s Jason Bourne, but goosed with Black’s signature snappy self-aware dialogue and knack for escalating set pieces with Swiss watch setup and payoff gags. The movie bounces from location and subplot with surprisingly deft pacing given how much ground it has to cover in 120 minutes, and is always introducing a new red herring or explosive ambush so it doesn’t feel like an endless sequence of Davis and Jackson bantering as they drive to the next exposition dump.
Not that just hanging with Samantha and Mitch would have been a bad way to spend the two hours – Davis and Jackson have great chemistry, both as Samantha is first beginning to unravel her past and as her POV and personality changes in the process of recovering her memories. Jackson is a fantastic motormouth rogue, but as a character increasingly realizing he’s the person out of his depth rather than his partner, he emerges as the unlikely conscience of the film. You can draw an almost straight line from Mitch to “knights in tarnished armor” like Holland Marsh from Black’s neo-noir masterpiece The Nice Guys, but this film also gives Jackson plenty of opportunity to shine in the gonzo action sequences.
I don’t rate Harlin as highly as an action director as his contemporaries like Cameron, McTiernan, or de Bont, but he’s got a solid meat-and-potatoes functionality in executing Black’s escalation on the page, albeit an execution that seems to always be set at “11.” From the opening attack on Samantha’s kitchen by a one-eyed assassin wielding a shotgun that blows holes through walls large enough to toss a child through to a finale on the US/Canadian border that set a record for largest explosion filmed at the time, Harlin seems incapable of not indulging in maximalism. The rock-solid template that Black’s script provides, however, keeps the narrative grounded in action and character enough that it never tips over into being a cartoon like some of Harlin’s other films.
This balance is helped not only by the cast keying into the proper tone, but by Alan Silvestri’s “subtext does not exist in this dojo” score. Silvestri is no stranger to big bombastic action scores, but also plays with both the mysterious and the festive in his motifs to both enhance the Christmas setting and underline Samantha’s unease at who she thinks she can trust. He even sprinkles in some upbeat jazzy “sitcom” riffs to lay under the more domestic scenes so that various rug-pulls are even more effective. Davis plays the evolution of Samantha/Charly with a delightful “aw, shucks” energy that careens headlong into one-liner spitting murder machine, employing a deftness that softens some of the clumsiness Black can have writing female characters.
She also did an incredible amount of her own work for the film, and it’s as mesmerizing to watching her dice food like a veteran chef as it is to see her sniping fools with a high-powered rifle. The Long Kiss Goodnight gives her plenty of chances to flex her skills with blade, rifle, and other accoutrements as she blasts her way though the conspiracy. The false flag disaster she has to prevent is scarily prophetic by accident, but apart from that is an agreeably goofy excuse to have character actors like Brian Cox, Patrick Malahide, and Craig Bierko strut around and dine on the scenery. Bierko in particular gets to be especially sleazy as the golden god with a rotten heart who acts as the main heavy, and the movie works overtime to make the explosive finale as viscerally satisfying as possible.
It’s hard not to yearn for original high-concept blockbusters like this one, even when they’re not quite the five-star bullseye that you’d hope for from those involved. The Long Kiss Goodnight may have started as an intellectual exercise of Black wondering “well, wouldn’t it be more interesting if the main character of a spy movie were a woman?” but the resulting film captures a certain energy that we don’t much see anymore. The Christmas trappings wind up being more symbolically and mechanically important to the film than one-off references like Last Action Hero or Iron Man Three, and the movie is endearingly eager to show you a good time.
The proposed sequel may never have materialized and it may have taken a while for it TLKG to find its people, but as a self-contained roller coaster of explosive holiday hi-jinks it’s a singular delight for fans of old-school action.
Presentation:
Arrow Video has made something of a name for themselves with these boutique releases featuring sumptuous 4K transfers, and this further cements the reputation. This new 4K restoration comes from the original 35mm negative and was overseen by director Renny Harlin, and is presented in UHD Dolby vision. This release sees none of the artifacting that impacted the previous Blu-ray release, maintaining the high-gloss color palette of Guillermo Navarro’s cinematography without it becoming oversaturated. Blacks and shadows are appreciably deep with grain being present but not overpowering (although especially apparent in the impressionistic dream sequences).
This release is particularly good at highlighting the fine details of the film’s production design, both in details from long and medium shots and skin, clothing & weapon textures in closeups. The film is presented in its original 2:39:1 theatrical aspect ratio.
The soundtrack comes in both a DTS HD 5.1 surround mix and stereo 2.0 with Dolby Atmos options. This mix is similarly punchy to the previous Blu-ray release, but with far more detail in the position of sound effects depending on whether you’re using surround vs. stereo. Effects and music find an agreeable balance without ever overpowering dialogue, which remains clear throughout.
Bonus Content:
This is another area where Arrow has made a name for themselves, in bringing back the “lots of special features” ethos of the ’00s-era DVD golden age. The Long Kiss Goodnight not only has lavish packaging with new writing on the film, but the discs are stuffed with features new and old, including two brand-new audio commentaries.
The Set
- Limited edition packaging with reversible sleeve, featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Sam Hadley
- Illustrated collector’s booklet featuring new writing on the film by Clem Bastow, Richard Kadrey, Maura McHugh, and Priscilla Page
- Seasonal postcard
- “Thin Ice” sticker
Disc 1 (4K UHD):
Theatrical cut of the film (120 minutes)
- Brand new audio commentary by film critic Walter Chaw
- Brand new audio commentary by film critics Drusilla Adeline and Joshua Conkel of the Bloodhaus Podcast
- Optional English subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing
- Theatrical Trailer
- Image gallery
Disc 2 (Blu-ray):
- Symphony of Destruction – new interview with stunt co-ordinator Steve Davidson
- Long Live the New Flesh – new interview with make-up artist Gordon J. Smith
- Girl Interrupted – new interview with actress Yvonne Zima
- Amnesia Chick – new visual essay by film scholar Josh Nelson
- The Mirror Crack’d – new visual essay by critic and filmmaker Howard S. Berger
- A Woman’s World – new visual essay by film scholar Alexandra Heller-Nicholas
- Deleted Scenes
- Archive promotional interviews with director Renny Harlin and stars Geena Davis, Samuel L. Jackson, and Craig Bierko
- Making Of – archival promotional featurette
- Behind the Scenes – archival EPK footage from the filming of The Long Kiss Goodnight
The Long Kiss Goodnight is now available on 4K UHD from Arrow Video.
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SOME LIKE IT HOT – Billy Wilder’s Legendary Comedy Hits Criterion 4K
The Hays Code-cracking rom-com gets an upgrade
The first time I saw Some Like it Hot was more than a quarter-century ago in a high school Film & Literature class, and I promptly fell in love. I had just enough familiarity with mob films and screwball comedies to key into its influences, and the story of two down-on-their luck musicians on the run from the mafia immediately became my favorite romantic comedy. Over the years, it’s been one of those rare favorites that only appreciates as you learn more about the history of cinema and gain a deeper understanding of the film, its nested gags and pop culture jokes of the day, and its impact on the industry.
Joe (Tony Curtis) and Jerry (Jack Lemon), two jazz musicians who are down-on-their-luck even before they accidentally witness a murder by Chicago mob boss “Spats” Columbo (George Raft), think they’ve caught a lucky break when they disguise themselves and sneak into an all-girls band to play down in Florida. What they don’t know, however, is that they’re in a Billy Wilder movie where the legendary writer/director is in full Shakespeare “Comedy of Errors” mode, and he’s about to make their lives a hilarious living hell. Some Like It Hot may be infamous for being a massive success in spite of not being certified by the Hays Code, but it’s the deft construction of the film and lighting-fast delivery of both one-off and deliberately set-up gags and uproarious scenarios that make it an enduring classic.
Joe (aka Josephine) and Jerry (aka Daphne – she didn’t like “Geraldine”) are swept off their feet as much as the audience by Marilyn Monroe’s Sugar Kane, the ukulele-playing singer for Sweet Sue and her Society of Syncopators. Both fugitives begin to bond with the girls, but Joe falls hard for Sugar and poses as a heartsick millionaire to try to seduce her, even as Jerry/Daphne catches the eye of actual millionaire Osgood Fielding III (Joe E. Brown). What follows is a constantly shuffling upstairs/downstairs slamming door farce of mishaps and romance as one lie spins out into countless more. The movie not only makes brilliant use of Curtis and Lemon’s crackling chemistry, but lets Monroe play both the bubbly airhead and the broken-hearted melancholy of a girl who only knows how to sing and run away, investing the audience that much more in everyone catching up to their happy ending.
The film may have only been shot in black and white because of how clownish Curtis and Lemon looked in their color makeup tests, but the style beautifully compliments the streak of noir crime film that threads through the period setting. Wilder gets to contrast the cold dark nights of 1929 Chicago with the bright and bustling beachfront of Florida, and the stylized visuals compliment the arch and winking script. Mob bosses all have silly nicknames and props to go with them and the primary lawman trying to get another crack at arresting Spats is Officer Mulligan. The film doesn’t quite go into full-on meta territory, but in addition to the exaggerated genre touches it throws in plenty of jokes about the Dodgers leaving Brooklyn or the stock market crashing (okay, that one’s less funny now).
For being over two hours, the film’s constantly escalating script and genuine romantic chemistry keep it rocketing along, but Wilder’s skill at composing an image for either intimacy or comedy can’t be overstated. There are moments where things get as crowded and busy as A Night At the Opera‘s infamous cabin scene, and off-stage/onstage chase scenes that feel like a direct influence on Scooby-Doo, and that’s not even going into the musical numbers that fluctuate between sultry and sprightly (I don’t know if Curtis and Lemon could actually play, but they sure fake it well). It’s an endlessly easy watch, balancing an ever-increasing number of plates so that once the Spats shows up for a literal Mob Convention in Act 3, the audience is leaning forward steepling their fingers instead of throwing their hands in the air at the happenstance.
Through all this buffoonery, you’d think it would be easy for the film to lose sight of empathy for its own characters at the expense of making another joke at their expense, but Billy Wilder is simply too good for that. The constant running around and changing outfits and settings not only lets the cast indulge in physical comedy and rapid-fire wordplay, but also lets Joe/Josephine and Jerry/Daphne see the fallout of their actions as the film builds several of these stereotypes into fleshed-out characters. For all that Wilder feels like he’s only keeping what’s absolutely necessary, I wouldn’t have minded spending even more time with Sue and Bienstock and the Syncopators.
It’s easy to see how critics at the time dismissed it as not much more than breezy and fun, and Sam Wasson’s Criterion essay on the film even calls Wilder “America’s id,” wanting only to show audiences a good time. Wasson even points out that the legendary final line of the movie was a placeholder all the way up until it was shot and only pleased the filmmakers once they saw the reaction it received. However, the years since have proven it to be both the light romp it was brushed off as, but also one which carries meaning for unaccounted audiences whether Wilder was thinking of them or not.
It’s also worth noting that juggling this many plates and making it look easy is no mean feat, and repeat viewings have only made me appreciate its construction all the more. I wasn’t being hyperbolic when I invoked the Bard, because the movie genuinely feels like a modern master taking inspiration from the likes of “Much Ado About Nothing” and making it his own, much the same way Shakespeare did with Pyramus and Thisbe. The film’s nonchalance with taboo subjects of the time like cross-dressing and same-sex relationships may have been mined for laughs, but – accidentally or not – makes for a story that’s aged shockingly well.
For those who’ve not had the pleasure, this is the perfect chance to fill in a cinematic blind spot. I don’t invoke Much Ado lightly, but the “oh no, everyone’s hot and horny” Kenneth Branagh 1993 adaptation would make a killer double with Some Like It Hot. It’s yet another example of how “classic cinema” shouldn’t be treated as Homework – movies like this become a “classic” because they’re just a goddamn blast to watch.
Presentation
Criterion created their 4K restoration from the film’s original 35mm negatives for the 2018 Blu-ray release, and here that transfer is presented in Dolby Vision HDR. The higher definition and richer contrast accentuates both the film noir lighting that Wilder used for scenes like the garage shootout and car chase in Chicago while sunlight Florida is radiant without being blown out. Costuming textures, hair, and the smokey interiors really benefit from the higher resolution, and Wilder’s deep focus shots are well-served by the transfer.
The film’s original mono track was also remastered from the 35mm magnetic tracks, which is presented uncompressed here, and there’s also a 5.1 surround DTS HD track (only on the 4K disc). The dialogue is sharp without sounding tinny, even in the original mono, and comes through most during the musical sequences with the occasional explosion of gunfire.
Some Like It Hot is presented in its original 1:85:1 aspect ratio on both the 4K UHD and Blu-ray discs.
Bonus Content:
The bonus features here are identical to the 2018 Criterion Blu-ray release, and all except the audio commentary accompanying the feature on on the 2nd Blu-ray disc. It’s nothing wildly original, but it’s comprehensive as we’ve seen from this film.
Kino Lorber Studio Classics previously released the film to 4K UHD, also as a Blu-ray combo with a respectable alternate – and slightly lesser – set of bonus features. There’s some overlap, and both editions have some material not present on the other, but ultimately the Criterion version brings more to the table.
Disc 1 (4K UHD)
Theatrical Cut of the film (121 minutes)
- 4k digital restoration presented in Dolby Vision HDR, with uncompressed monaural soundtrack
- Alternate 5.1 surround DTS HD Master audio soundtrack
- Audio Commentary from 1989 with film scholar Howard Schuber
Disc 2 (HD Blu-ray)
Theatrical Cut of the film (121 minutes)
- 4k digital restoration presented in 1080p HD with uncompressed monaural soundtrack
- Audio Commentary from 1989 with film scholar Howard Schuber
- Program on Orry-Kelly’s costumes for the film, featuring costume designer and historian Deborah Nadoolman Landis and costume historian and archivist Larry McQueen
- Three behind-the-scenes documentaries
- The Making of Some Like It Hot
- The Legacy of Some Like it Hot
- Memories from the Sweet Sues
- Appearances by director Billy Wilder on The Dick Cavett Show from 1982
- Conversation from 2001 between actor Tony Curtis and film critic Leonard Maltin
- French television interview from 1988 with actor Jack Lemmon
- Radio interview from 1955 with actor Marilyn Monroe
- Theatrical Trailer
Essay by author Sam Wasson (insert in packaging)
Some Like It Hot is now available on both 4K UHD and HD Blu-ray from Criterion.
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Reb00t: PIRANHA 3D
PIRANHA 3D takes the PIRANHA formula and adds more blood, more boobs, and more dick jokes.
Piranha 3D amps up the concept of “killer fish during spring break”, adding gallons of gore, plentiful nudity, and some of the dumbest humor 2010 had to offer. (Mostly) not a compliment.
Welcome to Reb00t! A series (with no set schedule!) where I dig deep through the 2000’s to find all the horror remakes that we were inundated with over that weirdly bleak decade. Sometimes they’ll be good, sometimes they’ll be terrible, sometimes they’ll be great. In a few, rare times, they’ll be better than the original! These are all my personal views, obviously, so feel free to tell me I’m insane in the comments.
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This week, we dive into 2010’s Piranha 3D!
Listen, guys; it’s not going to be “diamonds in the rough” every week. While this one is divisive, to say the least, I can’t help but have a bit of a soft spot for it.
Piranha is arguably one of the better films of the mid-era Corman productions. Coming from one of his shining stars, Joe Dante, 1978’s Piranha is just the right level of goofy and violent that Dante became known for in his career. Sure, it’s a bit hokey, and time has done it no favors (except the claymation walking piranha; that thing is still rad as hell), but it’s still a lot of fun nearly 50 years later.
Now, in 2010, a new question popped into producers’ heads; what if we do Piranha again, but this time with a lot more nudity, insane levels of violence, and just some of the dumbest dick jokes you’ve ever seen? And with that, Piranha 3D was born!
Relocating to a desert oasis known for its Spring Break festivities, we follow the local sheriff (Elisabeth Shue; Adventures In Babysitting, Leaving Las Vegas) as she tries to get to the bottom of the bodies showing up on her lake. Surprise; it’s piranhas! Now, she needs to find a way to close the lake right at the peak of the spring break revelry, while also saving her kids from a watery death. Can she save everyone? Nope!
Piranha 3D has a surprisingly stacked cast, for a cheapie remake. Showing up on the roster is Ving Rhames, Jerry O’Connell, Christopher Lloyd, Paul Sheer, a baby-faced Adam Scott, and Richard Dreyfuss in one of the ultimate “why did you agree to this?” cameos I’ve ever seen. It adds a level of clout that a lot of the ‘00 remakes didn’t really have, most of them collecting their casts from the CW. I can’t say it made it better than other remakes, but it definitely made for a bunch of “huh, he’s in this?” moments.
Now, Piranha 3D is very much a product of its time. It squarely lives in the “beer commercial” era of female representation, with most of the onscreen ladies either undressing or already naked. It’s honestly kind of a culture shock, watching this again in 2025. It doesn’t help that the humor here is just real fucking dumb. Mostly made up of dick and sex jokes, this thing is surprisingly sophomoric across the board. Not really surprising, coming from Alexandre Aja, who, while arguably making some pretty fantastic mean-spirited violence in his career, has a very, uh, “French” way about him when it comes to comedy and sex.
But, let’s be honest; if you’re watching this, you’re probably here for the still insane lake massacre scene. Probably the reason Aja was hired, the lake massacre is still kinda jaw dropping in its Grand Guignol levels of gore and splatter. Mixing practical and digital (but mostly practical!), the complete and utter carnage the piranhas cause is legendary; full skeletonizations, scalpings, disembowelment, people getting cut in half with wires, eaten alive through the anus! There is just insane levels of gnarly violence, leaving the lake looking more like Normandy Beach. It is truly a spectacle of on-screen brutality, and one of the best sequences of Aja’s career.
Listen; this isn’t great. It is just barely hovering above good. There are a fair amount of you who would find this tacky, and a good amount of you who’d’ find this out and out offensive. But, if you want to take a dive into this goopy, goofy aquatic killer remake, do it how I did back when I saw this the summer before my freshman year of college; on a buddies couch, stoned out of your gourd, giggling at the stupidity of it all, and wondering what you want to snack on.
Side Note: The original idea was to do a double feature article with Piranha 3DD. But, guys; don’t watch 3DD. Learn from me. There are American Pie VOD sequels that are less sophomoric than 3DD.
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Blue Sunshine: The Ultimate Drug Freakout Film, Now On 4k From Synapse Films!
Jeff Lieberman’s ultimate LSD scare film is now on 4k in a beautiful 3 disc release from Synapse Films
The drug freak out film; a weirdly time honored tradition in cinema. First appearing as strict (im)morality tales in films like Reefer Madness and Assassination Of Youth in the 1930’s, the genre exploded in the ‘70s as a generation started their collective hangover from the free loving and drug use of the ‘60s. Most concerned themselves with Hippies gone mad, either from a bad batch of acid (see; I Drink Your Blood), or from just being crazy hippies (see; the entire film genre that popped up after the Manson Murders).
Few, though, dealt with the lingering effects that seemed to follow those who went the straight and narrow as they aged out of the movement. In real life, it resulted in embarrassing truths being revealed decades later, such as STDs, lingering addictions, and abandoned children. In Blue Sunshine, it results in baldness and homicidal rage. One of the best of the drug freakout films, Blue Sunshine has been released on 4k by Synapse Films!
Taking place a decade after the hippy movement, Blue Sunshine follows Jerry Zipkin (Zalman King; Trip With Teacher, Galaxy Of Terror) who, after witnessing an old friend go on a homicidal rampage after having his baldness revealed, is blamed for the death of his friends. Confused and running for his life, Jerry tries to find some sort of connector between his murderous friend, and the rash of killings that are occurring throughout LA with the same modus operandi.
What he finds is that a strain of LSD, named Blue Sunshine, has had some sort of latent effect where, 10 years later, those that took it lose all their hair and go insane. The deeper he digs, the more powerful people he finds connected to it, and soon he finds both his life, and those he cares about, in danger, too.
Blue Sunshine is a rarity when it comes to films like this. The drug films of the ‘30s and ‘40s (and then again in the ‘80s and ‘90s) were just pure fear mongering propaganda, designed to scare kids away from drug usage. Even the majority of the drug freakout films of the ‘70s followed the same basic model, with drugs + hippies (sometimes bikers) being the new devilish duo, ready to kill an entire town on a hallucinatory violence binge.
Blue Sunshine, while still dealing with drug violence, doesn’t demonize its users. Here, they are people who’ve gone on to do things with their lives; police officers, doctors, politicians. Important figures in society, rather than the dredges. It doesn’t matter, though; They started a tab with LSD, and it is here to collect. It doesn’t matter that these people have moved past their “Summer Of Love” phase, and just want to live their lives, the sins of the past can not be washed away.
And, in some sort of weird way, it kinda makes this one of the most Boomer films of all time? Specifically in that very specific snapshot of the generation at the end of the ‘70s. By 1977, they are embarrassed about their youth, and just want to become “normal”, viewing their freewheeling days as abhorrent, something that has the capacity to come back and destroy their lives, and will do whatever they can to get away from it. Reagan’s landslide victories in ‘80 and ‘84 make perfect sense after watching this.
Specs:
Blue Sunshine has never looked better, presented on pristine 4k. Even though it is a film with a muted color base, it still looks immaculate; be it us watching Jerry bake in the Southern California sun, wondering if he’s going insane, or in the bright hues of a crackling fireplace filled with bodies, or the chaotic kaleidoscope colors of the climatic disco as Wayne goes on a murderous rampage.
Once you’re done watching Blue Sunshine, you’re only scratching the surface! Synapse’s release also includes director Jeff Lieberman’s first film, The Ringer, remastered in 4k, as well as two additional LSD “scare films”; LSD-25 (1967), and LSD: Insight or Insanity (1968). There are also a bevy of interviews with Jeff Lieberman, audio commentaries, and theatrical trailers.
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Blue Sunshine is a trip, man! Just one that no one ever survives. For fans of both horror and ‘70s nihilism alike! Check out Synapse’s release of Blue Sunshine on April 15th!
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Hitting Repeat on THE BALLAD OF WALLIS ISLAND
“Your music changed everything.”
Those who don’t know me also don’t know my intense love of the Spice Girls, the British female group that virtually dominated the late 90s. As a fan for nearly 30 years, I’ve seen them through every music video, interview, tour, and album (both solo and group). My introduction to them coincided with some monumental life-altering events during my formative years, allowing them to be a form of escape for me when I needed them most. Needless to say, my fandom made me ripe for bullying in high school. It’s as pointless to hold resentment towards my tormentors now as it was then since those who laughed at my love of the group just didn’t understand; and quite frankly, they didn’t need to. My love for them as artists was tied to a synchronicity and an aligning of energy that was unique and strong enough to endure. While it’s impossible to truly get what draws a fan to music beyond what I just described, The Ballad of Wallis Island comes closer than any film ever has with it’s well-drawn characters, potent humor, and soulful sensibilities.
In The Ballad of Wallis Island, musician Herb (Tom Basden) has traveled to the titular remote seaside village to play a small gig and collect a payday, which he desperately needs with the upcoming release of his newest album. Upon his arrival, he is introduced to Charles (Tim Key), the host and organizer of the event. It’s quickly revealed to a stunned Herb that Charles has funded the entire gig for himself as the only attendee. What’s more, Herb’s former musical (and romantic) partner Nell (Carey Mulligan) has also been hired to perform, stirring up memories of the past and changing the lives of everyone involved.
The Ballad of Wallis Island is a film of two sides. The first is a tale of artists reckoning with their creative and personal pasts. It’s a notion we know plays out in real life. Many times we hear of artists disappearing from the spotlight to retreat and hopefully find themselves again. But so rarely do we see an (admittedly heightened) illustration of finding that creative spark that some artists feel was gone forever. Herb is the perfect vessel for this as someone who is still making music but hasn’t been in love with it for quite some time. We get the feeling that Herb’s desire to keep making music as a solo artist stems from both the need to continuously prove himself and the general fear of losing momentum, not fully realizing that he lost it long ago. To see an almost totally disenchanted artist who has spent years clinging to the art despite falling out of love with it is heartbreaking and certainly makes Herb a tragic character, especially given the fact that Nell hasn’t suffered the same fate, choosing instead to simply walk away. Seeing Herb’s creative drive slowly come back the from artistic doldrums as a result of Charles private gig and his reunion with Nell is the kind of character journey that’s so invigorating to watch.
On the flip side, The Ballad of Wallis Island is a testament to a fan’s devotion to the music, the power it holds for them, and the undying love they have for those artists who have created something that, for a whole host of reasons, have resonated in a truly long-lasting way. The film’s plot boasts some unusual circumstances, to say the least. I for one couldn’t scrape enough pennies to wrangle one Spice Girl over for a brunchtime concert, let alone all five. But far-fetched circumstances aside, the film’s screenplay still speaks to what artists give their fans without realizing it. The inspiration to move their lives forward, the motivation to cope with turbulent times, and the will to exist despite the various hurdles that life throws everyone, are all tools that Charles got from Herb and Nell. Without delving into the sentimental, the film does a superb job of exploring the meaningful quality of the artist/fan relationship. Eventually it’s revealed that Herb and Nell were Charles’ wife’s favorite group. Now deceased, they’ve become his favorite group as well and have helped keep the memory of his late wife alive and strong.
The performances in The Ballad of Wallis Island are as equally responsible for its charm and heart as the script and filmmaking. Basden gives great life to Herb. The actor displays the character’s decidedly rough edges brilliantly before finding his humanity all while giving everything required of a classic straight man. His scenes with Mulligan are filled with such richness thanks to the chemistry between the two and the actress’ ability to balance the ethereal qualities of her character with a realness that makes her someone very much worth exploring. It’s Key who is the film’s biggest asset, however. As the orchestrator of events, the actor makes Charles an instantly lovable human being; a teddy bear who comes complete with a groundedness with regards to his past, which the actor lays out beautifully.
The Ballad of Wallis Island is a rarity in this day and age; an original piece of work which builds a world that seems like it was made solely for our characters to exist in. In a way, it feels as if the film itself was made solely for us to experience and take in. This is no easy feat. To create a piece of art that speaks to a certain kind of individual who hones in on the work itself and feels instantly simpatico with the one(s) who made it is the best thing anyone could hope for. It’s probably for this reason that I desperately wish we could have had more time with the main three characters and their various pasts; to delve deeper into what made each one so endearingly and uniquely them. But what we have here works tremendously. As near perfect as films get, The Ballad of Wallis Island is a beautiful and earnest tale about the powerful connection to music and art itself.
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THE THREE MUSKETEERS: D’ARTAGNAN & MILADY – A Titanic Two-Part Adaptation [Two Cents]
![THE THREE MUSKETEERS: D’ARTAGNAN & MILADY – A Titanic Two-Part Adaptation [Two Cents]](https://i0.wp.com/cinapse.co/wp-content/uploads/2025/03/Three-Musketeers-D-1.jpg?resize=1140%2C641&ssl=1)
All for one, and one for all!
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 cinapse.twocents@gmail.com.
The Pick: The Three Musketeers: D’Artagnan & Milady (2023)
THE THREE MUSKETEERS – PART I: D’ARTAGNAN It takes some real doing to craft “the definitive version” of a story that’s seen so many notable big screen adaptations. From the 1940’s version with Gene Kelly, Lana Turner and Vincent Price to the legendary two-part adaptation in the 1970s to the 1990’s version that introduced so many youngsters to Tim Curry, it just keeps coming around. Even Paul W.S. Anderson took a crack with a pre-Hannibal Mads Mikkelsen – and that’s not even going into TV town. However, this latest version from Pathe, director Martin Bourbolon, and screenwriters Mathieu Delaporte & Alexander de la Patellière manages to take the swashbuckling swagger of the source material and the heavily physical action of modern action films like John Wick for a concoction all its own while streamlining the sprawling epic without losing its scope.
THE THREE MUSKETEERS PART I: D’ARTAGNAN The Team
Spencer Brickey
Going into these films, my knowledge of the Three Musketeers went as far as knowing there were 3 of them, and that it sounded funny when you called them “Mouseketeers”. Lo and behold, after about 15 minutes of Part 1: D’Artagnan, I found myself totally enraptured by this story of swashbuckling Frenchmen with fun hats.
Existing as a sorta Star Trek ‘09 introductory film, we meet D’Artagnan as he makes his way into Paris, looking to become a Musketeer. A man who trouble seems to follow, D’Artagnan finds himself challenging 3 separate men to duels within the first few minutes of arriving. He soon realizes that he has found himself both in the middle of the famed 3 Musketeers, but also a national conspiracy that threatens to drop the country into civil war.
Part 1 doesn’t waste any time over explaining itself or what’s going on, instead it is all gas, no breaks for two hours, as we bounce from action set piece to conspiracy plotting to romancing and back to action set pieces. One could even argue it is a bit overstuffed as the film is broken more into several different mini-acts, rather than the classic 3, as we watch the Musketeers go from adventure to adventure, sometimes as the whole team, and then other times broken off into pairs to bounce off of each other.
This energy is felt most in the fight sequences, which are genuinely fantastic. Full of kinetic action, as the camera moves between different fighters, their blades clashing, and the Musketeers routinely showing off why they are the best of the best. French action has always been a dark horse contender for some of the best screen combat (see; Luc Besson, Louise Leterrier, Pierre Morel), and it’s nice to see it on display here.
By film’s end, we’ve seen the conspiracy against the King hit a fever pitch, as the Musketeers must fend off an assassination attempt against over a dozen men, bouncing between swords, guns and hand to hand combat. In its final moments, we finally see D’Artagnan become a full Musketeer, and it seems like we’ve only just scratched the surface of these boys going to work.
Which is why it is such a huge let down that Part 2: Milady doesn’t ever really capitalize on this. Once again, we follow the Musketeers as they try to foil the plot against the King’s head, and stop all out war. Instead of following what seemed like the establishment of the 4 Musketeers, as the last film had laid out, we instead watch the 4 of them split up for the entire runtime. Sometimes paired up, sometimes just 3, but very rarely all 4, with at least one of them sidelined by some sort of side quest or ailment.
While the action is still pretty great here, and probably contains my favorite sequence across the two films (that Musketeer castle siege is top notch), a lot of the swashbuckling has been replaced with scheming and backstabbing. Where Part 1 was all about the adventures, Part 2 hems closer to a political thriller, without the teeth or mystique needed to bring it all together.
A lot could be salvaged, though, if the ending really ramped it up. Sadly, this one is closer to a whimper than a bang. After building us towards both a French Civil War and a battle with Britain, the final reel is dedicated to D’Artagnan finding his beloved, a journey that quickly goes from romantic to a kinda tedious scavenger hunt, as he goes from person to person, finding another clue about her whereabouts. Once he’s finally discovered where she is, we follow 3 of the Musketeers (real weird to straight up bench one of your leads for the climax) as they unknowingly face a ticking clock.
Don’t want to give it away, and unsure if this follows a specific book, but I can’t help but to feel like Part 2 gets lost in the woods a bit. After such an explosive ending to Part 1, and promises of a full scale conflict, I can’t help but feel let down that what felt like a B plot is suddenly our climax. Even more frustrating is having the main plot, the assassination attempt and the shadowy orchestrator, wrapped up in like 30 seconds at the very end there. I mean, yeah, it’s a French film, so of course they are going to focus on the romance of it all, but at least give the thoroughline plot a proper send off, please.
While I was lukewarm on Part 2, I can definitely say I had fun with these as a whole. There’s some great action, good comedy gags, and a lot of charm up on screen. There really isn’t a weak link in the cast, with Cassel and Green being the stand outs (I also have to confess I spent a good chunk of the first hour of Part 1 try to figure out how I knew the D’Artagnan actor, before realizing he was the French spelunker in As Above, So Below). For 4 hours of my time, these watches went by quickly, and in the end, it was a pretty fun time overall.
THE THREE MUSKETEERS PART I: D’ARTAGNAN Brendan Agnew
I could think of few better ways to bring our Swashbuckler Month to a close than with a brand-spanking new take on one of the definitive works of the genre. Having grown up with the 1993 film on regular rotation, I was in the bag for this from the moment the first trailer for the first film dropped, and delighted in watching what played out differently vs. the same as previous, ahem, stabs at the material. Part I (D’Artagnan) hews to a lot of the same beats as Richard Lester’s The Three Musketeers as it follows the titular youth from his country home to a Paris crawling with court intrigue, duels, and deadly infidelity as he attempts to become a Musketeer in his father’s footsteps. Francois Civil finds a deft balance between occasionally clueless outsider and fearless romantic without tipping over into clownish buffoon. The entire cast crackles appreciatively (Vincent Cassell is particularly inspired as Athos, given the slight changes they make to his character), but the biggest draw here is Eva Green as the infamous assassin Milady de Winter.
One of the biggest changes these films make is in completely eschewing Comte de Rochefort, the eyepatched agent of the nefarious Cardinal Richelieu played so ably by Mikkelsen, Michael Wincott, and Christopher Lee. Instead, Milady is the primary physical antagonist for D’Artagnan and his comrades on the ground as the Cardinal moves the chess pieces in the shadows. The first film bounces between an attempt to clear Aramis’ name of murder while also foiling a plot to expose the Queen of France’s affair with the Duke of Buckingham, climaxing in an explosive assassination attempt in a crowded church.
Part II (Milady) opens with D’Artagnan – now officially a Musketeer – attempting to rescue his beloved Constance after she’s kidnapped by de Winter, while Athos, Porthos, and Aramis are sent to war against the Protestant stronghold La Rochelle by King Louis XIII. There are daring chases and escapes, unexpected alliances, and more assassination attempts as Milady and Richelieu attempt to drive a wedge between the King and his personal guards, culminating in tragic last-minute rescue attempts and furious duels in burning buildings. The film shuffles several character meetings and reveals around so that they play like twists for those unfamiliar while letting those well-versed in the story feel the tension of being unable to stop a car crash they know is coming. As a whole tale, it delivers on both the crunchy action and bittersweet romanticism of the source material in a way that gives it its own confident identity.
If there’s a serious flaw in this two-part epic, it’s that there isn’t a sequel yet. The way the film recontextualizes the character of Milady, and the way she’s so beautifully brought to ferocious life by Green, make her one of the great swashbuckling antagonists of the past couple decades, but it also leaves a huge dangling thread that’s a hell of a gut punch to leave unresolved. Here’s hoping that their success with The Count of Monte Cristo sees Delaporte and de la Patellière return to the Musketeers saga, preferably sooner than “Twenty Years After.”
@blcagnew on Bluesky
THE THREE MUSKETEERS PART I: D’ARTAGNAN Brendan Foley
The story of the three (or so) musketeers is so well-trod at this point that anyone deciding to take another tilt at the tale needs to do some serious thinking about what new there is to say with these characters that makes another go-round worth telling. Paul “not that one” Anderson opted to differentiate his with bullet time and steampunk and that’s how you know that the magic of the movies is still alive and well.
For this double feature, the goal of director Martin Bourboulon and his creative team seems to have been finding a way to combine a ‘gritty’ historical epic with the kinetic energy of modern action cinema. There’s a gristle and weight to the lavish period scenarios here that is missing from the squeaky clean Hollywood retellings, but the action scenes are shot with a jittery (albeit still very clear) sensibility that lends an immediacy and a real danger to the dynamic swordplay.
Really my only knock on the project is that it remains incomplete. Part 2 (Milady) is a massive cooldown in energy after the rollicking fun of Part 1 (D’Artagnan) and because Bourboulon et. al. have opted to keep their options open for future adaptations, there’s no grand cathartic finale to send you out of the movie on a real high. The changes made to the story make it pretty clear what direction the next entry would/will go in, but until we get those next installments, these Three Musketeers movies will have to sit alongside Costner’s Horizon saga as terrific longform cinema left stuck on ellipses.
Then again, the writers chose to make that incredible Count of Monte Cristo adaptation instead last year, so it’s not the ‘worst’ tradeoff of all time.
THE THREE MUSKETEERS PART II: MILADY Ed Travis
Vive la long take action!
This latest incarnation of Alexander Dumas’ The Three Musketeers has been high on my watchlist for a long while, and after catching 2024’s The Count Of Monte-Cristo on the big screen, the urgency to check out this 2023 double bill of swashbuckling French action only increased. While these Musketeer films are directed by Martin Bourboloun, they’re written (slash adapted) by Matthieu Delaporte and Alexandre de La Patellière, who soon after co-wrote and directed Monte-Cristo.
While I think Monte-Cristo was more successful as an overall film, that’s in part because it tells a complete tale. I was shocked to find a cliffhanger at the end of this 2 part, 4 hour epic. That said, word on the street is that further adventures of this series are coming, so I’ll patiently wait.
What really works here in these Musketeers films are a few things: 1) Impressive, complex, long-take action sequences. These movies belong right up there with the other swashbucklers we’ve highlighted this month at Cinapse. Sure, long takes are a bit trendy these days, but they remain impactful if done well, and here they’re stellar, frequent, and bump the films up a notch. 2) My dude Vincent Cassel. I’m just always a fan. Love him here as Athos. 3) Eva Green: While I don’t think I love her the same way some of you creeps do (kidding), she’s spectacular here, even if we all see the twist regarding her coming miles away.
Some elements aren’t quite as strong, like the aforementioned inevitable twist. Or the occasional effortful/manufactured cliffhangers. Or the seeming sidelining of, you know, the other two musketeers: Aramis and Porthos. And lead actor Francois Civil is fine as D’artagnan, but doesn’t quite hold his own against Cassel.
Overall I’m highly interested in the continuing adventures of this particular team and cast’s vision of The Musketeers, and feel my life is just a bit richer for having experienced these top tier big screen, literary adaptations of rip roaring adventure.
And that wraps up our sensational swashbuckling season. We hope that you discovered a couple new favorites alongside getting to revisit some old friends – much appreciation to everyone who contributed, and may we cross swords again soon!
THE THREE MUSKETEERS PART II: MILADY Goodbye to a Great: TWO CENTS Celebrates Gene Hackman
To make the passing of a cinematic legend, we at Cinapse are putting together a titanic selection of some of the late Gene Hackman’s biggest and best performances. From sports dramas to military thrillers to bone-fide classics, here’s a list of what we’re watching
April 7 – The Replacements – (Digital Rental / Purchase / TNT – 1 hour 58 minutes)
April 14 – The Poseidon Adventure – (Prime Video – 1 Hour 57 minutes)
April 21 – Unforgiven – (Paramount + – 2 hours 10 minutes)
April 28 – Crimson Tide – (Digital Rental / Purchase – 1 hour 56 minutes)
May 5 – The Conversation – (Prime Video – 1 hour 53 minutes)
May 12 – Enemy of the State – (Prime Video – 2 hours 12 minutes)
May 19 – The Royal Tenenbaums – (Digital Rental / Purchase – 1 hour 50 minutes)
And We’re Out.
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DreamWorks’ DOG MAN Bounds to Blu-ray
New Canine Classic, or Total Dog’s Breakfast?
Review disc provided by Universal, images captured by the reviewer and subject to copyright There’s something to be said for a complex concept pared down so elegantly that it’s near universally-accessible, but there’s also more than a little merit to playing a totally ludicrous concept both emotionally straight and 100% committed to The Bit. Dog Man, from Captain Underpants creator Dave Pilkey, is “in canon” the creation of two 10-year-old boys who drew a comic with the premise “What if a dog’s head were sewn onto a dog’s body to fight crime?” And if your answer to that question is “What monster would do that, and what horror would arise from such an unholy union?” Well, good news – you’ll really enjoy the blatant Robocop homage in Act 1.
Set in the Ohkay City, these cataclysmic events are set in motion when the dastardly villain Petey the Cat (Pete Davidson) decides to get rid of the police officers constantly foiling his evil plans. When Officer Knight (Peter Hastings) and his sidekick Greg the Dog (also Peter Hastings) are caught in an explosion, the medical staff at the [insert hospital name here] decide that emergency experimental surgery is the only way to save them. Enter Dog Man (Peter Hastings. . . again), a kung-fu kicking crime-solving tennis ball-chasing super cop who’s so good at his job that he makes the chief of police and the mayor look bad.
There’s not a lot of story turns that will surprise adult viewers, but the movie is built to feel incredibly satisfying to younger audiences just becoming familiar with genre conventions. Not only does the movie toss off a few banger Family Guy-style cutaway bits while also building several escalating gags around family action/adventure tropes and cop fiction, but it also stuffs the frame with visual jokes running the gamut from riffing on the source material (like, “What would a couple kids name all the stuff in a Big Important City?”) to scatological humor and a few “one for the adults in the room” that includes the best Die Hard gag I’ve seen in a minute.
The animation also bears notice, in spite of the film’s fairly low budget. The movement and weight of the characters captures the elusive “feel” of 2D animation in a way few animated family movies can, bringing the essence of the books to life similarly to 2016’s The Peanuts Movie with flashes of the “2D elements mixed with 3D animation and tweaked frame rate” that Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse became synonymous with. The character designs – while more complex than the ones in the books – are very simple yet consistently expressive, the film uses its set pieces to punchy effect without having them become overbearing or monotonous, and it’s canny about switching up the dynamics between its ostensibly one-note characters.
Where Dog Man excels is in both taking well-worn fiction and family film tropes (“What if you had to be your own buddy cop?”) and both contrasting their familiarity with outlandish exaggerated surroundings while also building several extended moments around shocking emotional honesty. The story the trailers were selling is mostly wrapped up shortly after the midpoint, but then the film goes back to seemingly one-off gags for incredibly complex wacky set pieces that still exemplify solid structure and paying off of character beats. The voice cast is largely quite sharp (with the one notable exception being Ricky Gervais seemingly trying to mimic Richard Ayoade’s Professor Marmelade from 2022’s The Bad Guys) and the way they can switch between total farce and absolutely serious brings the best kind of classic cartoon comedy energy to what otherwise could have been a very rote adaptation.
Dog Man packs a surprising amount of story and earnestness into a film with such a Looney Tunes premise and tight pacing, and while it’s not as artistically rich or singularly brilliant in its set pieces as something like the Spider-Verse films or Puss in Boots: The Last Wish, it’s rollicking and inventive the whole time. It’s a film that can both be about generation trauma and co-parenting while also reveling in a gag where a building farts (I told you it goes places). It’s precisely the sort of big-hearted screwball yarn that two hyperactive kids would dream up, and over-delivers while wasting none of your time.
Presentation:
Universal has been rock solid on the home video fidelity front for awhile now, and Dog Man keeps their unbroken streak of rock solid DreamWorks Animation releases on the video front. This won’t necessarily be a “demo disc” for cinephiles, but presents the film’s combination of simple “toyetic” character designs, watercolor splashed backgrounds, and textures like fur and shrubbery that contrast some of the more “claymation”-like smoothness of a lot of surfaces.
The film’s varied (and sometimes surprisingly moody) use of color is well captured in HD, with the action and “drawn-on” effects popping off the screen. This isn’t a movie that’s attempting to bowl you over with its visuals like a high-end Pixar or Sony animated joint, but it’s never boring or ugly.
Tom Howe’s (Shaun the Sheep: Farmageddon, The Great British Bake-Off) brassy score gets well-treated on this release as well. The soundscape sits somewhere between Tex Avery to Lupin III, and the jazzy big band mix is heavy when it needs to be while still being crystal clear. This goes for the voice work as well, which hits “big” without frequencies tipping into “shrill.” And when the film needs to sound like a literal skyscraper is stomping around a city, the foley and sound effects work is more than on point.
Bonus Content:
Like most movies being released by major studios these days, I yearn for a full 4K special edition of this, if nothing else than to get an in-depth look at the animation process (which we at least get a taste of here). However, there are more than a couple morsels to be found on Dog Man‘s physical release – and I’m not just saying that because I’m always a sucker for a feature-length audio commentary.
Blu-ray Disc:
Theatrical Cut of the film (89 minutes)
- Feature Commentary with Screenwriter / Director Peter Hastings
- Deleted and Extended Scenes with Introductions by Screenwriter / Director Peter Hastings (bonus scenes accompanied by black-and-white animatics)
- Meet the Pack (behind the scenes during recording sessions with the actors)
- The Making of Dog Man: A Sarah Hatoff Exclusive (“Special Report” on the making of the film)
- How to Draw Flip-O-Rama Style (Head of story Anthony Zierhut demonstrates how to draw characters from the film)
- How to make Doughnuts For Dogs (recipe / demonstration for doggie treat doughnuts)
Dog Man is now available on Blu-ray and Digital from Universal.
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AMADEUS 4K Restores a Long-Lost Theatrical Version
A beautiful 4K UHD transfer brings to life a version of Milos Forman’s film unavailable for over 20 years on disc
Stills courtesy of Warner Brothers – Amadeus 4K UHD Disc In the wake of his suicide attempt–self-suggested “penance” for seemingly causing the death of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart–former court composer Antonio Salieri uses a final confession to open up about his history with the famed musician, and how Salieri’s bitter jealousy of Mozart’s success grew into a personal vendetta against God.
If you’re new to Milos Forman and Peter Schaffer’s 8-Oscar-winning Epic, you can probably tell from the above that Amadeus isn’t a strict biopic of Mozart. It’s far better than that. Forman and Schaffer’s film (based on Schaffer’s play) uses the lives of Mozart and his suggested historical rival, Salieri, to create a biting, decades-spanning treatise on the nature of genius and creating art.
Rivalry tales were already dramatic staples by the time Shaffer’s play premiered–with Mozart and Salieri’s rivalry already the subject of an Alexander Pushkin play in the 1800s. However, Schaffer’s take on Salieri’s bitter yet genteel enmity towards Mozart in Amadeus distilled the tropes to equally enviable refinement–and the film’s elliptical structure, playing into the highs and lows of jealousy and regret, can find its echoes in everything from Hamilton to The Prestige. As Salieri desperately tries to escape Mozart’s innocuous yet creeping shadow, we wonder what defines an artist’s legacy, the influence they had during their life, or how that life informed their art after their death? In Mozart’s clashes with Austria’s royal court and artistic elite, we question who gets to create that legacy–the artist themselves, those who claimed to know them best, or those who commissioned their art? As Mozart drives himself to ruin in the creation of some of history’s most beloved classical pieces, what becomes more important–creating art that nourishes your spirit, or art that literally puts food in your belly? As Salieri descends into madness trying to understand why a young, jovial buffoon so inexplicably gifted like Mozart reaches heights Salieri’s fruitlessly pursued his entire life, we encounter Amadeus’ most terrifying idea: is talent something cultivated or God-given, and if so, does one’s seeming lack of talent inspire the existential dread that God chose someone else for greatness over you?
Any of these subjects have inspired stunning works of art, speaking to our crippling insecurities and nightmares regardless of our individual artistic ability. In Amadeus, they’re timeless themes expertly and viscerally rendered into a singular, compelling story by Forman and his creative team, one whose resonance has been felt across the years leading up to this stellar new 4K UHD release. Films rarely look this good; using many of the story’s actual historical locations, and a fastidious approach to the film’s lavish production design, and lush symphonic renditions of Mozart classics by Sir Neville Marriner (who refused any alterations to the compositions), Amadeus features the epitome of “craft” from all departments above and below the line.
What’s more, such attention to detail only augments how Schaffer’s screenplay gets at an emotional truth of history, the way it brings the past alive with all of our temporally transcendent flaws, perversions, and desires. The film takes no rosy view of anyone and makes history’s smallest characters as important as the names that have lived on in our minds far beyond the decomposition of their owners in a paupers’ grave. Everyone’s motivations, whether noble or villainous, are deeply relatable and human. There’s Mozart’s wife Constanza (Elizabeth Berridge), fiercely protective of Mozart’s genius yet positioning herself as the only person who can take care of Mozart. There’s also those, like King Joseph II or fellow artist Emanuel Schikaneder, who see themselves as Mozart’s most important patrons, oblivious to how much they’re pushing the mortal limitations of this man. Mozart himself lives so wonderfully in the now, turning in beautiful music but seemingly oblivious to the toll his actions are taking on himself. And finally, there’s Salieri–who sees everyone’s motivations and plays them cruelly against each other, striving for a perfection that remains pointedly out of his grasp.
These aren’t characters just pulled from history: their factual inspiration becomes a platform for all-too-familiar emotional archetypes, whose historical relevance makes them ring all the more true. Schaffer and Forman’s skills as dramaturg and director help Amadeus come to an irresistibly tragic climax–with the film’s best sequences, as Salieri directly assists Mozart in his completion of the Requiem Mass–reveals what a partnership and friendship the two could have had if not for the envy that fueled Salieri against him for decades. If God was indeed speaking through Mozart instead of Salieri, it plays even more as a scene of bemused, benevolent absolution, revealing the empty returns of a life fueled by constant imagined malice or persecution.
This UHD transfer of Amadeus has long been in the works, with many fans curious as to how the film would be represented in possibly the final definitive physical media format. The Theatrical Cut of Amadeus has long been unavailable beyond an initial DVD release; the Extended Cut, put together by Forman in 2002, restored over 20 minutes of footage to the film (and was this reviewer’s first experience with Amadeus), yet at the cost of all but removing the Theatrical Cut from wider circulation. This restoration, undertaken by the Academy Film Archive, Teatro Della Pace, and the Saul Zaentz Company under the supervision of Zaentz’s nephew Paul, rectifies the absence of the Oscar-winning Theatrical Cut by restoring it from the original camera negatives for this release.
The efforts have been well worth the wait: this is easily the best Forman’s film has looked in decades, with a visual richness that surpasses the Extended Cut Blu-ray thanks to the more nuanced tones available with HDR10. The many candlelit scenes are vivid and warm, preserving textures like wooden theater scaffolding, the intricate lacing of period dress, and the stray strands of hair of many wigs in varying degrees of light and darkness without reduction in quality. Colder scenes, such as a final storm-swept funeral, are wholesomely mucky, with natural earth tones and water droplets well represented.
The restored DTS-HD 5.1-Channel sound mix, joined here with dubs in French, German, and Italian as well as Stereo Spanish dubs, intensely immerses audiences in the thrumming vitality of Marriner’s arrangements and the lyrical cattiness of Schaffer’s dialogue. Other background noise–the creaks of actors’ footsteps on stageboards, the mucky crunch of passersby in snowy streets–are also well layered among these aural focal points.
In a strange case of history rhyming once again, it is the only cut of Amadeus included on disc for this release. While the longer Extended Cut is present as an extra on the included digital copy, it’s sadly missing from the UHD format. While I am happy that I’m able to see Amadeus in such high quality and in a cut I’ve never seen before, I don’t agree with the idea of trading one act of historical revisionism for another. There’s immense value in featuring both cuts in conversation with each other–even if it means including the previously available Extended Cut as an accompanying Blu-ray, much like Shout Studios’ extensive release of JFK last year. For one, the loss of the Extended Version also means the loss of Milos Forman’s deeply informative commentary track alongside the restored material.
For what its worth, Warner Brothers preserves the near-feature-length behind the scenes documentary The Making of Amadeus, ported over from its releases of the Extended Cut, alongside a newly-minted 23-minute retrospective special feature Amadeus: The Making of a Masterpiece. This featurette includes new interviews with actors F. Murray Abraham, Tom Hulce, Christine Ebersole, and Simon Callow, as well as production designer Patrizia von Brandenstein, and film music historian Jon Burlingame. Their insights into Amadeus’ complex production history are quite entertaining, especially in regards to the struggles of pulling off such a production in occupied Czechoslovakia. It may just be me, but it appears as if these interviews, conducted via Zoom, have had a layer of DNR or AI-sourced upscaling applied to them, giving them an oddly off-putting painterly look especially juxtaposed against the stunning clips of Amadeus’ 4K restoration.
While the merits of what’s excluded and included still remain controversial aspects of this long-awaited release, it’s undebatable that this transfer of Amadeus is certainly one worthy of such a capital-M Masterpiece of cinema. This disc beautifully brings to life the meticulous, moving artistry of Forman and Schaffer’s film, and will likely be the version of Amadeus I revisit for future viewings–even though I’ll definitely be holding onto my previous Extended Cut Blu-ray for completist’s sake.
Amadeus is now available on 4K UHD courtesy of Warner Brothers.
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THE FRIEND Review: A Career-Best Watts Anchors an Early Year Gem
“What’s going to happen to the dog?”
The Friend boasts the only kind of opening a film such as this could have. The scene consists of a dinner party in a New York apartment where a group of people are listening to a man named Walter (Bill Murray) telling an outrageous story about his past. He continues talking for a spell until a woman named Iris (Naomi Watts) interrupts him, laughingly calling him on his both his past and present self. It’s a great introduction that establishes a rapport between the characters and helps you to see why the two of them have been friends for years. Another reason this opening scene so effective has to do with the fact that as soon as it’s over, we learn that Walter is no longer with us. We immediately cut to Iris in her apartment getting ready for her friend’s memorial. It’s an opening that calls to mind the Joan Didion line of “life changing in an instant,” that immediate shift that happens to a person’s reality the minute death comes for someone they love. It’s a tremendous opening and brilliantly sets the tone for one of the most empathetic films to deal with the subject in quite some time.
In The Friend, New York writer Iris (Watts) is struggling to finish the book about her close friend and fellow writer Walter’s (Murray) life due to a creative block stemming from the effect of his recent passing by suicide. When it’s discovered that one of Walter’s final wishes is that his great dane, Apollo, be left to Iris, it takes her by surprise, turning her already fragile world upside down.
As I pointed out earlier, the chemistry between Iris and Walter is great and features a shorthand so believable, it can’t help but make the following two hours feel all the more meaningful. Just as in life, grief isn’t the easiest of subjects to deal with on film, a problem which The Friend thankfully doesn’t have due to the realistic touches it inserts into its screenplay. This includes Iris listening to old voicemails of Walter, trying to replay the moments she first heard them when he was alive and life felt right. Other more cinematic touches also speak to the grief experience, including alternating narrations from Iris and Walter which, because of a purposeful lack of context, comes across as a sort of correspondence they’re having in another life. Both feel like testaments to the non-tangible items a person leaves behind once they’ve passed on. Their words, the sound of their voice, and our memories of them, all have the ability to remain. These and other elements help to make The Friend a truthful look at the aftermath of losing someone and a reminder that it’s not just immediate family and significant others who mourn when a person’s life has ended.
Directors Scott McGehee and David Siegel have taken great care to ensure that The Friend stresses the value of human/animal relationships, especially during times of loss. “How do you explain death to a dog,” a neighbor asks at one point. It’s a good question, and one that’s not easily answered. For the most part, Iris’ interactions with Apollo don’t veer too much into the kind of cutesy animal/human schtick that some would expect to find here. Instead, both are shown as trying to understand each other and exist in the same space in the wake of losing someone they loved very much. The adjustment between the two is complicated and messy, especially in the way Apollo takes over Iris’ bed and won’t give it up. But the grieving process is itself complicated and messy, a fact the film understands. A scene with Apollo crying in the middle of the night before being comforted by Iris is a great bonding moment between the two of them. Meanwhile, the emotional response from both animal and human at discovering an old email from Walter, which Iris reads aloud, is especially moving. Recognizing Walter’s words, Apollo spots the spirit of his departed master, and in that moment, both him and Iris share in mourning the person they each loved so deeply.
Watts’ turn here is, without question, one of the best in her career. On paper, the character of Iris might not seem like much of a stretch for the actress. Yet there are challenges within the internal emotions Iris keeps from the world that Watts must let us in on. She does this through an incredibly delicate performance that’s both grounded and deep. Through a collection of beautiful subtleties, Watts is able to paint a credible portrait of a grief-stricken soul now trying to make the most of what remains. Her work is aided greatly thanks to an incredibly effective Murray. Even though his character is only seen in brief glimpses, the actor still manages a performance full of nuance and warmth, making you understand why someone would miss Walter.
The Friend belongs to that sub-genre of films set in New York that are part of the “8 million stories” philosophy attached to the city. But who is the titular friend of the title? Is it Iris, who apparently was Walter’s go-to and the one he leaned on the most? Is Apollo the friend because of the companionship he gives Iris in the wake of Walter’s death? Is the friend Walter himself; the unpredictable cynic who made an imprint on both their lives and is now gone? More than likely, the answer is all three of them. My sincere hope is that even though The Friend is an early year release, it’s eventually found by the people it’s meant to touch. What looks like a sentimental heart-tugger on the surface ends up being a beautiful character study, a thoughtful comment on grief, and a testament to the bond between humans and animals.
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A WORKING MAN, Jason Statham Doing Jason Statham Things in an Otherwise Routine Actioner
Over three decades and 50 feature-length films (an average of almost two per year), Jason Statham has crafted an onscreen persona dependent on several key factors, starting and ending with his muscular, streamlined physicality, a monosyllabic, furrowed-brow, taciturn personality, and a preference for hyper-competent characters motivated by an unimpeachable, black-and-white moral code. Add to that smartly chosen roles that leverage Statham’s strengths and minimize his weaknesses (e.g., a limited range, an unmistakably British accent), Statham has developed a fervid fanbase. (If he shows out as he does once or twice a year, they almost always show up.) As a result, he’s become not just an action star, but also one of the most reliable box-office draws of his generation.
Adapted from longtime Punisher/Batman scribe Chuck Dixon’s 2014 novel, Levon’s Trade, by David Ayer (Suicide Squad Fury, Sabotage) and Sylvester Stallone (Cliffhanger, First Blood, Rocky), A Working Man centers on the title character (Jason Statham), Levon Cade, a widower and ex-Royal Marines commando turned Chicago-based construction crew chief for a real-estate development company owned and operated by Joe (Michael Peña) and Jenny Garcia (Arianna Rivas). Warmly regarded by the Garcias as a de facto member of their familia, including their college-age daughter, Jenny (Arianna Rivas), Cade enjoys a seemingly enviable work environment, respected by both his employers and the immigrant-heavy crew he supervises. He even gives his crew an “all for one, one for all” pep talk before they begin their workday. Unsurprisingly, they respond favorably.
After a sequel-ready narrative feint that suggests Cade’s foes will be South of the Border human- or narco-traffickers, A Working Man’s highly serviceable plot comes into sharp focus: Jenny mysteriously disappears after a night out with her friends on the local strip, her fate unknown, the police all but useless, and Cade, moved by principle rather than the promise of cash, decides to put his special set of skills to their intended use, killing anyone, primarily of the flamboyant Russian mobster kind, who foolishly stands (or sits) in the way of saving Jenny from her sleazy captors.
A Working Man only gets more predictable from there, as Cade begins his extra-judicial killing spree at the home of the sleazy bartender involved in Jenny’s kidnapping. Unluckily for the bartender’s Russian associates, they appear at his doorstep just as Cade’s dispatching the bartender. They violently shuffle over their respective mortal coils moments later, leaving not just a messy crime scene behind, but Russian mobsters perplexed by the bloody, shotgun shell-ridden bodies left behind in his search for clues.
Suffering from a distinct lack of imagination and an inability to grasp a moral code not defined by greed, cruelty, or acquisition, the mobsters repeatedly underestimate Cade’s intentions. He’s not interested in wealth, power, or influence. He’s not even out for revenge as so many of Statham’s characters have been in the past. He just wants to return Jenny to her parents, go back to work running his construction crew, and save enough money so he can obtain partial or full custody of his precocious preteen daughter, Merry (Isla Gie), from his resentful father-in-law.
Before long, those same mobsters find their numbers decreasing sharply via non-natural means. Practically unstoppable, Cade, like his obvious inspiration before him, John Wick, gains mythic, even supernatural status (the mobsters refer to Cade as a “demon” on more than one occasion). Rather, however, than dispatching a virtual army of disposable henchmen and working his way through middle management, Cade’s goals are far more straightforward: Gather enough clues as to the identities of Jenny’s kidnappers and their employers, save Jenny from permanent harm, and dispatch those responsible for her kidnapping with extreme prejudice, so they never kidnap or traffic again.
Despite the reams of reactionary, extra-judicial killing (Cade’s the usual judge, jury, and executioner, meting out an exceptionally American brand of vigilante justice), he’s rampaging through all manner of villains, delivering cathartic comeuppance to only the most deserving of violent men and women, and otherwise safeguarding society from its worst, most destabilizing elements (here gleefully unrepentant Russian-born or second-generation Russian criminals, albeit heavily stylized and caricatured into cartoon-like figures perfect for audience laughter and ridicule).
Missing the absurdity and commitment of last year’s collaboration between Ayer and Statham, The Beekeeper, a surprise, well-deserved commercial and critical hit, and thus less satisfying, A Working Man rarely fails to deliver on its promise: Jason Statham doing Jason Statham things (i.e., killing efficiently with minimal effort, violence as both the question and the answer), an over-familiar raw meat and sliced potatoes plot, and a comforting, if unrealistic, re-balancing the onscreen world into traditional ideas of right and wrong before the end credits roll.
A Working Man opens theatrically in North America on Friday, March 28th.
