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    • Red River on Criterion Blu-ray and DVD

    • One can't get any closer to the center of the western genre than Howard Hawks' 1948 Red River. It can boast one of the first film appearances of Montgomery Clift, who never again played a western hero. It's the picture where John Wayne proved that he could hold his own on a screen with any other actor. Borden Chase's primal story of a cattle drive still compels despite Chase's low opinion of Charles Schnee's contribution to the shooting script. Hawks produced the film independently for United Artists release, gambling that his instincts would deliver another hit, and earn profit for him instead of one of the studio moguls. Hawks had a bit of a rough go getting his picture into the theaters, and encountered a problem that led to two versions of the movie contending for place of primacy.
      br> Borden Chase's tale is a generational saga in the vein of Edna Ferber. In search of a future on a ranch of his own, ambitious & charismatic Thomas Dunson leaves his love-struck girlfriend Fen (Coleen Gray) behind, and with his sidekick Nadine Groot (Walter Brennan) uses force to take a huge plot of Texas prairie away from a Mexican landlord. He 'adopts' orphan Matthew Garth (as an adult, Montgomery Clift), who becomes a sure shot and goes to fight in the Civil War. Defeat finds Dunson with a lot of cattle and no local market in Texas, so in desperation he rounds up all the steers he can find for a risky trail drive to Missouri. But Dunson has problems running his outfit. He soon threatens to kill, and then kills, cowboys that try to quit the drive. The more reasonable Matt defies his boss / father figure when he takes the herd away from Dunson, promising to deliver it to a rumored new rail-head at Abilene, Kansas. Furious, Dunson promises in return to catch up with Matt and kill him.
      br> Red River gives us characters so vivid that they became archetypes for a decade's worth of westerns to follow. There's Walter Brennan's Groot, a cantankerous chuck wagon jockey who loses his false teeth in a poker game, and can only borrow them back for meals. There's Cherry Valance, a narcissistic gunfighter who engages in a 'friendly' quick-draw competition with Matt. The rest of the cowboys on the drive are a thick slice of western types, interesting men that Hawks arrays in 'stand and watch' compositions with ten or twelve distinct personalities in the frame. They form yet another Hawks 'professional unit' that appeals to male viewers, a gregarious association of mutual respect. For over two hours we watch 'real men' doing a 'real job': Hawks spent weeks on location driving 1500 steers up hills and across rivers.
      br> As western film authority Robert S. Birchard used to maintain, the brilliant Red River transcends a patchy script through inspired direction. There are only two women in this predominantly male show. Coleen Gray's Fen carries such a powerful sexual charge that her aura hangs over the whole picture, and is not even touched by the late introduction of Joanne Dru's character. Dru's "Tess Milay" is a terrible 'author's construction,' a woman who verbalizes (constantly, redundantly, annoyingly) all the character tensions between Dunson and Matthew that shouldn't need verbalizing. Dru's Milay makes a mockery of the final showdown. Resolving the film's heavy-duty father/son conflict through the intervention of a dame in screwball comedy mode is not Howard Hawks' best idea. Although the ending is funny, the jolting tonal shift makes it play like a TV sitcom. It's as if Lucille Ball intervened between Ahab and Moby Dick, arguing that their big-deal feud doesn't amount to a hill of blubber in this crazy world. Red River is so good that this miscalculation doesn't cripple the experience. We concede that Borden Chase's elegiac, unnecessarily morbid original ending sounds far less appealing. As for Joanne Dru, she has one of the best "tough babe" moments in all of Hawks, courtesy of a convincing stage illusion with an Indian arrow.
      br> Red River introduces a slippery time-lapse trick that was a big source of amusement in film school, where we students thought we were experts in the analysis of cinematic flashbacks and time-shift gimmicks. Dunson talks to fourteen year-old Matt Garth, explaining how in just ten years he plans to build his two cows into a big cattle empire. As Dunson talks we see the growing ranch, the new buildings and corrals, etc. When he's finished, Matt is suddenly ten years older and Dunson has gray sideburns. "Well, here we are ten years later", Dunson whines, "and we have more cows than you can shake a stick at. Now we gotta take 'em to Missouri."
      br> If only life were like that. Following the unwritten rule that a flashback or flash-forward should always return a film to the "real" present tense, it would be amusing to have Dunson finish talking as the image dissolves back to the three of them back where they started, standing around their wagon with two cows and the dead vaquero Dunson just shot. Dunson stares a bit and then throws a dirt clod down, as would a deadpan Bill Murray. "Yep, that's what we gotta do alright. Maybe."
      br> Borden Chase used the exact same construction in Anthony Mann's Bend of the River, with a settler explaining how his new community will be established before winter comes. Hawks himself re-used the device in a movie that's essentially a remake of Red River in ancient Egypt, 1955's Land of the Pharaohs. The head architect explains how the great pyramid of Cheops will be constructed and we see it constructed in a montage, as ten years telescopes into four minutes. Meanwhile, young Dewey Martin grows to manhood, just as did Montgomery Clift.
      br> Red River has a bona fide classic moment every ten minutes or so, from the yip-yip-yahoo beginning of the cattle drive to the stampede caused by 'sweet tooth Bunk Kenneally', to Matthew Dunson's murders of his own men, committed with the dubious justification that the leader of a cattle drive is akin to a captain at sea. Then there's the rescue of a wagon train of gamblers and entertainers, and the happy arrival in Abiliene, greeted by the 19th century's symbol of business success, a mighty steam engine. Composer Dimitri Tiomkin had assembled a rather crazy, psychologically jumbled Big Western music score for David O. Selznick's earlier Duel in the Sun. Tiomkin's music for Red River is arguably his first iconic "Big Sky" western score. Tiomkin's work would soon define the '50s western, pushing an ambitious, aggressive All-American vibe. That's pretty impressive for a musician born in the Ukraine over twenty years before the Russian Revolution.
      br> Howard Hawks' filming style never looked better, with single close-ups reserved only for very privileged moments. Hawks' unity of time makes scenes fold into each other perfectly. A lot is happening, but we're never given a chance to become restless. Coming out of the ten-year time jump, the discussion of economics, the meeting with the other rancher, and the competition between Matthew Garth and Cherry Valance are all really one unbroken scene. Despite its postwar psychological angle, the emotional message imparted is, to coin a phrase, as positive and robust as the great outdoors itself. Red River is a tough act to follow, one of Howard Hawks' very best films and one of the great American movies.
      br> The Criterion Collection's Dual-Format Edition of Red River is a marvelous deluxe presentation. Two versions of the film are encoded on two Blu-rays and two DVD discs. The B&W show is literally one beautiful Russell Metty shot after another. Criterion has brushed up MGM's well-preserved long version of the movie, which is referred to here as the preview version.
      br> The long version is the one that has survived in tip-top shape, unlike many another film favorite, including Hawks' own sublime The Big Sky. We had heard early rumors that Peter Bogdanovich, who knew Hawks as a close friend, might insist that Criterion only use a shorter cut referred to here as the theatrical version. Bogdanovich's concise and rational video piece puts our worries to rest. The theatrical version lops about six minutes out of the movie. It tightens the pace, introducing new opticals to hurry some transitions. The frequent 'diary entry' milestone graphics are replaced by Walter Brennan's voice, paraphrasing the same information in words. To these eyes it seems clear that Hawks was trimming the film down to make the film more 'exhibition friendly', to allow time for more showings per day, or a second feature. Booking theaters in 1949 wasn't easy for small distributors like United Artists, as the majors controlled the majority of the country's theaters.
      br> The theatrical version also changes the final scene, dropping some of the suspenseful musical accompaniment to Dunson's march into Abilene and editing out quite a bit of dynamic "showdown business" before he fires his gun.
      br> As it turns out, the theatrical cut is not what Howard Hawks wanted, either. Peter Bogdanovich explains that Howard Hughes sued because this final scene was too similar to the finish of Hughes' earlier The Outlaw. Editorial changes were negotiated. That's why the superbly directed lead-in to the final confrontation is so mangled in the theatrical cut. Bogdanovich says that the real cut should be the theatrical, with the ending from the preview version. I say let's forget about the theatrical version altogether. To me it looks like Hawks chopped his movie up in the fear that it would flop and he'd never see a profit. Perhaps United Artists advised him to shorten the film, or else. The preview cut plays beautifully and also looks much better. But blessings upon Mr. Bogdanovich for his honest explanation of the versions.
      br> Red River came to TV in both versions. Long before I realized that two distinct cuts existed, I wondered why I was misremembering details in the show. The long version is preferable in every way. There's enough Walter Brennan geezer-speak in the movie itself, making his extra narration too much of a good thing. Did Hawks decide that his audience of school kids couldn't read? The constant editorial tightening also mucks up the pleasing rhythms of Hawks' direction. The long cut allows a shot to play every once in a while, with just music. I also like the 'ride to the rescue' cutting in the wagon train sequence, which has a string of artificial 'hero' medium close-ups of the cowboys riding and shooting. For a brief second these wonderful shots bring back the 'ride 'em cowboy' spirit of serial westerns. The theatrical version skips all of this, and further up-cuts rush us into the next dialogue exchange.
      br> That's only one extra on this packed disc set. Boganovich's taped interview with Hawks is fascinating, as is my old professor Jim Kitses' excellent interview with writer Borden Chase, whose work easily dominated class act '50s westerns. Molly Haskell's take on Red River comes across well in her video interview. A broader overview of the western genre is covered in Lee Clark Mitchell's interview piece.
      br> Back in the realm of standard extras, we have a radio adaptation of the movie, a trailer and a booklet with a Geoffrey O'Brien essay and Ric Gentry's text interview with Hawks' trusted editor Christian Nyby. Nyby lets slip that the ending was reshot, which is interesting -- wasn't it staged on location? Nyby also says that a detail in that confrontation is still missing, in which Dunson shoots off part of Matt's hat -- and part of his ear as well.
      br> Topping things off is a fat paperback edition of Borden Chase's source novel, Blazing Guns of the Chisolm Trail. Criterion's disc producer Curtis Tsui has brought this herd to market in fine shape. Even with all these discs and extras, the western is still being sold at Criterion's standard price point.
      br> By Glenn Erickson

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  1. New Books

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    • Gambling on a Dream: The Classic Las Vegas Strip 1930-1955

    • By Lynn M. Zook

      Take a trip back in time with the content rich, multi-touch book that explores the history of the Las Vegas during its formative years, 1930-1955, and discover how different that famed boulevard was compared to the Las Vegas Strip of today.

      This content rich, multi-touch book includes rarely seen, historic imagery of the first ten hotels and video interviews with men and women who were there and helped make that history.

      With a foreword by author Alan Hess, this book look at the dreamers who built the first hotels that helped make the Las Vegas Strip famous, including Tommy Hull, Billy Wilkerson, Benjamin "Bugsy" Siegel, and Wilbur Clark. There are stories about the entertainers who performed there, including Frank Sinatra and the Rat Pack, Judy Garland, Mae West, the Beatles as well as Howard Hughes.

      The author explores the myths--such as Ben Siegel's so-called fever dream to build the Flamingo Hotel, that the ground beneath the Riviera would not support a nine-story building, Howard Hughes and the Mob-debunking the myths with historical facts.

      Hotels include the El Rancho Vegas, Hotel Last Frontier, Flamingo, Thunderbird, Wilbur Clark's Desert Inn, Sahara, Sands, Royal Nevada, Riviera, and the Dunes.

      This is the story of the first twenty-five years of the Classic Las Vegas Strip--how it began as a five mile stretch of blacktop highway, the dreamers and entertainers who saw its potential and how it became America's Playground.

      Available now only on the iTunes Store for those with Mac computers, iPads, or iPhones. (Amazon Kindle version will be available in early October.)

      For more information, Click Here.


      Lynn M. Zook grew up in Las Vegas during the 1960s and 1970s when the city was known as the Entertainment Capital of the World. She is a historian, preservationist and author. She also wrote Las Vegas in Postcards: 1905-1965.

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    • THE ESSENTIALS: 52 Must-See Movies and Why They Matter

    • By Jeremy Arnold
      Forward by Robert Osborne

      Since its inception on Turner Classic Movies in 2001, The Essentials has become the ultimate for movie lovers to expand their knowledge of must-see cinema and discover or revisit landmark films that have had a lasting impact on audiences everywhere.

      Based on the hit series, THE ESSENTIALS by Jeremy Arnold showcases 52 must-see movies from the silent era to modern times. Readers can enjoy one film per week, like on the show, for a year of great viewing, or indulge in a movie-watching binge-fest. Each film is profiled with entertaining discourse on why it's an Essential, and running commentary is provided by TCM's Robert Osborne and Essentials guest hosts past and present: Sally Field, Drew Barrymore, Alec Baldwin, Rose McGowan, Carrie Fisher, Molly Haskell, Peter Bogdanovich, Sydney Pollack, and Rob Reiner.

      Featuring full-color and black-and-white photography of the greatest stars in movie history throughout, THE ESSENTIALS is the ultimate curated guide to 52 films that define the meaning of the word "classic."


      Jeremy Arnold, a writer and film historian, is the author of Lawrence of Arabia: The 50th Anniversary, a coffee-table book companion to that film's Blu-ray release. In addition to his work for numerous film trade publications, he has written over five hundred programming articles for the Turner Classic Movies website and contributed audio commentaries and historical essays to the DVD and Blu-ray releases of classic films.

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    • Every Frenchman Has One by Olivia de Havilland

    • By Olivia De Havilland

      Celebrated actress Olivia de Havilland has appeared in forty-nine feature films, and was one of the leading movie stars during Hollywood's Golden Age. Best known for her early screen performances in The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) and Gone with the Wind (1939), and her Academy Award-winning performances in To Each Its Own (1946) and The Heiress (1949), in 1953 she became the heroine of her own real-life love affair. She married a Frenchman, Pierre Galante, moved to Paris, and planted her standard on the Left Bank of the River Seine. It has been fluttering on both Left and Right Banks with considerable joy and gaiety from that moment on.

      Now, on the occasion of her 100th birthday, which she will celebrate on July 1, 2016, Crown Publishing Group is reissuing de Havilland's delightful account of her transition from Hollywood starlet to parisienne: EVERY FRENCHMAN HAS ONE (Crown Archetype, on sale June 28, 2016). First published in 1962 but out of print for decades, the bestselling memoir amusingly recounts de Havilland's early years in the "City of Light," a fish out of water story that is as relatable and entertaining today as it was over 50 years ago.

      Said de Havilland of the reissue, "Crown Publishing has given me the most wonderful of Centennial Birthday gifts: the republication of EVERY FRENCHMAN HAS ONE, the account of my comic adventures adapting to life among the French which I wrote over half a century ago. Best of all, those experiences make me laugh even more heartily now than they did then!"

      In the book, which is divided into twenty charmingly funny vignettes, de Havilland discusses the bewilderment and delight of her first years living as an American in Paris, from her skirmishes with French customs, French maids, and French salesladies to French holidays, French law, French doctors, and above all, the French language. Along the way, de Havilland, a girl who knew all the answers, found out that she had to learn a whole new set of questions, such as:

      -How does a girl look sexy without looking sexy?
      -What must you tell a French doctor?
      -Do you eat a crêpe--or wear it?
      -Where do you keep your bathtub?
      -What does every Frenchman have one of?

      The answers--some wicked, all astonishing--can all be found within these pages. And as the icing on the cake, the reissue includes a brand new interview with de Havilland that reflects on her 60 plus years in Paris.


      Olivia de Havilland began her film career at the age of eighteen playing Hermia in Max Reinhardt's motion picture presentation of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. Her films have included The Adventures of Robin Hood, Gone with the Wind, The Snake Pit, and Hush...Hush Sweet Charlotte. Over the course of her esteemed career, she has won two Academy Awards (for her leading roles in To Each His Own and The Heiress), as well as two New York Critics' Awards, two Golden Globes, and a National Board of Review Award. In 2008 she received the National Medal of Arts, and in 2010, the French Legion of Honour. She lives in Paris.

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    • A Girl's Got to Breathe: The Life of Teresa Wright

    • By Donald Spoto

      "A girl's got to breathe!" Teresa Wright to Gary Cooper after receiving a lengthy kiss in The Pride of the Yankees (1942)

      Teresa Wright lived a rich and complex life against the backdrop of Hollywood's Golden Age. She worked with some of the leading actors of that generation in beloved films including Mrs. Miniver, The Pride of the Yankees, Shadow of a Doubt, and The Best Years of Our Lives

      "I never wanted to be a star," she told the noted biographer Donald Spoto at dinner in 1978. "I wanted only to be an actress." She began acting on the stage in summer stock and repertory at the age of eighteen. When Thornton Wilder and Jed Harris saw her in an ingénue role, she was chosen to understudy the part of Emily in the original production of Our Town (1938), which she then played in touring productions. Samuel Goldwyn saw her first starring role on Broadway--in the historic production of Life with Father and immediately offered her a long contract.

      She was the only actress to be nominated for an Academy Award for her first three pictures -The Little Foxes; Pride of the Yankees; and Mrs. Miniver), and she won for the third film. Movie fans and scholars to this day admire her performance in the classics Shadow of a Doubt and The Best Years of Our Lives. The circumstances of her tenure at Goldwyn, and the drama of her breaking that contract, forever changed the treatment of stars. She had two rocky marriages, the first to writer Niven Busch--who wrote Duel in the Sun for her but she had to drop out when she became pregnant--and then to writer Robert Anderson. Both ended in divorce.

      Spoto had the cooperation of Wright's family and heirs and also had exclusive access to her papers and letters. He draws on a number of interviews and anecdotes from a variety of directors and actors who worked with the actress including Alfred Hitchcock, William Wyler, Karl Malden, Jean Simmons, Bette Davis and many more.

      Donald Spoto is the author of twenty-nine books published in more than twenty-six languages including The Dark Side of Genius, High Society: The Life of Grace Kelly and Enchantment: The Life of Audrey Hepburn.

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  1. DVD Reviews

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    • Point Blank on Blu-ray

    • When documentary filmmaker John Boorman made the leap to feature filmmaking with Catch Us If You Can (aka Having a Wild Weekend, 1965), a low-budget rock-n-roll vehicle for the Dave Clark Five, he transformed the quickie into a surprisingly biting satire of popular culture set to a bouncy soundtrack, displaying a remarkable sophistication and creativity unexpected from such a project. It was enough to land him his first American film, Point Blank, where he revealed an even greater ambition and talent.

      Based on the novel The Hunter by Richard Stark (a pen name for Donald Westlake), Point Blank shuffles the lean, straight-forward story of a gunman named Walker (Lee Marvin), who is double crossed by his partner in crime and returns (seemingly from the dead) for revenge, into a surreal, abstracted crime drama. The plot is faithful to original novel, a hard-boiled piece of crime fiction reimagined for the underworld culture of the sixties, but Boorman and Marvin, who requested the young director and supported his unconventional vision for the film, refract it through a modern lens. Walker's odyssey from Alcatraz in San Francisco to the underworld of Los Angeles is splintered with short, sharp shards of memory that cut through his story, as if reflecting Walker's attempts to put the pieces of cause and effect together in his mind.

      Boorman views L.A. through an alienated lens and edits it more like a European art film than an American crime thriller, but fills it with offbeat, ultra-stylized scenes of violence. It opens on a gunshot that should have killed him and he struggles to put it all together when he wakes up: "Cell. Prison cell. How did I get here?" Marvin is enigmatic, to say the least, as he tracks down his unfaithful, guilt-ridden wife (Sharon Acker), his wife's sister (Angie Dickinson), his old friend turned double-crossing heist partner Mal Reese (John Veron), and finally the syndicate bigwigs, all just to get his due: "I want my 93 grand."

      This vision of urban Los Angeles is alternately crowded and noisy and urban, and austere and empty and dislocated. His footsteps echoing through an empty, anonymous hallway becomes the disembodied beat of his march of revenge. A scatting, screaming R&B singer at a chic night spot called The Film Club is the feral soundtrack of a brutal backstage fight, at once visceral and abstracted in the clutter of 35mm film cans and nightclub supplies. The aftermath of a suicide becomes a psychedelic vision of destruction, which disappears in a cut to the apartment suddenly empty, a ghost house with no evidence of life or death, just transition.

      The dialogue is loaded with references to "a dream" and characters constant remind Walker that he's supposed to be dead. Keenan Wynn adds another level of remove as the devil whispering in Walker's ear, another unreal figure with a carefully concealed agenda who is preternaturally attuned to Walker's movements. More than an informant, he appears from nowhere to provide a name, an address, a piece of information on the trail to the top man in the Organization as Walker's debt keeps getting passed up the chain of command.

      Walker is both an unstoppable sentinel who seems more than flesh and blood and a vulnerable man wounded by betrayal who has armored over his emotions with a mission. Marvin delivers both sides of the character without compromising either. There's a cold fury under his deliberate movements and his eyes betray a moment of regret and sadness when he finds his wife dead by her own hand, but it is all pushed down and kept in check by his single-minded focus. "I just want my money" is his mantra, not a matter of greed but a debt to be settled to balance the scales. Marvin is at once deliberate and relaxed, a veteran criminal soldier alert to everything, which makes his character even more fascinating. He doesn't demand attention on screen, he commands it through confidence and ability and cool focus.

      That alone makes him more admirable than Mal, who is played by John Vernon as an oily, arrogant, amoral rat, selling out anyone and everyone to buy his way back into the Organization. The rest of the members of the cast don't play characters as much as cogs, functionaries in a criminal enterprise as a cutthroat corporation, simply doing their jobs as if Walker was a rival in a hostile takeover. Only Angie Dickinson's Chris has the passion and fury and emotional life of a human being, siding with Walker out of both loyalty and for payback against Mal ("He makes my flesh crawl") and the Organization that has taken over her business and her life. Sharon Acker, who plays Walker's wife, comes off less haunted than simply weak. She barely leaves an impression, which is fitting for her character but fails to offer any sense of tragedy to her story, and she's almost instantly forgotten after she exits the film. It's really the only weak element of the film, which otherwise is strong, confident, and sure from beginning to end.

      Point Blank has been called a modern film noir but it has more in common with Performance, another crime thriller that fractures time, offers enigmatic and ambiguous characters, and equates organized crime with big business. Boorman delivers meticulously executed set pieces that are designed for the wide CinemaScope frame with a sure sense of space and a dispassionate perspective. He emphasizes intelligence over action and presents Walker as total professional, never flustered and always emotionally removed from the situation. And if Walker is an extreme incarnation of the revenge driven noir anti-hero, the modern syndicate has transformed the old school mob into a world of paper jungles and corporate businessmen, an alienating concept to a two-fisted, gun-wielding independent like Walker. "Profit is the only principle," is their motto. Almost 50 years later, it's more modernist than modern, a fascinating time capsule of an era when young directors brought nouvelle vague style to classic genres, and a cryptic crime thriller that turns Marvin into the most enigmatic criminal professional in the movies.

      Boorman creates a hard, austere look for the film and the new Blu-ray delivers a sharp clarity to his vision of Los Angeles as an impersonal modern city. Apart from a few scenes, he strips the frame down to isolated figures in an empty urban landscape under the hard light of the California sun. It's an urban desert and the disc preserves that atmosphere of a ghost city by day and a shadowy underworld at night when the crowds gather on the streets and in the clubs. The impersonal palette of concrete surfaces and blank office interiors in the day gives way to the color of human habitation after dark, which oddly enough has a warmer atmosphere than the harsh light of day.

      Carried over from the earlier DVD release is an audio commentary track with director John Boorman and fellow director Steven Soderbergh, a fan of the film who essentially hosts the commentary. He engages Boorman in conversations about the film's style, the use of color and camera lenses, working with Lee Marvin (who became close friends with Boorman), and making his Hollywood debut with a film that refused to play by the studio rules. Soderbergh's The Limey was clearly indebted to Point Blank in both its theme of revenge and in its fractured storytelling and unconventional use of flashbacks. Taking part in this commentary is like paying tribute to his inspiration.

      Also features the vintage promotional featurette The Rock (in two parts), which looks at shooting the film on location in Alcatraz, and the original trailer.

      by Sean Axmaker

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    • Ravenous on Blu-ray

    • Ravenous (1999) channels the story reminiscent of the Donner Party disaster and the legend of Alferd Packer (the only American ever convicted of cannibalism) into a gruesome survival thriller with a crimson-hued streak of black humor and an elemental hint of the supernatural. The resulting film takes top honors as the definitive frontier cannibal movie. Not that there's a long list to choose from, mind you, but this earns its position with honors, thanks to a gleefully weird and savagely bloodthirsty sensibility.

      Guy Pearce is Captain John Boyd, whose battle cowardice during the Mexican-American war inadvertently results in making him an accidental hero. The ordeal of playing dead under the bleeding corpses of his fellow officers also puts him off meat, as the opening scenes so vividly illustrate. Director Antonia Bird cuts straight to the heart of the situation as she intercuts soldiers devouring bleeding-rare steaks at a military luncheon with the bloody casualties of battle stacked like cordwood: meat is meat, at least as far as this film is concerned. Boyd's commanding officer (John Spencer of The West Wing), who knows that his valor is a fraud, ships him out to the fringes of military reach: a fort in a California mountain pass, which runs with a minimal compliment during the impassable winter months. "This place thrives on tedium," smiles fort commander Colonel Hart (Jeffrey Jones), who takes everything with a bemused indulgence. How else to survive a company made up of a useless drunk second-in-command(Stephen Spinella), a giggling weed-head idiot (David Arquette), a twitchy, mumbling chaplain (Jeremy Davies), and a macho soldier boy (Neal McDonough) who holds the rest of the company in utter contempt?

      The tedium is quickly dispersed when a bedraggled disaster survivor (Robert Carlyle) stumbles into camp. He spins a horrific story of a lost wagon train and an incompetent scout who strands them in the mountains, where as the winter snows traps them and desperation leads to feeding on human flesh. It's a tale right out of the Donner Party until it turns feral, but it's not even close to the real story of Carlyle's wild-eyed survivor. For a starving man, he looks remarkably fit when he doffs his shirt, and other clues suggest that this is no production gaffe. One night, while camping on the trail to his old camp to search for survivors, he's caught licking the bleeding wounds of an injured soldier. You know, tasting his next potential meal.

      That's when the film takes its twist into weird and wild horror, a bizarre plot that doesn't really make much logical sense but sure makes for a wicked mix of psychodrama and visceral body horror. The Native American Wendigo myth is referenced to explain madness, but you could say it's a vampire tale without the supernatural dimension--it turns out human flesh is addictive, and it helps to have a nest of fellow flesh-eaters to keep the diet coming--or call it a particularly gruesome metaphor for manifest destiny. However you label it, it is off-the-charts crazy, an eat-or-be-eaten thriller served very, very rare.

      British director Antonia Bird seems like an odd match for this material. She honed her craft on TV drama and made her reputation with the tough, wrenching dramas Priest and Face, two films with complex characters and socially conscious themes. What they have in common with Ravenous is star Robert Carlyle, who recommended Bird after the film's original director Milcho Manchevski was let go after three weeks and the producer's chosen replacement, Raja Gosnell, was rejected by the cast. Bird (who passed away last year at the relatively young age of 62 after a battle with thyroid cancer) was frustrated by the conditions of the production and the oversight of the producers and she complained that her cut was compromised in post-production. That may explain the awkward pace, jarring turns, and a climax that feels tossed together--an uninspired way to end such a devious film--but she is clearly the architect of the odd, offbeat key of the film's blackly comic tone and surreal atmosphere and Carlyle is her partner in outsized madness. He leads the cast in playing their eccentricities big, though next to Carlyle's juicy performance, Arquette and Davies come off more like actor's studio sketches in twitchy weirdness or fidgety indecision than actual characters. Guy Pearce provides the contrast, creating a character fighting to maintain control and keep his emotions and his reflexive revulsion in check as everyone else lets their freak flag fly. It oddly enough makes him the most intense character on screen. As all that fear and disgust and anxiety just bottles up behind his desperate eyes and increasingly battered body, Pearce shows us the toll this ordeal exacts on him. In this survival drama, he's the one in true survival mode.

      Scream Factory's Blu-ray features a solid new HD transfer that preserves the dynamic contrast between the white-out daylight scenes of snow and the ominous shadows of the deep forest and the dark rough-hewn quarters of the frontier fort. Night doesn't have to fall for the darkness to seep into the image. Given the elemental quality of the imagery--much of the film takes place in the snowbound wilderness, with the Tatra Mountains of Slovakia standing in for California--the transfer has a satisfying level of grain that not only preserves the texture of the film but gives the entire atmosphere an added level of authenticity. These images feel like they were carved into the film.

      The film was previously released on DVD over a decade ago with three separate commentary tracks. Director Antonia Bird and composer Damon Albarn team up for the most informative track, with Bird talking in detail about the physical challenges of the production. Screenwriter Ted Griffin and co-star Jeffrey Jones tend to lapse into silences in their track and actor Robert Carlyle is even more intermittent in his the solo track. Also carried over from the earlier disc is a collection of deleted scenes (many of them in rough-cut form) with optional commentary by Bird and a gallery of stills. New to this edition is a 20-minute interview with Jeffrey Jones, who looks back on the themes of the film.

      by Sean Axmaker

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    • Southern Comfort on Blu-ray

    • A motley crew of Louisiana National Guardsman wade out into the swamps for weekend maneuvers. It's 1973, as the war in Vietnam is grinding away the soul of America and the heart of the military, and this platoon of weekend warriors--a volatile collection of rednecks, hotheads, jokers, and guys who probably signed up to steer clear of the draft--are like fresh recruits going into battle for the first time. They've got the fatigues and the cocky attitude but dubious discipline and training and their machine guns are loaded with blanks as they head into the bayou. To the Cajun swamp folk, the trappers and hunters living on the fringes of society, these men are invaders who trample their camps and steal their boats. And when one of the soldiers lets loose a burst from his weapon, laughing like the class bully after humiliating the new kid, these shadowy swamp dwellers defend themselves, becoming a guerilla strike force waging a war of terror on the utterly unprepared toy soldiers. They don't know that it's just blanks in those guns but it likely wouldn't matter if they did. They've been attacked and they will respond. These city dwellers are out their element and after their commanding officer (Peter Coyote) is gone, the first casualty in the war of attrition, they are out of their depth, flailing around with a panic that dumps their radio, compass, map, and pretty much everything else that was supposed to keep them alive.

      Southern Comfort will never be mistaken for a Nation Guard recruitment tool. Call it an anti-platoon movie. Hill gives the squad the outward accoutrements of a real fighting force, down to the uniforms and weapons, but this is a military unit in name only. Beyond the swaggering banter of the soldiers and self-deprecating comments of Spencer (Keith Carradine), the self-appointed company joker, they have no real training, no experience under fire, and no commitment to one another. These guys are more like barroom buddies playing soldier than a disciplined force.

      There are two voices of restraint in the wilderness, Spencer and new guy Hardin (Powers Booth), a transfer from Texas who doesn't know anyone in the company but sizes up their weaknesses quickly and realizes that they haven't much a chance as long as wild cards like Reece (Fred Ward) and Stuckey (Lewis Smith) go charging through the swamps looking for payback. Casper (Les Lannom) takes command by virtue of an essentially meaningless detail of rank and bumbles around quoting regulations and making speeches, doggedly following the book because he hasn't a clue what to do next. The filmmakers don't make him a figure of ridicule, mind you, just a guy falling back on the only thing he knows. In fact, none of them are necessarily "bad guys," though like any Hill ensemble, it has its share of jerks, bullies, racists, and anger management candidates and the pressure brings out their worst instincts.

      So yes, it's a story of American soldiers in an alien land, lost in an unfamiliar landscape and outmaneuvered by a guerrilla army at home in the jungle. Director / screenwriter Walter Hill and producer / co-screenwriter David Giler insist to this day that Southern Comfort was never intended to be an allegory for Vietnam, simply a survival tale in an overwhelming and unfamiliar environment. It's hard to take them at face value but it is easy to forget the allegory in the heat of the drama. It also shares DNA with Deliverance, another film about city boys with guns who take their sense of ownership and entitlement into the wilderness, threaten the locals, and end up hunted by them. But where John Boorman's primal thriller turns his Appalachian backwoods men into brutal outlaws who take pleasure in stalking the city invaders, Hill and Giler keep their Cajun soldiers hidden, seen as figures in the distance or blurs running behind the trees, ghosts on the fringes of sight. They treat the would-be soldier like wild game, silently shadowing their progress and whipping them into a state of panic to steer them into their traps. And whatever the short-fused guys in the platoon think, this is no cultural conspiracy to wipe out the invaders. Their enemy consists of a handful of isolated hunters who didn't start the war but by God are determined to finish it. The rest of the Cajun folks they meet don't seem to be a part of it, though after a couple of days in the swamps, the paranoia is powerful enough to make every sidelong glance look ominous. Ry Cooder's eerie and haunting score only intensifies the paranoia.

      What ultimately differentiates them from the soldiers of a classical platoon drama is that they haven't bonded under fire and have never had to put their trust in one another. This group unravels and tears itself apart from fear and panic and unfocused rage. And in classic Hill manner, there are no philosophical musings or existential conversations. The closest the film comes to putting its theme into words is from the mantra of a terrified Simms (Franklyn Seales), who finds himself cut off from the group and suddenly aware of just how vulnerable he is. "I'm not supposed to be here," he repeats, as if begging the universe to correct some cosmic planning error. And then he's no longer there.

      While this band of infighting brothers wades blindly through the swamp without a clue as to their bearings or direction, Hill's direction never falters. He has always had a sure hand as a storyteller, keeping his plots uncluttered and letting the details of character, conflict, and the world around them define the story. Southern Comfort limits the world to the middle of the swamp, where we (like the soldiers) are unable to find any point of reference, and observes how the discomfort of the environment and the constant disorientation takes its toll on what little good sense the characters bring with them to the mission. It exacerbates the already dysfunctional dynamics of this platoon of battle virgins and is as deadly on its own as the native hunters who use the environment as a weapon in their arsenal. It's not necessarily skill or even luck that saves the guardsmen who survive the ordeal. In classic Hill fashion, it is a matter of intelligence, awareness, teamwork, and the commitment to do what is necessary to survive. There's no sense of victory in survival, merely relief.

      Blu-ray / DVD Combo Pack. Both discs feature the new HD master but the Blu-ray of course features superior clarity and richness of color. Both are clean, strong images while the Blu-ray shows off excellent detail. The Dolby Digital Mono soundtrack puts the mix right up front. A couple of scenes of chaos and confusion overwhelm the dialogue with background sound, which is surely intentional but still seems a little out of balance to my ears.

      New to this release in an original 27-minute featurette with new interviews with actors Keith Carradine, Powers Boothe, Lewis Smith, and Peter Coyote and, on low-resolution video via Skype, director Walter Hill and producer David Giler, who collaborated on the script with Hill. The actors share stories of shooting in the Louisiana swamps in February with wet suits under their uniforms, six weeks of working in the cold and damp, and they remind us that they were all in it together. The crew endured the same conditions so no one had the right to complain. More interesting is the discussion around the themes of the film. Hill and Giler maintain that while they did not intentionally set out to make a Vietnam allegory they were aware that audiences would make that connection, while the actors admit that they knew it was an allegory from the moment they read the script. Keith Carradine's reading is particularly detailed and interesting. Curiously, none of the six participants mention Deliverance.

      Carried over from the old DVD release is a brief collection of outtakes and the original trailer. All of the supplements are featured in both the Blu-ray and DVD discs of the Combo Pack.

      By Sean Axmaker

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    • Tess on Blu-ray

    • Tess (1979), Roman Polanski's film adaptation of Thomas Hardy's 1890 novel Tess of the D'Urbervilles, has in 2014 received a sublime Blu-Ray and DVD release from Criterion. Restored by Pathe under the direct supervision of Polanski himself, the movie looks and sounds magnificent. At first glance, the lushly beautiful Tess is a seemingly unusual work for Polanski, whose films we tend to associate with horror and sex, but this was actually a highly personal project for the master filmmaker. It was his first picture after fleeing the United States in 1977, and also a project that his wife, Sharon Tate, had suggested he make as a vehicle for herself -- just before she was murdered by the Manson gang in 1969. Polanski read the novel after her death and realized it was indeed right up his alley, and he dedicated the eventual film to her with an on-screen inscription.

      Hardy's tale, to which the film is very faithful, is about a poor English girl, Tess, whose father learns he is a distant descendant of a once prominent, rich family, the D'Urbervilles. He sends Tess to the home of a remaining D'Urberville to find employment (or at least a handout), but Tess winds up being seduced by the ne'er-do-well Alec D'Urberville (Leigh Lawson), who becomes obsessed with her. Fleeing Alec, she eventually finds work at a dairy farm and starts a passionate relationship with a young farmer named Angel Clare (Peter Firth). But in this society, the revelation of the sins of her past, even if they were not her fault, could doom Tess to shame, ostracism and worse. Ultimately, Tess is about a woman struggling to make her way in the world, looking for happiness, or at least survival, but finding that a judgmental society, timing and even luck are all working against her.

      Polanski explores this theme vividly, sympathetically and cinematically. Costumes, speech and physical mannerisms of the actors all convince the audience of the time period and of the distinctions among the social classes, and the film's pictorial beauty does much to stress the contrasting cruelty of some of the characters. The movie is not "pretty" for prettiness' sake. Most important, one really feels the isolation of Tess throughout the film, which is at once sprawling and intimate. The plot itself, while important, feels less vital here than the depiction of Tess' emotional experience of the world she is forced to inhabit, and as a result, the long running time feels entirely appropriate and never tedious.

      Tess was shot entirely in France, mostly on locations in Normandy and Brittany, because Polanski worried that if he traveled to England he would be extradited to the United States. Polanski later wrote, "To tell the story at all, it was essential to find the proper setting, a twentieth-century equivalent of Hardy's nineteenth-century Dorset. The only way to convey the rhythm of his epic was to use that setting as an integral part of the film, signaling the passage of time and the change in Tess herself by means of a visible, almost palpable change in seasons. Once our rural locations were chosen, we would have to film throughout the year from early spring, through high summer, to the depths of winter." With such a shooting strategy, filming wound up lasting nine months over 80 separate locations, and Tess became, at $12 million, the most expensive film ever made in France to that point. Freak weather and labor strikes only added to the overall time and expense.

      If Tess is atypical of Polanski, it's in the way that The Age of Innocence (1993) is atypical of director Martin Scorsese. But in fact, both films are completely emblematic of their directors' concerns and are indeed suffused with violence. It's just that the violence is emotional, an undercurrent beneath a pristine surface -- exactly like the societies the films depict.

      That being said, it's hard to shake some of Tess's most exquisitely beautiful imagery, such as the lovely natural light of an outdoor dance, or the riders and dogs on a fox hunt who appear out of a sublime mist, or the face of Nastassia Kinski, who is heart-stoppingly gorgeous (a quality, incidentally, that is vital to the story). Cinematographer Geoffrey Unsworth, who had shot such films as Becket (1964) and Cabaret (1972), died a few weeks into production and was replaced by Ghislain Cloquet, who sadly would himself pass away two years later. They shared the Oscar for Best Cinematography. The film also won for Best Art Direction and Best Costume Design and was nominated for Best Picture, Best Director and Best Original Score.

      Criterion's dual-format release contains one Blu-ray disc and two DVDs, with both formats containing the film and identical extras. And there are plenty, starting with three short documentaries about the film's making (originally included in Columbia's 2004 DVD release), directed by Laurent Bouzereau and totaling 73 minutes in length. Bouzereau expertly interviews key players like Polanski, producers Claude Berri and Timothy Burrill, co-writer John Brownjohn, actors Nastassia Kinski and Leigh Lawson, set decorator Pierre Guffroy, costume designer Anthony Powell, hair and makeup artists, the crew electrician, the assistant editor and others. The artists discuss fascinating details of production, like the challenge of getting the "strawberry seduction" scene between Kinski and Lawson just right (which astonishingly was shot on a rainy day despite looking on-screen like the height of warm summer), the creation of the Stonehenge set outside of Paris, and the design of the costumes to be authentic and truly expressive of character -- beautiful without being decorative. Powell is fascinating as he discusses his approach, and also about the little splotch of blood he put on the hem of Tess' dress at a key point in the story, which Polanski shot for maximum impact.

      Burrill recalls that on location the filmmakers were only able to see the rushes days after shooting, rather than the next day, and not always under the best conditions. But gradually, he says, "we started to see what was happening, the magic that was coming off the screen, and the extraordinary professionalism of Nastassia.... I don't think there was ever one day when she fluffed a line. She was word-perfect, always."

      Second is a 52-minute documentary from 2006 by Daniel Ablin and Serge July entitled Once Upon a Time... Tess. This is also interesting, but it covers much of the same material as the Bouzereau pieces, with many of the same interviewees telling the same stories. It's also not as smoothly edited. But unlike the Bouzereau film, it includes composer Philippe Sarde, and delves more into Polanski's pre-Tess life and career. It also recounts the difficulties in Tess's post-production, particularly concerning the running time. Francis Coppola was brought in by producer Claude Berri to trim the film, which was deemed overlong, but Polanski hated the result, leading to a falling-out between Berri and Polanski and between Polanski and Sarde. Polanski himself eventually trimmed the film by about 20 minutes, resulting in the current running time of 171 minutes.

      Third, there's a 1979 episode of the French TV program Cine Regards, running 48 minutes, that looks at the making of Tess and interviews Polanski during the film's production. The interviews with Polanski are revealing, but the real strengths of the piece are the long, uninterrupted slices of life on the set as Polanski directs and thinks through scenes, conducting his orchestra of crewmembers. These sequences go on long enough to make us feel as if we are there.

      Fourth is a 1979 episode of the British TV program The South Bank Show, 50 minutes in length, in which host Melvyn Bragg interviews Polanski. And Criterion rounds things out with the film's trailer as well as a handsome printed booklet containing a fine essay by Colin MacCabe and crisp, colorful photos from the film, almost all of which feature the entrancing Nastassia Kinski. It's a beautiful package and motion picture, all very highly recommended.

      By Jeremy Arnold

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    • Used Cars on Blu-ray

    • The opening of Used Cars (1980) has the ominous, wind-scoured character of a modern crime film in a desperate southwest town where a Sergio Leone western wouldn't be out of place. The camera cranes down from a high shot over a struggling used car dealership, where a few pathetic beaters line the lot, and slowly glides over to one car with someone is crammed under the dashboard. The only sound is the lonely wind--the kind of strangled, desolate howl you get in dustbowl dramas and desert survival thrillers--and the grunts of the man struggling with the mechanics under the dash. And then we see the odometer turn back, shaving some 40,000 or so miles from the record. The title hits the screen, a brass band jumps in with "Stars and Stripes Forever," and the unidentified mechanic wriggles out to reveal Kurt Russell in a cheap, loud suit making his rounds to mask the sorry condition of the cars on the lot. It turns out that this is a crime movie after all, or at least a film of multiple misdemeanors and bald-faced misrepresentation, and the perpetrators are the good guys.

      The second feature from director Robert Zemeckis and co-writer and producer Bob Gale, Used Cars comes right out of the screen comedy culture of the late 1970s and early 1980s, when the underdogs snubbed their collective noses at authority, propriety, property and privacy laws and anything else that crossed their paths in slobs vs. snobs comedies like Animal House (1978), Caddyshack (1980) and Ghostbusters (1984). Used Cars is raucous and reckless and far more gleefully corrupt than any of its brothers in rebellion, embracing the confidence games and illegal stunts pulled by the skeleton crew that works for Luke Fuchs (Jack Warden), who is the closest thing that the film has to an honest man. The devotion of salesmen Rudy (Russell) and Jeff (Gerrit Graham) and mechanic Jim (Frank McRae) to Luke is really all that separates them from Luke's rapacious brother and across-the-street rival Roy L. Fuchs (Warden again) and his slick sales force. That and the fun they have ripping off the rubes who wander on to their lot.

      The premise of film - two used car outfits at war with one another - was hatched by John Milius, who was one of the executive producers (along with Steven Spielberg), but the script is pure Zemeckis and Gale. The rivals are twin brothers, the Cain and Abel of used car dealers. When impending freeway construction threatens to destroy bad brother Roy's dealership and make the good brother Luke rich, Roy finds a way to speed the demise of Luke's bad heart and Rudy makes good on his promise to keep Roy from taking over the lot. Rudy has his own, more immediate motivation, of course--he's trying to buy his way into the local political machine and he's still a little short on the down payment--but it's also personal. Luke is something of a father figure to the crew, which makes them the mischievous sons who break the rules whenever dad's back is turned. After Luke dies, their antics more outrageous, from secretly burying Luke on the lot (his beloved convertible fittingly serves as his casket) to jamming satellite signals with wild pirate commercials replete with gratuitous nudity and senseless destruction of private property. The plot seems to careen from one comic collision to another but there's a nicely-constructed plan under it all, simple but ingenious enough that you don't actually see how the pieces are laid in place until it all comes together in the ragged spectacle of final act.

      It's not really a satire of American business so much as a wicked lampoon: lie, cheat and steal as the American way, as long as you do it with a sense of fun. Kurt Russell was just breaking out of his clean-cut post-Disney persona when he took on the role and he sinks his teeth into Rudy, turning the brash characters into the epitome of the smiling mercenary selling lemons to suckers with dirty tricks and phony promises. Gerrit Graham is his partner in commercial piracy, unfazed by anything but harbingers of bad luck, notably red. Deborah Harmon is both romantic interest and plot complication as Luke's long lost daughter, who shows up just after dad's death. Jack Warden has a field day playing twin brothers and Frank McRae is hilarious as the giant adrenaline-pumped mechanic. The crotch-grabbing Mexican junk car wholesaler is ubiquitous character actor and future director Alfonso Arau in his first great comic role in an American film (Romancing the Stone and Three Amigos soon followed). But the entire cast is in danger of being upstaged by the adorable dog Toby, who has his own role to play in the sale stunts. This pooch's hilarious performance makes him one of the greatest movie dogs.

      Zemeckis matured into a polished filmmaker and an ambitious storyteller and went on to make more sophisticated, more provocative, and certainly more subtle films, but he never made anything as savagely funny as Used Cars. Its banged-up ingenuity and rough-and-tumble energy and warped mirror reflection of the American Dream as a snatch and grab free-for-all is wickedly funny. Everyone is a crook here and the epilogue even enshrines mendacity as a virtue, at least when it comes to stepping into the used car game.

      Used Cars has a remarkably tidy visual aesthetic for a film about a seedy, shabby culture, with a screen that is uncluttered and flooded with desert sunlight in day scenes and blasted with floodlights as bold as a football stadium night game for the after-dark stunts. The new HD transfer shows a well-preserved print and is sharp and clear. Simply put, it looks superb.

      The commentary track with Zemeckis, Gale, and Russell, carried over from the 2002 DVD reelease, is almost as fun as the movie. "We wanted Jimmy Stewart in It's A Wonderful Life, except he's totally corrupt," is how Zemeckis explains the genesis of Rudy. Kurt Russell laughs back: "So you cast me!" These guys are having a blast laughing their way through their remembrances, but they manage to stay on track and keep the production stories coming. Few commentaries manage to balance the information and entertainment so well.

      There's a four-minute reel of outtakes (apparently taken from surviving video dub; it's all quite hazy), a radio interview with Russell, a car commercial featuring Russell, galleries of art and stills, and not one but two isolated score tracks: along with Patrick Williams' musical score heard in the film is an alternate, unused score by Ernest Gold. We don't quite get it in the context of the film (at least not with dialogue and sound effects) but it's a more conventional, less satirical approach. The accompanying 8-page booklet features another fine essay by Julie Kirgo.

      By Sean Axmaker

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  1. Press Release

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    • Acclaimed documentary TAB HUNTER CONFIDENTIAL released on DVD & Blu-ray

    • FilmRise has announced the September 1 Blu-Ray and DVD release of Tab Hunter Confidential. After an incredible year on the film festival circuit and a theatrical run across fifty cities in the United States, the acclaimed documentary will be available to rent or own from all major retailers. Based on Hunter's New York Times best selling memoir, producer Allan Glaser and director Jeffrey Schwarz (I Am Divine) have assembled dozens of past and present Hollywood stars, and most importantly the man himself, to talk frankly about being a survivor of the Hollywood roller coaster. The Blu-Ray & DVD will be available nationwide at all major retailers, with autographed copies only available on Tab Hunter's official website, www.tabhunter.com. Click here to learn more and order Tab Hunter Confidential on Blu-Ray & DVD (with optional autograph).

      Throughout the 1950s, Tab Hunter reigned as Hollywood's ultimate heartthrob. In dozens of films, and in the pages of countless magazines, Hunter's astonishing looks and golden-boy sex appeal drove his fans to screaming, delirious frenzy, solidifying him the prototype for all young matinee idols to come. Bristling against being just another pretty face and wanting to be taken seriously, Hunter was one of the few to be able to transcend pin-up boy status. He earned his stripes as an actor to become a major movie star and recording artist. But throughout his years of stardom, Hunter had a secret. He was gay, and spent his Hollywood years in a precarious closet that repeatedly threatened to implode and destroy him. Decades later, Hunter's dramatic, turbulent and ultimately inspiring life story has become an explosive documentary feature.

      Tab Hunter Confidential offers unprecedented access to the man behind the marquee smile, who shares first hand what it was like to be a manufactured movie star during the Golden Age of Hollywood and the consequences of being someone totally different from his studio image. The film traces Hunter's dizzying rise to Hollywood super-stardom, his secret life in an era when being openly gay was unthinkable, and his ultimate triumph when the limelight finally passed him by and true love won.

      Punctuating Tab's on-screen presence are rare film clips and provocative interviews with friends and co-stars including John Waters, Clint Eastwood, George Takei, Debbie Reynolds, Robert Wagner, Portia de Rossi, Noah Wyle, Connie Stevens, Robert Osborne, and dozens more.

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    • Dick Dinman & Eddie Muller's Bogart Bonanza!

    • DICK DINMAN & EDDIE MULLER'S BOGART BONANZA (PART ONE): Producer/host Dick Dinman welcomes back distinguished Film Noir Foundation head honcho Eddie Muller as both dedicated Humphrey Bogart fans rejoice about the fact that no less than four revered Bogart classics have hit the streets recently on Blu-ray. In this first of two shows Dick and Eddie trade thoughts about the amazing cult favorite IN A LONELY PLACE (Eddie's single favorite film!) which has been released by the Criterion Collection in typically outstanding Criterion fashion and no slouch in the Blu-ray visual perfection department is the Warner Archive's release of Bogart and Bacall's most unusual thriller DARK PASSAGE which reunites them in a tale of so many unexpected twists and turns that fortunate viewers will be on the edge of their seats.

      DICK DINMAN & EDDIE MULLER'S BOGART BONANZA (PART TWO): On this second Bogart Bonanza show acclaimed Czar of Noir Eddie Muller and producer/host Dick Dinman marvel at the omnipresent degree of authenticity displayed in the rare Bogart newspaper drama DEADLINE U.S.A. which has just hit the streets (with a sublime Eddie Muller commentary) on Blu-ray courtesy of Kino's KL Studio Classics and rabid fans who've been pleading for the Blu-ray release of TO HAVE AND HAVE NOT (which is Bogart and Bacall's first and most scorchingly incendiary pairing) can now revel in the white hot perfection of this latest exemplary Warner Archive release.

      The award-winning DICK DINMAN'S DVD CLASSICS CORNER ON THE AIR is the only show devoted to Golden Age Movie Classics as they become available on DVD and Blu-ray. Your producer/host Dick Dinman includes a generous selection of classic scenes, classic film music and one-on-one interviews with stars, producers, and directors. To hear these as well as other DVD CLASSICS CORNER ON THE AIR shows please go to www.dvdclassicscorner.com or www.dvdclassicscorner.net.

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    • Library of America's The Moviegoer on LAURA

    • Library of America's new regular web feature called The Moviegoer is devoted to great films inspired by classic American writing. This biweekly column features columns by Megan Abbott, David Denby, Wendy Lesser, Charles McGrath, Farran Smith Nehme, Carrie Rickey,Terrence Rafferty, Harold Schechter, Michael Sragow, & others and launched on January 27, 2016.

      American literature has proven an endlessly renewable resource for filmmakers, its originality and vitality inspiring whole catalogues of memorable movies. Now Library of America, the acclaimed nonprofit publisher of the nation's greatest writing, presents The Moviegoer, a biweekly column in which curator Michael Sragow (Film Comment) and other leading writers and critics offer fresh, penetrating examinations of the best of these films, gems that readers will want to revisit or watch for the first time. Standing at the intersection of classic American writing and classic filmmaking, The Moviegoer, offers not reviews but full scale reevaluations that explore the creative alchemy involved in translating a masterwork from page (or stage) to screen. It takes its inspiration, and its catholic compass, from the hero of Walker Percy's famous novel, and, in the words of curator Sragow, "aims to generate new enthusiasm for cinema as well as for literature."

      To read the entry in the series on Laura by Megan Abbott and to sign up for an alert when a new Moviegoer is published, click here.

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    • John Wayne Cancer Foundation kicks off SHOW YOUR GRIT campaign on May 26

    • Join TCM on May 26 as we honor one of Hollywood's greatest stars, John Wayne, on his birthday with a full day of his films beginning at 6am. An icon of American individualism and courage, Wayne is perhaps best known for his work in the Western and war genres--where his image as the direct (sometimes gruff) yet always just and strong hero has become the stuff of screen legend for generations of film fans. Our tribute begins with an early Wayne film, Ride Him, Cowboy (1932) and continues through McLintock! (1963) at 5:45pm ET.

      The day of programming is also in support of the John Wayne Cancer Foundation's Show Your Grit campaign, which kicks off on May 26. The John Wayne Cancer Foundation (JWCF) was created by his family in honor of Wayne's memory with a mission to bring courage, strength and grit to the fight against cancer. For 25 days, beginning on John Wayne's birthday and ending on Father's Day, June 19th, the John Wayne Cancer Foundation challenges you to #ShowYourGrit on social media to raise awareness and honor those who have shown courage, strength, and grit in the face of cancer.

      To learn more about the John Wayne Cancer Foundation and to join the John Wayne movement please visit http://johnwayne.org/.

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Alan Ladd: The 1940s Collection DVD
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The Ghost and Mrs. Muir on DVD
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Hard-boiled detective Sam Spade gets caught up in the murderous...
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  • Wednesday, March 20, 2011

  • Removed: 10:00pm Springfield Rifle
    12:00pm Casablanca
    Added: 1:00pm Virginia City
    12:15pm Casablanca
  •  
  • Wednesday, March 20, 2011

  • Removed: 10:00pm Springfield Rifle
    12:00pm Casablanca
    Added: 1:00pm Virginia City
    12:15pm Casablanca
  •  
  • Wednesday, March 20, 2011

  • Removed: 10:00pm Springfield Rifle
    12:00pm Casablanca
    Added: 1:00pm Virginia City
    12:15pm Casablanca