Back in August, I wrote about some of last year’s best Blu-ray reissues. Here’s a few more 2024 releases worth your consideration:
City of Hope (Sony) – John Sayles’ sprawling 1991 drama about urban decay and political corruption (beautifully shot by Robert Richardson) is set in fictional Hudson City, New Jersey (Cincinnati stands in). Vincent Spano plays the central character, the ne’er-do-well son of a property developer (Tony Lo Bianco) who has dubious ties with local mobsters. Utilizing his patented network narrative structure, Sayles weaves in many of his pet themes, such as family ties, culture clash, tests of faith, class warfare and local politics.
There are similarities with the previous year’s Bonfire of the Vanities; but this is a far superior film. I see City of Hope as a precursor to The Wire. The populous cast (uniformly excellent) includes Chris Cooper, Joe Morton, Angela Bassett, David Straithairn, and Gina Gershon.
Save the commentary track by Sayles, Sony’s Blu-ray edition is bereft of extras, but features a nice high-def transfer. I’m just happy to see this nearly forgotten gem get a long-overdue home video release (to my knowledge, it was never even issued on DVD).
Happiness (Criterion) – It’s difficult to describe the sensibilities of writer-director Todd Solondz, which tend to hover somewhere near the intersection of Wes Anderson and David Lynch. To wit: There is something oddly endearing about the characters in this black comedy…yet be warned there are some very, very, very bad things going on beneath these blue suburban skies (this ain’t Penny Lane).
In a setup reminiscent of Woody Allen’s Hannah and her Sisters, Solondz centers his story on the travails of a trio of adult siblings (Jane Adams, Lara Flynn Boyle and Cynthia Stevenson), their squabbling parents (Ben Gazzarra and Louise Lasser), and a number of friends, neighbors and co-workers in their orbit (believe me-the similarities end there).
The three bravest performances in the film (and that’s saying a lot) belong to the late Seymour Hoffman (in one of his more underrated turns), Dylan Baker, and Camryn Manheim. Also in the cast: Jared Harris, Elizabeth Ashley, Molly Shannon, and Jon Lovitz (Lovitz nearly steals the movie in the memorably audacious opening scene).
Admittedly, this film may not be everyone’s cup of tea (be prepared for that “cringe” factor) but if you’re OK with network narratives involving nothing but completely fucked-up individuals, this is your ticket. It’s a veritable merry-go-round of modern dysfunction.
Criterion’s 4K digital restoration is gorgeous (although you may find yourself wishing there was less clarity and detail in some scenes). Extras include new interviews with Solondz and cast member Dylan Baker and an essay by screenwriter-novelist Bruce Wagner.
Invasion of the Body Snatchers (Kino) – While there have been three remakes over the decades (Philip Kaufman’s 1978 Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Abel Ferrara’s 1993 Body Snatchers, and the one I have yet to see, Oliver Hirshbiegel’s 2007 The Invasion), I have a particular soft spot for the original 1956 sci-fi classic.
Directed by the versatile (and prolific) Don Siegel and adapted from Jack Finney’s novel The Body Snatchers by Daniel Mainwaring, the story is set in a sleepy California burg, which gets seeded by extraterrestrial spores that quickly germinate into people-sized pods. Each pod is able to replicate a human being, provided it is in close proximity to someone who remains fast asleep during the process. Once the host body is sapped, it is discarded, leaving behind a perfect physical copy devoid of personality; essentially they become malleable automatons, serving the whims of the aliens.
Kevin McCarthy gives an iconic performance as a doctor who is the first person to realize what is happening (of course, nobody believes him, until it’s too late). The film is huge on atmosphere (nice night-by-night work from DP Ellsworth Fredricks helps sustain a mood of dread and paranoia). Genuine chills and thrills abound throughout.
What I like about the 1956 original is that is very much of its time, vis a vis the sociopolitical subtexts. The Cold War era was in full play; one gets a sense of allusions and commentary regarding the Red Scare and the bland “Leave it to Beaver” conformity of the era.
I’ve owned the film on DVD and a previous Blu-ray edition; but Kino’s “4K Scan of the Best Available 35mm Elements” lives up to it’s billing, as it’s the best print I’ve seen to date on home video. Features include a choice of the 2.00:1 or 1.85:1 version, both in newly remastered 1080P HD, and 4 commentary tracks (2 of them new).
Looking for Mr. Goodbar (Vinegar Syndrome) – Considering that she was still basking in the critical accolades for her audience-pleasing Oscar-winning performance as the kooky and lovable Annie Hall, it was a bold career move for Diane Keaton to immediately follow it up with a leap into the relative darkness of Looking for Mr. Goodbar.
Writer-director Richard Brooks adapted his 1977 drama/neo-noir from a novel by Judith Rossner (which was based on the sensationalized real-life 1973 murder of a 28-year old NYC schoolteacher). Keaton gives an outstanding performance as a young woman with a repressive Catholic upbringing who moves to a seedy downtown apartment to escape the verbal abuse and restrictive rules laid down by her tyrannical father (Richard Kiley).
Her newfound sense of freedom and self-confidence sparks a sexual awakening; she soon slips into a double-life, teaching deaf children at an inner-city school by day, and cruising the singles bars at night looking for casual sex (and discovering recreational drugs along the way). When she begins juggling relationships with two men (Richard Gere and William Atherton), her life begins to take a darker turn. Tuesday Weld gives one of her best performances as Keaton’s sister.
The film divided critics at the time; some were upset at Brooks’ deviation from Rossner’s novel (I can’t speak for that, as I’ve never read it). Others appeared chagrined that the film (for them at least) lacked a moral center. Speaking as someone who turned 21 the year the film came out, I’d say it captures the zeitgeist of the “Me Decade” to a tee; I see it as a companion piece to John Badham’s Saturday Night Fever.
Vinegar Syndrome has assembled a nice package, which includes a 4K UHD and a Blu-ray disc (both restored from the original 35mm camera negative). Lots of extras, including new and archival interviews, a commentary track, and a number of essays (visual and written).
Real Life (Criterion – This underrated 1979 gem from writer-director Albert Brooks presaged Christopher Guest & company’s mockumentary franchise by at least a decade. There is a direct tie-in; the screenplay was co-written by future Guest collaborator Harry Shearer (along with Brooks’ long-time collaborator, Monica McGowan Johnson).
Real Life is a brilliant take-off on the 1973 PBS series, An American Family (which can now be tagged as the original “reality TV” show). Brooks basically plays himself: a neurotic, narcissistic comedian who decides to do a documentary depicting the daily life of a “perfect” American family. After vetting several candidates (represented via a montage of hilarious “tests” conducted at a behavioral studies institute), he decides on the Yeager family of Phoenix, Arizona (headed by ever-wry Charles Grodin, who was born for this role).
The film gets exponentially funnier as it becomes more about the self-absorbed filmmaker himself (and his ego) rather than his subjects. Brooks takes jabs at Hollywood, and at studio execs in particular. If you’ve never seen this one, you’re in for a real treat.
Criterion does a bang-up job with the 4K digital restoration. Extras include new interviews with Brooks and with Frances Lee McCain (who plays Grodin’s wife) and an essay by film critic A. S. Hamrah.
Stuck for something to watch on movie night? Check out the Den of Cinema archive.
— Dennis Hartley