In my 2016 review of the documentary All Things Must Pass: The Rise and Fall of Tower Records, I wrote:
Those of a certain persuasion (borderline OCD music collectors) and/or of a certain age (ahem, twice) may tend to get more misty-eyed toward the end of the doc than the average viewer. Again, it is not the most dynamically produced film, but its heart is in the right place. And if you miss the ritual of pawing through those bins, ogling the cover art and skimming the liner notes and track listing on the back, all the while breathing in that singularly intoxicating bouquet of shrink wrap and petroleum product-feel free to browse.
Finding myself even more of a “certain age” in 2025, I’m doing a lot of “morbid math” these days. For example, I have a Blu-ray/DVD collection of 4,000 discs. I turned 69 in April. To re-watch one of them per day would take me 10.9 years. If I began today with Abba: The Movie and proceeded in alphabetical order, I’d be celebrating my 80th birthday with a screening of Costa-Gavras’ Z . That is…if I make it to 80, (insert favorite deity of your choice here) willing.
Morbid math. Or as the insurance industry calls it…Thursday.
I suppose I should get to the point (as I’ve probably already lost most readers by now). Collecting physical media is tons o’ fun, but it does take up physical space; and if you’re a lifelong apartment dweller like me, I don’t need to tell you “space” is finite (you need to leave room for sleeping and such). That’s why I adopted a policy several years ago: Buy a movie, trade a movie (or donate one to charity). The lion’s share of my purchases are Blu-ray upgrades of titles I already own on DVD anyway, which keeps potential hoarder angst at bay (therefore, I prefer to think of my self as an “organized hoarder”, since I am willing to let go).
You’re not buying any of this, are you? As Elliot Gould says in The Long Goodbye, “It’s OK with me.” What can I say…collectors gotta collect. You’ve suffered enough, so here’s some news you can actually use-a few of the best Blu-ray reissues of 2025 (so far). Happy hoarding!
Let’s Get Lost (Kino Classics) – The life of horn player/vocalist Chet Baker is a tragedian’s dream; a classic tale of a talented artist who peaked early, then promptly set about self-destructing. Sort of the Montgomery Clift of jazz, he was graced by the gods with an otherworldly physical beauty and a gift for expressing his art. By age 24 he had already gigged with Stan Getz, Charlie Parker and Gerry Mulligan. He began chasing the dragon in the 1950s, leading to jail time and a career slide.
There are conflicting versions of the circumstances that led to a brutal beating in 1968, but the resultant injuries to his mouth impaired his playing abilities. While he never kicked the substance abuse, he eventually got his mojo back, and enjoyed a resurgence of his career in his final decade (he was only 58 when he died).
The nodded-out Chet Baker we see in Bruce Weber’s extraordinary warts-and-all 1988 documentary (beautifully shot in B&W) is a man who appears several decades older than his chronological age (and sadly, as it turned out, has about a year left to live). Still, there are amazing (if fleeting) moments of clarity, where we get a glimpse of the genius that still burned within this tortured soul.
One scene in particular, where Weber holds a close up of Baker’s ravaged road map of a face as he croons a plaintive rendition of Elvis Costello’s “Almost Blue”, has to be one of the most naked, heartbreaking vocal performances ever captured on film. Haunting and one-of-a-kind, this is a must-see. The film snagged a well-deserved 1989 Critics Prize at the Venice Film Festival.
Kino Classic’s 2025 Blu-ray edition sports a beautiful 4K picture restoration and newly remixed audio (noticeable improvements over Metrodome’s 2008 Region 2 DVD). The package also features a number of Weber’s short films. It would have been nice to include the two Weber-directed Chet Baker music videos that are on the 2008 DVD (which also contains two short films curiously not included on the Kino Blu-ray)…but that’s a minor quibble, as I was just happy to see this fabulous doc get an upgrade.
Night Moves (Criterion Collection) – Set in Los Angeles and the sultry Florida Keys, Arthur Penn’s 1975 sleeper stars the late Gene Hackman as a world-weary private investigator with a failing marriage, who becomes enmeshed in a case involving battling ex-spouses, which soon slides into incest, smuggling and murder.
As always, Hackman’s character work is top-notch. Also with Jennifer Warren (in a knockout, Oscar-worthy performance), Susan Clark, Edward Binns, Harris Yulin, James Woods and Melanie Griffith (her first credited role). Alan Sharp’s intelligent, multi-layered screenplay parallels the complexity of the P.I.’s case with ruminations on the equally byzantine mystery as to why human relationships almost seem engineered to fail. One of the best neo-noirs of the 1970s.
Criterion’s 2025 reissue marks the third edition of this film I’ve owned; the image quality of the new 4K digital restoration handily tops all previous home video versions. Extras include a new audio commentary by Matthew Asprey Gear, author of Moseby Confidential (a terrific read for fans of the film), a new audio interview with actor Jennifer Warren, a written essay by critic Mark Harris, and more.
Sorcerer (Criterion Collection) – The time is ripe for a re-appraisal of William Friedkin’s expertly directed, terrifically acted update of Henri-Georges Clouzot’s classic 1953 noir, The Wages of Fear. This existential action adventure (which I think is closer in spirit to Herzog’s Aguirre, the Wrath of God than Clouzot’s original film) was greeted with indifference by audiences and critics when it was released in 1977. Maybe it was the incongruous title, which likely led many to assume it would be in the vein of his previous film (and box-office hit), The Exorcist. Then again, it was tough for any other film to garner attention in the immediate wake of Star Wars.
Roy Scheider heads a superb international cast as a desperate American on the lam in South America, who signs up for a job transporting a truckload of nitroglycerin through rough terrain. Excellent screenplay by Walon Green. Tangerine Dream provides a memorable soundtrack. They don’t make ‘em like this anymore-a genuinely pulse-pounding adventure that slips in a fair amount of subversive political commentary.
Criterion’s 4K restoration displays a marked improvement in image quality over the relatively bare bones 2016 Warner Blu-ray edition. Extras include the excellent full-length 2018 documentary Friedkin Uncut, a new conversation between filmmaker James Gray and film critic Sean Fennessey, a written essay by film critic Justin Chang, and more.
The Three Musketeers / The Four Musketeers (Criterion Collection) – I try to avoid utilizing trite descriptive phrases like “rollicking adventure” – but prithee forgive me, good sir or madam if I doth declare Richard Lester’s diptych to be a right rollicking adventure, indeed (bet you’re glad I didn’t say “bawdy romp”). This umpteenth adaptation of Alexandre Dumas’s classic swashbuckler (screenplay by George MacDonald Fraser) was filmed in one shoot but released in 1973 and 1974.
Aside from some light court intrigue, both films tend to forgo any deep narrative exposition in favor of acrobatic swordplay and door-slamming slapstick…but are you not entertained? How could you not be with such a fabulous cast: Musketeers Michael York, Oliver Reed, Frank Finlay, and Richard Chamberlain are ably supported by the likes of Raquel Welch, Faye Dunaway, Geraldine Chaplin, Charlton Heston, and Roy Kinnear. Colorful, exciting, frequently hilarious and rich in period detail, it’s perfect escapism.
Criterion’s 2025 double disc set features gorgeous new 4K restorations of both films. Extras include a new documentary by critic David Cairns, a 1973 featurette with behind-the-scenes footage of director Richard Lester, and a written essay by film critic Stephanie Zacharek.
Withnail & I (Criterion Collection) – Writer-director Bruce Robinson’s 1987 study of two impoverished actors slogging through 1969 London with high hopes and low squalor has earned a devoted cult following (guilty as charged). Richard E. Grant excels as the decadently wasted Withnail, ably supported by Paul McGann (he would be the “I”).
The two flat mates, desperate for a break from their cramped, freezing apartment and mutual descent into creeping fear and paranoia, take a trip to the country, where Withnail’s rich eccentric uncle (Richard Griffiths) keeps a cottage. There are so many quotable lines (“We want the finest wines available to humanity. And we want them here, and we want them now!” or “We’ve gone on holiday by mistake.”). Ralph Brown nearly steals the film as Danny the drug dealer.
Previous DVD and Blu-ray editions have been frustratingly problematic in terms of image and/or sound quality (I think I’ve owned them all), but the 2025 Criterion edition finally puts those issues to rest with a proper 4K restoration (granted, the film was purposely shot in low light and muted brown and grey tones to match the characters’ melancholic mood; still, this is the best print I’ve seen to date). Extras include two audio commentaries, a new short with Robinson and Grant, and Withnail and Us (1999), a documentary on the making of the film.
(Hot tip: Amazon is currently pricing all these titles at 50% off-likely ending July 31).
More reviews at Den of Cinema
—Dennis Hartley
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