For the week of February 12th, Metro Goldwyn Mayer is bringing Skyfall to Blu-ray. The latest installment in the venerable James Bond franchise netted the studio a pretty penny - over $1 billion worldwide and counting - and to be sure, the movie offers Bond fans all the genre tropes they've come to expect, from sultry femme fatales (Naomie Harris and Bérénice Marlohe take top honors), to delightfully overblown action sequences (the opening car-motorcycle-train chase is one for the ages, as is a finale that plays homage to both Home Alone and Sam Peckinpah's Straw Dogs), to a sneering, flamboyant Big Bad (Javier Bardem, attacking the part like a fey version of Heath Ledger's Joker from The Dark Knight). However, it isn't just the action that distinguishes Skyfall; this is a borderline good movie (as opposed to just a good Bond movie), thanks to director Sam Mendes and cinematographer Roger Deakins presenting the screen carnage with genuine beauty, as well as a script - co-written by Hugo scribe John Logan - that takes pains to present its remarkable cast (joining series regulars Daniel Craig and Judi Dench are Ralph Fiennes, Albert Finney, and Cloud Atlas' Ben Whishaw) as more than one-dimensional ciphers.
In his Blu-ray review, Michael Reuben writes that "Skyfall delivered, and then some. Not only did it appear to kill off Bond in the spectacular pre-credit opening sequence - a maneuver that fooled no one, but that did have the bracing effect of reversing the usual formula, in which Bond typically succeeds in his pre-credit mission - but it also put Bond in the unaccustomed position of having to win back his MI6 spurs. And Skyfall gave us the single best Bond villain we've seen since . . . well, whoever happens to be your favorite Bond villain, in the person of Silva, the cyber-terrorist (among other things), gracefully incarnated by Javier Bardem, that specialist of evil, who has repeatedly said in interviews that as a boy he always identified with the villains in Bond films. It shows."
Also hitting the HD format is Summit Entertainment's The Perks of Being a Wallflower. This adaptation of Stephen Chbosky's popular YA novel plays like gently warmed-over John Hughes; it's the tale of a sensitive outsider (Logan Lerman) trying to make it through the trials and tribulations of high school with the help of his two best friends, free-spirited Sam (the once-and-future Hermione Granger, Emma Watson) and her gay step-brother Patrick (Ezra Miller). None of this is revelatory material, though Chbosky - who also directed the film - certainly carries it off with real sensitivity, getting great performances from his three leads, with Miller a real standout; in a role 180 degrees removed from his We Need to Talk About Kevin psychopath, he makes Patrick the sardonic, wounded heart of the picture.
Jeffrey Kauffman's Blu-ray review notes that "if you're under 30 (and even better, close to 20), you're probably going to love The Perks of Being a Wallflower, warts and all. Those of us who have crossed the dreaded threshold into middle age will probably be less inclined to overlook the film's flaws. The best thing about this outing is the fine acting by Lerman, Watson, and a dedicated supporting cast. But Chbonsky might have needed a little "outside help" to more fully realize the transition from printed page to celluloid."
On Tuesday, the Criterion Collection is also host the high-definition debut - in the United States, anyways - of the Palme d'Or-nominated The Kid With a Bike. The film highlights the brand of heartfelt neorealism specific to its directors, Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne - the brothers Dardenne focus on the tentative, halting relationship between a preteen orphan and a vulnerable hairdresser. In films like Rosetta and La Promesse, the Dardennes maintain an objective distance from their tortured protagonists, choosing instead to realize their struggles in a docudrama-esque fashion, and The Kid With a Bike is no different, though one could argue that it is the brothers' sweetest, most affecting work. Thomas Doret's wayward youth and Cécile De France's uncertain guardian share genuine pathos and the fleeting hope that somehow, they might be able to make the other person's life better.
Svet Atanasov writes that "The film has all of the distinctive naturalistic qualities that earned the Dardenne Brothers their reputation...Despite the fact that the film is quite the emotional rollercoaster, there isn't even a whiff of melodrama. Cyril's anxiety and anger come and go in waves which are some of the most convincing I've seen from a young actor. Samantha's struggle to earn Cyril's trust is also believable - she understands how he feels but cannot always read his mind...There is an interesting fairy tale element in the film that slightly undermines its realism but it strengthens its message. It also allows the viewer to briefly reflect on everything that has happened in the film. The ending is optimistic but slightly ambiguous, and perhaps rightfully so."
Finally, we end the week with a slice of faux-grindhouse entertainment: The Man with the Iron Fists. A bloody, gleefully sexist mash-up of camp action and kung-fu madness, the movie is somewhat of a passion project for Wu-Tang Clan frontman RZA, who co-wrote, directed, and stars in the picture; after a series of long conversations with Hostel director Eli Roth, RZA structured The Man with the Iron Fists as an ode to the martial arts and Asian cinema classics that have fueled many of his creative ambitions. In a sense, it's his Grindhouse, though it pains me to say that The Man with the Iron Fists lacks the flair of that earlier Quentin Tarantino-Robert Rodriguez collaboration. It's too sloppy, too unfocused, and it mostly squanders a talented, eclectic cast (though Russell Crowe scores high marks as a boozy, whoring, amoral killer inspired by the late, great Ol' Dirty Bastard).
Kenneth Brown indicates the film's problems in his Blu-ray review, noting that "The Blacksmith lurches all over the place, the second act drags and almost stalls, and the entire experience wears out its welcome pretty fast (even faster if you choose the notably longer but notably more meandering and sporadic 107-minute Unrated Cut over its 95-minute theatrical counterpart). Unapologetic fans will undoubtedly emerge - some already have - and embrace The Man with the Iron Fists with as much enthusiasm as the director himself, fundamental flaws be damned. And I'll admit there is fun to be had, so long as you're willing to overlook a few gaping wounds in RZA's genre scrapper."