For the week of May 27th, Criterion is upgrading The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou to Blu-ray. For many Wes Anderson fans, The Life Aquatic is the weakest link in Anderson's body of work, though the film's aesthetic is certainly beyond reproach. This was Anderson's most lavish, ambitious project – dissolute Jacques Cousteau-wannabe Steve Zissou (Bill Murray, of course) travels the seas bonding with his supposedly long-lost son (Owen Wilson) and searching for the shark that ate his mentor (Seymour Cassel) – and he fills the screen with visual wonderments, including a giant cutaway model of Zissou's ship, madcap action sequences (prior to this year's The Grand Budapest Hotel, The Life Aquatic was Anderson's most violent endeavor), and surreal, stop-motion-animated aquatic lifeforms designed by Coraline director Henry Selick. Yet despite its many charms, The Life Aquatic doesn't have the same effortless magic of Anderson's best pictures. Murray has since revealed that the script was very much in flux during production, and it shows; Zissou's adventures have a rambling, episodic quality that are delightful in 5-10-minute bursts but never cohere into a satisfying narrative. The pursuit of the shark, for example, proves unexpectedly moving, but Zissou's relationship with Wilson's character falls flat, mostly due to Wilson delivering the most subdued, toneless performance of his entire career. Now that Anderson has rebounded, thanks to the triple threat of The Grand Budapest Hotel, Moonrise Kingdom, and Fantastic Mr. Fox, The Life Aquatic proves interesting as an example of the kind of big-scale flop that Anderson's filmmaking peers all made – this is his indulgence, his One From the Heart or New York, New York.
Svet Atanasov's Blu-ray review noted that the film "is virtually impossible to describe with simple words. Most of the time it feels like a very colorful dream which does not have a beginning, middle, or end - things just happen in it and some of them even make sense for as long as the film lasts. The balance between the funny and the sad, however, is very awkward, even for an Anderson film. Indeed, there are too many different subplots that unnecessarily expand the story in all sorts of different directions. Some focus on minor triumphs, others focus on minor failures. There is always a good dose of silliness infused in these subplots, but only a few actually work well enough to justify the expansion. Murray's character is supposed to be the heart and soul of the film, but after the initial rounds of odd lines the 'distractions' around him become far more interesting. For example, there is a Portuguese crew member (Seu Jorge) doing some really great covers of David Bowie songs, beautiful sea life (created by stop-motion animator Henry Selick), and even an overly energetic three-legged dog that manages to seriously upset [Jeff] Goldblum's character."
Also from Criterion comes Howard Hawks' classic Red River. The quintessential Hollywood auteur, Hawks moved between different genres like a master, and Red River is not only his first Western, it's also one of the genre's finest features. On the surface, it's a sweeping oater about how the trials and tribulations of a cattle drive – natural obstacles, duplicitous cowboys, and American Indian attacks – come between John Wayne's stubborn rancher Tom Dunson and his adopted son Matt (Montgomery Clift, in one of his first films). All of Hawks' signature moves are present: an emphasis on interpersonal relationships, a love of the professional at work, and a flair for snappy banter (thanks to screenwriters Borden Chase and Charles Schnee). What really makes Red River stick, however, are the intangibles. The sense of melancholy that Clift's perpetual outsider feels. The way that Joanne Dru's Tess Millay shifts her allegiances from Matt to Tom. The fire underneath Tom Dunson, and this element can't be overstated enough. This might be Wayne's finest hour (reportedly, after seeing the film, John Ford - Wayne's other favorite director - exclaimed, "I didn't know the big son of a bitch could act"), and he subverts his hardy Western hero into someone darker, more tortured. As the cattle drive progresses, Tom takes on the mythic dimensions of Ahab or King Lear, and it's a testament to both Wayne and Hawks that these associations flourish in such an entertaining feature. The Blu-ray contains Hawks' preferred cut of the film, a 127-minute version that's actually six minutes shorter than the version most readily available on TV and DVD.
In his Blu-ray review, Svet Atanasov commented that "An indisputable American classic, Howard Hawks' Red River is a film of immense beauty. The visuals, especially during the second act, where Dunson and his men begin their journey, are indeed impossible to describe with simple words. The epic atmosphere never leaves the film. Even the intimate scenes, such as the one where Garth and Millay warm up to each other, are shot with tremendous sense of style. In the overwhelming majority of the westerns from the same era the focus of attention is typically on the panoramic visuals, but in Red Riverthe quiet moments are just as carefully observed by the camera. Based on Borden Chase's story ['Blazing Guns on the Chisholm Trail,' first published in] The Saturday Evening Post, Red River was Clift's debut film (though it was The Search that introduced the young actor to American audiences because Red River's release was delayed due to legal issues). In 1949, the film earner two Oscar nominations, one for Best Writing (Chase), and another for Best Film Editing (Christian Nyby)."
Sony Pictures is bringing Gambit to Blu-ray. This crime comedy, which centers on an art curator (Colin Firth) plotting a con against his bullying employer (a game Alan Rickman), is actually a remake of the 1966 caper of the same name, though as remakes go, this one looked good on paper. Along with Firth and Rickman, the new Gambit boasts a cast that includes Cameron Diaz, Stanley Tucci, Cloris Leachman, and Tom Courtenay and – better still! – a screenplay penned by Oscar-winning filmmakers Joel and Ethan Coen. That last detail is a big selling point for many viewers, yet under director Michael Hoffman's hand, Gambit doesn't satisfy as a remake or as a slice of Coen Brothers-lite. At a svelte eighty-nine minutes, Gambit feels too inconsequential, and the perfunctory nature of Firth's disintegrating plans doesn't satisfy (so much of his scheme ends up riding on an extended pantsless gag). Plus, very little of the Coens' signature brand of humor comes across on-screen; the script has some fun with rodeo queen Diaz's speech and mannerisms, but that's about it. This new Gambit can't compete, though in its defense, how could it? Along with The Italian Job and The Ipcress File, the 1966 Gambit is one of Michael Caine's most enjoyable thrillers from the 1960s: it has great star chemistry (Caine and Shirley MacLaine are wonderful together), tons of suspense, and one of the great plot twists of all time. The new version just can't measure up to near-perfection, particularly with regard to that twist – when an episode of Cougar Town can reference it better than the official remake can, something's afoot.
Martin Liebman commented that "the film features an entire parade of recycled gags and plot devices that combine to further the story and, supposedly, generate laughter (and there's even a fart joke for good measure). The movie feels rather stale, but the Coen Brothers manage to squeeze out just enough story interest and characterization to make it seem a little less tedious and tiresome than it really is. Here's a movie that literally tells its story three times - once in a quick voiceover, again compactly and as a product of the imagination, and again as it really unfolds - but maintains a whiff of freshness as it does so, even as it relies on countlessly lame, recycled, and overdone gags to make up for its lack of structural novelty. Even within its own, somewhat unique jokes the film falls flat. There's a recurring gag in which Colin Firth cannot find a comfortable place to sit in Alan Rickman's office. It works as a throwaway, but the rest of the movie feels so unimaginatively put together that after the second or third time it becomes a point of focal anticipation, not something that happens spontaneously. Ditto another recurring gag in which Firth's neighbor punches him in the face. The movie is really about Firth's follies first (say that five times fast) and the rest of its story second."
Finally, Drafthouse Films is handling the Blu-ray release of Cheap Thrills. A bloody satire, the film stars Pat Healy (The Innkeepers) as Craig, a beleaguered family man who, facing eviction and unemployment, goes out for a drink and ends up reconnecting with his old high-school acquaintance Vince (Ethan Embry, in the best performance of his career); their drunken commiseration over life's pitfalls takes a dark turn, however, when they meet a rich married couple (David Koechner and Sara Paxton) more than happy to part with their own money…for a price. The beauty of the film is its steady escalation – director E.L. Katz lets Craig and Vince's psychological dilemmas reveal themselves gradually, with simple dares soon giving way to more horrifying depictions of desire and greed. In its own noirish, blackly comic way, Cheap Thrills says a lot more about American desperation in the capitalist system than a more traditional "prestige" venture like The Company Men. Now, I don't want to oversell Cheap Thrills too much. At heart, this is a modest picture, almost like a politically nastier and slightly extended episode of The Twilight Zone. But Katz and his four leads commit to the small-scale insanity of the project with aplomb, and it maintains its hard integrity to the bitter end. A nice little surprise.
Michael Reuben wrote that "Cheap Thrills may be one of the nastiest pieces of cinema in recent years, and I mean that as a compliment…Rarely has violence, both physical and psychological, been portrayed with such visceral impact onscreen. The performances may not win awards, but they'll stay with you for a long, long time. Even the sex scene is repellent. Cheap Thrills is the directorial debut of E.L. Katz, whose background is writing and producing in the horror industry, where his credits include Tobe Hooper's Mortuary. The script was written by Trent Haaga, author of Deadgirl, and David Chirchirillo, an aspiring horror director; Katz provided uncredited rewrites. Despite these origins, however, Cheap Thrills isn't a horror film, although it borrows techniques familiar from the genre. Its makers consider Cheap Thrills to be a black comedy, although, as co-star David Koechner observes at one point, maybe viewers are laughing simply because they need to release their anxiety. Much of the film's inspiration comes from reality TV, which, it could be argued, has been covertly ripping off horror films from the beginning. Part of the fascination of reality TV is its ability to reveal people who look normal on the surface as freaks and monsters underneath. The same documentary style of photography that creates the illusion of reality for countless TV shows is also the trademark of "found footage" horror. Which came first, The Blair Witch Project or the first version of Survivor?"