Reviewer: Craig Phillips
Rating (out of 5):
Dirty Harry ****
Magnum Force ***
The Enforcer **½
Sudden Impact ***
The Dead Pool **½

If you watch enough Dirty Harry movies consecutively -- say, all five of them, as I did this past week, in viewing the newly remastered Dirty Harry Deluxe Collector's Edition from Warner Brothers -- you either go mad, or you start to spot a number of interesting patterns. Such as:

Reviewer: Monica Peck
Rating (out of 5): ****½

The Delirious Fictions of William Klein

This remarkable trio of films - now out on DVD thanks to the Eclipse Collection, a director-centric arm of Criterion -- needs no introduction to those already familiar with the ultra-fabulous visual oeuvre of William Klein, whose satirical visions have been called prescient by so many. Yet, perhaps any artist of note is in some way prescient, and prescience itself is neither virtue nor vice in a world without grand narrative.

So, what is so remarkable about Klein? These three movies pry open claustrophobic worlds with all too familiar social and political structures - and familiarity breeds contempt. What keeps us watching is the energy, the sheer aesthetic force that empowers each frame, each worthy of a Vogue cover, sent into our drab-weary retina. From the runway models clad in swirling metal in Who Are you, Molly Magoo? to the 'fashionably green' Ikea-esque furniture in The Model Couple to the stars-and-stripes retail cheerleaders in Mr. Freedom, Klein uses our perceptions of what is chic - and consumable, as such - to point out inequities, injustices, and hypocrisies that occur simply through the structure of systems themselves. By virtue of the very fabric of his vision, Klein coerces us into examining our own ways of being in the world, as citizens of a post-industrial, televised (and now streaming) universe.

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Reviewer: James van Maanen
Diabolically Yours -- Rating (out of five): **½
Our Story: ****
The Gypsy: ***
The Swimming Pool: **
The Widow Couderc: ***½

I think you'd need to be well over your mid-century mark to rise to attention at the mention of Alain Delon. This mildly famous (in America, that is; in Europe he achieved blockbuster status) French star, who rose to international prominence on the coattails of great films such as Rene Clement's Plein Soleil (Purple Noon) and Visconti's Rocco and His Brothers, followed by The Leopard and Antonioni's L'Eclisse, was never much noted for his acting ability. Though he was a perfectly competent actor--sometimes much more than that--no matter what acting roles he or his directors or producers chose (he finally took over all three reins himself), nothing ever began to eclipse Delon's true ace in the hole: his amazing, downright staggering beauty.

That face--the body wasn't bad either--set hearts and lower extremities aflutter around the world. Delon also possessed a real charm, which he used in an interesting fashion from role to role--sometime more, sometimes less, often peeping out from under wraps, more often front and center. The charm seemed effortless, and it drew audiences to him as surely as has the charm of other popular actors from Gable and Grant to Clooney to DiCaprio. Yet none of these could match Delon for pure facial beauty. He was, for lack of a better comparison, the male Elizabeth Taylor. And as beautiful as he was, he still came across as a straight man--even when, in some of his film roles (Purple Noon, for instance) he played a bit toward bi- or pan-sexuality.

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Reviewer: Elizabeth Hille
Rating (out of 5): ****½

Nicholas Roeg's 1973 supernatural thriller, based on the short story by Daphne du Maurier, Don't Look Now remains creepy. Set in wintertime Venice, the film slowly chronicles the dismantling of Laura (Julie Christie) and John's (Donald Sutherland) guilt in the aftermath of their young daughter's drowning. Without giving too much away, the bare bones of the plot is simple: The child drowns in her red raincoat in their backyard, the couple go to Venice because John has work there as an architect restoring an old church, Laura meets two elderly sisters—one has the gift of second sight—and begins spending time with them, which alleviates some of her grief. John's unhappy about this and it adds tension to their marriage.

While it's true that time might have tamed some of the film's eroticism and terror, time has not eroded Roeg's ability to create labyrinthine anxiety and atmospheric tension though his direction and editing. The decaying, claustrophobic streets of Venice provide the perfect setting for how guilt is disintegrating the couples' psyches, albeit in different ways. Critics of the film have complained about its pace, calling it plodding, but without the slowness, the actors wouldn't have been able to carefully reveal the cracks in how the shared grief affects Laura and John together, and separately. Roeg incrementally induces paranoia without the viewer realizing exactly why she's getting creeped out.

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Reviewer: Walt Opie
Rating (out of 5): ***

Shogun Assassin 2: Lightning Swords of Death opens with a scene of our hero, Ogami Itto (a.k.a Lone Wolf), getting into a ferryboat somewhere in the Japanese countryside. There are a number of other folks in the boat and everything looks normal except for one oddity—a baby cart. Ogami Itto is traveling with an odd, heavy-duty baby cart that his young son (with a funky haircut) rides around in. The cart has wheels, but also floats, so when the ferryman protests that he can’t put his cart in the boat, Ogami Itto simply tosses the cart into the water and ties it to the back of the boat--son and all--and away they go!

Keep your eye on that kid and his baby cart. They produce a lot of the fun to be had watching this re-released 1972 Japanese samurai flick, now with obnoxiously bad English dubbing ("The thing we like best is a good healthy woman between our legs," one guy is made to say.) The original title to this film was "Baby Cart to Hades"--a better name if you ask me--and it is actually the third installment of the Lone Wolf and Cub Series. (Baby Cart to Hades is available on DVD, for the original language version.) No matter though because this is not a mini-series and the drama is fairly straightforward. Eventually everybody in the territory is out to kill Ogami Itto, for reasons that seem rather secondary. He is a bit like Caine from the old American TV series Kung Fu; he walks the earth and trouble finds him wherever he goes. The good news is that he’s a master swordsman and fighter, and as played by Tomisaburo Wakayama, he is believable enough and carries off the fighting with at least a shred of natural grace and dignity.

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Reviewer: Tamara Lees
Rating (out of 5): ***½

Like Night Moves and Cutter's Way, Cisco Pike is a low-key Seventies character study once derided as a failure but now in crying need of a new audience. It also boasts a superb film debut from Kris Kristofferson (who'd been glimpsed in the previous year's The Last Movie, if you want to pick nits), at the time better known as a musician. Here he plays the titular character, also a musician and former idol who has hit the skids. He ends up dealing drugs to make money, and is blackmailed by a crooked cop (played by Gene Hackman - in perfect form, both natural and poignant) to unload pounds of weed in less than three days or he's screwed. Harry Dean Stanton plays a long lost pal and bandmate of Pike's who is now, unfortunately, a total junkie; Stanton is mesmerizingly good here, although he wouldn't be fully appreciated until years later.

Kristofferson also contributes several terrific songs to the soundtrack, while director Bill Norton (also making his debut) does a nice job creating an appropriately boozy atmosphere. Like those other films mentioned above, Cisco Pike captures the aimlessness and disillusionment after the promise the spirt of the 60s once held for many. But while some aspects of the film may appear ready for a time capsule, it still holds up surprisingly well - and cynicism never goes out of style.

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