Criterion Catch-Up 2, Part 5: Antichrist

Alright, after all those stoic documentaries and artsy dramas, I think it's time for something wilder.  How about a crazy psychodrama horror from Lars von Trier?  Criterion certainly has a release to fit that bill: 2009's Antichrist, starring Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg (Nymphomaniac, Melancholia).  There's a lot being explored in this one, with thoughtful writing, candid performances, gorgeous photography contrasted with some seriously gnarly images.

Whether or not this is a horror film depends how literally you take what you see on the screen.  I don't think Trier thinks witchcraft is real, naturally, but I also don't think he's trying to convince us they are within the world of his film either (in the sense that Tom Holland presumably doesn't actually believe in vampires, but within the context of Fright Night, he's telling us they're very real and just waiting to be invited into your home).  Here, He and She discuss the way women were perceived and persecuted as witches, and ultimately stumble into that perspective.

In the audio commentary, Trier and a film critic talk about how Antichrist deals with both the psychology of the characters and this mythology.  But I think our critic misses the central, unifying factor that the mythology was created, and recurs throughout different cultures, because it's born of our psychology.  So they aren't two separate poles on a spectrum which the film slides along in between.  The characters descend into the mythology because of our seemingly universal psychological nature.  To some degree, we're wired to slip into these belief systems.  ...Still, if you're after horror mood, gore and imagery, you'll certainly find some of the very best in Antichrist.

As to charges of misogyny, well, he obviously identifies with the female character here, not the male.  I mean, in one sense, this film is about how therapists are arrogant hypocrites who think they can understand and fix people whose issues are actually quite beyond them.  I mean, I certainly wouldn't presume to absolve Trier of whatever personal issues people accuse him of having.  But just in terms of this film, I think you're off base if you believe any finger he's pointing is directed at anyone but himself.

Now, it took a little while for Antichrist to hit DVD in the USA.  Maybe the controversy around the film had a hand in that, but that tends to be the way it goes for Trier's films.  So I imported Chelsea Cinema's 2010 DVD from the UK, which was a pretty loaded special edition.  Then, later in the year, Criterion announced their US edition, which I (eventually) wound up double-dipping for so I could own the film in HD.

2010 Chelsea DVD top; 2010 Criterion BD bottom.

So we're clearly using the same master, struck from the same digital DCP here.  Both transfers are 2.35; the color timing and everything else is identical.  The sole difference is the step up to HD.  This film was shot in 4k (meaning a UHD upgrade in the future wouldn't be an unreasonable hope), so there is definitely room to improve on the DVD.  There's no film grain to spy, but fine detail, like the hairs around Gainsbourg's face above, are distinct on the blu-ray, where they just kinda blur together into a common fuzz on Chelsea's release.  This is an often elegantly photographed film, with extreme close-ups and slow motion, asking you to really take in the image, making it a key film to see in high definition.

Chelsea's DVD has a Dolby 5.1 track plus, surprisingly an Italian dub with Italian and Danish subtitles (that's right, no English subs).  Criterion bumps the same 5.1 mix up to DTS-HD and replaces the two foreign sub tracks with optional English ones.

Chelsea's DVD was pretty packed with special features.  There's the commentary I mentioned earlier.  Trier always does great, insightful commentaries, and this is no exception.  And it has nine 'making of' featurettes, which you could essentially take as one feature-length (roughly 80 minutes) documentary broken up into nine chapters.  It also has on-camera interviews with both stars, Dafoe and Gainsbourg, and the trailer.  Criterion preserves all of that, and also conducts three additional on-camera interviews with Trier, Gainsburg (this one's almost 45 minutes) and Dafoe.  They also add two additional trailers and a 32-page booklet with an essay by British film scholar Ian Christie.

I mentioned it earlier, but I honestly don't see Criterion swinging back around to issue this on UHD (prove me wrong!).  Curzon might be more likely in the UK, but I don't hold out a lot of hope, and they probably wouldn't be able to license Criterion's exclusive interviews even if they did.  So if you don't already have this, you really can't miss.  Unless, of course, you just absolutely hate this movie.

Criterion Catch-Up 2, Part 4: General Idi Amin Dada: A Self Portrait

Crumb might've gone deeper, but 1974's General Idi Amin Dada: A Self Portrait went further.  Where Zwigoff's film peaks probably at Maxon Crumb confessing to molesting women in public with a creepy combination of regret and amusement, Dada is a true horror-show of a man; a remorseless mass murderer and quite possibly an actual cannibal.  You might recall Forest Whitaker's portrayal in the 2006 film The Last King of Scotland, but seeing the real man in a documentary with a shocking degree of access is even more haunting.  Not least because of how charming and likeable he proves to be.

The Self Portrait subtitle is somewhat ironic.  Director Barbet Schroeder (producer of several Eric Rohmer classics and featured actor in Beverly Hills Cop 3) was invited to Uganda from France to shadow and film Dada, where much was clearly staged for his benefit.  That resulted in a puff piece for Ugandan television.  But this is essentially a director's cut, the feature released internationally with all the things Dada didn't want shown, including footage the director could only safely put back after Dada's death.  We even see footage of him directing the cameraman himself.  This version is a scathing indictment and more importantly, a fascinating character study because it involves additional layers.  It's often funny; a truly once in a lifetime glimpse behind a dictatorship.

So Criterion's 2002 DVD was General Idi Amin Dada's debut on disc.  Eureka later put out a barebones DVD in the UK, but that was it until Criterion reissued it in HD with their 2017 blu-ray, which is still the film's sole BD release to this day.  Fortunately, it's pretty excellent.

2002 Criterion DVD top; 2017 Criterion BD bottom.

Crucially, unlike the other Criterions we've looked at in this Catch-Up, they've cooked up a whole new transfer for their BD upgrade of their own DVD.  Specifically, they scanned the original 16mm negative in 2k, and it's a huge improvement.  The framing is more than just the minor correction from 1.31:1 to 1.37:1, it pulls back to reveal even more information along the top as well as the sides.  Colors and shadows are bolder, edges are cleaner and detail is clearer.  Film grain is thoroughly represented and natural, which is more than I can say for some of the other blus in this series.  This is an upgrade even non-enthusiasts will appreciate.

Both discs feature the original mono with optional English subtitles, but dialogue is definitely clearer on the blu's new LPCM track.

Criterion's original DVD wasn't exactly a special edition, but it did include an (interlaced) interview with the director, where he helpfully tells the story behind the project.  That and an insert was it, though.  So it's nice that when they upgraded the disc, they kept the original director interview, but also conducted a new one.  In addition, they've interviewed a journalist about the real Dada and the history around the film.  It's still not exactly a packed special edition, but it does feel like a fuller overall experience, and it receives my highest unqualified recommendation.

Criterion Catch-Up 2, Part 3: Hedwig and the Angry Inch

2001's Hedwig and the Angry Inch is John Cameron Mitchell's career-making rock musical based on his 1998 stage show, itself based on a character he'd been performing as for several years before.  I first encountered it as another in a long line of must-see Killer Films produced by Christine Vachon, but it's turned out to be quite a cult hit.  Co-starring Michael Pitt (Bully, the Funny Games remake) and Andrea Martin (SCTV, Black Christmas), it's loud, queer, colorful, funny, tragic and substantially less recondite than you usually associate with the Criterion Collection.

Admittedly, in 2025, this film could be, and has been, described as problematic.  This is a story by a cis/ nb guy made well over twenty years ago.  Mitchell's tale is autobiographical in some senses, and a total fantasy in others; and crafting the perfect depiction of the trans experience doesn't seem to have been on his agenda.  It would incur some serious spoilers to get too into the specifics, so I'll just say that the whole concept of the "angry inch" isn't exactly PC, and Hedwig is a collection of troubling flaws that make him a dramatically dynamic and challengingly relatable character; but if you're looking for a role model, or even healthy representation, this may not be what you're looking for.  Like, you probably wouldn't list characters with names like "Fat Man" and "Tranny Hooker" in your closing credits today unless you were being funded by The Daily Wire.  So y'know, just so you're not taken by surprise: different times.

New Line released this as a new release DVD back in 2001 as part of their Platinum Series.  Apart from being released in a snapper case, it was all you could ask for at the time: anamorphic widescreen special edition.  And it was later reissued in a plastic amary case.  But by the time Criterion rolled around, it was high time for an HD option.  They released it on blu with an all new 4k restoration, which the enclosed booklet explains is "from the 35 mm original camera negative and a 35 mm interpositive."  Sadly, Criterion really dragged their feet getting into 4k Ultra HD, so there is no UHD option, but they did give us a pretty great blu.

2001 New Line DVD top; 2019 Criterion BD bottom.

So yeah, New Line's DVD was already anamorphic, widescreen at 1.81:1 and free of the common bugaboos like edge enhancement, combing or DNR.  But Criterion has done more than just bump it up to HD.  First , you can see they tweaked the AR to exactly 1.85:1, pulling out to reveal more image along all four edges in the process.  Increasing the resolution naturally sharpens up the image and makes lines cleaner, but colors are a little deeper, too.  Notice, for example, the yellows in that second set of shots.  What's more, many shadowy areas have been brightened to reveal more info, additional extras and things in the background.  Look at the far right-hand side of that first set of shots to see what I mean.  Some film grain is restored to the picture compared to the DVD, but it could definitely have been even better if Criterion had sprung for a proper 4k disc.

New Line might've gotten a little carried away with audio options, including a 5.1 DTS track, a 5.1 Dolby Digital track and a 2.0 Dolby Digital track.  Criterion just boils it down to the one 5.1 mix in DTS-HD.  Both discs also offer optional English subtitles.

New Line already had some great extras, especially their feature length The Story of Hedwig documentary, which tells the whole story of this project, from Mitchell's original small stage performances to the filming to the aftermath at festivals, etc.  It's a great doc that really takes you through everything.  There's also a very relaxed and candid commentary by Mitchell and his DP, a couple alternate/ deleted scenes (also with commentary) and the trailer.

Happily, all of this was secured by Criterion, because that documentary is an essential companion to this film.  And then they cooked up some more stuff, including a fun reunion of the key players, a half hour conversation between the composer and a music critic on the songs of this film, three new interviews with Mitchell, the costume designer and the make-up artist.  There's also a 20-minute Sundance channel featurette with a bunch of exclusive cast and crew interviews, and it includes a glossy 52-page booklet with notes by critic Stephanie Zacharek.

So Criterion's blu is a pretty fantastic upgrade of an already high quality DVD.  The only reason to maybe consider holding off on it is the hope that Criterion will eventually pull their head out and give us a proper UHD.  But it's already been six years, so if that's coming, it's not doing so in a hurry.

Criterion Catch-Up 2, Part 2: Crumb

"Presented" by David Lynch, 1994's Crumb is a documentary that will have you saying "wow."  Underground comic pioneer Robert Crumb is already an interesting subject for a documentary, and this film isn't afraid to get into it with his exes, critics and the man himself   This is no puff piece that's going to gloss over the accusations of sexism and racism in his work; it charges headfirst into the worst of it.  But then as director Terry Zwigoff (Ghost World) gets increasingly incredibly candid footage with Crumb's family and delves into their issues of abuse and depression, it goes beyond the man's work to deeper places than almost any documentary about anybody has gone.  The film's most memorable scene for me isn't even about Robert, but his brother Charles, as they discuss his childhood artwork and show how his mental illness transformed his illustrative style into something unique and fascinating.

I've actually had a longer history of re-dipping on this title, but unfortunately I sold off my first two DVD copies before I started this site.  See, originally Crumb was released on DVD by Columbia Tri-Star in 1999.  It was barebones and mis-framed at 1.66:1, but I felt lucky to be able to replace my laserdisc of this quirky doc at all.  Little did I know how well it would wind up getting treated on home video over the years.  Because then in 2006, Sony upgraded it to a special edition, which fixed the framing and added a audio commentary by Zwigoff and Roger Ebert.  I figured that would be the last word.  But then, in 2010, Criterion announced their own edition with a "new, restored high-definition transfer" and over 50 minutes of unused footage.  Well, hot dog, I was in again.  That was early enough in the blu-ray era, though, that I was still buying DVD versions, so that's what I opted for (and that disc I do still have for this comparison).  Eventually, I realized I couldn't live without the proper BD, though, so I quadruple-dipped.

2010 Criterion DVD top; 2010 Criterion BD bottom.

So I'm disappointed we don't still have the older transfers to compare, if only for the fun of it.  But there is an interesting difference between the Criterion DVD and blu even though they were released at the same time.  See, I left the negative space around the first set of shots to show, though they're both 1.33:1, the DVD is window-boxed, I guess out of concern for 4:3 TVs' overscan areas (something Criterion routinely used to take into account).  But they've trusted the BD transfer to go right to the vertical edges (it's still pillar-boxed, of course, because it's a fullscreen film).  So that was a little surprise.  Otherwise it's the same master with the natural boost in clarity with the jump to HD.  It was shot in 16mm, so there's not a ton more detail unveiled, but edges are definitely crisper on the blu.

Both discs offer the original mono in 2.0 with optional English subtitles (as I recall, so did both of the older DVDs), but the BD bumps it up to LPCM.  The audio's never exactly crystalline, but the lossless track has a little extra oomph, which can make it a little easier to make out tossed off moments of dialogue.

So the original Crumb DVD was barebones, and the second introduced that audio commentary by Zwigoff and Ebert.  Apart from a bunch of bonus trailers, that was it.  Well, happily, Criterion was able to preserve that commentary, as well as record one of their own - also with Zwigoff.  The two commentaries weren't recorded to compliment each other, so as you could imagine, there's some repetition between them.  But it's not too much; Ebert manages to make his track distinct, and both tracks have good info in them.  Then there's all that unused footage, which includes everything from Crumb and Zwigoff jamming with in their band together (an element not even mentioned in the doc) to a trip to the mall with his wife, and yes, more on his brothers' issues.  Criterion also includes a small stills gallery, a 28-page booklet with notes by critic Jonathan Rosenbaum and a fold-out reproduction of Charles Crumb's art test (as shown in the film).

Never say never, but as a 16mm documentary, I don't imagine a Crumb 4k is around the corner, so even though upgrades have taken me by surprise before, I feel comfortable saying Criterion's blu is probably going to be the definitive release for a long time  We probably have just a slightly better shot in asking for a BD upgrade of Louie Bluie instead.  But really, unless Zwigoff makes a new, attention-getting film, what you see is probably all we're getting.  So it's a good thing they ended on a strong disc here.

Criterion Catch-Up 2, Part 1: George Washington

Man, there's a whole lot of great Criterions I've been meaning to cover here, so I'm running another series of Catch-Ups (I did a mini-version back in 2017; but I've got more to cover).  So none of these are new releases, but in each case, the Criterion disc will still be the latest and best edition - I'm not gonna waste your time looking at out-dated discs - and compare them with a previous edition.  I plan on doing five or six of these, starting with 2000's George Washington, the feature film debut of David Gordon Green (Halloween 11-13, Pineapple Express), and still easily his best work.

What stands out in George Washington is its verité style, where non-professional child actors give very natural performances, authentically extemporizing as the film earnestly explores its poor, small-town setting.  That's then paired with a story that starts out as a compelling character study of the sort of child films usually ignore, and then takes a powerfully dramatic turn.  It's a combination of elements other filmmakers have tried, but few find such success with, especially for first-timers.  The one weak spot is Paul Schneider, who's mixed in with the local non-actors to uneven effect.  It's more the writing that lets him down than his own performance - since seeing how good he was years later in Bright Star, I've had to let him off the hook for this - injecting him as a semi-comic Kevin Smith-style character, which just comes off as trying too hard to be clever or cute in a film that otherwise transcends such ambitions.  The bit of him having two hot dogs he can't find in his jumpsuit is an insult to the sincerity the actors in the other scenes are giving.  It's not enough to spoil the film, but it's a disappointment when it pops up.

Anyway, Criterion initially released this on DVD as a new release in 2002.  It was a pretty solid edition.  Then, as we entered the HD era, they put it out as a DVD/ BD combo-pack in 2014.  Finally, in 2021, they reissued the BD as a solo disc.  I've got the original DVD (well, not anymore; I've sold it... but not before scanning the cover and taking screenshots) and the combo-pack.  It's worth noting the back of the 2014 case simply refers to a "restored high-definition digital transfer," not a new scan.  Because it looks like they're using the same master.

2002 Criterion DVD top; 2014 Criterion middle; 2014 Criterion BD bottom.

So yeah, that means the DVDs are essentially the same discs twelve years later.  They're not exactly the same; they're sporting new labels and the menus are a little different.  But it's the same transfer, with the exact same brightness levels, color timing, contrast, etc.  But the BD does bump it up to HD, which gives it a legit boost in clarity.  Framed between 2.37 and 2.38:1, there's soft but visible film grain on the blu, but it's completely smeared away on the DVD.  The difference in resolution basically just breaks down to the DVD looking slightly out of focus.  This was shot on 35, though, so a 4k restoration could probably define the finer details even further.

All three discs include the original Dolby stereo mix with optional English subtitles, with the BD bumping it up to DTS-HD.

They didn't give us any new extras either, but that's okay, because the original DVD was pretty packed.  For starters, there's a rich audio commentary by Green with his cinematographer and Paul Schneider.  Then there's a lengthy deleted scene, also with commentary, and two early short films by Green.  One of them is a fifteen minute student film that's essentially a rough draft of George Washington, which also co-stars Schneider and has its own audio commentary.  And the second stars two of the other main actors from GW.  Then, there's a short film not by Green.  It's a fun little 60s oddity starring Clu Gulager that Green found inspirational. 

And that's not all.  There's a 2001 "cast reunion" video, a Charlie Rose interview with Green, the trailer, three easter eggs, which are essentially two bonus clips from the reunion and a photo gallery, and a fold-out leaflet with a director's statement and an essay by controversial critic Armond White and a director's statement.  The BD resizes the insert, but otherwise it's the same thing.  One technical different you might spot between the 2002 and 2014 editions is that there are no longer clickable easter eggs on the "Cast Reunion" menu page.  Don't worry, though, the BD still has 'em.  Now they just play automatically at the end of the cast reunion video, rather than including them as separate little video files.

Looking back at it in 2025, George Washington still holds up and makes you wish Green would go back to projects like this.  He shows talent in all of his films, and you can find echoes of the particular magic seen here in a few of them, like Prince Avalanche or Undertow.  But then there'll be a doofy plot-line about stolen gold coins or something and it's like, nope, this ain't it.  Lightning has yet to strike twice, and something tells me Exorcist: Deceiver won't strike the mark either.  So I'll continue to check out everything he does, but this is the one I treasure in my personal collection.