John Cassavetes' Love Streams

I think Love Streams is my favorite Cassavetes film, although that can be tough to call since his films have the ability to make you feel like whichever film you're currently watching is your favorite when you're caught up in them. But Love Streams has the scenes I keep going back to in my mind, especially the heart-breakingly frantic desperation of Gena Rowlands who has to make her husband and daughter laugh in sixty seconds in order to keep their love. Cassavetes is always great, and of course Seymour Cassel is perfect in his role, but it's really the portrayal of Rowland's character that transcends traditional cinematic storytelling to a level of arresting, lasting art.

Update 8/14/24: It's Update Week 2024, and I've got my hands on Kino's A Child Is Waiting DVD, so here it is.
For the longest time, our only option for Love Streams was a 2004 French DVD from Cinemalta, which you could either get separately or paired with a much earlier Cassavetes film, A Child Is Waiting. That's not such a complaint, as it was a nice set with quality transfers and even a few English language extras. But in 2014, Criterion finally brought Streams to the US, and in a big way: a really lavish blu-ray/ DVD combo pack (also available in separate DVD and BD releases) featuring a fresh 2k scan and a bunch of great new special features.
Meanwhile, Child remains unreleased stateside, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was somewhere on Criterion's list as well. It's a solid and critically acclaimed film, but it doesn't feel like "a Cassavetes film" at all. It's pretty emotionally affecting, with strong lead performances by Burt Lancaster and Judy Garland who proves she can do more than sing (though they do have her sing a teensy bit, just because). It does feel like it's taking the easy route tugging on heartstrings by having sweetheart Garland as a new teacher coming to care for a cute classroom of mentally challenged children. You can always rely on Cassavetes from getting overly sentimental, but I don't have that same confidence in screenwriter Abby Mann.

So let's take a look at these discs and see how tall the new 2k transfer stands up over the old edition. And since the Criterion set is DVD and blu, let's side-by-side those, too.
Cinemalta DVD on top; Criterion blu-ray on bottom.
That's a nice improvement. The French disc  The Cinemalta disc is pillarboxed for an anamorphic 1.62:1, whereas the Criterion is now slightly letterboxed to 1.85:1. Neither framing looks particularly right or wrong, though. The bigger difference is just how dirty the old image looks compared to the new scan, like Criterion literally washed the print with soap and water. I previously thought this, being a low budget indie feature was just shot on cheaper stock, but now I see how nice it can look. Criterion has more detail, a smoother yet sharper image and more detail in the blacks. I had always been happy with my DVD, but Criterion really went the distance here. The uncompressed audio is a nice bump up, too.
Criterion DVD on top, and their blu-ray on bottom.
And here's the Criterion DVD matched against the blu. Obviously it's the same transfer, but you can see the digital pixelation in Gena's face and hair that just comes off as natural film grain on the blu.  Oh, and they've added optional English subtitles, too.
Cinemalta DVD on top; Kino DVD on bottom.
A Child Is Waiting
, meanwhile, is 1.68:1, similar to their DVD of Love Streams, but this time it's not anamorphic, which is disappointing. Also, the subtitles are forced (they weren't on Love Streams). So it's alright but underwhelming. They also have the trailer for Child on here, also with forced subs.

In 2015, Kino released A Child Is Waiting on DVD and blu - I've got the former[left].  And it's an obvious upgrade for anyone interested in that film.  Even just the DVD is a strong step forward, since it's anamorphic and the subtitles aren't forced.  The AR is slightly corrected to 1.66:1, which reveals a sliver more image, and adjusted contrast levels.  Then the blu would give you the extra bump to HD and lossless audio.  The Kinos also have an informative and engaging audio commentary by Casscvetes biographer Tom Charity and film scholar Michael Van Den Bos, the theatrical trailer and a few bonus trailers.
Extras-wise, the French disc was okay, but Criterion really tops it. First of all, Cinemalta had a nice 9 minute extract from the documentary I Am Almost Not Crazy, featuring behind-the-scenes footage and interviews during the shooting of this movie. Criterion has the whole hour-long thing. Then the Cinemalta disc has another 11 minutes of behind the scenes footage taken from a show called Scene 143, which is actually a decent little exclusive for the French disc. There's another French extra, but it has no English language options... some French lady talks for a few minutes over posters and images from the movie. Lord knows what she's saying.

The Criterion, meanwhile, has brand new interviews with producer Al Ruban and co-stars Seymour Cassel and Diahnne Abbot. Then there's another one of Criterion's excellent "video essays," this time about actress Gena Rowlands. And there's an audio commentary by Michael Ventura who's written extensively on this film, and often reads straight from his book. It's sometimes quite compelling, and sometimes overly gushing and awkward; but overall has enough good content to be worthwhile. Finally, the Criterion disc has the trailer and a 29 page booklet, which includes an article Cassavetes himself wrote on the film for the New York Times. Actually, the French set had a booklet, too; you just couldn't read it unless you knew French.
So the Cinemalta disc was a nice release; it served us well. But now it's time to push it aside for Criterion's definitive blu. Even if you're not that fussed about upgrading your DVDs to blu-ray, this one is well worth it for the new extras and fresh scan. Keep your French disc for that Scene 143 extra, but there's no reason to go out of your way for it today.  Especially now that there's a proper A Child Is Waiting blu-ray out now, too.

Texas Chainsaw Massacre 5: Butcher Boys

Have you ever wondered what was up with that secret "conspiracy" society of weirdos who randomly turn up at the end of Texas Chainsaw Massacre 4 (a.k.a. Next Generation)? I think "who the heck are they?" was a pretty universal reaction to that left-field plot twist. But I don't think a lot of people know, even TCM fans, that Kim Henkel - the writer and director of Chainsaw 4, and co-writer of the 1978 original - actually answered all of that in a follow-up film in 2012. Because the Texas Chainsaw rights seem to be with those Platinum Dunes guys for the remakes, Butcher Boys is not an official TCM movie in name. But it is absolutely, 100% the next chapter in the story, and Henkel wants us to know that.
Let me make the case for it, in case anybody doubts. Set in Texas, Butcher Boys tells the story of a group of teens who unwittingly cross paths with a pack of modern day sadistic cannibals who yes, pack a chainsaw. Those cannibals turn out to work out for a much larger, totally demented group with a secret purpose, which naturally includes turning people into food. When we get to their lair (where the film really takes off), there's one huge, nonverbal burly guy in the dark with something over his face. He's so totally Leatherface (that's him on the cover), except they don't actually call him Leatherface. You might say, oh it's not a real TCM film if there isn't a scene where the family ties the lead girl to a chair at the dinner table and has an insane domestic dispute while eating someone, because they repeated that in every single one of 'em... Well, minor spoiler - that's in the movie! And there are a ton of cameos by Chainsaw alumni, including:

Marilyn Burns, star of the original and who also cameo'd in TCM4
Teri McMinn, Pam from the original
Edwin Neal, the infamous hitchhiker in the original Chainsaw
Perry Lorenz, stuntman and pick-up driver from the 1974 original
Ed Guinn, truck driver from the original
Levie Isaacks, the radio announcer from the original and cinematographer of TCM4
John Dugan, the grandfather in the original and who also cameo'd in TCM4
Bill Johnson, Leatherface in Chainsaw 2
Bill Wise, Heckler from Next Generation

...And maybe even more that I missed. Henkel is clearly trying to signal Chainsaw fans here. He can't say it's Chainsaw 5, but it is. It's not even a recent screenplay. He updated it a bit, but this was written all the way back in 1995. It even says "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" in big letters right on the cover and poster, thanks to that "from the writer/producer of" credit.
Besides just being another Texas Chainsaw, I actually think this is an underrated little film with an undeservedly bad rep. The film admittedly starts pretty slow. Nearly the first half of the film is four annoying teens being chased by a pack of "pretty boy" sadists. That admittedly drags on, but I still like how it's not afraid to get darker and more serious than most horror films. It's when we meet the rest of the "family," however, that the film takes off and gets fully gonzo, building to an over-the-top finale that goes far beyond any of the other films in the series. One of my favorite moments is when the father of one of the victims covers his entire body in butter so he can fit into a big crack in the wall where his daughter was taken. It's so insane; I kinda love it.
Before I oversell anybody too much on this film. though, I will say that a lot of people hated Chainsaw 4, and if you're one of those people, this won't turn you around. Everything there was to dislike about that one (and believe me, I see it) is here, too. Again, this film drags a lot for the first half. And the way the teens are written and directed is so obnoxiously unlikable, it's easy to be blinded by animosity towards the merits of the film. Inspired by Jonathan Swift's satirical essay A Modest Proposal, this film also drifts into some real absurdity, which I quite liked, but will probably turn off most conventional slasher fans looking for another entry in a popular franchise. There are also a few cases of the "unfortunate CGI"s due to the film's low-budget you're going to have to overlook. So I wouldn't even necessarily recommend this to people who just generally consider themselves fans of the Chainsaw series overall. But if you liked Next Generation, you should definitely not miss out on this movie. 
 
I really like the look of this film; it feels like the Texan Nightcrawler. And the shot-on-digital footage is served quite well by this HD presentation. There's not a lot you can do to screw up a new digital film's transfer, and fortunately they don't go out of their way to do so here. Everything looks exactly as it should. The film is in its original 1.78:1 aspect ratio, and there's no interlacing, ghost frames or any problems.
Wait, is he wearing the prom dress of the girl from TCM 4?
The blu-ray is perfectly English friendly. Yeah, it has the German dub in HD DTS 5.1, but it still has the original English audio in HD DTS 5.1 as well. And while it says it's region B on the back of the case, I just played it on my region A-locked player. The only thing we miss out on is the theatrical trailer, which is only available with the German dub; but that's an inconsequential price to pay for getting the film in HD.

That trailer is about it for extras, though (the US DVD doesn't have any either). The only other stuff on this disc is a collection of bonus trailers for: Junkie, Hunting Season, Kaliber 9, Home Sweet Home, Rites of Spring, Compliance, Sin Nombre - Life Without Hope, Antisocial, Sickle and Stalled. It has some pretty sweet packaging, though, with reversible artwork to hide the giant, unattractive "FSK 18" ratings symbol, and instead of the standard blue blu-ray case, it comes in a solid black one.
I'm surprised how little recognition this film seems to receive for the Chainsaw film it is, even by the fans: Ironically, a lot of online commenters call it a TCM rip-off. I do understand some people not liking this film, though. Henkel's Next Generation was already the most controversial in the series; and this film doubles down on all of that. This film is the picture of Not For Everybody, but I do wish it would find its audience. The lame Butcher Boys title doesn't help. But there's something of value here, guys; I shouldn't be the only one to see it.

The Troubled Troubles We've Seen, Marcus Ophuls' Overlooked Doc

Marcus Ophuls (son of filmmaker Max Ophuls) made one of the greatest one of the greatest holocaust documentaries (specifically about the less commonly addressed French occupation) of all time... indeed one of the great documentaries of all time period: 1969's The Sorrow and the Pity.  It's very well known as well as being highly regarded, having been released, restored and reissued around the world. But it's not the man's only film, or even his only great film. It's not even his only Academy Award winning film (Sorrow was nominated, but his 1988 documentary, Hotel Terminus, actually won). Unfortunately however, when it comes to releasing his films on home video, he's treated like a one hit wonder. Most of his films remain competently unavailable anywhere in the world. But at least one more of his powerful documentaries has actually been released in America, albeit very obscurely.
 
The Troubles We've Seen is one of his more modern works, from 1994, and focuses on wartime journalism. The bulk of the film was shot in Sarajevo in 1993 while the city was under siege, interviewing reporters from all over the world - including the BBC, CNN, ABC news, French television, etc -  who've converged in a Holiday Inn near "sniper alley" where news reporters are frequent and intentional sniper targets. At one point, he's interviewing a reporter while standing over the body of another reporter who's just died from a sniper's bullet; it can be pretty harrowing stuff.
But the film also takes a broader view, looking back at past wars and how the news reports are disseminated around the world. It's 224 minutes, so it has time to really sink its teeth into tangents, like a famous Spanish war photographer who was accused of faking some of his most famous shots, or the animosity between "on the ground" photojournalists and on-screen anchors. Other times he drifts more into covering the actual war the reporters are covering and the effect it has on its people.
 
And, perhaps to lighten the mood, we see Ophuls adopt a technique similar to what Errol Morris would start doing years later (inspired by this film?), of cutting in footage from old movies to act as a sort of commentary or counterpoint to what's going on in-film. For example, we'll have a politician talking about war and then cut to a scene from Duck Soup with Groucho Marx telling Harpo as he goes off to fight gallantly on the front lines for his home and country that he'll be back home, thinking what a sucker he is. Other times, it's more serious, a la a clip from some English adaptation of Henry V of the soldier's speech about how the victims of battle will rise up on the conscience of the king who led them to war while we look at victims of a recent bombing. He goes a little overboard with it in the beginning of the film, where it starts to feel like we get two sentences of clip for every one sentence of actual interview; but it soon tapers off and feels very natural and effective.
 
There's one example I've read Ophuls get criticized for a couple of times online, that I thought I'd take the liberty of defending. Ophuls is talking to a former actor who's now living in a cramped apartment with his wife and children, and his two legs blown off by a Serbian grenade. The actor says he expects to get prosthetic legs soon and plans to return to the stage once the war ends, and Ophuls is asking if he believes the Serbs and the Croats can ever actually live in peace after the war. The actor is completely convinced they can, and it cuts to a clip of James Cagney tap dancing on stage from Yankee Doodle Dandy, to which critics have said, isn't that juvenile and cruel to mock this man with no legs by cross cutting to a tap dancer, but I believe they've missed the point. During that interview, Ophuls keeps pushing the issue of whether they can ever truly live peacefully afterwards, forgiving and forgetting the atrocities of the war they just fought to live amongst each other again. He calls the actor "very optimistic" as he seems to act like it will be no problem. But when Ophuls asks" what will happen when he's on stage and one of the men responsible for blowing off his legs is in the audience, and the actor says, "I will kill him." So we see peace really won't be so simple or easy to achieve as the people are being lead to believe, and Cagney is representing the cheerfully naive fantasy of how happy everyone will soon be. He's happily tap dancing on stage, all smiles and flag waving, when the real actor already has the intent to kill again in his mind, just lightly covered by this dream of happier times.
Not that every thing about this film is perfect. I already mentioned the beginning feels a bit self-indulgent with all the excess cutaways, like when we see the opening of Annie Hall before Ophuls similarly addresses the camera to explain what his film is going to be about. It also drags a bit in the middle as it gets a little too mired up in the details of French television of the day, which non-viewers of early 90s French news programs won't get as much out of. And there's a weird bit where Ophuls talks about his "Fellini hat" (it's the same kind of hat Marcello Mastroianni wore in 8 1/2) and we see lots of footage of a naked, younger woman in his bed. I don't get what that was supposed to be about. I suspect it was to show that the reporters were all sleeping with hookers in this hotel - and so was our host; but the whole segment had the feel of a self indulgent in-joke. But so for all the virtues this film shows in its longer running time, allowing it to cover what most films wouldn't be able to get into, it does feel also like shedding a good 10-20 minutes could have made Troubles leaner and more powerful.
So this film is only available from Milestone Film and Video, a small NY company that sells this as a 3-disc DV-R set directly from its site and sometimes through Amazon when their storefront is stocked. To be clear, though, this is a legit, licensed release, not one of those bootleg sites that torrents obscure movies and sells them to you on homemade DV-Rs for $20 a pop. Milestone's releases used to be available in stores nationwide back when DVDs were the most mainstream, popular form of movie viewing, and in fact they're the company that put out the original DVD of The Sorrow and the Pity back in 2001. However, this release doesn't feel so official when you actually put it in your player...
First of all, for a 2011 release, it's surprising (and disappointing) that these discs are not anamorphic. I think that's because this disc was released previously as a proper pressed DVD, which has long since gone out of print, and this 2011 DV-R is just a quiet reissue. The back of the box says this film is 1.31:1, but look at the screenshots; that's obviously wrong. This film is more like 1.61:1; but that's good, because it looks like the correct aspect ratio. this film was shot on 35mm, at least according to the imdb, and was made to play in theaters, so we're probably getting the proper AR, at least. But since it's non-anamorphic, that means the film is windowboxed, sitting tiny in the center of your screen surrounded by black on all four sides. Subtitles are burned in. There are no extras of any kind, and only the first disc has a proper menu screen. The second disc ends abruptly but continues playing a black, silent screen for a couple minutes... I sure hope there wasn't footage from the movie that was supposed to be playing during that time that we're missing. Then it cuts to a gray screen for a little while, which is 1.37:1 - hey, that's where they got that ratio from!
Did I mention the discs are single layer? Of course they are! And they didn't even use all of that space - more like half. This film is divided into two distinct parts (with credits and everything), but it's broken up into three discs rather than keeping both halves together on two dual-layered discs, which would've played a lot better. Hell, they probably could've fit it on two single-layered discs without any additional compression. Speaking of compression, the video quality is passable, I guess, for a standard def DV-R, assuming you go in with low expectations. It's certainly soft and murky enough to make you wonder if this was sourced from video tape. Remarkably, it's not interlaced, though there are frames of ghosting, which probably come from sloppy PAL/ NTSC conversion, or just an old pull-down issue. This could obviously look heaps and heaps better. The labels on the disc are plain white with text, there's no insert, and yet they ask the painfully high price of $39.95. And you guys thought Zipporah films was bad!
Maybe he's just wearing two pairs of glasses?
Still, it's the only release of this remarkable film, and it does get the job done. And I get that they're a low budget company sitting on some important films, but there are so many improvements they could make to this release without spending a penny. We can all make anamorphic DVDs on our home computers. But again, I believe this is actually a really old disc that just wasn't updated at all, and it only gets into the realm of frustrating when you see the price tag. Oh well, in lieu of other options, this film is still worth it. I sure wish some blu-ray company (Kino? Criterion? Studio Canal?) would come along, though, and do the whole Ophuls catalog right. I mean, the films besides The Sorrow and the Pity.

The Devil's Advocate Uncensored, Recalled DVD (and Blu-ray Comparison)

As the result of a lawsuit, Warner Bros is not allowed to release their 1997 film, The Devil's Advocate, uncensored anymore... and haven't been for a long time. Specifically, one of the biggest set pieces in the film, a massive bas-relief sculpture in Al Pacino's apartment that ultimately comes to life was said to be too similar to a bas-relief called Ex Nihilo which resides above the western entrance to the National Cathedral in Washington. It's not a reproduction, it was just judged to be too similar that it violated copyright, and since the sculptor found its use offensive (it's meant to be a very divine piece, and in the film, it's literally Satanic), he refused the studio permission to include it in the film, even though they'd already shot and released the film theatrically with it featured in multiple scenes. So a settlement was reached where Warner Bros. could release 475,000 copies through rental stores, and thereafter they created a new version of the film, with some very early CGI (this was the 90s, remember) replacing every shot of the sculpture with a new, generic image. Yuck.
Original DVD on top; CGI'd blu below.
This is the first shot of the sculpture after the big reveal. An elevator door slowly slides off-screen to reveal this crazily large, impressive sculpture than Al just happens to have in his office. As you can see, it's full of human figures swirling around each other (just like in Ex Nihilo). Not only is this sculpture prominently displayed in multiple scenes, where it's used to make a big statement about Pacino's opulence and the kind of place Reeves is entering into, but SPOILER: the sculpture ultimately comes to life and those people in it writhe and try to seduce Reeves. Now, to be fair to the new version, the image doesn't look too fake in the background. Even as characters walk and talk in front of it, it fits into its environment fairly convincingly. But it sure is a far less impressive art piece, just a mass of generic white swirls (I'm sure it's kept so simple because complicating the image would have made it look faker). It's just not nearly as impressive or effective.
Original DVD on top; CGI'd blu below.
And it's not just in the background. There are times when the camera is looking squarely and solely at the sculpture, nothing else. Early in the original, the camera adopts Reeves' point of view, panning slowly over the people in the sculpture. In the new version, the camera pans the same way over... a swirly jumble of nothing. You're not going to tell me in the shots above that one is just as good as the other.
Original DVD on top; CGI'd blu below.
And we come back to the sculpture repeatedly, in multiple scenes throughout the second two-thirds of the picture. Here, they loom over the people in the room ominously, as if they're reaching out to them. Or... it's just a white lump hanging back safely against the wall in the new version. They couldn't have at least made the swirls lean outward?
Original DVD on top; CGI'd blu below (no, this is not a mistake)
Look, the shots have been totally changed (it's not just zoomed in tighter; Pacino's gone), but now it's the same sculpture in both versions? Yes, bizarrely, that's what happens in the CGI version. The sculpture transforms into the version with people in it at the 1.57 mark, ten minutes before it comes alive in the story. First of all, that means we watch the statue totally moving around and changing, with one of those old school morphing effects, long before its meant to be anything but a "normal" sculpture, and Reeves has absolutely zero reaction to it (because in the original version, it hasn't done anything weird yet, so why would he?). And secondly, if we're allowed to see the sculpture as the version with humans in it for the final scene of the film, in many shots and angles over the course of ten minutes - this is in the censored version, mind you! - what was the point of censoring it all throughout earlier? Why not have it look like it does at the end earlier on? It makes no sense! Now, it's even more frustrating!

But in March of 1998, the film was commercially released uncensored on DVD. Despite having a large red message printed on the back of the case reading, "[t]he large white sculpture of the human forms on the wall of John Milton's Penthouse in 'Devil's Advocate' is not connected in any way and was not endorsed by the Sculptor Federick Hart or the Washington National Cathedral, joint copyright owners of the Cathedral sculpture 'Ex Nihilo' in Washington, D.C." ...it was actually still the original bas-relief on the DVD. That disc was recalled and re-issued the same year, and since then the film has always been issued with the censored print with the CGI'd sculpture, including multiple pressings, boxed sets, and even recent blu-ray releases.

Now if you're anything like me, there's only one version of this film to own: that rare, recalled DVD from 1998.
And it's a film worth owning for sure; it's a blast. Keanu Reaves, gives one of his better performances as a young, Kentucky lawyer who gets hired by a big time New York law firm. So he and his girlfriend (Charlize Theron) move to the big apple, only to find out that his boss, Al Pacino, seems to literally be the devil. Now, I know a lot of people believe Pacino is one of those actors who's moved on from giving legitimate acting performances to just pushing out an over-the-top caricature in every film he does now, and I tend to agree; but this is the one role where his over-playing it actually suits the character and the mood perfectly, and so his instincts are spot on. Plus, it's got an absolutely perfect supporting cast, including Jeffrey Jones, Craig T. Nelson, Heather Matarazzo and even Don King as himself.
You'd never know it from the poster, the credits, or even the film's imdb page, but this is a Larry Cohen film. He wrote the original script; but due to union rules, only the guys who did some later rewrites are given official credit. Cohen fans will still be able to sniff his writing out, though, as its full of his usual wit and "what if" approach to scenarios. To be fair, though; having listened to the audio commentary, it sounds like some of the changes the new guys made were for the better; so I definitely don't mean to suggest they don't deserve credit here.
Original DVD on top; CGI'd blu below.
So, this original recalled DVD features the same transfer - except of course for the CGI-altered shots - as the later releases, showing the film in its original 2.35:1 aspect ratio. Fortunately, as old as this DVD is, it isn't so old that it's non-anamorphic. I think we dodged a bullet there. The blu-ray, naturally, looks a good deal better - except, again, for the the fact that it has the CGI-altered image instead of the director's original vision - but this looks just as good as any other standard def DVD version. Plus, interestingly, it has a little more picture information on the sides... because the blu ray is slightly stretched horizontally. However, if we're not dismissing the blu-ray, it has to be said that it's a noticeable improvement, with better detail, where the DVD has wonkier edges, no doubt because the SD is an older transfer. Improved, but censored. Ultimately, which is more important? To see the movie in nice HD, or to see it unaltered? It's a decision you're going to have to make for yourself, because unfortunately, we can't have both.
deleted scene
This DVD also has some nice extras... pretty much the same extras which have been present on every release of this film. It has the aforementioned audio commentary, by director Taylor Hackford, which is fun and very informative. Then there's the trailer, a couple TV spots and a LOT - about 30 minutes worth - of deleted scenes, also with commentary by Hackford. And here's one more advantage the blu-ray has that must be noted. On the DVD, the commentary is forced on the deleted scenes. That is to say, you cannot watch the deleted scenes without the director's commentary playing over them. But on the blu-ray, the commentary is optional, so you can also hear the scenes play out on their own. That is absolutely preferable, so score a few more points for the blu-ray release. I'd almost recommend getting both, and maybe for really big fans of this film that's what you should do. But at the end of the day, when you're going to sit down and rewatch this movie, you're going to pick one version or the other anyway. So you're still forced to decide: uncensored or HD?

So let's assume you chose uncensored, or you do feel compelled to pick up both. How can you tell the original recalled version apart from the reissue? Well, first of all, obviously, stay away from any sets... the double feature with Insomnia, the Al Pacino Collection? No. But that's obvious. The ones that are hard to tell apart are the 1998 solo DVDs. Fortunately, Amazon has still maintained separate listing pages for them (here's the link to the original). They often don't do that, and remove or merge listings for older DVDs, which can be quite frustrating. Luckily, they remain distinct as of this writing. But still, trusting people listing and selling their DVD copies on Amazon to know which listing is for which, or even that there are two different versions, and listing their DVD correctly is a leap of faith that extends right out into the domain of the foolhardy. And why limit ourselves to buying from Amazon, anyway? We need a real way to tell these DVDs apart, and fortunately, such a way exists.
 
First of all, the recalled version is (unfortunately) packaged in one of those half cardboard "snapper crapper" cases. Warner Bros later reissued this in the preferable keep-case packaging, and that of course is the CGI'd version. However, it's not that easy! While that reissue also came out in 1998, that is the 3rd version. Both the recalled version and the first censored version came before it, and both are in snappers. So you can certainly rule out any version in a standard clamshell keep-case, but you can't embrace any version in a snapper. We need to look closer.
There is a catalog number on the spine of the DVD case, which is unique to this version. The recalled version is number 15090. I'm not sure of all the other catalog numbers, because I never went nuts and collected every single subsequent pressing. But if it's any number other than 15090, you don't want it. There are other distinguishing factors, too... for example, different editions have different UPC numbers. The recalled version is: 0 85391 50902 8; however I'm not 100% certain that none of the other editions have that same UPC. I don't think they do, and I know for sure that at least some of them have different UPCs. But I can't swear to it that they all do. I AM certain about the catalog number, so go by that. If you see it used in a shop you can just check the spine. Or if you want to order it from EBay, Amazon or anyplace else, just ask the seller what that catalog number is on the copy he's selling. Fortunately, Devil's Advocate was a major film from one of the biggest studios, so a lot of these were released into the wild before the recall. They're still quite findable with a little knowledge and effort.

Good luck!

Bob Fosse's Dark Star 80 In Widescreen

Bob Fosse's not-even-remotely-musical true crime thriller Star 80 has been out on DVD in the US for decades, but it's always been one of the most disappointing full-screen, featureless discs to come out of a major studio. It even came in one of those cardboard crappy snapper cases. But it became one of those DVDs that the studios never cared to reissue here in the US, but gave nice, anamorphic widescreen transfers to abroad. In this case, we're looking at Warner Bros' attractive Australian DVD.
 
Star 80 is the dark story of model and actress Dorothy Stratten and the man who managed, married and ultimately murdered her, Paul Snider. Mariel Hemingway is charming and believable as Stratton, and there's a strong supporting cast, including Cliff Robertson, Carroll Baker and an early cameo by Keenan Ivory Wayans as himself. But it's the incredible performance by Eric Roberts that carries the weight of this picture, managing to make him both empathetic and yet totally abhorrent. This film takes you on a ride with its all too real villain along the lines of horror films like Maniac or Don't Answer the Phone, while other times being charming and funny. The fact that it's got great music and an edge because everything we're seeing really went down helps raise it above the others, too. It's the kind of film people who've seen it don't forget.
US disc on the left; Australian on the right.
US disc on top; Australian on bottom.
Star 80 was shot by one of the world's greatest cinematographers of all time, Sven Nykvist, so it really sucked to see this film so poorly represented on the early DVD. It wasn't even open matte. It was sort of a compromise picture, with some additional vertical information, but it cut a lot off the sides. So seeing the Australian disc is a big revelation. And if you look at the second shot, there's even a bit more information along the top of the widescreen print. It looks like someone did put in time and care to make the 4:3 transfer look as good as it could; but it's just not the correct aspect ratio. The US disc was also a bit brighter, but I'm not sure that's preferable or more accurate. There are no extras on this release, just as there weren't any on the old US one, but at least there are two sets of English subtitles, standard and hearing impaired.
 
Now, I see that Warner Archives has Star 80 on their schedule for the end of this month. Hopefully this is the transfer we'll see. I mean, I'd be surprised if they stuck with the fullscreen one at this point; but you don't know 'till you know. Fortunately though, if they do, we know the import still has our backs. And collectors may still prefer to the Australian disc, simply as a pressed disc over an MOD DV-R.