(View From The Couch is a weekly column that reviews what's new on Blu-ray and DVD.)
ALL THAT JAZZ (1979). The legendary director and choreographer Bob Fosse — still the only person to win the Oscar (Cabaret), the Tony (Pippin) and the Emmy (Liza with a Z) all in the same year (1973) — here serves up his own version of Federico Fellini's 8-1/2, yet the end result feels more like a 5-1/2. Scripted by Fosse and Robert Alan Aurthur, this largely autobiographical piece finds Roy Scheider delivering an excellent performance as Joe Gideon, a Broadway icon who's running himself ragged between mounting an expensive stage show, editing his latest movie (The Stand-Up, standing in for Fosse's Lenny), and living up to his billing as a tireless womanizer. The film is such the navel-gazing insider piece that it's no wonder the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences went gaga over it while every other major awards group ignored it (though it did win the Palme d'Or at Cannes, tying with Kurosawa's Kagemusha). It's frequently a self-absorbed muddle, with a number of brilliantly realized scenes diluted by numbing repetition as well as fantasy sequences that run hot-and-cold. Ann Reinking, basically playing herself, is noteworthy as Gideon's girlfriend, and there are also fine contributions from Leland Palmer as his ex-wife and Jessica Lange as the Angel of Death. Many now-familiar faces can be spotted in small roles, including John Lithgow, Wallace Shawn, CCH Pounder and, as the teenage Joe, Keith Gordon. Nominated for nine Academy Awards (including Best Picture, Director and Actor), this won four: Best Adaptation Score, Film Editing, Costume Design and Art Direction-Set Decoration.
Blu-ray extras include audio commentary by the film's Oscar-winning editor, Alan Heim; select-scene audio commentary by the late Scheider; a pair of 2007 documentaries, one about Fosse and the other about the film's music; new interviews with Heim and Fosse biographer Sam Wasson; a new conversation between Reinking and Erzsebet Foldi (who plays Gideon's young daughter); on-set footage; and vintage interviews with Fosse.
Movie: **1/2
BELLE (2014). Thanks to the barrage of Brit-lit adaptations — Jane Austen or otherwise — hitting the screen for some time now, we've come to expect our British period pieces to tackle issues of classism and sexism. Belle, however, is different in that it also adds racism to the stack. Loosely based on a true story, this begins with naval officer John Lindsay (Matthew Goode) collecting his illegitimate daughter from her impoverished, motherless existence and placing her in the care of his kin, Lord and Lady Mansfield (Tom Wilkinson and Emily Watson). As Lindsay explains, the little girl's name is Dido Elizabeth Belle Lindsay, and as the Mansfields can see, she's the product of a mixed-race coupling. As Lindsay's occupation requires him to be away from England, the Lord and Lady promise to raise Dido alongside their other niece, Elizabeth. They fulfill their promise ... to a point. Like Elizabeth (Sarah Gadon), Dido (Gugu Mbatha-Raw) is given a proper upbringing and education, and she and Elizabeth consider themselves both sisters and best friends. But whenever the Mansfields entertain guests at dinner, Dido must eat by herself, since the rules of propriety do not allow someone of her color to sup with her white family (and yet her standing forbids her from eating with the servants, either). Dido struggles to find her place in the world, and her crisis of identity is further stirred when John Davinier (Sam Reid), the idealistic son of a clergyman, informs her that Lord Mansfield, England's leading judicial voice, is overseeing a case involving a shipload of slaves who might have been drowned for the insurance money. Whereas many filmmakers would have fashioned Dido's story through the eyes of, say, her Caucasian cousin Elizabeth, director Amma Asante and writer Misan Sagay make the story uniquely her own. In this respect, they benefit from the selection of British TV star Gugu Mbatha-Raw, who holds the screen with her impassioned portrayal. Her character serves as the lightning rod for most of the film's issues, yet Asante and Sagay have crafted a picture rich enough to illuminate the struggles of others as well. The story's beats are, on the whole, predictable, yet by adding an extra coat of moral outrage onto a tried and true framework, Belle succeeds in relating its worthy tale of pride and prejudice.
Blu-ray extras include a making-of featurette; a piece on Mbatha-Raw; and a stills gallery.
Movie: ***
DRAFT DAY (2014). With the latest NFL season still in its infancy, this seems as good a time as any for this title to be hitting the home market. Kevin Costner, who is becoming to sport flicks what John Wayne was to Westerns, stars as Sonny Weaver, the embattled general manager of the NFL's Cleveland Browns. Acquiring the number one pick in the 2014 draft, Weaver must decide how best to rebuild a struggling franchise, whether it's by engineering further trades or using the pick to land one of several promising prospects (including a youngster played by Chadwick Boseman, Jackie Robinson in last year's 42 and James Brown in this summer's Get On Up). The team's owner (Frank Langella) is breathing down Sonny's neck while the coach (Denis Leary) is battling him at every turn; only Ali (Jennifer Garner), his associate and girlfriend, offers any sort of support, though even they don't always see eye-to-eye when it comes to their relationship. Perhaps even more than Moneyball with its baseball milieu, Draft Day is a film geared toward NFL fans, as it's difficult to see viewers who care even less about football than they do wiffleball really giving a damn as to whether the Cleveland Browns end up in a better draft situation than the Seattle Seahawks or the Jacksonville Jaguars. But for those on its wavelength, the movie is an engaging affair, with a sharp script by screen newbies Rajiv Joseph and Scott Rothman, brisk direction by veteran Ivan Reitman (Ghostbusters), good actors in even the smallest roles (including Sam Elliott and Ellen Burstyn) and various NFL figureheads to provide that all-important verisimilitude (misogynistic commissioner Roger Goodell, former stars Jim Brown and Deion Sanders, etc.).
Blu-ray extras include audio commentary by Joseph and Rothman; a making-of featurette; deleted scenes; and the theatrical trailer.
Movie: ***
GODZILLA (2014). The giant Japanese superstar first hit theaters 60 years ago, becoming a global phenomenon in the ensuing decades. Godzilla (birth name: Gojira) was such a popular commodity that even the Yanks elected to take a crack at the big guy: The result was 1998's risible Godzilla vs. Ferris Bueller, with the oversized monster no match for Matthew Broderick's shtick. Clearly, director Gareth Edwards and writers Max Borenstein and Dave Callaham had their work cut out for them if they wanted to make a Hollywood version that would erase the smell of its ill-advised predecessor. For the first hour, they mostly succeed. Principal characters are introduced, among them Joe Brody (Bryan Cranston), a nuclear power plant engineer who turns into an activist once he becomes convinced that there was a cover-up involving an accident at the facility, and his son Ford (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), a military grunt certain that his dad's a raving lunatic. They're among those who witness the arrival of the buglike MUTOs (Massive Unidentified Terrestrial Organism); these gargantuan creatures destroy everything in their path, and it's clear that Earth needs a hero to vanquish them. That's where The Big G comes in, and after an hour in which he's been noticeably MIA, we're more than ready for the remaining 65 minutes to offer wall-to-wall Godzilla. Only it doesn't work out that way. With continued emphasis on the humans (particularly Taylor-Johnson's Ford, the least interesting of the protagonists) and much of the discussion (and action) centering around the MUTOs, Godzilla ends up becoming a supporting player in what's ostensibly his own movie. It's shocking to note how little screen time he receives, and when he finally enters into a battle royale with the MUTOs, it feels like the film has been handed over to an extra. The visual effects are superb, although I must confess a bit of disappointment in the design of Godzilla in his latest incarnation. Stockier than normal, one gets the feeling he's spent the past few years guzzling Kirin Ichiban or Sapporo Draft while lounging on the ocean floor — how else to explain that sizable beer belly?
Blu-ray extras include a behind-the-scenes featurette; a look at the villainous M.U.T.O.s; pieces on the effects; and MONARCH: Declassified, a three-part examination that offers further expansion of the film's mythology.
Movie: **1/2
THE TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE (1974). It's putting it mildly to note that when this horror flick was first released back in 1974, it caught audiences completely off guard. Even coming on the heels of The Exorcist, which did its own share of theater-clearing, this one emerged as a lightning rod of controversy; like the earlier Night of the Living Dead, it succeeded largely because of its gritty, low-budget shooting style, and its influence on subsequent (and inferior) slasher flicks cannot be overstated. Loosely based on the real-life exploits of serial killer Ed Gein (whose sordid tale also served as the basis for Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho), it centers around five college-age kids whose ill-advised road trip through a desolate part of Texas puts them in contact with a murderous, cannibalistic clan whose most terrifying member, tagged Leatherface (Gunnar Hansen), is a silent, hulking psychopath with a nasty habit of peeling off his victims' faces and wearing them as masks. The movie itself has worn many faces over the years, representing the disillusionment of the nation after Vietnam and Watergate; pushing a pro-vegetarian stance by decrying the brutality of eating meat; serving as a bastardization of the comforting image of the all-American family as a wholesome, reliable entity; and further supporting the big-city mindset that views rural America as a haven for inbred illiterates. The bottom line is that the flick, directed, produced and co-written by Tobe Hooper, remains a genuine classic of the genre, a punishing, unrelenting nightmare that never allows viewers even a moment of sanity or security. Much of the credit goes to lead actress Marilyn Burns (who passed away in August): There's a touch of madness in her third-act emoting, and her wide-eyed terror — as primal as anything I've ever seen in a motion picture — remains with you long after the film is over. Ignore the 2003 remake (produced by the clueless Michael Bay), a feeble retelling that guts the integrity of the original and wears its own cynicism like a ragged mask.
Extras on the 40th Anniversary Collector's Edition Blu-ray include four separate audio commentaries, with participants including Hooper, Burns and Hansen; a making-of documentary; deleted scenes and outtakes; a tour of the film's notorious house given by Hansen; interviews with co-star John Dugan (the grandfather), editor J. Larry Carroll and production manager Ron Bozman; a still gallery; and a blooper reel.
Movie: ***1/2