Blu-ray and 4K Consumer Guide, Fall 2025 Vol. 3

Airport/Airport 79 The Concorde (Kino Lorber)

Well, after the success of his 1965 novel Hotel, one of the many climaxes of which was a plummeting elevator (the book was made into a picture a couple of years later, directed by poor Richard Quine who likely wasn’t all that personally invested) Arthur Hailey thought it would be fun to put a guy with a bomb on a plane. So here, under the efficient direction of the highly highly highly impersonal craftsperson George Seaton, we’ve got poor Van Heflin and his whack insurance scheme threatening the friendly skies. Does he stand a chance against Dean Martin, Burt Lancaster and, um, Jean Seberg? No he does not. The 1970 picture is the first of four AVERTING Disaster In The Skies works, all four of which are now in very home-theater-worthy editions from Kino Lorber. Let me skip ahead to the last and most ridiculous of the bunch, the one about the Concorde. Did you ever fly on the Concorde? No, me neither, but I have a friend who did near the end of its run and while he was indeed dazzled by the speed he felt that the descent and landing made him more familiar with the concept of metal fatigue than he’d ever like to be again. Much of the fun of ’79 comes from watching arthouse stars such as Alain Delon and Bibi Anderrson interact with stalwart series regular George Kennedy, whose tech maestro Joe Patroni is the glue that holds the whole franchise together. All this and Charo, Sylvia Kristel, Eddie Albert AND Mercedes McCambridge too. — A for all.

Bonjour Tristesse (Powerhouse/Indicator)

If you know me at all you know I’m a fiend for this film like Farrell was a fiend for mojitos in Miami Vice. The new edition from Powerhouse/Indicator has been praised on Facebook by the knows-his-stuff movie maven David Hare and who am I to argue. The color really is dazzling. I should not be “officially” reviewing this, however (good thing this is just a blog I guess) as I am one of the commentators. I can commend my partner Farran Smith Nehme’s contribution to the conversation while maintaining a commendable skeptical modesty about my own. (From my notes: “Looks fabulous, don’t know about that dude on the commentary though.”) — A+

Greta Garbo, Judy Garland, and Erroll Flynn collections (Warner Archive)

We all know the movies here, and the superb Warner renderings of them have been longtime essential library items in their individual packages. I commend these collections here to folks like myself who always welcome the opportunity to make more room on their physical media shelves. — A+

The Hard Way (Warner Archive)

I knew almost nothing about this picture going in, but figured on a good time. A Warner melodrama starring Ida Lupino and directed by the often better than reliable Vincent Sherman? What could there be not to like? I did not, however, expect it to go so hard. Its impact is only slightly ameliorated by the frame story which serves as a partial spoiler. Lupino and Joan Leslie are broken home kids; Joan is a honey of a singer so Ida pushes her to make a career of it, and once that’s accomplished, she just pushes harder. Jack Carson gives a performance of heartbreaking vulnerability as a piece of human collateral damage. The black-and-white image is gorgeous, providing smooth aesthetic pleasure as the story proceeds to ABSOLUTELY WRECK YOU. — A

Hollywood Legends of  Horror Collection (Warner Archive)

Six films, a couple of them seminal greats and a couple also-rans with exoteric benefits. For instance, The Return of Dr. X, objectively, shows neither director Vincent Sherman nor major support player Humphrey Bogart to best advantage. But subjectively it’s a hoot. The greats are Curtiz’s Dr. X itself, Freund’s immortal Mad Love. Browning’s The Devil Doll isn’t the best Todd, but even the not-best Todd is unique and thrilling. Same goes for Mark of the Vampire. Finally, The Mask of Fu Manchu is very objectionable and also remarkable. The distorted mirror imagery alone makes it sing like a theremin. — A+

Mixed Blood (Cinematographe)

There is believe it or not, a touch of Bresson in director Paul Morrissey — he clearly casts actors for their faces and bodies, not their expressivity. Unlike Bresson, he doesn’t seem to insist that his models give flat, unexpressive line readings — rather, he just let them go (I presume), and they either underperformed or overemoted according to their own abilities/inclinations. This creates a not-quite Bressonian effect, but the atmosphere overall is certainly in an adjacent county to RB’s.  “How dare you come here and make a plot against me?” is said with a similar intonation to Judy Tenuda’s “You cannot possess me, no.” It’s a “treat,” of sorts, to see the Lower East Side of the time (1984) looking like something out of a DEFA “rubble” movie.  Staging a holdup and killing in the “Menuditis” store is a nice touch. — A

The Old Dark House (Eureka! 4K)

Not much can be said about this stone James Whale classic; one must experience it, after which, if it has been properly appreciated, one will never serve potatoes at a dinner with the conventional attitude again. The restoration was done entirely in the digital realm but there’s no vestige of former scourges such as blocky blacks (and there’s a lot of black in this picture, for sure). This is a superbly watchable version, I’ve never seen the picture so detailed. If your only experience of Gloria Stuart is from Titanic, you’re in for a revelation. The performances of Laughton and Karloff are deathless, and Melvyn Douglas has an amusing “what the hell am I doing here” insouciance. There are oodles of informative extras here too. Inspirational dialogue: “That’s fine stuff. But it’ll rot.” —A+

Saraband for Dead Lovers (Powerhouse/Indicator Region B import)

Glorious Technicolor is the main attraction here, and the period settings and costumes were made for it — the production value is multi-layered and all top-notch. The story is a doomed romance and not quite as stirring as a Gainsborough or Powell-Pressburger jam, but more than credible if you just go with it. Leading man Stewart Granger never rated himself properly — I remember him doing a commentary for a Criterion laser disc (God I’m old) of Scaramouche in which he averred that the George Sidney picture was the only work he was proud of. George Sidney. Think on that. (I’ve always considered G.S. underrated myself.) He’s credible in this, but it’s vinegary Flora Robson who really walks away with the picture. And the Technicolor. — A

Satan’s Bed/Scare Their Pants Off (Vinegar Syndrome)

I’ve not yet looked at Scare, but I checked out Satan’s Bed on account of the letter-never-sent anecdote I relate in the booklet essay for A Girl’s Best Friend, the 1980 adult film recently released by VinSyn’s sibling concern Melusine. Long story. Anyway, if you know it, this disc shows that had Sam Lake gone through with his potentially extortionate scheme against Yoko Ono, the joke would have been on him. While then-student Ono does indeed appear in this roughie, she is never depicted in any states of undress or even deshabille. Rather, it’s co-director Roberta Findlay who’s writhing in bra and panties while tied to a pool table in what appears to be an entirely tacked-on opening scene. Ono, a kidnap victim, wears a decorous kimono throughout. This is a beautiful presentation of an actually tepid-to-bad Findlay movie. But it’s a legitimate piece of history for both Onophiles (I’m one) and Findlay fiends (they were certainly unique). In an interesting coincidence, Roberta Findlay has been and maybe still is the manager at Sear Sound, formerly The Hit Factory, where John Lennon and Ono recorded Double Fantasy, and where Ono recorded a few solo efforts. — B+

Seven Women (Warner Archive)

Final Ford, and yes, it sometimes plays a little stagy (especially to those pesky “contemporary sensibilities” — you know, the ones turned off by The Searchers) but the compositions are always immaculate and stirring and do their jobs. Anne Bancroft here plays a missionary doctor both no-nonsense and secretly idealistic. She’s the ultimate pragmatist by the movie’s heart-stopping finale — she knows she’s licked but she’s not going down alone. It was only one year later that she incarnated Mrs. Robinson. So this movie is the work of two geniuses. Ford scholar Joseph McBride has lamented that this edition declines to include an ostensibly lost scene, while other Ford scholar TAG Gallagher has weighed in saying that’s not such a big deal. But I reckon both agree that this is a Ford Home Library Essential. — A+

Sunset Boulevard (Paramount 4K disc)

This has been a long time coming, and wow, the restoration is dazzling. Absolute eye-popping wonderment. There’s nothing usual about THIS monkey-funeral sequence. The benefit of the gorgeous image is that the movie is more skin-crawlingly creepy than you’ve ever seen it. I know that using the word “brave” to characterize acting performances is too-often and too-often improperly done, but man, Swanson had some kind of stones to do this. One can also see Stroheim’s Max come close to breaking down a few times, which I don’t think I’ve noticed before. The supplements are suitable for gorging on.  — A+

Yongary: Monster From The Deep (Vinegar Syndrome)

This 1967 co-production of Japan’s Toei and South Korea’s Keukdong studios represents meaningful entente between two nations that had tense relations in the past (and man, the tension hadn’t let up by the time Seoul hosted the 1988 Olympics; I was there at the opening ceremony and when the Japanese contingent marched out the stadium got so quiet you could literally hear a pin drop, and there were lots of pin collectors in the house [if you know you know, Olympic tourist regalia-wise]).But how is it as a monster movie? This year also saw the release of Son of Godzilla, and they share the theme of scaly giant monsters doing cute things. When the powers that be try to subdue Yongary with “sleep powder” (uh-huh), he gets all goofy, and the film’s obnoxious (as ever) lead moppet exclaims, “Hey! He’s dancing!” I also like how after the powers that be kill the monster, someone says  “We’re finished here now.” The armed forces appear to just leave his corpse to rot near houses and a river bed. Wholesome. VinSyn’s presentation is more than up to the outfit’s exacting standards.  — A