The Wish List: 'Underrated Sci-Fi' Edition

The cold and dark of the winter doldrums makes me want to retreat into my mind like Sam Lowry. Perhaps it's because I binged on some random sci-fi films last month, but I've been thinking about some underrated entries in the genre that deserve to be on my latest Wish List:

Looker (Michael Crichton, 1981)

If you're willing to accept the premise of a middle-aged, Beverly Hills plastic surgeon, portrayed by Albert Finney, as the film’s hero, you will be rewarded with a compelling conspiracy thriller beyond its time. Looker not only predicted deep fakes in media over forty years ago, but also presented the nefarious concept of subliminal messaging in television used to influence consumer behaviour and political decisions.

Looker is desperately in need of a remaster. The picture quality of the Warner Archive Blu-ray is far too grainy and the colours are flat. Arrow or Indicator would be ideal labels to restore the film, including inserting the famous deleted scene, featuring James Coburn, which provides crucial context to the plot.

The Hidden (Jack Sholder, 1987)

A gloriously 1980s sci-fi action film about an alien insect that crawls inside people and causing them to commit crimes, while blasting uptempo rock music. 

While The Hidden is frequently included in lists of underrated 1980s science fiction films, its status has largely remained unchanged. I revisited this film after noting its obvious inspiration for The Cat (1992) last month. Pleased to say that it has lost none of its appeal since first discovering it during my teens.

A film that would benefit with superior treatment from a label such as Vinegar Syndrome or 88 Films. 

Fortress (Stuart Gordon, 1992)

Admittedly, labelling this film underrated is tenuous, given its box office success and producing a sequel. However, pretty much anything directed by Stuart Gordon that isn't Re-Animator or From Beyond barely gets the same sort of physical media love as them. 

Set in a dystopian future, where having more than one child will get you a life sentence in a subterranean, maximum security prison, a remote explosive device in your stomach, and a cyborg Kurtwood Smith trying to steal your wife, Fortress is one one of the better movies to star Christopher Lambert where you needn't worry about him talking in a horrible Scottish accent. Pure B-movie entertainment, and a personal favourite amongst prison movie canon.

Fortress would make for a worthy release on 88 Films or Kino Lorber.

Beyond the Black Rainbow (Panos Cosmatos, 2010)

 

Given its abstract cinematography and deliberate slow-pacing, Beyond the Black Rainbow is more of a mood-driven experience than one with a traditional narrative. This gives it a certain pretentious art-house quality, for lack of a better description. However, its stunning retro-futuristic visual aesthetics make the feat of deciphering it, surprisingly worthwhile. It eventually treads into familiar slasher territory, too. That would explain why I find it so appealing.

Panos Cosmatos followed this film with the similarly experimental Mandy (2018), starring Nicolas Cage; another film that I adore.

Beyond the Black Rainbow would be a suitable release for a label like Second Sight, which knows a thing or two about curateing both modern cult films and traditional titles. 

The Platform (Galder Gaztelu-Urrutia, 2019)

I recently reviewed this allegorical film set within a dystopian brutalist prison. It is worth reiterating my profound impression of the film. While some scenes are very disturbing, it remains a captivating and challenging watch. Regrettably, its sequel was a significant disappointment and even undermined the original, to an extent.

Although a Netflix exclusive, The Platform was released on Blu-ray in Spain and Japan. These releases were not English-friendly. Therefore, the film is definitely in need of a Blu-ray release with English subtitles. Second Sight would be my pick to deliver the goods.

Underwater (William Eubank, 2020)

Similar to her former co-star Robert Pattinson, Kristen Stewart has starred in several films to distance herself from her association with the cultural ruin of the Twilight series. More recently, she starred in the enjoyable film Love Lies Bleeding (2024). My favourite example of this is Underwater, a science fiction thriller set at the bottom of the Mariana Trench with sea monsters. It might also be because K-Stew and Jessica Henwick wear skimpy underwear in it, too.

Sadly, this energetic, creature feature was caught up in the Covid kerfuffle. It's never received an official Blu-ray release in my region. Any of the aforementioned labels  would be a good distributor, to be honest. 

Scenes from a Marriage

It's been another incredible year thus far for Blu-ray and 4K UHD releases. For your humble host, notable releases include Grindhouse Releasing's completely stacked Lucio Fulci masterpiece The Beyond (1981), Arrow films' highly desired Sergio Leone Dollars Trilogy (1966 - 1968), and Hammer entering the boutique foray with Brian Clemens's Captain Kronos: Vampire Hunter (1974) (given the relaunched company's Doctor Jekyll (2023) flopped hard in cinemas, I don't really blame them). But the icing on the proverbial cake, for many, might very well be Second Sight's forthcoming release of Andrzej Żuławski's art-house horror Possession (1981) being released this December. The UK home distribution company initially announced the film's release over two years ago. Therefore, it's become a hotly anticipated title amongst cinephiles, collectors and greedy scalpers eager to flip it.

Truth be told, Possession is a film too surreal and ambiguous to completely define by even the brainiest film analysts. However, a short and general description would suggest it being about the psychological turmoil of a marriage falling apart; becoming horror manifest with some disturbing scenes. Thematically similar to David Cronenberg's The Brood (1979); which itself, served as an allegory to the bitter breakup the Canadian auteur had recently undergone. Żuławski had the benefit of shooting in the fractured city of Cold War era Berlin, adding to the film's central theme and creating a cold and captivating back drop in the process. The Polish director also managed to amass two career defining performances out of his two leads, Sam Neill and Isabelle Adjani. The experience left them both emotionally wrecked, and in the case of Adjani, she was left feeling suicidal.

Possession is often listed as one of the greatest films of all time amongst film critics, cinephiles and turd wave feminists. Call me a philistine, but despite its quality, it wouldn't get a spot in my ten favourite horror films released that very same year:

An American Werewolf in London (John Landis)

The Beyond (Lucio Fulci)

The Burning (Tony Maylam)  

Dark Night of the Scarecrow (Frank De Felitta)

Dead and Buried (Gary Sherman)

The Evil Dead (Sam Raimi)

Friday 13th Part 2 (Steve Miner) 

The Howling (Joe Dante)

The Prowler (Joseph Zito)

Scanners (David Cronenberg)

The Wish List: Part 9

Not done one of these for a while. Only three picks that deserve some boutique Blu-ray love this time around. It's the magic number. But seriously, though, it's because I can't be bothered to cover five this time. Still got PTSD doing that The Wicker Man review.

Blood and Roses (Roger Vadim, 1960)

After her tomb is disturbed by a fireworks display triggering an unexploded bomb, the ghost of vampire noblewoman Millarca Von Karnstein takes possession of her dead-ringer descendant Carmilla (Annette Stroyberg). Carmilla and Leopoldo (Mel Ferrer) might be a little more than just  'kissing cousins', but it's his fiancee, Georgia (Elsa Martinelli), which she finds herself thirsting for now. And so begins a potential affair between the two gorgeous babes while the odd servant gets bumped off.

Not the first adaptation of the most Frenchly named Irish man, Sheridan La Fanu's gothic novella, Carmilla, but it's perhaps the first to include its actual lesbian subtext; predating Hammer's own Karnstein films as well the ones from the European continent by almost a decade.

Roger Vadim had a great knack for casting beautiful women (notably those who married him) and making us think God created them, but boy is Stroyberg's acting equally as wooden as a stake in this. Still, both her and Martinelli (who wasn't married to Vadim) look like female perfection on film. It's all thanks to Claude Renoir's dreamily phantasmagoric cinematography, of course. Speaking of which, the film contains as an incredible dream sequence which may have inspired Tobe Hooper's terrifying window scenes from Salem's Lot (1979)

Caught this for the first time only just recently. While I find it baffling that any film with a less than 80 minutes run time still deems itself necessary to be a lethargically paced slow burner, I can't help but admire its innovative visual effects, as well as its mesmerising Bave-esque expressionism.

A high-definition upgrade is a must! It's an absolute sin that it's never been available on Blu-ray after all this time. Would be a perfect release by Radiance in between all the commie Italian movies and yakuza-themed snoozefests they constantly release.

 

The Ghoul (Freddie Francis, 1975)

Set in the roaring '20s, two middle-class British couples leave a party and do the most spontaneously bourgeois (therefore, entirely stupid) thing imaginable: race to Land's End in the middle of the night. Being a horror film and straying away from the basic premise of the light-hearted adventure comedy Genevieve (1951), things don't exactly go to plan. One way or another, they all end up on the premises of former clergyman, Doctor Lawrence (Peter Cushing). He also happens to keep his Hare Krishna cannibal son, locked up in the attic - the titular antagonist.

This has a great cast of recognisable actors. The Champions' Alexandra Bastedo and Hammer siren Veronica Carlson sporting a perm, rep the cult sirens department. The aforementioned Peter Cushing needs no introduction, similarly John Hurt is also great in this as a creepy caretaker. For trash hounds like myself, it's a real buzz to see the Ian MacCulloch in this before he became the quintessential Brit with a stiff upper lip and a comb over in various Italian horror movies.

Much like its other Tyburn Films brethren, Legend of the Werewolf (1974), that's also on a previous wish list and still unfulfilled, The Ghoul never even received the DVD treatment back in the day. Therefore, the only way to watch the film are the poor quality VHS rips uploaded on YouTube.

 

Near Dark (Kathryn Bigelow, 1987)

Small town farm boy Caleb Colton (Adrian Pasdar) unwillingly winds up joining a collective of vampires after falling for Madonna lookalike Mae (Jenny Wright). His sense of morality still prevails, however, which makes him yearn to be back on the farm with his father Loy (B-movie legend Tim Thomerson) and sister Sarah (Marcie Leeds). This might make him dead weight with his undead adoptive family, but he proves his worth after performing a daring rescue during a gunfight with the cops. 

Part neo-western and part vampire horror, Near Dark is a great example of how to blend two distinctively different genres into something uniquely entertaining. As a result, Near Dark is often put on the same podium with Fright Night (1985) and The Lost Boys (1987) as one of the greatest vampire flicks from the '80s.

The film also features a bunch of recognisable actors from the classic sci-fi sequel Aliens (1986), including, none other Bill Paxton; who essentially became the face of 1980s cinema for genre heads like myself. Paxton is unforgettable as the sadistic and utterly quotable vampire Severen. Also features the killer theme Fight at Dawn by Tangerine Dream and the best version of the song Fever, in my opinion.

Although Near Dark has already received the Blu-ray treatment, it's largely out of print and far too expensive to grab these days. Having been blown away with Second Sight's 4K UHD release of The Hitcher (1986), it's only right this gets a similar treatment (hopefully, by Second Sight too), and would make for an excellent double bill.

And that's your lot.

All the Little Devils Are Proud of Umbrella Entertainment

Wake in Fright | Official Restoration Trailer

Tedd Kotcheff  | 1971

 

With the exception of Kino Lorber's forthcoming release of the notorious Ilsa films on 4K UHD, the most sought after home release this year has to be Ted Kotcheff's classic, Aussie nightmare Wake in Fright (1971).

It's been a long wait, but one that seems to be worth it with just how superb Umbrella Entertainment's restoration seems to look so far. A significant contrast to the yellow colour grading of the film when it was released on Blu-ray in 2009. And to think, I always thought it looked that way to emphasise the scorching heat and all that beer in the film.

Hopefully, a more local distribution label will release this restoration around my neck of the woods, as I honestly can't justify paying a small fortune for any film, no matter how great it is, to be shipped from the other side of the world.

The Wish List: Part 8

I've struck it lucky a few times with these wish lists; even predicting distribution labels correctly.

Here are five more films which desperately need some well earned Blu-Ray or 4K UHD love.

The Creeping Flesh (Freddie Francis, 1973)

For a Tigon production, The Creeping Flesh has all the hallmarks of a Hammer horror film: the gothic Victorian setting; veterans of the legendary film company making up a significant portion of the cast and crew (Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee being the obvious examples), and of course a blood curdling monster which puts an entertaining spin on Charles Darwin's theories on evolution.

As far as Blu-Ray availability goes, The Creeping Flesh was released in 2017 as part of a three-pack by Mill Creek, which included Torture Garden (1967) and The Brotherhood of Satan (1971). The film quality is hardly exceptional, however. The other two films have been blessed since then with their own releases in superior picture quality and bonus features. This makes The Creeping Flesh even more wanting of some special high definition treatment.

The House with Laughing Windows (Pupi Avati, 1976)

Technically speaking, Pupi Avati's rural, slow burner has more in common with folk horror than it does with the sterotypical giallo. The House with Laughing Windows focuses on Lino Capolicchio's character being tasked with the restoration of a church fresco painting done by an insane artist. The film is laced with plenty of tension and dread throughout, culminating with a shockingly unforgettable ending. Which makes the film one of the more noteworthy films from the post-golden era of the giallo, not helmed by Dario Argento or Lucio Fulci.

As far as I'm aware, The House with Laughing Windows never received the Blu-Ray treatment anywhere in the world and it's definitely overdue for it. It's also one of the few remaining DVDs that I still own, since I haven't been able to replace it with a better version.

Cheerleader Camp AKA Bloody Pom Poms (John Quinn, 1988)

Another one of those '80s slashers that just as well falls into the giallo whodunnit formula as it does with the masked maniac on the loose. Cheerleader Camp is ludicrous with its premise of a summer camp for cheerleaders, which makes it difficult to take remotely seriously. However, its unapologetically low brow goofiness makes this quintessential late night viewing after you've had a few drinks. There's an abundance of T&A to compliment the blood spilled, which makes this somewhat precious considering the MPAA's crackdown on gore in horror films during this era. Lucinda Dickey better known as the possessed fitness instructor from Cannon's Ninja III: The Domination (1984) and the Breakin' movies (both of which from 1984), is one of the highlights in the film, the other is the numerous Playboy and Penthouse models being in it. However, what takes the bloody baton is the legendary B-movie actor Buck Flower not playing another hobo as usual.

Apart from a bootleg, there isn't a Blu-Ray of the film, which is crying shame as it's far more entertaining than some of the other late '80s slashers I've seen which have already received the boutique Blu-Ray treatment. This has Vinegar Syndrome written all over it.

5150 Elm's Way (Éric Tessier, 2009) 

A French-Canadian psychological horror about an innocent young lad held captive by a psychotic chess master and his family. His only chance of freedom is to beat his captor in a chess game. And so a lot of chess games ensue. Without spoiling the film, it leads to an unexpected outcome and one that I found rather unique. 

Being an end of the noughties film, 5150 Elm's Way is a classic example of those underrated films which fell through the cracks when DVD was gradually being replaced with Blu-Ray, so it never received the hi-def upgrade. Fingers crossed this gets picked up by a label like Radiance films or Second Sight.

No One Will Save You (Brian Duffield, 2023)

A virtually dialogue free alien invasion film. Hardly a new concept with the A Quiet Place franchise being so popular in recent years, but I'll gladly take the Pepsi Challenge and pick Brian Duffield's sci-fi gem over any of those other films. That's largely due to No One Will Save You reminding me of the classic The Twilight Zone's episode Invaders, along with an incredible performance from Kaitlyn Dever.

It's an absolute crime that the best film I watched in 2023 is still not available to buy on physical home media. Instead, you have be subscribed to HULU just to watch it. Still, some films from the company such as the mediocre Prey (2022) managed to get a physical release, and for this reason I'm cautiously optimistic it'll happen to a far more deserving film like this.

Anora to Anorak

Sean Baker's Anora was arguably one of the best films of 2024. Therefore, it shouldn't be a surprise how much cinephiles are looking forward to its home format release. Criterion's artwork for the forthcoming Blu-Ray/4K UHD is a winner for film nerds, as it supports the theory of Baker's films being as much in exploitation territory as they are in neorealism. The cover art is an obvious homage to the iconic pose of the stunning Soledad Miranda in Jesús Franco's The Devil Came from Akasava (1971).

The famous photo has also been used as artwork for other films helmed by Uncle Jess which feature the actress; notably Vampyros Lesbos (1971). The Criterion artwork is also about as close as we'll get to seeing Franco or Miranda receiving any sort of love from the elitist label. However, considering how much the tide has turned more favourably for Franco's films in recent years, you never know.

Home Format Releases of 2024

Another bumper, but bittersweet year for cinephiles with a vested interested in owning films on physical media.

More boutique labels were eager to cut out the customer convenience of purchasing off Amazon and pushing folk into ordering directly from their sites. Cutting out the middleman is understandable, but a right pain in the arse if something was available for pre-order off Amazon, months in advance, only to be withdrawn and already sold out elsewhere. My pre-order of The Stone Tape is the latest example. Hence, FOMO became an even bigger issue in 2024 and leading to more scalpers cashing-in on folk with money to burn.

2024 was also the year where quality issues were more prevalent with various major boutique releases having dodgy sound mixing or picture freezing. This would lead to the headache of having to get in touch with customer service and provide proof of purchase for a replacement disc, rather than automatically like some other labels.

Anyhow, without further ado, here are the physical media highlights for me this year:

The Flesh and Blood Show - The Horror Films of Pete Walker | Blu-Ray | 88 Films

The Hitcher | 4K | Second Sight

Inside the Mind of Coffin Joe | Blu-Ray | Arrow Films*

Looking for Mr. Goodbar | 4K | Vinegar Syndrome

Blake's 7: The Collection - Series 1 | Blu-Ray | BBC

The Blair Witch Project | Blu-Ray  |Second Sight

Columbia Horror | Blu-Ray | Indicator

Häxan | Blu-Ray | Radiance Films

Dawn of the Mummy | Blu-Ray | Treasured Films

Forgotten Gialli Vol. 7 | Blu-Ray | Vinegar Syndrome

J-Horror Rising | Blu-Ray | Arrow Films

The Sadness | 4K | Shudder

* Technically released last year, but the absence of subtitles on one of the discs meant the corrected set didn't come out until earlier this year.

With the proposed US tariffs, now might be a good time to pack it in with ordering overseas. Buying films is already an expensive hobby, and I can't see myself importing with the same frequency next year. Probably sticking to the home grown labels for the foreseeable future.

Also, managed to score most of Michel Soavi's oeuvre on 4K, which was released by Severin last year, during the Black Friday sales. Currently lumbered in some depot in Stanstead over Christmas. Anna Falchi in Dellamorte Dellamore (1994) on 4K ❤❤❤.

The Discreet Hypocrisy of the Bourgeoisie

Nothing defines Champagne Socialist so exemplary than a successful multi-millionaire actor, surrounded by overpriced blu-ray discs, and moaning about capitalism. 

While in the Criterion closet, Andrew Garfield ought to have protested about inequality instead of filling his totes bag; like the range of Criterion UK releases being absolutely pitiful compared to its corporate big brother across the pond, and why the latest 40% off discount sale in HMV has as much choice as an Eastern Bloc supermarket.

Here is a selection of UK Criterion titles which ought to have been part of the sale:

Double Indemnity (Billy Wilder, 1944)

Repulsion (Roman Polanski, 1965)

Happiness (Todd Solondz, 1988)

Do the Right Thing (Spike Lee, 1989)

Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (1992)

Menace II Society (Allen Hughes, Albert Hughes, 1993)

The Irishman (Martin Scorsese, 2019)

Severin’s cellar will always outshine the Criterion closet. Always. All the lucky folk invited into the hallowed basement appear more enthusiastic there than Cate Blanchett and Todd Field being poncey and boring like their film Tár (2022). The cellar has director Sean Baker geek out on giallo films and gushing over Laura Gemser — that's way more relatable to me. Pick of the lot is seeing Gaspar Noe going Supermarket Sweep.

Liberator Liberated

Blake's 7 (Season One Trailer)

Various, 1978

Another Dada Debaser wish come true! Terry Nation's sci-fi series Blake's 7 (1978-1981) is receiving some blu-ray love from the BBC this autumn, according to a recent announcement. At least... the first series is.

Truthfully; I never saw it really happening on account of infinitely more popular BBC programmes like Porridge (1974-1977) and Open All Hours (1976-1985)  still only being available on DVD format.

Other films sprinkled with the Dada Debaser magic dust are listed below, along with the respective labels which released them:

Freaks - Criterion

Blood Sucking Freaks - Vinegar Syndrome

After Hours - Criterion

Evil Dead Trap 2: Hideki - 88 Films

A Gun for Jennifer - Vinegar Syndrome

"Do You Wanna Know What Happens to an Eyeball When it Gets Punctured?"

The wait is almost over, Second Sight Films is close to releasing Robert Harmon's horror thriller The Hitcher (1986) in a couple of months. This particular physical release was already eagerly anticipated when this blog was created, so it's been a while.

The premise of the film is a cautionary tale as to never pick up a hitch hiker or they just might be a psychopath like the one an unlucky C. Thomas Howell picks up.

The Hitcher (Coin Scene)

Robert Harmon, 1986

 

Rutger Hauer will always be remembered as the killer android Roy Batty in the sci-fi classic Blade Runner (1982) and those old Guiness ads, but many seem to forget, or are just unaware of, his mesmerising performance as the sadistic, serial killer John Ryder. Sean Bean was never able to match it in the forgettable 2007 remake. 

The original The Hitcher has aged like fine wine, but I can't say the same for C. Thomas Howell's other 1986 film, though.

The Wish List: Gogglebox Edition

Not done one of these wish lists in a long while and this is a good opportunity to shine some light on  a few vintage television shows I've been meaning to watch. Trouble is, they're either not available to stream or they're hard to cop on blu-ray. It would take forever noting every television series that I consider worthy of some blu-ray love, but the ones listed below always seem to be recurring in my mind the most.

Blake's 7 (Various, 1978 - 1981)

Considering how Terry Nation, the writer for some of the most revered episodes from the longest ever sci-fi series Doctor Who (1963 - 2024), is so universally praised by fans, it's a huge shame that his own BBC creation, Blake's 7 (1978 - 1981), isn't even available on iPlayer. Other than the Liberator spaceship which looks like it might have been kitbashed with a microphone, and the few clips online of Paul Darrow's anti-hero swagger as Kerr Avon, I can barely remember much of the series other than the very last notes of its theme reminding me a little of Boogie Down Productions' song Illegal Business. The downbeat last episode is still to this very day a controversial subject matter amongst its fans, but that only proves how seriously passionate they still are for a show which ended over forty years ago.

EDIT: Had no idea Terry Nation wrote the story for one of my favourite Hitchcockian thrillers And Soon the Darkness (1970) until making this post.

The Mad Death (Robert Young, 1983)

A rabies outbreak ocurring in the UK appeared to be a real threat back in the day. It was signicant enough for the government to issue warnings over it, including terrifying public information films throughout the seventies and eighties. The 1994 opening of the Channel Tunnel must have been pure fear for some viewers familiar with the BBC mini-series The Mad Death (1983) which aired a decade earlier. Based on a book by Nigel Slater (yes, the poncey food journo and presenter), the TV adaptation was a disturbing drama focused on a potential outbreak. Much like the classic made for television, nuclear holocaust film, Threads (1984), it did not hold back in shocking viewers. If the chilling opening titles weren't enough to leave you in a state of unease, then keep watching for scenes of a child being mauled by rabid dogs, foaming patients dying in their hospital beds, and the brutal culling of man's best friend. For a nation of pet lovers this was considerably shocking for prime time TV.

Hammer House of Mystery and Suspense (Various, 1984)

Kind of funny how so many Hammer fans have a fond memory for its first television outing Hammer House of Horror (1980), but another series repping the moniker, known as Hammer House of Mystery and Suspense (1984) is so largely obscure. That's no fault of their own as its ridiculously hard to find these days without shelling out serious money for an old tobacco tainted DVD collectionm on eBay. "In Possession" is the only episode I remember with some clarity as it contains one of the best twist endings I had ever witnessed in any medium (right up there with Charlton Heston finding the Statue of Liberty, in my opinion). It's too bad Network Releasing went under as this would have been the perfect accompaniment to their fine blu-ray release of Hammer House of Horror.

Dead Set (Yann Demange, 2008)

Dead Set was the brainchild of cultural satirist and Black Mirror creator, Charlie Brooker. Ingeniously captiialising on the popularity of the reality series Big Brother, the mini-series managed to buck the oversaturated landscape of the zombie renaissance by offering some hilarious British social commentary and some of the goriest scenes for a television series at the time. The irony of what's probably the last living humans on the planet are Big Brother housemates was part of its appeal. Dead Set also featured Davina McCall, a former presenter of Big Brother, being one of my fave zombies on screen. It's criminal how this was only ever released on DVD in its home country, but available on blu-ray in both Germany and Spain. Craving this like brains.

The Wish List: Criterion Edition

Fair to say that 2023 was one of the best years for physical media since the COVID-19 lockdowns. It was also the year which redeemed Criterion, the label of choice for annoying cinephiles. Personally, I've always found its reputation as the curator of the crème de la crème in film pompously pretentious, but its 4K releases of Martin Scorsese's After Hours and Tod Browning's Freaks earned it some positive points from me after its censoring of William Friedkin's The French Connection on its streaming channel.

And so, here are six films (I ended up doing one extra by mistake and spent too long writing it to delete it, but I'll pretend it was intentional) which would further elevate my approval of the "prestigious film label" by simultaneously catering to degenerates such as myself and its horrible fanbase consisting of poncey snobs: 

The Sadist (James Landis, 1963)

How is Critierion going to have Terrence Malick's Badlands (1973) and not include the film which started the trend for murderous psycho couples?  James Landis's The Sadist is a shocking film, laced with levels of nihilistic violence that feels well ahead of its time. If that's not enough, it's blessed with stupendous levels of suspense and tension to satisfy the Hitchcock crowd, too. The Sadist might fall under the juvenile deliquency umbrella of exploitation cinema, but it definitely deserves to be evaluated as a legitimately finely honed thriller by all the kino heads. One of my favourite discoveries from last year.

Looking for Mr. Goodbar (Richard Brooks, 1977)

Admittedly, I haven't watched this film since catching it on TV sometime in the mid-eighties, therefore, I really don't know how well it holds up today, but I do remember being intrigued by it. Also, I’m convinced the LL Cool J song serves more as a reference to the film than the actual candy bar of the same name. I do remember the ending being unexpectedly brutal, however. Diane Keaton plays a goody two shoes school teacher by day, who rebels against her strict Catholic upbringing by getting involved with various dodgy blokes in smokey bars at night. Apparently, the film forever changed bar culture by women no longer commonly frequenting watering holes alone It's a shame the film is out of print after casting such a spot light on the perils of hooking-up.

Nineteen Eighty-Four (Michael Radford, 1984)

How weird is it that so many words and phrases originating from George Orwell's classic dystopian nightmare have made it into the English lexicon, and yet, you can barely find Michael Radford's adaptation of it anywhere? A real shame, as it's not only amongst the best British films to have come out during the eighties, but it also boasts the last great performance of the legendary Richard Burton along with John Hurt's brilliant portrayal of protagonist Winston Smith. Nineteen Eighty-Four has been released by Criterion in the US, but it's way too expensive to import it over here, sadly.

Man Bites Dog (Rémy Belvaux, Benoît Poelvoorde & André Bonzel, 1992)

Unlike the August Underground trilogy, this is how the cinéma vérité style should be when realising serial killer(s) on film. Man Bites Dog accomplishes a remarkable feat by simultaneously having me laughing and being disturbed by it. It's an entertaining mockumentary where a roaming film crew become complicit accomplices with their subject matter, a Beligian serial killer. It's a powerful commentary on film violence and how we're desensitised by it. A criminally forgotten film today which had a lot of contoversy upon its release with the tabloid press screaming for it to be banned.

Fresh (Boaz Yakin, 1994)

Thankful for Criterion having released Deep Cover (1992) as it has aged remarkably well today; working well as both a nineties neo-noir and as part of the collective of rapsploitation films which were common during that era. Boaz Yakin's Fresh is another film worthy of the same treatment, as it also straddles the thin line of typical rapsploitation and NY indie cinema. The film contains an impressive cast, which includes Giancarlo Esposito, Samuel L. Jackson and the best child actor since Fool from The People Under the Stairs (1991). Fresh follows the same plot template as Yojimbo (1961), A Fistful of Dollars (1964) and The Warrior and the Sorceress (1984) as they're all based on Dashiell Hammett's novel, Red Harvest.

The Chaser (Na Hong-jin, 2008)

Much like that saying about cunninlingus: for everyone who won't, there's someone who will. South Korean cinema has risen in popularity due to American films not being able to or unwilling to make films they were once lauded for. Na Hong-jin's debut is a fantastic film which feels like the missing link between Old Boy (2003) and I Saw the Devil (2010); that already puts it in good company. It's a shame it doesn't get the appreciation it deserves as it one of the shining offerings which really put Korean cinema on the map for me in the noughties.

Couldn't care less which label releases these films on blu-ray; I just care about making these films easier to get hold of, in all honesty. As mentioned earlier, I don't agree with the echochamber of Criterion being the purveyors of great cinema; they're more of a status label more than anything else, but having more films like the ones listed above might have me improving my opinion on the label.

Home Format Releases of 2023

An incredible year for boutique label releases. You know it's a bumper year when both the Pete Walker and Coffin Joe box sets being delayed until next year offers you a chance to watch all the amazing titles you ended up coppin'. It's not hyperbole, 2023 was the best year in home format releases since 2020. Fact!

The only real downside was not being able to grab everything as it would leave you skint. Personally, many desirable titles were way beyond my threshold of an acceptable price range, thus that 4 disc 4K release of Dellamorte Dellamore, and a bunch of other Severin releases for that matter, were sadly avoided. Similarly, newcomers from across the pond like Neon Eagle and Terror-Vision didn't even get a look-in due to their pricing and shipping costs. Therefore, my personal picks of the year were shaped mostly by local labels.

Home Format Releases of 2023:

Enter the Video Store - Empire of Screams (Arrow)

Magic Myth & Mutilation: The Micro Budget Cinema of Michael J. Murphy 1967 - 2015 (Indicator)

Blood and Black Lace (Arrow)

From Hollywood to Heaven: The Lost and Saved Films of the Ormond Family (Indicator)

The House that Screamed (Arrow)

Full Circle (BFI)

Blood Sucking Freaks (Vinegar Syndrome)

Targets (BFI)

After Hours (Criterion)

A Gun for Jennifer (Vinegar Syndrome)

The Defilers (AGFA/Something Weird Video)

Black Magic Rites (Indicator)

Messiah of Evil (Radiance Films)

Freaks / The Unknown / The Mystic: Todd Browning's Sideshow Shockers (Criterion)

Martin (Second Sight)

The Whip and the Body (88 Films)

Some of the films which got the boutique treatment were on my wish lists, so finally owning them and getting to watch them in all their glory, made them welcome highlights in 2023. That new artwork for A Gun for Jennifer is still atrocious, regardless.

It was also somewhat strange seeing a few of my personal highlights make it on various critics' favourite physical releases this year, too.

Looking forward to what 2024 might bring, maybe we'll finally get The Hitcher after the last couple of years in delays.

Picks of 1973

At the risk of sounding like an old curmudgeon, the overall quality and variety of films made in 1973 puts recent years to shame. I'm not alone with this opinion, either. It should come as no surprise that many films from 1973 have been celebrating their fiftieth anniversary via national events at the cinema and expensive home format releases.

Some of these films are regarded as masterpieces amongst chin-stroking cinephiles, while others are considered cult classics to genre afficionados; what's more important is the fact that they're invaluable entertainment for your host:

And Now the Screaming Starts (Roy Ward Baker)

Badlands (Terrence Malick)

Black Caesar (Larry Cohen)

A Candle for the Devil (Eugenio Martin)

The Candy Snatchers (Guerdon Trueblood)

Carry on Girls (Gerald Thomas)

Charley Varrick (Don Siegel)

Coffy (Jack Hill)

The Crazies (George A. Romero)

The Creeping Flesh (Freddie Francis)

Don't Look Now (Nicolas Roeg)

Enter the Dragon (Robert Clouse)

The Exorcist (William Friedkin)

Fantastic Planet (René Laloux) 

Female Prisoner Scorpion: Beast Stable (Shunya Itō)

Flesh for Frankenstein (Paul Morrissey)

The Golden Voyage of Sinbad (Gordon Hessler)

Hell Up in Harlem (Larry Cohen)

High Plains Drifter (Clint Eastwood)

The Holy Mountain (Alejandro Jodorowsky)

Horror Hospital (Anthony Balch)

The Hourglass Sanatorium (Wojciech Has)

Immoral Tales (Walerian Borowczyk)

The Iron Rose (Jean Rollin)

Lady Snowblood (Toshiya Fujita)

The Legend of Hell House (John Hough)

Live and Let Die (Guy Hamilton)

The Long Goodbye (Robert Altman)

Magnum Force (Ted Post)

Maletasta's Carnival of Blood (Christopher Speeth)

Mean Streets (Martin Scorsese)

Messiah of Evil (Gloria Katz & Willard Huyck)

The Night Strangler (Dan Curtis)

Papillon (Franklin J. Schaffner)

Revolver (Sergio Sollima)

Scream Blacula Scream (Bob Kelljan)

Serpico (Sidney Lumet)

Soylent Green (Richard Fleischer)

Steptoe and Son Ride Again (Peter Sykes)

Terminal Island (Stephanie Rothman)

Theatre of Blood (Douglas Hickox)

Torso (Sergio Martino)

The Vault of Horror (Roy Ward Baker)

Westworld (Michael Crichton)

The Wicker Man (Robin Hardy)

Only film I copped during the fiftieth anniversary celebrations was Messiah of Evil as it finally got a proper release in my country. The whole design of this blog takes obvious style inspiration from the film:

Messiah of Evil (Radiance Films Trailer)

Gloria Katz & Willard Huyck, 1973

An Artist for Jennifer

How uncanny is it that three of the Dirty New Yorker films which featured on my physical media wish list earlier this year have now become a reality? For the unaware those are: After Hours, Blood Sucking Freaks and now A Gun for Jennifer. I was doubly prophetic by also naming Vinegar Syndrome as the film's licensed distributor. Neglected genre classic! Prestigious restoration label of forgotten cinema! A match made in heaven.

Don’t mean to sound a snob, like the late art critic Brian Sewell, but why does this release have such unsuitable and lacklustre artwork? It really doesn’t fit the dark and gritty nature of the film, neither does it look on par with the rest of the top notch package art from Vinegar Syndrome’s releases.

Vinegar Syndrome's A Gun for Jennifer front cover and reverse cover artwork. Gutted!

Beggars can't be choosers, I'm still coppin’ it; the picture quality for the new trailer alone looks better than my old German DVD of the film. Considering how many years I've been praying for a high definition release of this, it would be a bit rich avoiding this just for its disappointing new art.

In hindsight, considering the newly commissioned comic book style artwork, I ought to have also wished for an illustrator who would have been a far worthier candidate; like the legendary master of graphic sex and violence, Tim Vigil. Alternatively, I wouldn’t have minded the O.G. art from the nineties; evoking the omnipresent popularity of the erotic thriller from that era:

Original artwork for A Gun for Jennifer from 1997.

King and Abel

King of New York (Abel Ferrara Commentary Highlights)

Abel Ferrara, 1990

Despite all the films watched, I've barely made a dent in checking out any of the audio commentaries available. Mostly given up on them on account of them being nowhere near as entertaining as the ones John Carpenter has done with his cast in the past.

Took a gamble with Abel Ferrara as I was itching to revisit his classic gangster thriller King of New York. Other than him recollecting how some of the scenes were shot and lit (for all you budding film makers lurking out there, Congo Blue was what used for those night shots), along with his suprisingly pervy comments regarding some of the female cast members, here are some of the new things I learned about the film:

• The $5,000 Ferrara charged for the audio commentary.
  
• Ferrara's commenting on the film's fashion aesthethic consisting of everyone being dressed in black and likened to "They dropped the neutron bomb and all the colour of New York (was) gone", and "How can you be cool if you don't have shades on?" 
• Ferrara in hysterics everytime Steve Buscemi showed up on screen.
  
• The memorable hotel dance scene being summed up by Ferrara as "This is as phoney as you can get".
• James Russo turned down the role of Jimmy Jump. It's impossible even trying to imagine any other actor playing what's possibly Larry Fishburne's most iconic role.
• Did not realise that Jennifer, Frank White's lawyer girlfriend, was the female lead in Paul Lynch's sophomore slasher, the criminally underrated Humongous (1982). It also didn't click for me until now that the newly wed cop was played by the same actor who was Jeffrey Franken in Frankehooker (1990).
• The night of the film's premiere at the New York Film Festival, it was given a very positive reception. The very next morning with Larry Fishburne in attendance, it was booed. Talk about a totally different crowd!
• Michael Mann telling Ferrara to end the film with Frank ascending the subway steps to suggest a possible sequel 
• Ferrara playing his acoustic guitar and singing a multitute of "N" bombs during the end credits while ruining my enjoyment of Schoolly D's Saturday Night:

Schoolly D - Saturday Night

Saturday Night! - The Album, 1986