Making her feature debut with an expanded adaptation of her 2009 short, Gillian Robespierre shows plenty of talent and even more promise in “Obvious Child,” a low-budget comedy attracting as much attention for its subject matter as it is for star Jenny Slate’s breakout performance. Slate plays Donna Stern, a smart, underemployed stand-up comic whose candid onstage disclosures drive away an already unfaithful boyfriend. Reeling from the lost relationship, Donna takes refuge in alcohol and an impulsive one-night stand that leads to unexpected fertilization. The plan to terminate the pregnancy is presented as Donna’s straightforward choice – rare in a genre where the full-term outcomes of “Juno” and “Knocked Up” are the standard. 

Robespierre has expressed frustration at the way the movie has been labeled online and in print, stating in a “Variety” interview with Brent Lang that “journalists have used the shorthand ‘abortion comedy,’ but that makes it feel small.” Even so, Donna’s decision becomes the motivating issue in the organization of the film’s narrative chronology, climax, and denouement. Abortion has not been entirely foreign to comedies, satires, and comedy-dramas. “The Last American Virgin” (and “Eskimo Limon,” the hugely popular Israeli movie upon which it was based), “Fast Times at Ridgemont High,” “Citizen Ruth,” “Dogma,” and “Palindromes” all dealt to varying degrees with a topic that industry self-censorship organizations had for years discouraged even mentioning.

As explored by Eve Kushner, Lauren Rosewarne, and many others, the most common abortion trope in popular film is not the depiction of a sympathetic protagonist who chooses the procedure. It is instead the firmly established narrative precedent that “Good Girls Avoid Abortion,” the very name bestowed on the convention in the TV Tropes wiki article on the topic. In two separate “Slate” pieces, Roxanne Khamsi and Amanda Hess note the disproportionate number of TV and movie characters who die as a result of choosing abortion. Historically, the overwhelming majority of screen characters who discover an unplanned pregnancy opt against abortion.

Anti-choice viewers will find little to like about Slate’s Donna, whose sense of humor also reveals monumental irreverence about the “human vagina” and its impact on undergarments. The character’s scatological obsession sustains multiple fart and poop jokes. Some gags, like the accidental flatulence that earns one character the nickname “pee farter,” are funnier than others. The screenplay depends on a few contrivances that stretch credulity and would feel more at home in a duller, less imaginative universe. My vote for the worst scene is the revelation that one-night stand Max is a student of Donna’s mother. Max returns a book to her home when Donna happens to be visiting.
Robespierre squeezes every pretty penny out of the licensing fee paid for the Paul Simon song that also gives the movie its title. Featured prominently in the trailer and more than once in the feature itself, “The Obvious Child” underscores one of the best sloppy/goofy underwear dance scenes since Mark Ruffalo and Kirsten Dunst cavorted in “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.” While some have speculated on the title song’s meaning in relation to Donna’s pregnancy, the track certainly works as an allusion to the main character’s arrested development and slacker status. No matter what the interpretation, the propulsive, infectious batucada pounded out by Simon’s Bahian collaborators Olodum on the opening tune from “The Rhythm of the Saints” is an inspired pick.

Large vehicles of transportation are the basis for three notable films released to Blu-ray over the past several weeks, all nominated for Academy Awards (two for original screenplay, one for black-and-white cinematography).

“Fate Is the Hunter” (1964), inspired by a best-selling book, came out on Blu-ray in May and should have special appeal for the many local aviation students. An airliner crashes shortly after takeoff with only one survivor, with the media and airline executives quick to blame “pilot error” because the pilot was seen at a bar shortly before the flight and also had a loose reputation with women. One executive, however (Glenn Ford), an old war buddy of the dead pilot (Rod Taylor), refuses to believe his old friend would ever endanger his crew or passengers. As FAA officials try to reconstruct the remains of the plane, he conducts his own private investigation, leading to a number of flashbacks, and eventually he arranges to recreate the flight step by step to figure out what really happened.

Starting out as a typical Hollywood disaster film, it soon becomes an involving mystery, with good performances by Ford and Taylor, supported by Nancy Kwan, Suzanne Pleshette, Wally Cox, Nehemiah Persoff, and Mark Stevens. There’s also a cameo appearance by Jane Russell playing herself in a wartime flashback.

Twilight Time’s Blu-ray has a fine HD image that shows off the film’s Oscar-nominated black-and-white CinemaScope cinematography. Quality of the mono soundtrack is also quite good. Bonus features include an illustrated pamphlet, an isolated music score (in stereo) with audio commentary between music cues by Nancy Kwan with film historian Nick Redman, a trailer, and a feature-length documentary on the career of Kwan.
FATE IS THE HUNTER on Blu-ray – Movie: A-  /  Video: A   /  Audio: A   /  Extras: B+

“The Train” (1964) made its Blu-ray debut in June. Its Oscar-nominated script was based on an actual World War II incident along similar lines as the recent film “The Monuments Men.” In this case, a cultured but ruthless Nazi colonel (Paul Scofield) plans to ship a trainload of priceless French artworks to Germany before the allies invade. The Paris stationmaster (Burt Lancaster) decides to conspire with the Resistance to delay and then divert the train to save France’s artistic legacy, even though none of the working-class railroaders have ever even seen the paintings. Noted French actors Jeanne Moreau Suzanne, Flon, Michel Simon, Albert Rémy, and more make up the strong supporting cast.

Director John Frankenheimer balances the philosophical concerns about preserving art vs. human lives with exciting tension and spectacular action scenes, often brilliantly staged in long takes for an elaborately moving camera. The beautifully-lit and expertly-composed black-and-white images intensify the drama and showcase the remarkable effects done with real trains and explosives long before the days of CGI. It’s also obvious that Lancaster is performing his own highly dangerous stunts.

The HD transfer on Twilight Time’s Blu-ray is sharp and film-like and the mono sound is excellent. Bonus features are a pamphlet, a trailer, an isolated music score (in stereo), and two audio commentaries, one by the director that’s interesting but sparse and one by three historians that’s packed with fascinating information.
THE TRAIN on Blu-ray – Movie: A-  /  Video: A   /  Audio: A   /  Extras: B

“Operation Petticoat” (1959) showed up on Blu-ray this month. Blake Edwards directed the Oscar-nominated screenplay chronicling the comic adventures of a World War II submarine that became one of the year’s top-grossing films. Cary Grant stars as the captain who tries to get his damaged vessel seaworthy after Pearl Harbor with the aid of his devious scavenging-savvy supply officer (Tony Curtis). Eventually limping out to sea towards a base that can provide proper repairs they rescue five army nurses stranded on a besieged island, and then have to learn to cohabit peacefully. Things take an embarrassing turn when they need to repaint the hull, but there is not enough red or white paint so they have to mix it and wind up with a bright pink submarine.
Picture quality on Olive’s Blu-ray is fine, with rich colors and a film-like look. Some white scratches and dirt near the ends of reels indicate wear on the original negative (a byproduct of its popularity). Audio quality is also quite good. Unfortunately there are no bonus features other than a main and chapter menu.
OPERATION PETTICOAT on Blu-ray—Movie: B+  /  Video: A   /  Audio: A   /  Extras: F

Pop culture chronicler Alexandre O Philippe, whose tremendously entertaining 2010 documentary “The People vs. George Lucas” examined the devotion of “Star Wars” fan communities, applies a similar approach in “Doc of the Dead.” Philippe splatters his canvas with bloody, broad brushstrokes, painting a rapid-fire array of talking heads both noteworthy and obscure to contextualize the development of zombiphilia. On-camera interviews with authorities like George A. Romero, Simon Pegg, Tom Savini, Bruce Campbell, and Robert Kirkman are interspersed with liberal doses of movie clips from established classics and no-budget, backyard labors of love. Even zombies can’t be all things to all living people, however, and “Doc of the Dead” is best when it remains focused on the details of great genre films.

Zombie emperor Romero shares stories with his typical candor and humility, and “Doc of the Dead” would make a good double feature with Rob Kuhns’s “Birth of the Living Dead,” the 2013 film that focuses specifically on 1968’s seminal, game-changing “Night of the Living Dead.” Everyone in Philippe’s movie agrees that there is no single figure in the zombiverse more important to its evolution than Romero, and the filmmaker digs in to both “Night of the Living Dead” – with assists from co-screenwriter John Russo and actors Judith O’Dea and Russell Streiner – and Romero’s phenomenal 1978 sequel “Dawn of the Dead.”

The latter film is cited for a number of Romero’s brilliant genre contributions, including the perfect consumerist metaphor encapsulated in the film’s shopping mall setting, humorously described by Philippe via footage of rabid bargain hunters congregating outside a big box store on “Black Friday.” “Day of the Dead” is discussed primarily in the context of Sherman Howard’s fantastic performance as Bub, a turn that Pegg affectionately compares to Boris Karloff’s iconic interpretation of Frankenstein’s monster as a reminder that Romero can even be credited with realigning audience sympathies to allow us to root for the shambling flesh eaters – a rare occurrence in the canon.

Philippe loves the well-practiced one-liners of “The Zombie Survival Guide” and “World War Z” author Max Brooks, and “Doc of the Dead” outlines all kinds of scientific correlations, rules, and guidelines, including an informal referendum on the slow versus fast zombie debate. One of the movie’s most engrossing segments investigates the links between race, slavery, Haitian voodoo and pre-“Night of the Living Dead” interpretations of zombies on film. Philippe pauses to briefly acknowledge Victor Halperin’s influential “White Zombie” (1932), but skitters past other important titles. Brief mention is made of “I Walked with a Zombie” (1943), but Philippe pretty much skips international contributions, like the work of Italy’s Lucio Fulci and the “Blind Dead” series by Spaniard Amando de Ossorio.

Of course, running time makes it impossible to cover every important zombie movie, especially when surveying such a vast and varied genre, and Philippe can be credited for squeezing in mentions of many influential titles, from the brutal but comic fatalism of “Return of the Living Dead,” which popularized the notion of zombies as brain eaters, to the libido-driven sensuality of “Re-Animator,” in which Stuart Gordon inverts a central zombie tenet by, as producer Brian Yuzna indicates, giving the priapic Dr. Hill “a stronger idea of who he is” once he becomes a corpse. A case is also made that Pegg and Edgar Wright’s socially aware “Shaun of the Dead” closely follows “Night of the Living Dead” in importance, especially in terms of jumpstarting the contemporary wave of zombie popularity.

Among the most successful content creators of the current zombie apocalypse is “The Walking Dead” writer Kirkman, who notes, “I will plainly say that Bram Stoker is to Stephenie Meyer as George Romero is to Robert Kirkman.” “The Walking Dead” aside, the film’s final section speculates on the danger of zombie saturation, and Philippe lists a variety of cottage industries that have expanded production in the wake of zombie fever. Zombie video games, pub crawls, organized runs, immersive live action role play, television commercials, pornographic parodies, and survival preparedness gear manufacturers have all benefited from our ongoing fascination with the thin, mysterious veil between life and what happens to us after we die. That curiosity means the undead business is not likely to satiate its hunger anytime soon.

“Doc of the Dead” is now available on Netflix instant watch and other online platforms.

Modern movies are a passive experience, with recorded music, dialogue, and sound effects synchronized to the image. Before sound film technology was perfected, however, the movies were more of an interactive performance art that was different at every theatre and at every showing. The picture on the film remained the same during the so-called “silent” era, but the sound was performed live at the theatre. This could be a full orchestra in large theatres, usually playing scores compiled from a music library of moods, or by a single musician on a piano or pipe organ in smaller theatres, improvising while the movie played and usually seeing films for the first time on opening night. Reacting both to the scenes unfolding on the screen as well as the audience response, a talented accompanist could make up appropriate music and sometimes sound effects to match the action more closely than an orchestra, which had to play from sheet music.

The annual Summer Cinema series at MSUM continues this tradition with four evenings of classic silent films on Mondays in July, each accompanied live on the Wurlitzer theatre pipe organ in the Weld Hall auditorium. Each will also be introduced by an area film specialist. Showtimes are at 7:30 pm and admission is $4. Pre-show organ music performed by Red River Chapter members of the American Theatre Organ Society begins at 7:15 p.m.

Starting off the series on July 7 is the romantic comedy-drama, “It” (1927), starring Clara Bow. The title is a 1920s slang term for charisma and sexual magnetism. Bow, who might be considered the Marilyn Monroe of her era and has no real counterparts among today’s stars, personified this concept and was known as the “It” girl. The story of a shopgirl who falls for the store’s owner who doesn’t know she exists was a cliché even then, but Bow brings a vitality to her character that sucks the viewer in. The screenplay also weaves in some surprisingly strong social commentary about double standards when she helps out a neighbor being harassed by meddling social workers and people mistakenly believe she is an unwed mother. Naturally, the heartbroken Clara schemes a comic revenge on her boss for mistrusting her. Lance Johnson will score the film on the Wurlitzer, and I will be on hand to introduce the program.

On July 14 Dr. Tony Adah will introduce the screening of “The Three Musketeers” (1921), which will be accompanied by Dave Knudtson. Alexandre Dumas’ historical action-adventure “The Three Musketeers” has been filmed countless times over the past century. Douglas Fairbanks’ broadly entertaining version was such a hit that he abandoned his modern-day action-comedies to concentrate on swashbuckling adventures. (This film also inspired French comic Max Linder to do his own feature-length parody, “The Three Must-Get-Theres” the following year.) Fairbanks, of course, plays D’Artagnan, the young hero who comes to Paris to join the king’s musketeers. Director Fred Niblo, who would make “Ben-Hur” four years later, sets up the plot slowly, building the intrigue in the court of Louis XIII with Cardinal Richelieu, the queen, and the British Duke of Buckingham before the main action gets going.

July 21 will be the groundbreaking dinosaur adventure-fantasy, “The Lost World” (1925), the first major special-effects film, blending stop-motion animation by pioneer Willis O’Brien with live actors. Based on Arthur Conan Doyle’s novel, the plot blends the exciting jungle adventure of a newspaper-financed expedition to a remote South American plateau for their reporter and an eccentric professor to prove dinosaurs still exist, with a fairly trite romantic triangle of an aging big-game hunter and the daughter of a lost explorer who falls for the reporter. Larry Schwartz will introduce the program and Lance Johnson will play the theatre organ.

The series wraps up July 28 with a selection of four classic but somewhat lesser-known short movies by the legendary comedy stars of the silent era: Buster Keaton’s “The Blacksmith” (1922), Charlie Chaplin’s “The Fireman” (1916), Harold Lloyd’s “From Hand to Mouth” (1919), and “Should Married Men Go Home?” (1928) starring Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy. Emily Beck will introduce the films and Dave Knudtson will provide the live pipe organ music. As tradition, after this final program of the summer, there will be complimentary treats served in the lobby area.

Every single penny of its modest budget up on the screen, William Eubank’s “The Signal” integrates impressive special effects in a manner similar to Josh Trank’s “Chronicle,” another out-of-the-blue science fiction thriller about a group of smart young people in over their heads. Unfortunately, “The Signal” lacks a great deal of the adrenalized rush found in “Chronicle” – despite its own high octane ambitions – and labors under the weight of too many frustrating hairpin turns in the careless script by Eubank, his brother Carlyle Eubank, and David Frigerio. Despite numerous promising stylistic flourishes and several moments of inspired visual design, “The Signal” takes itself too seriously. It’s the kind of movie that one imagines was way more fun to make than it is to watch.

Eubank begins well, effectively sketching the tensions of a westbound road trip taken by M.I.T. whiz kids Nic (Brenton Thwaites) and Jonah (Beau Knapp) on their way to deliver Nic’s girlfriend Haley (Olivia Cooke) to a university on the coast. Involved in an escalating online battle with a mysterious hacker who goes by the handle Nomad, Nic and Jonah make the dubious decision to use their computer skills to locate and confront their challenger. When the journey leads them to a creepy, seemingly abandoned shack in the middle of nowhere, most audience members will groan at the movie’s first major head-scratching leap of faith: why would a couple of ridiculously intelligent kids seek out a confrontation in the dead of night with an antagonistic creeper who has been taunting them with evidence of his surveillance powers? 

It only gets worse from there, as the boys make the laughable decision to explore the structure’s basement while Haley remains by herself in the car. Sure. What happens next is a fleeting mash-up of “The Blair Witch Project” and “Signs,” followed by Nic waking up in a subterranean research facility/quarantine area where the calm but menacing Damon (Laurence Fishburne) interrogates the understandably freaked out young man. While the presence of Fishburne lends “The Signal” a strong dose of Morpheus cred, Eubank starts running in circles, working the paranoia and second-guessing to a frenzy without making up his mind whether or to what extent the viewer should buy the secret operation subterfuge.

Separated from a now comatose Haley, Nic discovers he can communicate with Jonah through a convenient air vent, just another of the movie’s endless red flags/red herrings/obvious tip-offs before revelation time. Outside the hazmat hospital, Eubank introduces a few divertissements, the best of which is an encounter with an Area 51 cuckoo played by the indispensable Lin Shaye and the worst of which is the tired fallback of a bullet-riddled, slow motion, machine gun showdown that makes zero sense once the big epiphanies are leaked during the movie’s final, optically dazzling movement.
Another unfortunate similarity “The Signal” shares with “Chronicle” is a blinkered point of view so male-centric that Cooke’s Haley is repeatedly silenced, shackled, and ignored. In a suspenseful attempted escape that is arguably the movie’s best scene, Haley lies unconscious on a gurney while Nic tries to wheel them out of the facility where they are held captive. The pattern loops: Haley doesn’t get to make any decisions; Haley doesn’t get to drive the getaway rig; Haley sits and waits while Nic takes action. It’s no shock that the real relationship of “The Signal” occurs in the bromance shared between Nic and Jonah. We’ve seen this before.

Last April, HPR film editor and Concordia film professor Greg Carlson traveled to Toronto to watch his latest movie in front of a sold out crowd at largest documentary film festival in North America, Hot Docs.

Carlson’s “The Hammer and the Axe” was selected as a top 12 finalist in the International Documentary Challenge, a timed nonfiction filmmaking competition.

Having entered the Doc Challenge once in 2010 without advancing, Carlson said this year’s good news was a “total super awesome shocking surprise.” Around 200 to 300 films from cities all over the world, including Hong Kong, New York, Toronto and Seattle, were submitted this year.

Perhaps the film’s cold-blooded Midwestern unaffectedness attracted the judges this year. The five-minute documentary explores a genuine father-son-like relationship between blacksmith Doug Swenson and his apprentice Tim Jorgensen on a forge in the dead of winter – March, actually … just watch.

Originally envisioned to be a sort of inside look at blacksmithing production, the film’s focus shifted to be an inside a look at Doug and Tim’s unique relationship.

“So much of our movie inches on the fact that both Tim and Doug are really interesting people and their relationship is really cool,” said Tucker Lucas, the film’s editor and co-producer.

Jorgensen has his master’s degree in folk studies and culture. His interests heavily lie in Viking culture. He was awarded a grant through the North Dakota Council on the Arts to pursue his interest in blacksmithing and ended up working with Swenson. It’s been about a year since Jorgenson has been Swenson’s apprentice.

“I’d show up at Doug’s shop ready to do some blacksmithing and I just ask him stuff like, ‘So how do I change this windshield wiper now?’” Jorgensen said to HPR, laughing. “And he would know. He’s got lots of advice other than what to do with a hot piece of iron.”

Jorgensen opening up about his meaningful relationship with Swenson was key, Carlson said. “As soon as I heard that, I looked over at Kensie (Wallner, the still photographer) and Tucker who were there and I just knew that was going to be it – the thing that you hope for.”

With randomized, time-sensitive competitions such as these, Carlson said gambling and risk taking is unavoidable, especially considering the crew couldn’t plan ahead much.

“The first night we went out to the forage, I had not met Doug, I had not seen the place and we had already agreed this is what it was going to be,” Carlson said.

Remarkably, Carlson and his crew literally walked into a picture-perfect, pioneer-authentic blacksmith forage aggrandized with gorgeous dark-wooden tones. It showed up beautifully on camera.

“All credit to the great photographers that we had working on the project,” Carlson said. “They worked hard together to get all the settings and such that we could just pull out all those details, especially the glow.”

With the right tools, cast and crew, Carlson and Lucas masterfully melded the dialogue, imagery, audio and character interaction to create a stimulating, eloquent documentary in just five days.

“Greg is one of the most intellectual people I know,” said Lucas, who’s known Greg since 1998 and worked with him on about five other projects. “And if he’s interested in something, you really want to listen to him talk about it. He is really good at communicating passion for things that he’s interested in.”

Carlson has been making all types of movies since the ‘80s. He says documentary movie making is distinctive because, “Everybody has a potential story, and as a documentary movie maker you have the privilege of shaping it, of telling it in a particular way.”

Carlson and Lucas are particularly interested in pacing as a way to energize the story and visuals.

“Both Greg and I really love movies where the viewer gets chance to drink in the image and take their time with it,” Lucas said.

So in “The Hammer and the Axe,” the viewer is not overwhelmed with dialogue. All the words are intentional. Every edit is important is shaping the story.

“That’s hard to do in five to six minutes because you kind of feel like you have to cut out so much to begin with,” Carlson said. “But we still we worked really hard. Tucker did an incredible job of identifying some of those places where you have those little moments to take a pause – take stock of the moment.”
“The Hammer and the Axe” is now available to view and vote for online. It’s currently in fourth place for the competition’s Audience Awards. Folk can vote more than once on a daily basis until July 14: http://theaudienceawards.com/film/the-hammer-and-the-axe8305

Watch the movie and vote:
http://theaudienceawards.com/film/the-hammer-and-the-axe8305

The uncanny resemblance of Louis Ortiz to the 44th president of the United States supplies the fuel in Ryan Murdock’s “Bronx Obama,” an engaging and entertaining documentary that follows the ups and downs of a regular guy trying to make ends meet on the basis of his physical similarities to one of the most well-known people in the world. Unflappable, affable and down to earth, Ortiz makes a terrific movie subject as he recounts the tale of his decision to take a chance on a career impersonating Barack Obama. Hitching one’s wagon to the political star of a sitting head of state is risky business, but the ongoing circus sets up the conditions for Murdock to deliver a very warm, funny and thoughtful take on the contours of an American Dream.

At the time of Ortiz’s epiphany in 2008, the former Verizon field technician had been unemployed for about a year and was financially struggling. Williamsbridge Tavern bartender and friend Pat DeBelles was the first person to suggest to Ortiz that there might be real economic opportunities playing Obama. Even though Ortiz was skeptical, he changed his mind when he shaved his mustache and goatee and took a long look in the mirror. 

In the introduction to Murdock’s “This American Life” aired on February 17, 2012, a segment called “The Audacity of Louis Ortiz” (which was the documentary’s original title as well), shows the host, Ira Glass, hinting at the motivations for adopting a different personality, saying “Usually when you play a part, the expectations are pretty clear. There are lines. There’s a script. There’s a storyline you follow. So when you’re on the kiss cam you kiss. When you’re Hamlet you stress out. You know what you’re on stage to do.” Glass also anticipates Murdock’s angle in the film version, shrewdly recognizing that Ortiz “…found himself in a part with huge expectations and no script whatsoever. He had to make it up as he went along.”

That idea and the surrounding implications of the psychological toll levied by a sometimes thankless gig are explored by Murdock in any number of ways throughout the movie. One minute, Ortiz is treated like a rock star and the next minute, people are shouting hostile insults. Ortiz makes an appearance on “Flight of the Conchords.” He performs with a rock group of fellow impersonators playing Nobel Peace Prize recipients. Most entertainingly, he finds himself in league with a talent manager named Dustin Gold, whose abrasive onscreen persona contrasts with Ortiz’s calm demeanor. Gold’s roster includes versions of Mitt Romney and Bill Clinton, and “Bronx Obama” spends a significant amount of time exploring Ortiz’s transition from mere lookalike to full-fledged performer capable of approximating the vocal cadences and nuances of President Obama.

Murdock finds the emotional core of his film in the relationship shared between single father Ortiz and his teenage daughter Reina. Geographically separated by Ortiz’s demanding and sometimes unpredictable travel schedule, the two frequently communicate through video chat. The audience glimpses Ortiz’s devotion to Reina as well as his feelings of regret and guilt for not being more present. Narratively, it doesn’t hurt that Ortiz’s parenthood calls to mind Obama’s own daughters, providing one more example of the ways that class divisions shape “Bronx Obama” into a modern echo of Mark Twain’s “The Prince and the Pauper.” 

“Bronx Obama” is currently playing in film festivals and will be released later this year.

This past spring, several movie westerns suddenly got Blu-ray releases, and in April I reviewed a pair of vintage Clint Eastwood titles. Here’s a pair of classic all-star Paramount westerns made a decade apart.

One of the most iconic scenes in American cinema is the western showdown between lawmen and outlaws. Perhaps the most famous of those is the historic 1881 shootout in Tombstone, Arizona between the Earp brothers and the Clanton gang. This has been dramatized with varying degrees of accuracy in several movies, including “Tombstone” (1993) and “Wyatt Earp” (1994), both made decades after the heyday of Hollywood westerns and both available on Blu-ray. Among the best movie versions are John Ford’s classic “My Darling Clementine” (1946), sadly not yet on Blu-ray, and John Sturges’ “Gunfight at the O.K. Corral” (1957), new to Blu-ray a few months ago.

Classic Hollywood genre formula and star showcase, “Gunfight at the O.K. Corral” is executed with such polish and assuredness that the spotless studio sets, fresh clean costumes, and familiar, predictable clichés don’t matter, nor does its lush score or hokey theme song. In fact they’re part of the film’s entertainment value and the Hollywood mythic West. Burt Lancaster is in top form as an idealistic Wyatt Earp, with Kirk Douglas effective as the cynical, tubercular Doc Holliday. Jo Van Fleet is excellent as the aging prostitute Kate, whose love-hate relationship with Doc is a major subplot, as is the complex love-hate relationship between Wyatt and Doc. A minor subplot is the romantic interest between Wyatt and attractive strong-willed woman gambler Laura (Rhonda Fleming).

The main plot, of course, is the attempt by Earp and his brothers to bring law and order to the American frontier. Run-ins with various no-good types, most of whom are tied to the Clanton family, gradually build to the climactic sequence promised by the title, which was likely responsible for the film’s Best Editing and Best Sound Oscar nominations. The film also has some great color cinematography.

Picture quality is generally outstanding, often looking like a brand-new film thanks to its large VistaVision format. Audio is very good, although the stereo remix of the original mono soundtrack often sounds very artificial. There are no extras at all on this disc beyond a menu, alternate language dubs, and subtitles.  GUNFIGHT AT THE OK CORRAL on Blu-ray – Movie: A-  /  Video: A   /  Audio: A-  /  Extras: F

The four memorable westerns Howard Hawks made with John Wayne are all now on Blu-ray. “Red River” (1948), one of the all-time classics, came out in May from Criterion. “Rio Lobo” (1970), Hawks’ final film, appeared in 2011. That and his second-to-last film, “El Dorado” (1967), which debuted on Blu-ray this March, were both variations on the Hawks-Wayne classic “Rio Bravo” (1959), on Blu-ray since 2007. “Rio Lobo” has its moments, especially its last-section parallel to the end of “Rio Bravo,” but is a disappointment overall, dragged down by its unimpressive supporting cast.

“El Dorado” is nearly on a par with “Rio Bravo,” almost a direct remake (with minor modifications), with an equally strong cast and the same sense of camaraderie. John Wayne, is gunfighter for hire in “El Dorado” instead of the sheriff he played in “Rio Bravo.” Robert Mitchum plays the town sheriff who becomes a drunk, instead of Dean Martin’s deputy who’s already a drunk. A young James Caan plays an expert knife-thrower who periodically recites Edgar Allan Poe’s poem “El Dorado.” Charlene Holt more than holds her own as “girl enough for both” of the male leads, and a frustratingly underused Michele Carey is a tough rancher’s daughter handy with a rifle. Ed Asner’s villain is a land baron out to take the water rights of a long-time homesteader and his family any way he can.

“El Dorado” is a leisurely but entertaining western in the classic tradition and a fine vehicle for its two stars. There’s never any doubt how the plot will resolve, but there are a few unexpected twists here and there, a few nice action sequences, reasonably amusing comedy relief, and enjoyable performances all around.

The Blu-ray has a generally excellent image and very good mono sound. There is also a great selection of bonus features, including two different commentary tracks, a fine 40-minute documentary on the film and its filmmakers, two featurettes, and an original trailer.  EL DORADO on Blu-ray – Movie: B+  /  Video: A   /  Audio: A   /  Extras: A-

Summer road-trip movies have long been a staple of summer theatre screens, and one of the most influential was a popular 1960s Italian comedy released to Blu-ray from the Criterion Collection this spring.

Dino Risi’s “Il Sorpasso” (1962) was released in the U.S. under the title “The Easy Life.” The original Italian title refers literally to passing cars on the highway, and also to surpassing other people in prestige, excellence, good living, or anything else. The film is essentially a light-hearted road trip with a pair of opposite-personality characters, both of whom are a bit conflicted in how they feel about the other’s priorities in life. Fast-talking ladies’ man and social parasite Bruno (Vittorio Gassman) impulsively lives life to the fullest with little concern for others or for the future, while Roberto (Jean-Louis Trintignant) is a shy law student whose plans are to set his future path in order and achieve a solid sense of security before attempting anything frivolous.

A sequence of circumstances one late summer morning leads to the two of them meeting and soon taking off together in Bruno’s car, with something always intervening to postpone Bruno taking Roberto back to his studies. The clash between the two is a source of humor, yet with a serious subtext that might be interpreted as a sense of impending doom. Though disapproving of each other’s life choices, each of the men has an underlying, even envious ,admiration for the other.

The film was conceived as an entertaining but no less thoughtful (implied by the amusing reference to Antonioni’s then-new “L’ Eclisse,” perhaps coincidentally just released to Blu-ray by Criterion this June) metaphor for Italian society during the rapid economic growth of the late 1950s-early 1960s. It conveys the anxiety that the boom would eventually crash (which of course it did), yet without becoming a judgmental and heavy-handed moral indictment. It also revels in its depictions of ordinary people in everyday life rather than focusing only on the two main characters and their conflicts. This helps it retain a still-timely (perhaps more timely) resonance in today’s western world with the same thought-provoking paradoxical sense of exhilaration and exuberance of life, mixed with cynical disillusionment and disturbing fears.

The producer tried to convince the director to change the abrupt, rather downbeat ending of “Il Sorpasso,” but the director and writers felt that would ruin the film and it would just be another aimless, quickly-forgotten road comedy. Italian critics of the time were still not impressed by it, nor those who attended the film’s preview screening, which was a disaster that led the filmmakers to wonder if they’d soon be changing careers. Then it opened theatrically, and after a small opening-night audience, word of mouth led to a full house the second night and turning people away by the third night. Critical acclaim, however, came more from France, Britain, and the U.S., than from Italy until years later, when many critics who dismissed it when new revised their opinions and declared it a classic.

“Il Sorpasso” was a direct influence on any number of road-trip films that came afterwards, from “Easy Rider” to “Sideways” (both available on attractive Blu-ray editions from Sony and Fox, respectively). Its somewhat ambivalent look at the effects of sudden economic boom on the lives of average people used to years of postwar deprivation makes for an interesting contrast with the rather bleaker view of the same theme presented in the 2013 Chinese film “A Touch of Sin” (on a nice Blu-ray recently released by Kino).

Criterion’s Blu-ray of “Il Sorpasso” has a beautifully film-like black-and-white HD image, mostly from the original camera negative. The mono sound is also quite impressive with a good frequency range. The disc has a rich selection of bonus features to help put the film in perspective, including an introduction by “Sideways” director Alexander Payne, various interviews with the filmmakers and cast and a film scholar, an hour-long documentary about director Dino Risi (who died in 2008 at 91), a trailer, and Criterion’s usual booklet of incisive essays and background information.

IL SORPASSO on Blu-ray – Movie : A-  /  Video : A   /  Audio : A   /  Extras: A-

Living in the middle of North America, it may be easy to ignore or dismiss news reports of events in distant countries. Two acclaimed films from 2013 give viewers a close and personal look at the difficulties of life a half a world away on opposite sides of the globe. Both got minimal theatrical distribution beyond film festivals, but can now be seen in vivid Blu-ray editions. Chinese director Jia Zhangke’s Cannes Palme d’Or nominee “A Touch of Sin” was never released in China, but came to Blu-ray in the U.S. this April from Kino Video. This week Kino/Adopt released Palestinian director Hany Abu-Assad’s Oscar nominee for Best Foreign Film and Cannes Jury Prize winner, “Omar” to Blu-ray.

“A Touch of Sin” is a series of four independent but loosely-connected stories inspired by actual incidents reported from divergent areas across China in recent years. Each deals with an average individual pushed to some sort of extreme action after pressures of daily life, sense of injustice, oppression, repression, and/or depression, build up to a boiling point. Not as interrelated as plot threads in films like “Crash” or “Babel,” the stories bear certain similarities to films like “Falling Down” and “Taxi Driver,” as well as to various vigilante violence movies.

Contrasting with moments of bloody violence, however, are long periods of quiet observation. These convey a sense of the paradoxes and struggles of contemporary life in a China newly embracing capitalism and modern conveniences but with no less corruption, government inaction, and exploitation of the working classes than before. To some extent it comes off as a depiction of an ancient civilization that has eagerly joined the 21st century but discovered in becoming a world economic power it must deal with all of modern civilization’s vices as well as its benefits. It shows how easy it is for people to submit to their plight and ignore things, to compromise their ideals, to take unfair advantage of others, or to explode in pent-up outrage, yet there is a faint underlying glimmer of hope by the end, that human decency can survive.

The film is an effective critique of social problems and alienation that are by no means limited to modern China. As powerful as certain scenes are, the film is also often frustratingly vague and sketchy about its central protagonists, as the four half-hour or so episodes don’t have time to explore their characters in greater detail or provide more dramatic closure. Of course that may well be part of the point.

Kino’s Blu-ray has a fine HD widescreen image and superbly nuanced sound. The only extras are a trailer plus trailers to four other Kino releases.

A TOUCH OF SIN on Blu-ray – Movie: A-  /  Video: A   /  Audio: A+  /  Extras: D+

“Omar” is an intense espionage/crime thriller inextricably interwoven with a romantic melodrama and complex character study of three childhood friends now involved in the Palestinian underground opposition to Israeli occupation of the West Bank. Although its setting of present-day Palestine gives it an urgent timeliness, the plot could easily be transferred to resistance in British-occupied Ireland, German-occupied France, French-occupied Algeria, or any police-dominated state.

The title character regularly risks his life to cross the town’s dividing wall to visit his girlfriend, the sister of one of his boyhood friends who is now committed to being a freedom-fighter, also loved by another childhood friend. One night the three young men decide to kill a random border guard. When Omar is arrested, brutally interrogated, and later set free, everyone wonders why. Which side is he really working for?

The film does not condemn nor condone either acts of violence or betrayal, presenting them rather as facts of life. The primary conflicts in “Omar” involve love, relationships, family, and trust. The political paranoia provides the means to test personalities and strain their relationships, causing each person to call into question the others’ loyalty, reliability and motivations, especially when personal issues are involved. Powerful performances by the mostly first-time actors give the story its heartbreaking humanity.

Picture and sound quality on Kino’s Blu-ray are very good, although subtitles inconveniently extend below the widescreen image area into the lower black margin. Sadly, there are no supplementary features.

OMAR on Blu-ray – Movie: A-  /  Video: A   /  Audio: A   /  Extras: F