Adulteration of water and air continues to be a serious problem in Japan, and a new sentience coin, starting out like a tadpole, enjoys that fact. Gripping blighting and smoke, the creature Hedorah becomes huge, exuding a sulfuric acid steam up wherever it goes. Making matters worse, the creature can fly from its own heart atomic energy. Dr. Yano (Akira Yamauchi) and young son Ken (Hiroyuki Kanase) attempt to find the creature’s origins or a way to stop it, but solutions are not awaited. Luckily since them, Godzilla is on the case and is fascinating his protector role seriously, though of ambit many Japanese cities could manifestly suffer collateral damage in the process.

This film marks a monumental improvement over the juvenile and stupid predecessor in the series, Godzilla’s Revenge. Nonetheless the requisite girlish boy in cut off pants is present, he’s not overly mature or precious. In deed data, the humans in the film are at best paltry and generally ineffectual frequently-wasters, exclusive present to produce some semi-nonsensical statement, until the out-of-nowhere finale. Pulchritudinous much the enlargement of the film is made up of giant rubber-suited living abortion battles, and that’s as it should be. The combats are frequent and garrulous, with nice building values. The environmental message is an important one, but director Yoshimitsu Banno really hits the viewer over the head with it; there’s just so many loving shots of sloppy water that one can sit through (especially when they start to be repeated).

Hedorah itself is an unusual origin, a tentacled heap of goo prone to hurling globs of acidic muck at Godzilla and others (humans are badly scarred or reduced to skeletons, in sequences that will probably be too much for younger or more sensitive viewers). The main ungovernable with the intrigue are the glossy red eyes that look theatrical; had they been masterly to allow the eyes even a little faction it would eat helped the credibility of the creature immeasurably. Hedorah is a tough foe, though, and Godzilla spends much of the time smoldering from the acidic aftereffects of the creature. Godzilla himself is entertaining as always, with the added fancy of using his radioactive breath to propel himself nearly à la Gamera: yes, Godzilla learns to fly in this infamous sequence. The other stylistic innovation is the insertion of curt cartoon segments between sections of the picture, often with some nifty visual effects and snappy transitions.

The first Japanese cut is provided on this disc, with the original main title song used in preference to of its AIP replacement. The ascription sequences are in English, how in the world, but having the basic language on the soundtrack benefit the model aspect ratio is certainly a better presentation than I eternally reminiscences was likely for this film.

Director:


Abdellatif Kechiche

From Time Out London

At first, Kechiche’s practise-up to the admirable ‘La Faute à Voltaire’ looks set to be a fairly routine account of life in the Maghrebi hood, with 15-year-precious Krimo mooning once again Lydia while his ex insists to any kid who’ll listen that they haven’t in fact split up. But what makes it all so intriguing is that Lydia’s practising a Marivaux play, so Krimo – against all expectations, including his own – takes up acting opposing her and gradually the whole flick picture show begins to resemble a transplanted Marivaux play, which throws a fascinating light on the kids’ a bit primitive genital manoeuvring. Strong but remote horseshit.

Download Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs Movie hd

hit, the prevalent consensus was a mild fizzle because it seemed to be a medieval

Gladiator.

Scott seems to be returning the untruth into that of Saxons versus Normans. (Richard the Lionheart and John were as French as can be. England wasn't that thrilled that the House of Anjou had showed up to take outstanding.) But it also seems to be the allegation of the barons on one’s feet up against King John and demanding their rights. Will we accept him sign the Magna Carta? Should that be a spoiler on the qui vive? Oh well.

Download Shadowheart Full Movie in Best quality

The trailer is below, thanks to Yahoo! What do you come up with? Does it interest you now? Does it emit too much away?

Impact Pt II full video hd

Friday, June 23, 2000

DON'T BE suspicious of Bruno Dumont's "Humanité" because it's an
other long, winding meditation, seemingly on length itself, that won big
at Cannes last year. The film is staggering, gorgeously ambiguous. It's also
terrestrial, languid, bizarrely erotic, remote and happy to wear its
existentialism like a set of designer rosary beads. Read: vociferously in search
of greatness – or rather in search of having greatness thrust upon it. Either
way, in spite of its invitation to inflict cynicism upon it, it's ultimately
extraordinary.

With his opening long shot of a body stalking from one end of the frame to
the other, Dumont tells you that he'll be taking his time pushing "Humanité"
toward the breaking point of art-house-ness. It turns out the man is a cop in a
small working town in the northern France, and his name is Pharaon de Winter,
played by a piercing, subdued Emmanuel Schotté. Minutes later we discover that
the stain on his psyche is a dead girl, whom we see splayed in a nearby field.
The camera lingers on it

long enough to understand why Pharaon spends the rest of the film sporting
that lost, helpless look. Did he do it? Does he think he did it? Dumont raises
the question as pure philosophy: asking what the consequence is for such
urgently spongelike sensitivity. You're never certain whether Domino (Séverine
Caneele), the strapping factory worker a few houses down, with the joker
boyfriend (Philippe Tullier) has aroused his concern or some combination of his
libido, his heart and his curiosity. The three spend a great deal of time
together doing nothing, just the same.

With his large, absorbent eyes and slow, deliberate, softly childlike
manner of speaking, Pharaon seems far less a cop that an easily traumatized
Sisyphus, trying to salve evil, evidently to no avail – although, we do see
Pharaon conquer a grueling hill on his 10-speed. We also see his interior life,
the way his innocence and his anger coalesce into a joy to be alive that
guiltily can't quite bring itself to beam: There is still too much suffering in
the world.

Dumont has his sights on the tradition of great "slow" directors like
Tarkovsy, Kiarostami and, most blatantly, Kubrick – men often in pursuit of a
handsome shot of ugliness. Also important for Dumont is the overlapping of the
senses in the formation of perception. Pharaon doesn't have a sixth sense, but
the five he possesses are so intense, they take on a bewildering
metaphysicality. Dumont himself has chosen tactility as the film's primary
sense: Pharaon comes to understand that which his flesh has touched. He is the
flip side of the redeemed racist cur in Dumont's first film, 1997's "Life of
Jesus." Casting Pharaon in a quietly Messianic glow, Dumont appears to be making
soul-stirring reparations for false advertising in "Jesus."

Movie Review

'Humanité'

CAST Emmanuel Schotté, Séverine Caneele, Philippe Tullier

WRITER-DIRECTOR Bruno Dumont

NOT RATED

THEATER Lumiere

EVALUATION * * * 1/2 <

This article appeared on page

C – 3

of the Examiner

This widget highlights some of the most engaging content on SFGate.com, displaying what users are anonymously copying and interacting with on the site.

car-card
|

your ad here

• 
  20 Glenwood Ave Ross, CA 94957
  
• ROSS
• $16,850,000
• 6 Beds, 6.2 Bath
• Decker Bullock Sothebys
• 
  More Properties
  

• 
  2010 BMW 3 Series
  
• $53,900
• BMW of San Francisco
• 
  Details
  
  |
  
  Similar Cars
  

© 2010 Hearst Communications Inc.

God-forsaken 'Humanité' winds its way into one man's mind
Articles
DON'T BE under suspicion of Bruno Dumont's "Humanité" because it's an other yearn, winding meditation, seemingly on length itself, that won big at Cannes last year. The cover is staggering, gorgeously ambiguous. It's also…

While Rudy Giuliani’s designate is not in the least pronounced, the references to the former mayor-turned-national hero’s tenure as top inhibit of NYC are cloudless in “People I Be informed,” whose bitingly critical scrutiny of the days might disclose why Miramax’s still-pending U.S. release has been continually pushed back. But this compelling 24-hour odyssey into the life of a world-weary Gotham publicist, driven by a vivid performance from Al Pacino, deserves some theatrical disclosure (although pic has already popped up on airlines). Consideration sensitivity over its portrayal of the rotten underbelly of repute, politics and the power elite, knowledgeable urban audiences both in the U.S. and abroad should tap into the textured drama’s incisive script and fascinating characters, fueling arthouse mileage.

Shot in early 2001 and just completing post when the events of Sept. 11 changed the rules overnight regarding screen depictions of New York, this brooding character study-cum-thriller couldn’t have come along at a more inopportune time. The much discussed shot in which Pacino’s drugs and booze-addled character, in a post-binge haze, sees the World Trade towers lying on their sides has been removed. But even with that strategic cut, the film’s cynicism could hardly play more abrasively against the mood of renewal and rehabilitation in wounded Gotham.

A not-so-distant relative of Sydney Falco in “Sweet Smell of Success,” Eli Wurman (Pacino) is a Georgia Jew whose youthful involvement in the civil rights movement, along with his morality, has been put aside to serve a now-depleted client list. Moth-eaten and almost washed-up, he’s angling to redeem himself by organizing a benefit for imprisoned Nigerian immigrants without green cards.

Eli is distracted, however, when Cary Launer (Ryan O’Neal), one of his few remaining movie star clients, calls for crisis management. Launer’s affair with druggy TV starlet/model Jilli Hopper (Tea Leoni) causes problems when the girl lands in jail.Launer asks Eli to bail her out and put her on a plane before the scandal can damage his chances in the upcoming Senatorial race.

But Jilli drags Eli downtown to a luxury Wall Street opium den and sex club. Before being thrown out, Jilli reveals she has a recording gadget with downloadable images of the club’s high-profile clientele including Jewish civic leader Elliot Sharansky (Richard Schiff). Back in Jilli’s hotel room, Eli is on the verge of passing out when an intruder overpowers the girl and sticks her with a fatal overdose.

Unsure of what he witnessed, Eli avoids police to focus on the benefit. Led by the Rev. Lyle Blunt (Bill Nunn), the black community is up in arms about the mayor’s persecution of underprivileged minorities and incensed over the lack of support from the city’s well-heeled Jews.

Eli corners both Blunt and Sharansky and gets them to speak at the benefit. Strong-arming Launer into attending, Eli dangles the star as a carrot to entice the two reluctant adversaries.

Sleep-deprived, ailing and becoming visibly unhinged, Eli underestimates the danger from his knowledge of Jilli’s murder and possession of the incriminating recording device. His vulnerability is further heightened by the presence in town of his widowed sister-in-law, Victoria (Kim Basinger), for whom his feelings clearly run deeper than friendship.

Adopting a colorful Southern accent and looking distinctly haggard, Pacino conveys a very cogent sense of Eli’s drained state. Also palpable is the self-loathing over the direction his life has taken, squandering his Harvard law background to be a celebrity lapdog. Ranking alongside “The Insider” as Pacino’s best, most controlled work in some time, it’s a pained, exposed performance that rivets attention even as playwright Jon Robin Baitz’s script veers at times into murky ambiguity.

The drama’s kinship with ’70s anti-establishment thrillers is underlined by a poster on Eli’s office wall for “The Parallax View.” But the information on manipulation of the Senate campaign by Sharansky and his cronies is too sketchy. Likewise the pic’s ending, which cleverly aligns Eli’s downfall with his media triumph and represents an audaciously downbeat conclusion rather than a Hollywood-style cop-out, but under-defines certain key climactic events.

Generally, however, the screenplay is taut and intelligent, sizzling with enough sharp dialogue and dark humor to coast over its flaws. In addition to the unseen mayor, clear parallels between fictional characters and their real-life counterparts add to the caustic edge. Womanizing, politically ambitious Cary Launer appears inspired by Warren Beatty, while Rev. Blunt owes much to Al Sharpton. Eli himself is believed to be modeled after legendary press agent Bobby Zarem, who has publicly denied the similarities.

Director Dan Algrant (”Naked in New York”) keeps a propulsive grip on the action, communicating a dizzying sense of Eli’s determination while working on diminishing reserves of strength and lucidity and trying to sidestep entanglement in politics.

Cast is uniformly terrific. In a small but significant role, Basinger radiates tenderness, intelligence and hope; Leoni shapes a raw but nuanced character out of the jaded party girl; and Schiff brings chilly authority to Sharansky, amusingly playing off Nunn’s performance of empowered umbrage as the black reverend. O’Neal combines professional public-profile charm with self-centered focus, and Mark Webber registers sympathetically as Eli’s put-upon assistant.

Peter Deming’s gritty lensing puts an appropriately seedy gloss on the Manhattan settings, while Terence Blanchard’s cool, jazz-tinged score quietly fuels the suspense.

For several years now, whenever I read any references to Gunsmoke, the longest running Western in television history (20 years on CBS in primetime), I get the impression that’s its perceived impact is now largely one of trivia, not content. When the comedy series Frasier was coming to an end, much was made of how star Kelsey Grammar was going to “tie” Gunsmoke star James Arness for the longest number of years an actor starred as a character on a television series (I would dispute that, considering Grammar wasn’t the “star” of Cheers, but merely a supporting player – Arness was THE star of Gunsmoke from day one). And in those articles, there were quite a few left-handed verbal jabs directed at the venerable western, obviously from journalists and critics who knew nothing of the show, and who probably never saw it. To today’s largely younger, urban-based writers who cover the entertainment field, TV “history” is what happened when Friends went off the air. Gunsmoke, particularly the earlier black and white episodes, is prehistoric to their limited sensibilities.

After all, when you mention Gunsmoke, you’re talking about just a western – a genre that elicits incomprehension in most of today’s TV critics, and outright esthetic contempt from world pop culture enthusiasts and the mainstream media (unless of course the western in question seriously deviates from the traditions of the genre, and provides an exceedingly cynical or dour view of the world — then it’s okay). It’s no secret to anyone who follows pop culture and the icons that develop and grow in our society, that the traditional western hero — if he’s mentioned at all anymore — is considered a joke, an outdated, anachronistic, even contemptible throwback to days better left forgotten. What better example can you find for this devaluation of the once-powerful mythical figure than the common pejorative that’s thrown around by people all over the world for anyone who appears to be a tad too strong in their convictions: “cowboy.” Prejudice as well plays a role in this elimination of an archetype. The notion of a strong, virtuous, largely silent, moral, authority figure in an historical drama — who also happens to be white — is more likely today to be set up as a villainous, hypocritical figure, ripe for lampooning or castigating, an easy stereotypical target for lazy scriptwriting — if such a character is portrayed at all in a mainstream film or TV show (for the cultural saturation level that “white man-as-doofus” stereotyping is rapidly approaching, check out Bringing Down the House or The Man just for starters). To those who write about such matters, and who try to influence people’s way of seeing and thinking about the world, the traditional western hero is a creature from the past: largely forgotten, a symbol of perceived injustices, no longer culturally relevant, dead.

Gunsmoke was more than just another western that managed to stay on the air for twenty years. It was almost single-handedly responsible for bringing the “adult western” to television, changing forever how that genre was represented on the airwaves. And its massive popularity with viewers ensured that the very best of the best industry writers and directors worked on the series, elevating “just another western,” into television’s finest drama of the 1950s and 1960s. Prior to Gunsmoke’s arrival, the most popular westerns on TV were kiddie-oriented shows like The Lone Ranger and Hopalong Cassidy. That’s not to disparage those shows, but the movie westerns had long before “grown up,” and TV lagged behind in this more adult presentation. That is, until Gunsmoke came along.

When Gunsmoke premiered in 1955, the network schedules were dominated by comedies, game shows, drama anthologies, and variety series. Within a few short years, over thirty westerns would be on the networks at the same time, and Gunsmoke’s success was largely responsible for that. Originally, Gunsmoke was a radio program on CBS, starring the voice of William Conrad (Cannon) at U.S. Marshall Matt Dillon. Its popularity led CBS to adapt it as a TV western – a timely idea considering that adult fans of the genre weren’t well served on television. There are many stories about how the crucial role of Matt Dillon was cast; all of them entertaining, but it’s difficult to sort out the fact from fancy. After initially toying with the idea of hiring Conrad for the role (physically, he just wasn’t the type), Raymond Burr was set to star (according to one of the series’ directors, on one of the discs’ commentary track). But then, someone thought of grabbing the biggest western star in the world to play Dillon, and John Wayne was approached (this from Wayne’s own recollections). Wayne declined, and suggested friend James Arness, a relatively unknown actor who had minor roles in various films (probably best known as The Thing). One of the commentary tracks indicates that Arness was picked when producers were screening film footage (the producers supposedly yelled, when seeing 6′ 7″ Arness, “Whose that big sonafabitch? Get him!”). Regardless of how he was cast, the physically imposing Arness was perfectly cast as the stalwart, brave marshal, and production began on the series.

Originally produced as a half hour show, Gunsmoke’s cast was rounded out by Milburn Stone as Doc Adams, the crusty town doctor who dispensed gruff common sense along with his medicine; Amanda Blake as Miss Kitty Russell, the sultry, ladylike owner of the Long Branch Saloon, who had a curious relationship with Marshal Dillon; and Dennis Weaver as Chester Goode, the well-meaning, slightly goofy deputy sheriff with a bum leg and a nervous demeanor. Certainly, the deliberately vague relationship between Matt and Miss Kitty fueled audience musings throughout the series’ run. On the radio program, it was clear that Miss Kitty was a prostitute, but for televison in the 1950s, Miss Kitty would have to straighten up her act. While anyone watching the show could pretty well guess what was going on with Miss Kitty’s “saloon gals,” it was never directly stated as such — nor were there any specifics about Matt and Miss Kitty. Viewers watching their interactions each week could tell that something was going on between them, but to the enormous credit of the show’s producers, for twenty years they never fully explained the exact nature of Miss Kitty’s and Matt’s affection. This most certainly added an air of mystery about the proceedings (as well as a welcome bit of subtlety in an otherwise emphatic, declarative TV world), enticing the viewer to keep tuning in to decipher just what was behind those smiles Matt and Miss Kitty exchanged.

Gunsmoke’s rating, while fair to begin with, grew steadily, and by the end of its first season, it was in the Nielsen Top Ten. In its second season, it would land at number seven for the year, and beginning its third season, Gunsmoke would remain the number one program in the country for five straight years. Clearly, Gunsmoke was more than just a shoot ‘em up; in fact, it was acknowledged as the finest drama on television. The neat, compact 30 minute episodes were a model of compression and succinct, spare writing (owing largely to the fact that many of the best writers on the series also wrote for the radio show). There wasn’t a lot of time to get in and out of Dodge, so the writers concentrated on the show’s main characters, and developed stories that emphasized topical subjects and character motivations, as much as six shooters and horses. Adults who tuned out when their kids got out their cap guns to ride along with Hoppy, now sat down every Saturday night at 10:00 P.M., and watched terse, tense little 30 minute dramas, set in the old West, with a cast of characters that quickly became family to the viewers.

With a shift to a one hour running time in 1961, and later, with the addition of color, Gunsmoke gradually started to move out of the Nielsen Top Ten. It didn’t help ratings when Dennis Weaver’s beloved, bizarre Chester Goode left the series in 1964. Year after year, despite a loyal fan base, the series looked like it was headed for the last round-up. At midseason in 1967, when the show was 34th in the ratings, CBS announced that Gunsmoke would hang up its six guns at the end of the year. But something happened that, for the time, was unprecedented. The loyal TV audience that considered Gunsmoke a cherished Saturday night visitor to their home, now rose up and bombarded CBS with complaints upon learning of its eminent demise. The volume of mail and phone calls was unheard of, and CBS, who only looked at the numbers on the Nielsen ratings, were shocked. But they refused to acquiesce to the audience. At the time, CBS’s research department said that Gunsmoke’s audience was too old to attract advertisers who were looking for a younger demographic. Declining ratings seemed to amplify the notion that Gunsmoke had played its string out.

But CBS executives hadn’t counted on one important dissenting voice – in fact, the only voice that really mattered over at CBS: the founder and Chairman of the Board at CBS, William S. Paley. It seems that he was rather found of Gunsmoke, and he didn’t like the negative publicity that came with its cancellation. After all, CBS was now widely seen as the network that canceled an American institution (in a recent documentary, it’s been claimed that it was Paley’s wife, Babe, who laid down the law about her favorite show, Gunsmoke). Despite some executives saying there was no room on the new schedule, with Paley’s involvement, suddenly, room was found on the schedule for Gunsmoke (much to the horror of Gilligan’s Island fans, then and now; it was the show canceled to make room for Matt Dillon). But many industry insiders at the time felt that the new time slot, Mondays at 7:30, was a deliberate attempt to kill off the show once and for all; after all, it was going to go up against two fantasy kiddie shows that represented the “future” of television: The Monkees and The Man from U.N.C.L.E.. What possible audience could Gunsmoke find that early, when the kids controlled the TV?

Well, somehow it managed. In fact, in the single most spectacular ratings resurrection in TV history, Gunsmoke not only prevailed against these popular shows, it leaped to number 4 in the Nielsen’s for the year, and stayed in the Top Thirty for the remaining eight (!) years it was on the air. Families now tuned into the venerable show, and young people found relevance in the timely, topical shows that tackled such controversial subjects as racism, prostitution, the death penalty, civil rights, rape, spousal abuse, and of course, the effects of violence on society. Gunsmoke, still in the Nielsen Top Thirty, was inexplicably canceled in 1975, ending a phenomenal twenty year run as TV’s most successful western series.

The Western has always been the most malleable of the dramatic genres, both for television and movies, where writers of any generation could inject their viewpoints on then-current societal conditions, within the story framework of the cowboy in the old west. And Gunsmoke was the first to do this on television. A stable of excellent writers, including women writers such as series’ favorite Kathleen Hite, were able to write about important themes that transcended the western genre, while still respecting the genre’s conventions. Top directors worked on the show, as well, and their efforts to push the limits of the western genre in terms of dramatic content, allowed Gunsmoke to move to the forefront of TV dramas. That’s why its fascinating to me to hear current critics belittle the show for just being a “shoot ‘em up,” when in reality, it was perhaps more responsible for television “growing up” in the 1950s and 1960s, than other more critically acclaimed (but little seen) shows. The figure of Matt Dillon, a solid, commanding lynchpin for the revolving stories and characters that populated Gunsmoke, represented the best possible image of the strong, silent man of action that rode the west of our imaginations. Arness instills in the character of Marshall Dillon the traditional traits and attitudes that Americans admired (and feared we were losing) back in the 1950s, including honesty, morality, and courage. It’s difficult if not impossible to turn on today’s TV and find a show as popular as Gunsmoke was, that not only dramatizes such traditional attitudes, but actively encourages their practice. It’s been a seismic shift in American network TV entertainment, with cynicism, depression, mordant, superficial, wise-ass humor, and titillation for its own sake, now ruling the tube. It’s no wonder that older viewers are turning away in droves from television. According to new studies, younger viewers are turning off their TVs, as well. The studies say it’s because other technologies are grabbing their attention, and that may be true. But maybe, just maybe, they’re also getting tired of seeing a hopeless, valueless image of people and society projected back to them — an image in direct opposition to the layered, complex, but ultimately uplifting Gunsmoke.

Here are the 15 episodes for Gunsmoke: The Directors Collection:

DISC ONE:

Season One

Magnus
Directed by Charles Marquis Warren. Original airdate 12/24/1955. Chester is far from brotherly when an uncivilized sibling shows up in town just in time for Christmas.

Chester’s Mail Order Bride
Directed by Robert Stevenson. Original airdate 7/14/1956. An innocent correspondence turns serious when Chester’s intentions are misunderstood.

Season Three

How to Kill a Woman
Directed by John Rich. Original airdate 11/30/1957. Matt and Chester maintain a lonely surveillance at a remote stagecoach terminal where they are investigating the murders of two passengers.

Buffalo Man
Directed by Ted Post. Original airdate 1/11/1958. When two deranged buffalo hunters terrorize a young woman, Matt and Chester area also taken captive.

Season Four

The Constable
Directed by Arthur Hiller. Original airdate 5/30/1959. Dodge City’s business leaders learn a hard lesson when they disagree with Matt’s tough policy on crime.

Season Five

Old Flame
Directed by Jesse Hibbs. Original airdate 5/28/1960. Kitty has her doubts about an old girlfriend of Matt’s, who comes to Dodge City looking for his help with some serious marital problems.

Season Six

Love Thy Neighbor
Directed by Dennis Weaver. Original airdate 1/28/1961. A feud between two families starts with a sack of stolen potatoes and ends in tragedy.

DISC TWO:

Season Eight

Us Haggens
Directed by Andrew V. MacLaglen. Original airdate 12/8/1962. Festus is torn between loyalty to his family and loyalty to the law when Matt asks him to help track down his murderous uncle.

Cotter’s Girl
Directed by harry Harris, Jr.. Original airdate 1/19/1963. The beneficiary of an inheritance turns out to be a very free-spirited young woman who proves almost too much for Matt to handle.

Season Eleven

Ten Little Indians
Directed by Mark Rydell. Original airdate 10/9/1965. Gunfighters converge on Dodge City in response to a rumor that there is a $25,000 price on Matt’s head.

Which Dr.
Directed by Peter Graves. Original airdate 3/19/1966. Doc and Festus are captured by a clan of buffalo hunters who think that Doc would make a good husband as well as a good doctor.

Download Terminator Salvation Movie hd

DISC THREE:

Season Fourteen

Mannon
Directed by Robert Butler. Original airdate 1/20/1969. A vicious gunfighter, looking to make a name for himself by killing Matt, terrorizes Dodge City while waiting for Matt’s return.

Season Sixteen

Captain Sligo
Directed by William Conrad. Original airdate 1/4/1971. When a seaman retires to Dodge City, he sets his sights on his new neighbor, who has no interest in sharing his company — not to mention his desire to have ten children.

Season Seventeen

The Legend
The widow of a notorious outlaw tries to save her youngest son from following in his father’s infamous footsteps.

Season Twenty

Brides and Grooms
Directed by Victor French. Original airdate 2/10/1975. Some last-minute cold feet complicate plans for a triple wedding.

The DVD:

The Video:
The quality of the full-screen transfers for Gunsmoke: The Directors Collection is quite good. The early black and white half hour shows are particular stand outs. Some of the middle episodes have a grain that’s hard to pin down. Is it from overprinting of the original elements? At one point, I thought the picture noise looked like color film televised as black and white — where some of these episodes filmed in color (like the early Daniel Boones), but televised in black and white? I couldn’t get an answer for that question, but still, it’s not a major problem; the shows still look very good.

The Audio:
There is a discernable warble on the mono soundtracks of many of the early episodes, mostly noticeable during the music cues (like when you used to watch 16mm films in school, and the dialogue sounded better than the music). It’s noticeable, but not obtrusive. There is no option on the DVD menu for captioning, but if you enable the captioning function on your television set, captioning will come up for all of the episodes.

The Extras:
Matching the terrific 15 episodes on this collection are a copious amount of extras which really send Gunsmoke: The Directors Collection into the stratosphere. On Disc One, you can listen to the original CBS radio broadcasts for Gunsmoke shows Magnus, How to Kill a Woman, Buffalo Man, and The Constable. It’s terrific to listen to the stentorious voice of William Conrad as Matt Dillon, while picking out the differences in the radio and television versions. As well, on Disc One, there are three director commentary tracks. Director John Rich discusses his episode, How to Kill a Woman; he tells a good story about Weaver challenging him on his authority, while giving some great insider info on the other stars. Director Arthur Hiller discusses his episode, The Constable, but spends most of the time discussing his own career, and not Gunsmoke. And director Dennis Weaver discusses his episode, Love They Neighbor; he’s particularly good at discussing his fellow castmates.

On Disc Two, there is a fun clip of Ken Curtis (Festus) appearing on Richard Boone’s influential western, Have Gun Will Travel. As well, there are four more commentary tracks. Director Andrew V. McLaglen discusses his episode, Us Haggens; this underappreciated director gets some good points in about directing network television in the 1960s. Director Harry Harris, Jr. and star Mariette Hartley discuss Cotter’s Girl This is one of the funniest commentaries I’ve heard in awhile. Harris sets the tone by declaring Arness’ rear end as too big in the opening shot, and it goes downhill from there. He even gets into a fight with Hartley – albeit good-naturedly. Good fun, and good information. Director Mark Rydell discusses his episode, Ten Little Indians. Rydell is hilarious, going into dramatics about how big Arness was (”My God! My God! Look at how big he is?”). He’s so passionate about the show, and so positive, too, that it’s probably the best defense of the show I’ve ever heard. He’s tremendously appreciative of the cast, and of the opportunities that opened up because of Gunsmoke. It’s one of the best of the commentaries here. Director Peter Graves (Arness’ real-life brother, by the way) discusses his episode, Which Dr.. Since Arness is really the star of the show, it’s great to hear background tidbits about him from his brother. His affection for Jim is obvious, and it makes for some touching moments.

On Disc Three, there’s an 1972 interview with Amanda Blake (Miss Kitty) on The Mike Douglas Show It’s about 7 minutes long, and gives Blake a chance to chat with Mike. As well, there’s an audio-only recording of a CBS studio soundtrack scoring session from 1965. Unfortunately, there’s no text for context for this segment. The total amount of extras for Gunsmoke: The Directors Collection.

Final Thoughts:
Gunsmoke was not only the most popular western to ever air on television, it was one of the very best straight dramas in television history, tackling subject matters that other shows in the 1950s and 1960s were unable or unwilling to do. Gunsmoke: The Directors Collection includes 15 classic episodes of the series, spanning the series’ 20 seasons. Featured are directors as diverse as Arthur Hiller to Mark Rydell to Andrew V. McLaglen to John Rich. Gunsmoke: The Directors Collection features a plethora of extras, including numerous director commentaries, original radio broadcasts, and interviews with the stars. It’s one of the best TV DVD collections out this year. I’m giving Gunsmoke: The Directors Collection our highest rating here at DVDTalk: the DVDTalk Collector Series recommendation.

JOY RIDE: Thriller. Starring Steve Zahn, Paul Walker and Leelee Sobieski.
Directed by John Dahl. (R. 96 minutes. At Bay Area theaters.)

Directors whose talent is in the grade-B line — thrillers, crime, film
noir — often don’t get the credit they deserve. Hitchcock wasn’t recognized
as a master until he was in his 60s. Dahl will never make a movie like “The
English Patient” — fortunately — but he knows things in his bones that other
directors couldn’t imitate if they tried.

For one thing, he knows how to place a camera and create a screen picture
that makes an audience uneasy. He knows how to use the space between
characters to make audiences wonder what awful thing might come between them.
In “Joy Ride,” actors smile in a way that’s so hapless and unguarded that we
worry about them. That’s also Dahl.

He has no shame. Rain, lightning, thunder — if the weather can help, he
brings it on. In “Joy Ride” he films a scene in a cornfield, while on the
soundtrack a string orchestra thrums what sounds like a Bernard Herrmann score
for a Hitchcock film.

But here’s the thing: When other directors do Hitchcock, a viewer thinks,
“Oh, look, he’s doing Hitchcock.” When Dahl does Hitchcock, a viewer thinks,
“Oh no — wait — run — help!”

Paul Walker (”The Fast and the Furious”) plays Lewis, a Berkeley student
driving home to New Jersey, with a planned stop in Boulder to pick up Venna
(Leelee Sobieski), an old friend. Along the way, he stops in Salt Lake City,
where his older brother, Fuller (Steve Zahn), has been arrested on a drunk-and-
disorderly charge. He bails him out, and the two take off down the road.

As a gesture of appreciation, Fuller, an amiable goofball, has a CB radio
installed in Lewis’ car — he thinks it will be fun playing mind games with
truckers. Lots of fun. Lewis, getting into the spirit, puts on a woman’s voice
and, calling himself “Candy Cane,” flirts with a deep-voiced trucker who
sounds like something out of “Deliverance.” This is not the smartest way to
start a cross-country drive.

The first 15 minutes give us the setup. The rest of the movie should be
experienced fresh, so no more details. Suffice it to say, things get bad —
very bad, very quickly. Almost unbearably bad.

The Boulder campus, where Venna goes to school, is presented as all
springtime and light. This is the world these young people know, and it has
not prepared them. They’re heading into Dahl country, middle-American squalor.
Anyone who has ever pumped gas at an all-night gas station in the middle of
nowhere — standing under the floodlight of the island, surrounded by darkness
– knows the feeling of being in Dahl country. Dahl uses that sense of
vulnerability, uses it like a hammer.

In “Joy Ride,” everything has the potential for menace. Motel rooms, with
their dim light and old television sets showing porn, are presented as dens of
forgotten evil — where bad things happened and none of it mattered.
Everything hangs in a depressive haze, and then a phone rings and everyone
jumps, including the audience.

“Joy Ride” shows how a good script (by J.J. Abrams and Clay Tarver) can
blossom in the hands of a great director. No one wins awards for movies like
this, but this is escapist entertainment raised to the level of art.

E-mail Mick LaSalle at mlasalle@sfchronicle.com.

Movie:
Meltdown, originally titled Shu dan long wei and released in 1995, was directed by Wong Jing. The film stars Jet Li (Kit), Jacky Cheung (Frankie), Charlie Yeung (Joyce), Valerie Chow (Fai-Fai), and Kelvin Wong (the Doctor). Due to be released on June 19th from Columbia Tristar, the film does not feature the original language track. Shu dan long wei is, however, being released/re-priced by Tai Seng on July 17th as High Risk and the DVD does include the original audio track.

After failing to deactivate a terrorist bomb planted by the Doctor that killed his wife, Kit Li leaves the army. Two years later, Kit is working as the bodyguard and secret stunt double of a high profile martial arts actor named Frankie Lone. Lone, along with many other rich and famous people, is invited to a showing of Russian jewels at the Grandeur Hotel. At the gala event, however, the Doctor and his men arrive, seal off the building, and completely take it over in an attempt to claim the jewels. And all that stands in their way is Kit Li…

As it should be obvious from reading the summary, Die Hard heavily influenced Meltdown. The two films share quite a few similarities, though the director did add a few new elements. However, instead of being mostly all action like Die Hard, Meltdown has quite a bit of comic relief in the character of Frankie Lone, a martial arts actor who’s afraid of real fights. At times, the Lone character seems to be a spoof on Jackie Chan and even Bruce Lee. I also felt the film was anticlimactic – Jet Li and the Doctor don’t even square off once. The film does have quite a large body count and Jet Li does have some great fights, so action fans should be pleased.

Picture:
Meltdown is presented in 1.85:1 anamorphic widescreen. The transfer is, on the whole, quite good, though I did notice some problems. At several points during the film, it seems as if the movie skips slightly, which might be from missing frames. Also, several fight scenes are “sped-up,” which is easily noticeable. Print defects, however, are absent – I didn’t notice any marks, scratches, or lines.

Sound:
Meltdown is presented in three dubbed tracks: Dolby Digital 5.1 in English and Dolby Surround 2.0 in English and French. The 5.1 surround is almost entirely front based, with the rear surrounds used mainly for ambience. Directionality is rather limited as well. None of this is too surprising, as the film was originally presented in 2.0, not 5.1. Dialogue is center channel based, and for the most part, it’s clean and understandable. However, several scenes feature rap music, which may or may not have been present in the original Hong Kong version of the film. The rap music, I feel, detracts from the movie and masks some of the fighting effects later on. Optional English and Spanish subtitles are also available.

Extras:
Extras include filmographies for Jing, Li, Cheung, Yeung, Chow, and Yau Shuk Ching, trailers for this film, Once Upon a Time in China, Red Dragon, Jackie Chan’s The Prisioner, and Jackie Chan’s Gorgeous, and a photo gallery with Jet Li trivia.

Summary:
Meltdown is a decent action/comedy film with Jet Li – the movie feels quite familiar to Die Hard, but this is mostly a good thing. I was disappointed that Columbia Tristar has only provided dubbed language tracks, but those who prefer them should be pleased. The film, either as Meltdown (dubbed) or High Risk (original language), is definitely worth a rental for fans of Hong Kong action films or Jet Li, though for most, the film won’t warrant a purchase. Rent it.