It seems silly now, but for generations of sports fans either scattered to distant time zones or locked into commitments that ran counter to the schedules of their favorite teams — in particular college basketball’s March Madness, and conference tournaments — listening to games on the sly, on a Walkman, became a special sort of clandestine art. Wires were run up shirtsleeves, innocuous languid poses perfected — it was its own sort of game, defying authority to indulge in the exploits of your favorite athletic heroes. Or maybe someone had a portable TV, in which case said item was shielded by a fortress of books, or tucked into a locker, or corner workspace.

The advent of TiVo and other digital recorders forever changed the landscape of sports viewing in America, and would seemingly provide a death blow to the sort of specialized DVD release that Los Angeles Lakers: 2010 NBA Finals Series Collector’s Edition represents. But if Americans love their sports, they also love reliving the contact highs of athletic events, and so gussied-up commercial releases of Super Bowls, Final Fours and the like continue to do well (provided the winners aren’t regional weaklings or complete one-off underdogs), even as the traditional DVD market recedes.

An eight-disc DVD set celebrating the Los Angeles Lakers’ NBA championship run earlier this summer, this definitive box set features all seven games of the 2010 NBA Finals series in their entirety, chronicling an epic rivalry renewed, and a hotly anticipated rematch two years in the making. The 2010 Finals series actually exceeded the considerable hype, as the Lakers and Boston Celtics — the two most successful hoops franchises in NBA history, accounting for a combined 33 of the sports’ 64 championships — picked up where they left off in 2008 when the Celtics defeated the Lakers to earn a first title for stars Ray Allen, Paul Pierce and Kevin Garnett. After splitting the first four games, the Lakers put themselves in a double-elimination-game hole before smoking the Celtics 89-67 in Game Six, led by Finals MVP Kobe Bryant. Taking the series to a Game Seven at home, Los Angeles found themselves down by 13 points in the third quarter, only to claw their way back and eventually prevail 83-79, repeating as champions in what would be the most watched NBA game in over a decade.

Housed in eight slimline cases in turn stored in an attractive cardboard slipcover, Los Angeles Lakers: 2010 NBA Finals Series Collector’s Edition comes presented on DVD in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen, enhanced for 16×9 televisions, with a Dolby digital 2.0 surround sound audio track. As anyone who is familiar with the high-definition presentation of sports telecasts knows, the image tends to be fairly crisp, while there is a slight bit of fuzziness to some of the graphics packages. Regardless, the sound is crisp, and certainly an upgrade over almost any homemade digital transfer to disc. In addition to reliving all the dramatic in-game action of this epic
series, this collection comes with a separate bonus DVD that includes
postgame press conferences, and celebratory mini-movies partially
comprised of locker room footage.

The only thing that would have given this set more value-added punch — something beyond a wallow in purple-and-gold glory for diehard Lakers fans — is more “color packages” (interviews with fans at the arenas) and some postmortem interviews from any of the vast array of ex-hoopster talking heads that populate ESPN and sports talk radio during the month-long NBA playoff season. Sell more aggressively the league’s history, NBA, and then even when your dynastic franchises stumble, you’ll be able to move units of that Oklahoma City Thunder Collector’s Edition. To purchase the DVD set via Amazon, click here. Or to purchase the DVD set via Half, click here. B+ (Collection) B (Disc)

Cat lovers turn away — this isn’t the documentary for you. Dan Child’s fawning, hour-long Dogs Decoded examines the unique relationship we have with “man’s best friend,” and how hundreds of years of domestication have made dogs nearly human.

While feline companionship is lauded in some segments of popular culture, we mostly tend to regard cats with bemusement, and a cool detachment. Humans have undeniably developed a unique relationship with their other furry friends, meanwhile, owing largely to the fact that dogs have been domesticated for longer than any other animal on the
planet. When people talk about feeling that their pet can understand them in a way that other animals can’t, they’re almost always talking about their dog. Now, new research is revealing what dog lovers have suspected all along: many mutts have an uncanny ability to read and respond to human emotions.

Though thin and suffering a bit from preaching-to-the-choir syndrome, Dogs Decoded digs into this incredible relationship between humans and dogs, and why, even though they are so closely related to wolves, canines by and large behave differently. In engaging fashion, Child delves into new discoveries in genetics that are helping to illuminate the
origin of dogs. (He’s less convincing with research that humans, in turn, respond to dogs with a release of oxytocin, the same hormone responsible for
bonding mothers to their babies.) For enthusiastic dog lovers, this is a slice of manna you can watch with your pet. Others may engage it with a bit less native interest.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Dogs Decoded comes to DVD presented in 1.78:1 widescreen, with an English language stereo audio track. Unfortunately, there are no supplemental bonus features. To order a copy of the DVD, call (800) PLAY-PBS or click here. To purchase DVDs with public
performance rights, meanwhile, click here. Or, if Amazon and only Amazon is totally your thing, click here. C+ (Movie) C- (Disc)

As a country, Cuba has been alternately vilified and ostracized by the United States for the past five-plus decades, even long after its important role-player status at the center of Cold War politics has expired. The result is a Caribbean island with tremendous natural beauty that remains an enigma to almost every American who isn’t of Cuban or Latin-American descent, despite the fact that the tiny country is only 90 miles off the coast of Florida. As the possibility of the U.S. lifting its trade embargo looms, the first entry in the 29th season of PBS’ amazing Nature series examines one of the richest and most unusual natural environments of the hemisphere.

Written and directed by Doug Shultz, Cuba: The Accidental Eden is jointly a beautiful travelogue, nature film and glancing snapshot of the business of science in a more regimented society. Decades of relative isolation have allowed Cuba’s diverse landscapes and intriguing indigenous creatures to flourish, the island nation’s miles of untouched tropical forests, intact wetlands and unspoiled coastlines serving as an ideal incubator for a wide variety of unique lifeforms. As the largest of the Caribbean islands, Cuba boasts an extensive collection of the smallest animals of their kind — including the world’s smallest bat, smallest owl, and the tiny bee hummingbird, the smallest bird known to humankind. It’s also home to one of the most extensive coral reefs in the Western Hemisphere.

Along with just documenting the country’s rich natural beauty, though, Cuba: The Accidental Eden explores the critical conservation work of dedicated Cuban scientists, some of whom make less than $30 a month. Among the passionate conservationists is biologist Emma Palacios Lemagne, who’s researching how polymita, Cuba’s beautiful painted snails, evolve. Herpetologist Roberto Ramos, meanwhile, has the dangerous duty of tracking the rarest of crocs, the “jumping” Cuban crocodile. Another specialist, Leonardo Valido, monitors nesting sea turtles whose hatchlings’ chances of survival are one in a thousand. All of these biologists, and many more, are fantastic ambassadors for their country. If and when the travel embargo on Cuba is lifted, they stand to reap some of the benefits of a wildly increased eco-tourism sector.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Cuba: The Accidental Eden comes to DVD presented in 16×9 widescreen, with an English language 5.1 Dolby digital surround sound audio package that more than adequately handles the relatively straightforward aural demands of this hour-long title. Optional English SDH subtitles are also included. A few downloadable screensavers or some extended interview clips would have been nice but, alas, are not included here. To purchase the DVD, phone (800) PLAY-PBS, or merely click here. Or if Amazon and only Amazon is absolutely your thing, click here. Also, it’s worth noting that the title is available on Blu-ray too, in a stunning 1080i high definition transfer that only enhances the rich, colorful biodiversity on display. To purchase the Blu-ray, click here. A- (Movie) C+ (Disc)

The life and wondrous work of Stephen Sondheim, one of Broadway’s greatest legends, gets its due in this stirring concert celebration of the master composer and lyricist’s 80th birthday, a gathering which brings together some of the musical theater’s brightest stars to perform more than two dozen sensational numbers from Sondheim’s unsurpassed songbook.

David Hyde Pierce hosts this one-of-a-kind event — many of these enduring songs are rarely heard, and several are performed
by the original Broadway cast members — with Sondheim’s longtime collaborator Paul Gemignani conducting the New York Philharmonic in accompaniment. Directed for the stage and television by Lonny Price and filmed live over two evenings in March at Avery Fisher Hall in New York City, Sondheim! The Birthday Concert is a real treat, regardless of one’s level of familiarity with the material. The cast, with a treasury of Tony Awards among them, delight in performing classic as well as less often heard gems from Sondheim’s many Broadway shows. Joanna Gleason and Chip Zien reunite from Into the Woods, Bernadette Peters and Mandy Patinkin perform chilling pieces from Sunday in the Park with George and Patti Lupone, George Hearn and Michael Cerveris team together for a special take on their Sweeney Todd showstoppers, among many others. Patinkin’s hearty renderings, two West Side Story tunes, and the “Beautiful Girls” sextet of performances alone are reason enough to give this superb offering a spin.

The full track listing is as follows: “America” and “Something’s Coming” (West Side Story), “We’re Gonna Be Alright” (Do I Hear a Waltz?), “Don’t Laugh” (Hot Spot), “Johanna” (Sweeney Todd), “You’re Gonna Love Tomorrow,” “Love Will See Us Through,” “Too Many Mornings” and “The Road You Didn’t Take” (Follies), “It Takes Two” (Into the Woods), “Growing Up” (Merrily We Roll Along), “Finishing the Hat” and “Move On” (Sunday in the Park with George), “Pretty Women” and “A Little Priest” (Sweeney Todd), “Theme from Reds,” with Pas De Deux, “So Many People” (Saturday Night), “Ladies Who Lunch” (Company), “Losing My Mind” (Follies), “The Glamorous Life” (A Little Night Music), “Could I Leave You” (Follies), “Not a Day Goes By” (Merrily We Roll Along) “I’m Still Here” (Follies), “Sunday” (Sunday in the Park with George) and an all-cast sing-along of “Happy Birthday.”

Housed in a regular Blu-ray snap-shut case, Sondheim! The Birthday Concert is presented
here in 1.78:1 widescreen in stunning 1080p HD resolution, with two audio options — English DTS-HD master audio 5.1, and uncompressed PCM stereo. There aren’t any additional bonus features, but Sondheim! The Birthday Concert will be available on DVD and Blu-ray — as well as digital download, for those interested — before its national television premiere on
PBS’ Great Performances series on November 24. Special liner notes by director Price also accompany the physical release. To purchase the Blu-ray via Amazon, click here. B (Concert) C+ (Disc)

The Daily Show‘s Jason Jones and Samantha Bee costar in this low-budget comedy, which filters the unique torture of holiday familial bickering through the rubric of a Blair Witch-style collection of captured footage.

Set on Christmas Day in 1985, the movie centers around a dysfunctional suburban clan, the Cooper family, headed up by Gordon (Jones) and Nancy (Bee, Jones’ real-life wife). After accepting a secondhand VHS camcorder from a perverted neighbor (NewsRadio‘s Dave Foley, who bares a lot for the film) in order to settle an outstanding debt, Gordon cedes control of the (then-newfangled) device to his youngest son Teddy (Dylan Everett), who in good kind proceeds to torture his curiously stunted 17-year-old brother, Marcus (Nick McKinlay).

More chaos ensues, naturally. When the kids’ gregarious uncle Nick (Mike Beaver) shows up at their door, normalcy becomes lunacy, and the rest of the family — including Nancy’s sisters Bev (Jennifer Baxter) and Joanie (Jenny Parsons), Joanie’s new African boyfriend Okeke (Onyekachi Ejim), and disgruntled parents (Jayne Eastwood and Jock McLeod) — is hardly any more sane. The most disruptive influence, though, is Gordon’s estranged brother Tim (Peter Keleghan), who used to date Nancy in high school, and hasn’t seen his brother in, oh, 17 years or so. As they say, some memories should never be recorded.

The script for Coopers’ Christmas is co-written by Jones and Beaver, which gives the project a certain streamlined efficiency. In addition to plenty of comedy of the sort one might expect from a period piece (Star Wars and Facts of Life references, say, along with terrible sweaters), there’s no small amount of amusement in the dialogue (Marcus’ sourly notes that the gift from his grandmother is addressed to “older boy”). The ceiling for this type of tossed-off entertainment may be fairly low, but all the participants here are game and on the same page regarding the type of movie they’re making, and director Warren Sonoda and his behind-the-camera collaborators actually come up with inventive staging tricks to keep the gimmickry of the conceit from getting stale. Coopers’ Christmas doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but neither does it aim to; instead, it just delivers a fairly solid supply of laughs… who knows, perhaps even enough to make you think your own family is completely sane.

Housed in a regular, white, plastic Amaray case, Coopers’ Christmas comes to DVD presented in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen, with a Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio track, and optional English SDH subtitles. A feature-length audio commentary track with director Sonoda and producer Sean Buckley gives plenty of amusing and interesting insight into the film’s brisk, 11-day shoot, with anecdotes about Jones raiding the deep storage of his nearby parents’ garage to help complement the movie’s domestic clutter, and co-editor Aden Bahadori working just offscreen during filming. There is also a 17-and-a-half-minute making-of featurette, full of cast and crew interviews and behind-the-scenes footage. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. B- (Movie) B- (Disc)

The sheer size of the United States — with all its geographical subcultures — and the attendant variety of American life helps create and sustain a rich and vibrant culture of music that encompasses many different genres, each of which in its own way seems wholly and inimitably American. One seeking proof need look no further than America’s Music Legacy, a series produced and recorded by 20th Century Home Entertainment from 1983 to 1985, and only now seeing a proper DVD release.

Each of the quartet of titles first seeing release runs two hours, and is comprised of color
and black-and-white archive footage, along with interwoven stills, in
montage format. While other sub-genres will get a date in the public arena later this year, the initial batch of releases spotlights gospel, country and western, rhythm and blues and, of course, rock ‘n’ roll. The rock DVD — with cuts from Fabian (who hosts the proceedings), the Coasters, Chubby Checker, Lou Christy and more — is the most surface-level engaging, probably because it presents a history with which almost every American after and inclusive of the boomer generation is familiar. It’s interesting, though, to see different versions of the same song (most notably “Johnny B. Goode,” which finds Bo Diddley laying down filthy licks later in the program), and chart rock’s headstrong course from “primitive” fad to mainstream bottled teenage rebellion.

The rhythm and blues entry shows how the narrative form and rich tradition of jazz, ragtime and old spiritual standards commingled to winning effect, also laying the groundwork for much of today’s hip-hop. And the gospel DVD in particular — hosted by Levar Burton, and including cuts from Andrae Crouch, Marion Williams, Mel Carter and the Walter Hawkins Family — is an eye-opener. For those who have the pleasure of living in or having visited Los Angeles and checked out the House of Blues gospel breakfast, the “good news” uplift of this title, at once Christian-specific and also somewhat secular, will have you hungering for a toe-tapping return. It’s revivalism through communal sharing and witnessing — no tent necessary.

Housed in regular plastic Amaray cases, each America’s Music Legacy title comes to DVD on a region-free disc, presented in Dolby 2.0 stereo. There are no additional “talking head” bonus interviews or anything, which would have been nice inclusions, but given the enormous wealth of material that’s only a small ding in the collectibility of these titles. To purchase the discs, either individually or collectively, click on any of the links above, or visit your online retailer of choice. B (Movies) C+ (Discs)

In the early 1970s, Nikkatsu, Japan’s oldest movie studio, launched a line of erotic films, known as “roman pornos,” aimed squarely at the Asian adult marketplace. In advance of Impulse Pictures’ 2011 DVD release of a couple dozen of said films, Nikkatsu Roman Porno Trailer Collection presents a taste of these Japanese sexploitation flicks.

The stylistic diversity of the offerings is readily evident in the 38 trailers assembled here, which collectively run just over an hour. While a lot of the settings, set-ups and characters seem selected from a limited grab-bag (nurses, teachers and schoolgirls figure prominently into the proceedings, unsurprisingly), the visual modes of expression seem to vary wildly — sometimes shot in an expressionistic, color-saturated fashion, and other times a grimy, realistic nature.

Tonally, the movies seem quite different as well. Some of the titles are brutish and unpleasant (Rape Across the Drenched Wasteland… really?), while others are humorous (Zoom Up: Beaver Book Girl and Painful Bliss! A Surprise Twist). Regardless, the English translations included here, under Japanese textual interstitial inserts and overlays, are sometimes questionable, or at least disconcerting at best (a rape is shrugged off with “The moment of darkness passed…”). If there is one thing that is clear, however, it’s that certain kinks and bondage fetish — as well as the rough enforcement of male will — are particularly Asian preoccupations, tied up in subjugation and the anxiety attached to any deviation from more readily fixed gender roles. Oh, and for those wondering, none of this material is hardcore, though it certainly skirts the edges.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Nikkatsu Roman Porno Trailer Collection comes to DVD presented in anamorphic widescreen, with a Japanese language 2.0 mono soundtrack and optional English subtitles. Individual trailer selection is enabled via a main menu collection of chapter stops, or one can play the entire hour-long presentation straight through. In addition to a four-page color insert with a superb overview essay by Behind the Pink Curtain author Jasper Sharp, a full-screen presentation of the half-hour, video-shot short film Ryoko’s Lesbian Flight is included, in which a pair of flight attendants lotion themselves up, and then explore each other’s bodies, only to eventually be interrupted by a guy. The hardcore action, or even any presentation of downstairs genitalia, is pixelated, however. C (Movie) B (Disc)

Nature documentary Ocean Odyssey follows renowned underwater cinematographer Feodor Pitcairn as he traverses the depths of the seas to bring stunning clarity to that alien environment.

Commissioned by the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Natural History, the hour-long Ocean Odyssey takes viewers on an undersea journey to remote and magical places. Pitcairn, a pioneer in underwater high-definition cinematography, explores marine ecosystems of the Galápagos Islands, Raja Ampat in Indonesia, the Maldives, the Azores, Hawaii, the Caribbean, the Bahamas, the Channel Islands, British Columbia, the Gulf of Mexico, French Polynesia and Belize. Filmed in high definition, with commentary by Pitcairn and fellow cinematographer Bob Cranston, Ocean Odyssey is a stirring film. In showcasing the wide variety of life — from hammerhead sharks and otters to sea anemone and brine shrimp — and revealing some of the most amazing underwater footage ever seen, it implicitly points out some of the many great biological mysteries that remain on Earth, as well as offering insightful working reflections by two of the most prominent specialty cinematographers of today’s age.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Ocean Odyssey comes to DVD presented in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen, with an English language Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio track that more than adequately handles the title’s rather straightforward aural demands. Optional English SDH subtitles are also included, as well as, nicely, a half-hour behind-the-scenes featurette that delves into the making of the movie but also shines a certain light on its makers, and what first inspired their occupational interests. To purchase the DVD, phone (800) PLAY-PBS, or simply click here. Or, if Amazon is totally and irretrievably your thing, click here. B+ (Movie) B (Disc)

No, Steven Seagal does not star in this, somewhat shockingly. As he’s transitioned to a career in acting, ex-wrestler Steve Austin has tried to branch out a bit, without much success. Hunt to Kill, however, is a meat-and-potatoes ass-kicker, with all the lack of subtlety and nuance that its title implies.

The plot here finds U.S. Border Patrol agent Jim Rhodes (Austin), a divorced single dad still mourning the loss of his partner (Eric Roberts) in a meth lab shootout, going about his business, trying to corral the headstrong instincts of his spitfire, know-it-all teenage daughter Kim (Marie Avgeropoulos). When a crew of trigger-happy fugitives led by the psychotic Banks (a scruffy-faced Gil Bellows, menacingly nursing suckers and toothpicks) takes Rhodes and his daughter hostage, the rugged wilderness of Montana serves as a backdrop for beat-downs and vengeance.

Scripted by Frank Hannah and directed by Keoni Waxman (The Keeper), Hunt to Kill is a steady-as-she-goes programmer, through and through. Brows are furrowed, threats exchanged, and bones snapped, but one never feels terribly invested in the proceedings, mostly because the characterizations are so thin and the dialogue so lame. Stunt coordinator Lauro Chartrand comes up with some scenarios that help generally spotlight Austin’s rugged physicality, but Waxman doesn’t exactly set imaginations on fire with
his yawning slow-motion stagings, as well as editing that occasionally works against the artful balleticism that informs wrestling’s hand-to-hand combat.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case in turn stored in a cardboard slipcover, Hunt to Kill comes to DVD presented in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen, with an English language Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio track. Bonus features include a feature-length audio commentary track with Waxman
and actor Michael Eklund, as well as a short behind-the-scenes featurette with a couple cast and crew interview snippets. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. C- (Movie) C (Disc)

The feature directorial debut of Brett Anstey, Australian import Damned by Dawn represents a stab at homage to the classic Hammer Horror films of yore. It does not succeed terribly. Or, rather, it is terrible… but just not in a successful way.

Claire (Renee Willner) takes her new boyfriend Paul (Danny Alder) home to meet her family, who live on an isolated property in the country. The family reunion begins well enough, but Claire becomes increasingly uneasy with the medicated mumblings of her ailing grandmother (Dawn Klingberg), who is convinced that an evil spirit is coming for her during the night. Later that evening, the family is awoken by piercing shrieks, and Claire’s worst fears become a waking nightmare as the Screaming Banshee (Bridget Neval) and her army of undead return to unleash blood-soaked fury on them all.

Horror is especially a director’s medium, but since the story here is so simple and straightforward, execution is additionally paramount. The problem is that Damned by Dawn‘s acting, composition and editing work decidedly against any artfully elicited tension. As well as writing and directing the film, Anstey also created more than four hundred visual effects shots for the film, though the amount of digitally added fog eventually becomes absolutely risible. While some of the effects shots are technically quite accomplished, their deployment in overly affected “intense” shock cuts (along with accompanying soundtrack squeals and peals) becomes wearying quite quickly, even before the 40-second-long tea kettle scream that announces the movie’s monstrous siege.

Damned by Dawn comes to Blu-ray presented in 1080p high definition in 1.78:1 widescreen, with a DTS-HD master 5.1 audio track. In addition to separate cast and crew audio commentary tracks and the movie’s trailer, there is an extremely comprehensive 55-minute making-of featurette, which tracks the movie through inception (Anstey cites Taste the Blood of Dracula as an early inspiration), production and post-production, and is actually more interesting than the finished product. To purchase the movie’s Blu-ray or DVD via Amazon, click here. D (Movie) B+ (Disc)

Its conceit would be a great horror movie to some (and I’m sure it will be the claustrophobic setting of some enterprising low-budget genre breakthrough, if it hasn’t already), but Trapped in an Elevator, the latest PBS Nova title to premiere on DVD, just lacks enough inherent intrigue or narrative meat on its bones to make it interesting or worthwhile to any reasonable slice of a mainstream audience.

The release’s back cover text peddles statistics as ominous-factoids-in-waiting (“Across North America, elevators move 325 million passengers every day, and most of the time people don’t give them a second thought…”), but Trapped in an Elevator is chiefly a look at the brainy, nuts-and-bolts makeover of elevator computer control panels. Writer-director Joseph Seamans attempts to paint this as potentially dangerous for our individual and collective future (entrusting our vertical movement to, gasp, technology!), and narrator John Lithgow gamely breathes concern into voiceover text. But this is all a big yawn, really. On his Comedy Central show last year, Daniel Tosh did an amusing “web redemption” segment on a guy that got trapped in an elevator for 41 hours, and that three-minute bit is more entertaining and engaging than all 56 minutes of Trapped in an Elevator.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Trapped in an Elevator comes to DVD presented in 1.33:1 full screen, with an English language stereo audio track. There are no supplemental features, or stickers of the most over-elevatored buildings in the world. To purchase the DVD, click here, or phone (800) PLAY-PBS. Or, if Amazon is totally and irreversibly your online retailer of choice, click here. C- (Movie) D (Disc)

Its R rating description is hilarious (“For language and a sexual gesture”), and its dialogue and performances don’t always connect, but low-budget, sci-fi-inflected thriller Altitude is a better-than-it-needs-to-be and at times even borderline-artful entry in the direct-to-DVD sweepstakes — a movie that makes smart use of its limited means, and works, in a sort of old-school Twilight Zone fashion, to wring maximum effect out of tried and true storytelling devices rather than merely goosing CGI special effects work.

The plot centers on a group of teens on a weekend getaway (they’re headed to a Coldplay concert) aboard a small plane, and the sudden turn for the worse that sparks much bickering, consternation and screaming. Jessica Lowndes stars as rookie pilot Sara — she of the mother whose life was tragically cut short by a small-engine airplane crash — and along for the trip are her socially awkward boyfriend Bruce (Landon Liboiron), her cousin Cal (Ryan Donowho), her friend Mel (Friday the 13th‘s Julianna Guill) and Mel’s insufferably jerky boyfriend Sal (As the World Turns‘ Jake Weary, showcasing his soap opera demonstrativeness). After take-off, unexplained mechanical malfunctions send the aircraft climbing out of control, and into the heart of a strange, dark storm. Unable to land, but running out of fuel, the group tries to troubleshoot their problem and figure out what’s going on, but eventually come to realize they’re locked in battle with a sort of supernatural (and perhaps fated) force.

Altitude‘s dialogue, in its efforts to evoke panicked realism, sometimes comes off as merely ridiculous (“This doesn’t make any sense — the systems aren’t supposed to fail like this!”), and a nod to Sartre doesn’t quite ring true coming from Sara’s mouth. Still, the basic third act plot twists are interesting and for the most part well rendered, which mitigates some of the movie’s uneven acting. It certainly helps, too, that director Kaare Andrews — who actually has a background in comic book artwork and animation, in addition to some short films — tells the story with an emphasis on, well, the story. There’s green-screen work galore, given the nature of the confined setting, but his camerawork, editing and even the film’s other fairly modest special effects feed a spiraling sense of uncertainty and doom. He also deftly interweaves some integral flashback material, related to Sara’s mother’s flight. Altitude isn’t a must-see smash, but what it accomplishes certainly bodes well for its behind-the-scenes creative team.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case in turn stored in a cardboard slipcover, Altitude comes to DVD presented in 2.40:1 anamorphic widescreen, divided into a dozen chapters, with an English language Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio mix, and optional English SDH and Spanish subtitles. It’s very heartening, too, that the DVD features such a robust slate of bonus material, anchored by 50 minutes’ worth of behind-the-scenes footage that includes interviews with all the cast and crew, and charts the movie from inception (producer Ian Birkett was a film school classmate of Andrews, and his older brother Paul worked up the script) through pre-production work, shooting up in Canada, and post-production. There’s also a separate 10-minute featurette on the film’s green-screen special effects work (one gets to fully appreciate the imaginative nature of a ceiling-mounted spinning camera), a trailer, and a scrollable “concepts gallery.” To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. B- (Movie) B+ (Disc)

My first exposure to Kylie Minogue came in the form of some sort of tabloid news reportage, when she was dating an American actor… David Schwimmer, I think it was, maybe, during the earliest days of Friends? I shrugged, maybe let a glance at one of her photos linger, and then moved on. Years later, I would discover, via her Fever hit “Can’t Get You Out of My Head,” that Minogue spoke (sang) the refracted truth; she knows how to craft and deliver a catchy vocal performance. All of which is further confirmed by Kylie: Rare and Unseen, a new DVD title that delves into her career, which now spans more than two decades.

Though it runs only an hour, and evidences all the editorial precision of a totally-like-oh-my-god-excited teenager, Kylie: Rare and Unseen presents, in its own scattered way, a compelling snapshot of the career and offscreen life of Minogue. There’s an Australian TV interview with a 21-year-old Kylie, a collection of British small screen interviews from the late 1980s on through to today, footage from her first-ever TV appearance (on London’s 6 O’Clock Show) and much, much more, including fashion shoot and awards show footage. While some of the interstitial bits from her concerts yawningly lean too heavily on overwhelmed fans professing their undying love for Minogue, and other passing declarations of childhood inspiration (Olivia Newton-John, the Muppets) come across as indistinct soundbites to a media hungry for informational nuggets to plug into a promotional machine, there’s also a good bit of nice footage in which an on-stage Minogue fields questions from fans, and gives props to her brother and sister (who always seem to be in the audience, actually). These bits — and other frank discussion excerpts, where Minogue talks about her battle with breast cancer — give nice human shading to her otherwise glamorous celebrity. This isn’t a wildly revelatory biography, really, but it is a nice glimpse behind-the-scenes for fans, and seemingly confirmatory proof that Minogue is a hip, real-world gal.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Kylie: Rare and Unseen comes to DVD presented in 1.78:1 widescreen, on a region-free disc, divided into 10 static chapters of loose thematic grouping. Its audio mix, which tends to fluctuate quite a bit, is an English language Dolby digital 2.0 stereo track. There is no slate of additional bonus material. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. C (Movie) C- (Disc)

I was hoping the phrase “Croatoa” might make an appearance carved into a tree, but no, instead, jungle-set horror-thriller The Lost Tribe is a basically just a warmed-over iteration of Predator, with Lance Henriksen, a healthy pinch of The Ruins and a bit of Neil Marshall’s The Descent thrown in for good measure.

Directed by Roel Reiné, the movie unfolds on a remote tropical island, where a cold open reveals a primeval secret that that fells a group of archeologists. Much later, a group of friends are shipwrecked on that same island — a group including young physician Anna (Emily Foxler), her boyfriend Tom (Nick Mennell), Chris (Hadley Fraser), Joe (Marc Bacher) and Alexis (Brianna Brown). (The ex-almost Mrs. Ed Burns, Maxine Bahns, also appears as Maya, for what it’s worth.) There, the guys and dolls find quite a secret waiting for them: a strong,
ravenous, and none-too-friendly tribe of humanoids. Facing off with these remnants of prehistory, this group of friends becomes
the hunted, relying on their own animal instincts to survive.

Reiné works in an efficient visual style that is compelling enough in an of-the-moment fashion. The problem is that The Lost Tribe‘s script is thin on interesting characterizations, and even thinner still on the mystery it halfheartedly attempts to attach to Henriksen’s brutal and ruthless Catholic crusader. Ergo, the (much less interesting) horrific thrill-hunt elements of the film overwhelm any sense of slow-building trepidation or mystery regarding the discovery at the movie’s core. Diehard genre fans might enjoy a twirl with this Tribe, but general audiences won’t be missing much.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, The Lost Tribe comes to DVD presented in a nice transfer and 2.35:1 aspect ratio, enhanced for 16×9 televisions, with a Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio track and optional English SDH subtitles. Bonus features come by way of the movie’s trailer, a 10-minute behind-the-scenes featurette and a very literal-minded audio commentary track with Fraser and producer Mohit Ramchandani. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. C (Movie) C+ (Disc)

Nicole Holofcener, whose filmography consists of Walking and Talking, Lovely & Amazing, and Friends with Money, is the sort of director whom reasonable film critics would like to force into indentured Hollywood studio servitude, if only the Hollywood studio system would accommodate her talents. (It’s no coincidence, sadly, that all of her movies have been financed independently.) Her work is character-centric and engaging, low-key without sacrificing its steady hum of liveliness and quiet wit. Her movies sometimes pivot on what could in lesser hands be characterized as melodramatic turns, but she counterbalances this with a smart attention to detail. In short, she has a finely honed sensibility that injects her work with recognizable humanity — something that a lot of even adult-pitched mainstream Hollywood product lacks, especially in its self-defeating quest to more readily identify with only either drama or carefree laughs.



Holofcener’s latest film centers in part around a pair married Manhattanites, Kate (Catherine Keener) and Alex (Oliver Platt), who are parents to a teenage daughter, Abby (Sarah Steele). Together, they operate a successful secondhand furniture store shrewdly stocked with trendy estate sale items. Planning for the future, Kate and Alex purchase an option on the apartment next door in order to expand their two bedroom apartment. Their only problem is the cranky old lady, Andra (Ann Morgan Guilbert), living in it by herself, and the indelicate fact that they’ve got to wait for her to die.

Andra is mostly cared for by one granddaughter, Rebecca (Rebecca Hall, above left), a sweet-natured radiology technician, and scorned by her other granddaughter, Mary (Amanda Peet, above right), a callous and self-centered spa clinician thrown for a loop by the fact that her last boyfriend for some reason dumped her. (She’s the dumper, never the dumpee, you see.) Things become more complicated when these two families’ lives intersect, resulting in a dramedy that’s billed as being about love, death and liberal guilt.

The simple, brilliantly calculated shock of Please Give‘s opening, a matter-of-fact montage of mammograms, gives way to interactions that are of a piece with writer-director Holofcener’s three other films — talky, urbane ensemble flicks that pry quiet but deeply sincere smiles and laughs from an audience, and just as often showcase hushed moments of pinprick vulnerability. Holofcener’s touch with actors is so superb, and her ear for smartly calibrated revelatory dialogue generally so acute, that one feels like they could trip along forever with these characters. Kate’s emotional frailty (she gives charitably to homeless people and wants to volunteer, but is overwhelmed with sadness on the occasions she does reach out) is deftly contrasted with Andra’s deteriorating physical condition. It’s heartening, too, that Abby is a very much a real teenager, with splotchy skin, shifting motivations and interests, and fitful swings of mood. Holofcener crafts believable characters, and then lets them rub up against one another in interesting ways.

If there’s an easy knock on Holofcener’s work overall, it’s that her chosen focus is hopelessly bourgeoisie (though Lovely & Amazing undercut this argument rather convincingly), and out of step with a large swath of what modern American audiences would find dramatically compelling or humorous. (A running deadpan joke about day-tripping out of the city to “watch the leaves turn” reinforces this view, in its very whitebread, New England specificity.) The only other false notes — small qualms, really — come when Holofcener tries to nakedly advance the plot, or color in tragic backstory. These bits feel forced, like some sizzle added to sell the steak. Otherwise, though, Please Give is a wry, absorbing and beautifully observed snapshot of free-floating malaise and burgeoning hope. In gazing both outward and inward in equal measure, it encourages more human engagement and connection, which is always a good thing.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Please Give comes to DVD presented in 2.35:1 anamorphic widescreen, preserving the aspect ratio of its theatrical exhibition. Audio options consist of Dolby digital 5.1 audio tracks in English, French and Thai (!), with optional subtitles in English, Spanish SDH, French, “regular” Spanish, Korean, Mandarin Chinese and Thai. Supplemental bonus features consist of roughly four minutes of outtakes, a 12-minute behind-the-scenes featurette that includes on-set and EPK-style chats with cast and crew, and a separate eight minutes worth of material with Holofcener that is OK, but also leaves something to be desired. A bit more of a comprehensive overview of Holofcener’s canon would be nice; she’s not a “name” filmmaker to many, sadly, but she really should be. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. B+ (Movie) B- (Disc)

Directed by Tomm Moore, with a co-directing credit assigned to Nora
Twomey, The Secret of Kells was a surprise Oscar nominee in the
Best Animated Feature category last year. While the movie will never be
mistaken for a popcorn-audience blockbuster, its deserving recognition
by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences does show a
heartening willingness to embrace and reward the different possibilities
of the medium.

The story is set in medieval times, and centers around young, orphaned Brendan (Evan McGuire), who lives in the Abbey of Kells, a remote Irish outpost. There, under the watchful eye of his uncle, Abbot Cellach (Brendan Gleeson), he dutifully helps work to fortify the abbey walls. Joyless and stern, Cellach is obsessed against preparing for the impending attack of Viking marauders, who are later represented as faceless intruders with garbled voices. But grand adventure beckons for Brendan when a celebrated master illuminator, Aidan (Mick Lally), arrives from a foreign land carrying a legendary but unfinished book, The Book of Iona, brimming with amazing artistry as well as secret wisdom and powers.

To help complete the magical manuscript, Brendan breaches the abbey’s walls for the first time, heading into the forest to pick a batch of special inkberries for Aidan. There, he meets a mysterious shape-shifting fairy, Aisling (Christen Mooney), who saves him from wolves and also discloses painful secrets about her own family and childhood. When Aidan reveals that both his failing eyesight and the additional lack of a special, lost charm prevent him from completing his text, Brendan, with the barbarians closing in, gets a chance to showcase his own latent artistic vision. While he cannot completely save his village, Brendan and Aidan escape with the book, and eventually get a chance to strike a blow for the power of enlightenment.

The Secret of Kells is not first and foremost a conventional hero’s journey, or even a rigidly structured tale. (In fact, it takes a digressive bit of third act wandering to push it over the 75-minute mark.) The story here is a fable, and best thought of as a carriage through which to ravishingly realize a tangential moral lesson. And on this front, the movie succeeds wildly, capturing in aggregate the heady pleasures of surging imagination and artistic pursuit perhaps more vividly than any animated film of the past five or six years.

Visually, the film is something truly special — idiosyncratic without being flashy, informed by all the curlicued borders and ornate (some might say ostentatious) craftsmanship of medieval lettering the same sort of which are featured in Brendan’s tome. It is a style that suits the material quite well, rooted in a juxtaposition of geometric shapes and a dazzling array of colors. Some of the background compositions are a mini-cubist delight, and the abbey’s coterie of scribes, with their hunched necks and disproportionate bodies, reflect the skewed, looming perception of adults that adolescents often have. Moore also does a fascinating thing with light, sometimes indicating the flickering play of through-the-clouds sunlight with transparency, meaning little fragmented bits of the forest “shine” through Brendan when he goes to get the inkberries. It is small details like this that make The Secret of Kells so rapturously engaging.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case in turn stored in a cardboard slipcover, The Secret of Kells comes to DVD presented in 1.85:1 anamorphic widescreen, with Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound and 2.0 stereo audio tracks and optional English subtitles. Its ample slate of bonus material clocks in at over two hours, including a nice feature-length audio commentary track with Moore, a clutch of storyboards, concept art and pre-production sketches, and behind-the-scenes material from the movie’s voice-recording sessions. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. A- (Movie) B+ (Disc)

Radley Metzger is generally acknowledged to be one of the more stylish and successful purveyors of 1970s erotica, a filmmaker who specialized in assaying the flickering embers of anything-goes sexual adventurism, more along the edges of suburbia rather than hippiedom. Though New York-born, he often shot his movies in Europe, and therefore brought to bear a certain élan and foreign arthouse sophistication upon the porno chic subgenre that a lot of his crank-’em-out contemporaries simply lacked. His 1972 film Score, heretofore unavailable on DVD and Blu-ray in its uncensored, longer form, represents an interesting if not altogether successful branching out on his part.

Believe it or not, Score is actually based on a 1971 off-Broadway play that starred a then-25-year-old Sylvester Stallone. Adapted for the screen by Jerry Douglas, the film version moves the action from Queens to a sleepy seaside villa, where a married swinging couple, Elvira (Claire Wilbur, above right) and her photographer husband Jack (Gerald Grant), bored with the lack of erotically charged conquest in their trysts arranged from magazines’ personal ads, make a bet to see who can most quickly seduce a shy young newlywed couple, Betsy (Lynn Lowry) and her ecologist hubbie Eddie (Cal Culver, above center). The rub (ahem) is that the liberated couple are bisexual, so — after using telephone repairman Mike (Carl Parker) as a warm-up appetizer to loosen the grip of Betsy’s Catholic school upbringing — Elvira sets her sights on Betsy, while Jack eyes Eddie. Booze, weed, kinky dress-up costumes and amyl nitrate get trotted out, and the inhibitions of the younger couple eventually fall away.

The opening and closing narration is more than a little ridiculous (“Once upon a future time, in a lush land of pleasure, in an enviable state of affluence, bordering on the state of decadence to the north and the state of euphoria to the south, in a city of leisure…”), and it doesn’t quite jibe with the exploitative nature of Score‘s conceit, even if Betsy and Eddie are proven to be willing players in their own corruption. Also, Jack and Eddie’s un-ironic use of “buddy” recalls South Park‘s Terrence and Phillip in its over-the-top frequency of use. Still, there’s no small amount of amusement to some of the dialogue (Jack, in early evening small talk: “How do you think we’re going to do in the Olympics?” Eddie: “Oh, I don’t know.” Jack [sotto voce]: “Thank God it’s not going to be one of those evenings…”), and Metzger seems to have an intuitive grasp of how sexually persuadable or suggestible a certain subset of twentysomethings are, when pitched a good, hard line of bullshit. Fashion changes, but that score remains constant, it seems.

Other than that, the most interesting thing about Score, of course, is that it features not the sort of lesbian canoodling that one expects from the sexploitation genre (well, it does, but not solely), but instead explicit male homosexual scenes, in contrast to its fairly demure sapphic simulations. This was something of a departure for the genre, and certainly an act of at the very least artistic provocation, though its maker denies this in the bonus material interview. Though it’s comedically inflected (and features a winkingly ironic ending), the film itself is kind of a claustrophobic, mid-tempo push, and its psychedelic-infused love scenes (Metzger and cinematographer Frano Vodopivec shoot into mirrors and use all other manner of distorted lens gimmickry) never achieve much real titillation, beyond the aforementioned academic curiosity/notoriety.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case with a striking orange cover and photograph of Lowry, Score comes to DVD in a 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen presentation from Cult Epics, divided into 12 chapters. The restored high-definition transfer is fairly solid, all things considered, with extremely little in the way of grain or edge enhancement, and only a very few intermittent splotches. Far less stellar is the English Dolby digital 2.0 mono soundtrack, which features a soundtrack that frequently overwhelms the dialogue. An audio commentary track with Metzger and film historian Michael Bowen anchors the slate of bonus features, and it’s interesting to hear the filmmaker discuss both certain production hardships (having to move part of the production’s Croatian shoot from a separate studio location to the cast and crew’s hotel) and how he filmed the movie’s most explicit scenes without ever really knowing if they would even be included in the final cut of the movie. (Two versions ended up being released.)

Other supplemental material consists of an 18-and-a-half-minute narrated production featurette with loads of fascinating on-set footage, and a separate, 19-minute-plus interview with Lowry, in which she gamely recounts everything from her casting and Metzger’s admonitions to the cast to stay out of the sun (he wanted to avoid tan lines) to her rocky relationship with Wilbur (after her costar found out she was making less money, and reacted bitterly) and Parker’s off-set “rehearsal” attempts to separate her from her panties. Rounding things out are preview trailers for Score, as well as two other Metzger productions, Camille 2000 and The Lickerish Quartet. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. C (Movie) A- (Disc)

I’m not necessarily proud of the fact, but I own two movies with Andie MacDowell featured prominently on the DVD cover, and enjoy them immensely despite her presence. I’m talking about Groundhog Day and Four Weddings and a Funeral, of course (what, you were thinking The Muse, perhaps?), and so I approached As Good As Dead wondering if I would be blown away, and fall prey to the long-dreaded MacDowell hat trick.

No worries, as it turns out. Though MacDowell’s proclivity for constipated, furrowed-brow pronouncement rears its head every once in a while, kidnap/home invasion drama As Good As Dead bobs along engagingly for a while and then kind of dissipates on final contact as the end credits roll, a weird, full-to-the-brim cocktail of major-chord drama. Scripted by Eve Pomerance and Erez Mossek, and directed by Jonathan
Mossek, the story crams domestic/marital strife, kidnapping, white supremacist grandstanding, more generalized scumbag terrorizing, good, old-fashioned vengeance and ironic revenge into one claustrophobic tale.

What begins as an average day for Ethan (Cary Elwes), a divorced photographer juggling custody of his young daughter with his ex-wife Kate (Nicole Ansari), takes a dangerous turn when mysterious attackers break into his New York apartment and hold him hostage. The home invaders, who are led by Helen (MacDowell), aren’t looking to rob him, though. On a mission of revenge, the assailants, including Jake (Matt Dallas)
and the more psychotic and unhinged Aaron (Frank Whaley), are instead looking to avenge the years-old murder of Reverend Kalahan (Brian Cox), Helen’s racist right-wing cult leader/preacher husband. Ethan swears he had nothing to do with the crime, but Helen and her crew weigh how best to extract their pound of flesh, even as interrogations shed doubt on Ethan’s culpability. Also getting sucked into the proceedings as a hostage is Ethan’s innocent neighbor Amy (Jess Weixler).

From a story-structure point-of-view, there’s probably at least one too many characters here, whether it’s Dallas’ glowering Jake and/or Weixler’s Amy, in the wrong place at the wrong time. Juggling pathos and seething anger does not come easily to MacDowell, and Elwes, too, trades in an unplaceable accent that comes and goes. Still, there’s a hearty investment in the characters (over only action) that makes their moral dilemmas seem rather palpable, and Mossek and crew grind some nice drama out of a confined space, though, again, one wishes the dialogue and did-he-or-didn’t-he? machinations had a bit more intellectual heft, or master-chess-level scheming to them. All in all, this is a fine way to pass the time for those who are fans of the lead actors, but only as a rental — not a keeper.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, As Good As Dead comes to DVD presented in what’s billed as 1.85:1 anamorphic widescreen but is actually 1.78:1 widescreen, with an English language 5.1 Dolby digital surround sound audio track, and optional English SDH and Spanish subtitles. Its motion screen menu divides the movie into 12 chapters. Bonus features consist of a half dozen preview trailers, including for The Assassin Next Door, as well as a sub-par, uninvolving behind-the-scenes featurette that consists of 19-plus minutes of mostly unshaped on-set and B-roll footage. An additional 19 minutes of cast and crew interviews includes thoughts from producers Heidi Jo Markel and Jordan Gertner, as well as plenty of cross-cut, backslapping praise by all the actors. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. C (Movie) C- (Disc)

PBS deploys its cameras to the battlefield, taking viewers on a thousand-year journey through the history of warfare in Ground War: The Evolution of the Battlefield, an intriguing new documentary co-directed by Roger Finnigan and James Millar that explores key technological advances that have shaped ground combat through the ages.

From the gladius to the AK-47, from the chariot to the tank, from trebuchets to the howitzer, and from the battle ramp to the star fort, Ground War follows the fascinating punch and counter-punch of battle tactics and new technologies. Narrated by R.J. Alison, the film is a meticulously researched four-hour production that imparts intriguing facts and anecdotes throughout, and doesn’t merely attempt to overwhelm its audience with a surfeit of brawny “cool” and firepower. With classic examples like the stirrup and lesser known innovations like the gunner’s quadrant, the series reveals how even the smallest battlefield innovations — and not just missiles that wipe out entire
buildings — can have a wide-ranging effect on the way wars are fought. Four individual episodes explore the development of the soldier and his weapons in “Warrior Weapons,” movement in the combat zone in “Battlefield Mobility,” the evolution of artillery in “Firepower,” and battlefield engineering in “Command and Control.” Regardless of what one thinks about why humans, and particularly Americans, fight so much, this is a solid nonfiction look at the nitty-gritty particulars of the industry of military, and its advances.

Ground War comes to DVD housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, presented in anamorphic widescreen, with an English language stereo audio track. There are unfortunately no supplemental bonus materials, but the depth and breadth of the feature presentation easily offsets this emptiness. To purchase the DVD, phone (800) PLAY-PBS, or simply click here. If Amazon is your online retailer of choice, meanwhile, click here. B+ (Movie) D (Disc)

A Latin American erotic import from the early 1980s, Porno bills itself as “three incredible tales of five insatiable women,” and an “uncut, unbridled” film that it “beyond your wildest dreams.” In reality, it’s a meandering softcore triptych, in which much stuffy, didactic dialogue is laboriously worked through, with a few weird, gonzo flourishes tossed in for effect.

Co-directed by David Cardoso (who also costars), John Doo and Luiz Castellini, the film weaves together three thematically linked (one supposes) but otherwise discrete tales. The first is your fairly standard lesbian seduction/rebuffing, in which a pair of co-eds thumb through some erotic literature and magazines, and work their way, after a discussion of intact hymens, to the shower. The second involves a committed couple, shower voyeurism, and a nun’s habit. The final segment, easily the strangest, is a bizarre portrait of distorted desire that could easily stand to be (no pun intended) fleshed out to stand-alone feature-length, if only it were placed in better hands. In this portion, a man and woman — each with their own problems with intimacy — submit to some gameplay, which eventually includes a grasshopper. Yes, like… a living grasshopper. The guy places it on the woman’s stomach and close to her nether regions, which drives her wild. I like to imagine that this enormously befuddled some Brazilian teenagers who surreptitiously caught the film back in 1981.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Porno comes to DVD presented in its original full frame aspect ratio of 1.33:1, with a Portuguese language Dolby digital mono audio track and newly translated optional/removable English subtitles. The transfer here is solid, free from any edge enhancement or artifacting. The film is partitioned into 13 chapters, but otherwise has no special features. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. D+ (Movie) D (Disc)

Created by Bill Lawrence, Scrubs premiered in October 2001, and quickly distinguished itself as an airy, slapstick-laden, effervescent delight, the perfect whipsmart antidote to both the self-seriousness of other hospital-set small screen shows and America’s post-9/11 anxiety and ennui in general. While it never quite had the full zeitgeist snap of sexier NBC sitcom hits like Friends and Seinfeld, the series was nonetheless a reliable and consistently funny performer, launching Zach Braff to stardom as well as affirming the comedic gifts of any number of bit players, from John C. McGinley to Neil Flynn, as, respectively, the show’s gruff mentor and demented janitor, both of whom long nursed antagonistic relationships with Braff’s daydream-happy John “J.D.” Dorian.

After failing to get re-upped by NBC following its eighth season, ABC picked up the series for an aborted run, but their hearts never really seemed in this rebooted “Scrubs 2.0.” And it’s somewhat understandable, actually, as the reformed Scrubs never could seemingly decide quite what it wanted to be. While McGinley and Donald Faison each reprise their roles, most of the series’ original players have moved on (Braff returns in a half dozen of this set’s 13 episodes, embarking upon a characteristically misguided career as a short-term teacher at the med school), making for an awkward and sometimes jarring mash-up of old and new.

The joke writing is still above-average (analog clocks are derided as “old people clocks,” and Faison lectures his young charges that being a surgeon “isn’t about the glamor, the money, or even making a great mix CD for the operating room”), thanks to Lawrence’s guiding hand, and the retention of a handful of staff writers. But something always feels off, starting with the casting. The rebooted Scrubs is built around a new group of interns. Lucy (Kerry Bishé) is the wide-eyed innocent — a narrator and stand-in for the audience, very much in the mold of J.D. Tomboyish Denise (Eliza Coupe) and Drew (Michael Mosley), a previous med school washout, are the romantically intertwined couple, and Cole (Dave Franco) is the cocky, focus-stricken jerk. Maya (Nicky Whelan) and Trang (Matthew Moy) also pop up in ill-defined roles in slightly more than half the episodes. None of the performers really pop and draw you in, either in sympathetic fashion or courtesy of bravura and/or standoffish “bit” energy, as McGinley, Ken Jenkins and Robert Maschio previously did in the show’s earlier incarnations. Though his character is purposefully meant to grate, Franco in particular — a shaggy, low-rent/goofus version of his older brother James — becomes wearying quite quickly, always demonstratively playing the most obvious emotion in a scene.

Housed in a regular, clear plastic Amaray case with a snap-in tray, in turn stored in a cardboard slipcover, Scrubs: The Complete Ninth Season comes to DVD presented on two discs, with a Dolby digital audio track. In addition to a two-minute “Live From the Golf Cart” stunt bit involving some minor characters, there’s also a peppy two-minute blooper reel in which plenty of pastry is tossed about, and Braff gets frisky with a costumed raccoon tail. Creator Lawrence then pops up in an adjunct video screen for optional commentary during the disc’s presentation of deleted scenes, complaining good-naturedly about how a half-hour sitcom is really only 20 minutes and 41 seconds. There is also a six-minute featurette about some of the old cast members passing the torch to the new cast (Braff jokes about it being the Muppet Babies version of Scrubs), with plenty of back-slapping interview tidbits interspersed throughout. It’s a fine one-time watch, but there’s nothing of real substance here — much like the series’ wrap-up, sadly, which ends with a whimper in the form of “Our Thanks,” an episode in which the med students are tasked with coming up with kind words to say to the families of those who served as cadavers. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. C (Show) C+ (Disc)

Budget horror thriller The Rig has a good setting, but little in the way of top-shelf or even moderately sustained engaging execution, alas. When a tropical storm forces an offshore drilling company to evacuate non-essential personnel from their Gulf Coast oil rig, the small but experienced crew left behind hunkers down to ride out the fury of Mother Nature. Their routine is interrupted when a crew member goes missing, and
an extensive search proves futile. Slowly, rig boss Jim (The Devil’s Rejects‘ William Forsythe) and his crew discover that a deadly
creature is stalking the crew, eliminating them one by one. Surrounded
by nothing but raging ocean with no hope of escape, the roughnecks must
survive the stormy night with an unrelenting force of death hunting them
down.

Directed by Peter Atenscio, and boasting special effects from the team behind Aliens vs. Predators: Requiem, The Rig deserves credit for not tipping over into crazy, over-the-top CGI, unlike a lot of its direct-to-video brethren. Yet neither does its general emphasis on practical scares reveal a fantastically imaginative mode of suspense storytelling. There’s a quite nice sense of space and atmosphere, but David Twohy’s Below better conveyed tension through watery isolation. Many of the supporting characters come across as two-dimensional, and time spent detailing their stalking and bickering means that the powers of dramatic engagement that Forsythe’s mustache boast are not given their full due. For those still interested, the film also stars Stacey Hinnen, Serah D’Laine, Art LaFleur, Marcus Paulk and Dan
Benson.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case in turn stored in a cardboard slipcover, The Rig is presented in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen, with a Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio track and optional English and Spanish SDH subtitles. Bonus features consist of a feature-length audio commentary track with director Atenscio and producer James D. Benson, a 10-minute behind-the-scenes featurette that gives details on the movie’s location shoot, and trailers for the film and a couple other Anchor Bay releases. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. C (Movie) C (Disc)