What’s the most important lesson of Thirst, a stranded-in-the-desert ensemble flick starring Lacey Chabert, among others? Make sure you’re with at least one busty chick, since her breast implants, in a real pinch, may eventually allow you to give yourself a saline drip that will mitigate hallucinatory dehydration.

Somewhat unironically dubbed “Open Water in the desert” by Horrorsquad.com’s Peter Hall on its cover box, Thirst centers on vacationing med student Noelle (Chabert) and her husband Bryan (Tygh Runyan), who accompany another
couple, photographer Tyson (Brandon Quinn) and his new model-girlfriend Atheria (Mercedes McNab), on a day trip into the hot, desolate California desert for what they think will be a nice, uncomplicated photo shoot. Whoops. When Tyson accidentally puts their car into a ravine, the group is left stranded, and ill prepared to easily extricate themselves from the situation.

Following the car crash, Atheria is concussed and bleeding internally, which soon leads to some gnarly shenanigans with a screwdriver, in an effort to release pent-up pressure and swelling in her brain. The chief problem, though, is of course the group’s dwindling supply of water. With no shelter, no food and no cell phone reception, they make a directional miscalculation, and suffer its consequences. Lost and increasingly hopeless, one by one the group begins to fall victim to the relentless elements, unable to stave off the effects of dehydration with rattlesnake blood or their own urine. (Yeah, seriously.)

Thirst doesn’t reinvent the wheel, certainly, but neither does it terribly embarrass itself. The basic plot machinations are all more or less expected, but director Jeffery Scott Lando redeems himself a bit with a few long-form scenes which invest heartily in Bryan and Noelle’s relationship, and make this genre entry more female-friendly than a lot of other films of its ilk. The script, too, doesn’t put its foot down too heavily on the intra-group bickering; there’s recrimination, but it’s fairly well modulated. That said, the folks here do seem to compound their situation by continuing to make terrible decisions, like traveling during the day and resting during the cool of the evening, hypothesizing that it’s “not safe to travel in the dark.” It’s thinking like that which makes it hard for one to root for you, kids.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Thirst comes to DVD divided into a dozen chapters, presented in 2.35:1 anamorphic widescreen, with English language Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound and 2.0 stereo audio tracks. The picture transfer is mostly solid, and free from edge enhancement or any artifacting; colors seem inconsistent, however. (This may be reflective of creative choices; it’s not entirely clear.) There are also optional English SDH and Spanish subtitles, but there are unfortunately no other supplemental extras, save a preview trailer for the movie and a quartet of other First Look titles, including the iguana-riffic Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans. Given that Chabert also pulled a producer credit on the film, it’s a bit curious she didn’t submit to/push for at the very least some EPK-style on-set interview chats. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. C+ (Movie) D+ (Disc)

Someone had the bright idea to basically make a Jason Bourne movie with “Stone Cold” Steve Austin. And when I say bright idea, I of course mean terrible idea. It’s not entirely Austin’s fault, per se. He’s taking a check, and trying to branch out a bit from the comfort zone of his more natural skill sets (i.e., cracking heads). But this desultory, slapdash, poorly directed straight-to-video flick about an amnesiac, double-crossed killing machine takes ideas and scenes we’ve seen dozens of times before, and then executes them lazily and poorly.

Austin (above) plays a hulking guy with no name and no memory (and thus nothing left to
lose, Bob Dylan might opine). When he finds himself being hunted by the Russian mob, however, this amnesiac decides to fight back. Working with FBI agent Mason Reese (Adam Beach), Dr. Grace Bishop (Erica Cerra) is also trying to track down Austin’s character; she’s treated him, and is convinced his faulty sense of self-identity, in which he randomly “reboots” every couple weeks or months, can be cured. Enduring beatings, bullets and betrayal, Austin’s stranger slowly starts to remember bits and pieces of
the horror that took away his career, his family and his life. Naturally, more fisticuffs ensue, against a backdrop of governmental let-down and duplicity.

Working from a script by Quinn Scott, director Robert Lieberman delivers messy, uninvolving action, indiscriminately mixing slow-motion and regular-speed mayhem, and cross-cutting in a manner that mars whatever intent stunt coordinator Lauro Chartrand might have had. Austin, meanwhile, is required to do stupid things (like show up at Dr. Bishop’s hotel room… after she drops off her business card at a bar he frequents?), and do some ruminative emoting, which doesn’t come all that naturally to him. If there’s at all a silver lining to this yawning mess, it’s that The Stranger is at least rated R, so it doesn’t pull punches on its bloody beat-downs. Even hardcore action fans will be hard-pressed to care about this Stranger‘s identity, however.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case stored in turn in a cardboard slipcover with lenticular imaging (that’s fancy talk for 3-D, folks), The Stranger comes to DVD presented in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen, with a Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio track and optional Spanish and English SDH subtitles. Apart from a trailer, its only supplemental feature is a six-minute behind-the-scenes featurette, in which Austin talks about the time constraints of the production and also (pretty intelligently, actually) about the difference in fighting for camera versus fighting in the ring, and how the former is “less of a dance.” To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. D (Movie) C- (Disc)

Excepting its slightly freaky cover art, The Human Spark, hosted by Alan Alda, proves a warm and engaging scientific exploration for the layperson — an inquisitive nonfiction title that takes viewers on a spectacular and
sometimes personal journey.

Actor, author and science enthusiast Alda explores our uniquely human brains in this three-part PBS series, which delves into a wealth of a scientific
disciplines — including archaeology, primatology, neuroscience,
behavioral psychology and even philosophy. After billions of years of life’s evolution on this planet, and long after
recognizable humans first walked its surface, a new human species burst upon the
scene, apparently unannounced. It was us. Until then our ancestors had
shared the planet with other humanoids. Soon, however, there was only us,
with unprecedented power and dominion over all other animals and our
environment. That mysterious something was and is the “human spark” at
the center of this title.

Visiting with dozens of scientists all over the world and participating directly in many of their experiments (including a comprehensive examination of his own brain to see where
his “most human” abilities reside), Alda serves as a genial stand-in guide for viewers. By studying the fossilized bones and tools of our ancestors and
examining our nearest living relatives, Alda helps viewers understand
what we have in common with and what sets us apart from our ancestors. Aspirant scientists and armchair anthropologists alike will spark to this title, with its smart mix of breadth and depth, of both the cerebral and social.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, The Human Spark comes to DVD presented in anamorphic widescreen, with an English language stereo audio track. To purchase the DVD, phone (800) PLAY-PBS, or simply click here. Or if Amazon is totally your thing, click here, then. B+ (Movie) C- (Disc)

I have a thing against movies whose posters feature characters nibbling their fingers, which immediately and unfortunately puts Kristen Bell‘s When in Rome in my crosshairs. It’s not empty, irrational hatred, however. A small stable of recognizable faces in supporting roles cannot save this utterly vapid romantic comedy fable pitched at some fantasy demographic of young professional women who value love seemingly only as a commodity, another box to check off on a very long and modern to-do list. That the film’s plot is malarkey through and through is perhaps expected, but that it is delivered in such thunderously obvious strokes pushes it from merely bad to nearly intolerable in certain stretches.

Beth (Bell, above) is an ambitious, cautious-in-love junior curator at the Guggenheim Museum. On a trip to Rome for her impulsive younger sister’s wedding, she meets best man Nick (Josh Duhamel). The two share a dance and a spark, but Beth gets it in her head that he has a girlfriend. Consoling herself with a bottle of champagne, she fitfully grabs a handful of coins from a local fountain, magically igniting the passion of those who threw them in. Pursued back to New York by a widowed sausage magnate (Danny DeVito), a street magician (Jon Heder), a would-be painter (Will Arnett) and a self-admiring model (Dax Shepard), Beth must sort out whether Nick’s continued advances are real, or part of the same band of zany suitors.

Falling in love abroad seem to be particularly en vogue, if a recent spate of Hollywood romantic comedies are to be believed (see My Life in Ruins and Leap Year). Saddled with clunky expository dialogue and baffling character motivations, however, When in Rome has only two settings: broad, and broader. The film’s one potentially amusing bit — in which Nick takes Beth to a pitch-black restaurant, in which the lack of sight is supposed to be part of the dining experience, heightening other senses — is botched and rushed. Even within the movie’s wearying fantastical conceit there is no interior logic. Lazily and inexplicably, when it comes time for Beth to dismiss the suitors, they magically show up as a group at her apartment — apparently knowing of one another, and having little or no competitive impulse.

Easy-on-the-eyes leads Bell and Duhamel mostly escape judgment on the strength of their smiles. Through sheer force of will several bit players, most notably Shepard, breathe life into their scenes of assertive come-on. A litany of strange cameos, along with a fervently pitched dance-along by the entire cast over the end credits, all seems desperately designed to create the impression that someone is having fun. It’s certainly not the audience, however.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, When in Rome comes to DVD on a dual-layer disc in 2.35:1 anamorphic widescreen, with an English language Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio track. Optional Spanish and French tracks are included, as well as subtitles in all three languages. The disc’s bonus features consist of a pair of music videos — “Starstrukk,” from 3OH!3, featuring Katy Perry, and “Stupid Love Letter,” from Friday Night Boys — as well as three minutes of bloopers which should serve as a professional suicide reel for the movie’s propmasters. Three-plus minutes of deleted scenes round things out. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. D (Movie) C- (Disc)

You hear a lot of rap stars talk about their musical aspirations, particularly as slotted in competition against other artists, as being part of “the game.” (Hell, one rapper even named himself after it.) Director Gabriel Noble’s festival-minted documentary P-Star Rising illuminates that concept — of music as less specifically and solely the outlet for artistic expression, and more an occupational lifeline that happens to take place in a cutthroat, often manifestly unfair environment.

Spanning four years, the movie examines the intriguing and unusual tale of single dad Jesse Diaz and his nine-year-old girl, Priscilla, an aspirant rapper. She’s not some out-of-left-field prodigy, however; in the early 1980s, Diaz was a rising hip-hop star, and so he’s impressed upon his daughter a participatory love for the musical genre. Noble’s film follows this father-daughter duo through various ups and downs both in the music industry and out — late nights in the studio, performances around the world, music label
negotiations, home schooling, and financial shakiness — as Priscilla attempts to land a record deal and become a superstar.

P-Star Rising is engaging in large part because of the gulf in self-awareness between its adult and adolescent characters (Priscilla talks with disarming, what-are-you-gonna-do? frankness about her absentee crackhead mother), and how those eventually cross, or meet up. Diaz is one those curly-haired guys who wear lots of sports hats and jerseys, and ridiculous jewelry on thick gold chains (Jeffrey Wells might call him a Hispanic party elephant), and he doesn’t really seem to have an appreciable grasp on the damage it can do to a kid to try to make them your primary breadwinner (see: Lindsay Lohan). Five years older than Priscilla, daughter Solsky is an intermediate voice of reason and support.

Diaz and his daughters go through a lot, from living in a shelter to getting their own little place and grappling with the difficulty of paying bills. While she has some talent, it’s interesting to see how Priscilla negotiates the mountain pass between wanting to both please and help provide for her father and, eventually, figure out (at least a little bit) if this is something in which she’s sincerely interested in of her own accord. Whatever one makes of her dreams, and whether or not air quotes should be applied there, young Priscilla, who has found a home on PBS’ The Electric Company while she continues working her music career, at least engagingly makes the point that it’s neither all nature or all nurture when it comes to charting one’s future.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, P-Star Rising comes to DVD presented in a 1.78:1 aspect ratio, with an English language stereo audio track. Bonus features consist of a music video (titled “Daddy’s Lil’ Girl,” don’tcha know), in addition to another 15 minutes of excised scenes, comprised almost wholly of early studio footage of young Priscilla. To purchase the DVD, phone (800) PLAY-PBS, or click here; if Amazon is totally and irretrievably your thing, meanwhile, click here. C+ (Movie) B- (Disc)

The genetic mysteries of weight gain get put under the microscope in this hour-long PBS documentary from director Richard Rifkind, which tracks a trio of PhD students as they attempt to decipher the elusive protein that controls human appetite.

Smart, focused and affecting, Naturally Obsessed: The Making of a Scientist works so well because it tells a vivid, suspenseful story in the most elemental terms. Centered around three biology graduate students working under Columbia University Medical Center’s Dr. Lawrence Shapiro, the movie charts their parallel quest for scientific success and stardom in addition to academic achievement. Competing in a worldwide race to be the first to publish their findings, the students are out to discover the molecular switch that controls appetite in the human body. Their road to success combines years of trial and error with unflinching dedication, rock-climbing, rumors of pickle juice and, yes, even the music of the Flaming Lips.

Scientist-turned-filmmaker Rifkind does a couple smart things with his movie, tapping into the rich thrill of discovery that drives scientific inquiry, and making it seem cool and palpable in a way that a lot of science-related films (and science teachers, sadly) simply do not. He also gives viewers a sense of investment and rooting interest in the students’ quest, attaching it to a broader social relevance. You might not totally want to go back to high school and pay more attention in biology class, but you’ll certainly have a deeper appreciation of those that did.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Naturally Obsessed comes to DVD presented in widescreen, with an English language stereo audio track. Unlike a lot of educationally inflected NOVA and PBS titles, this disc has a small clutch of nice supplemental features, throwing a spotlight on basic research and drug design and the educational pipeline that will provide our future generations of scientists. There’s also a discussion guide PDF for teachers, with advice on how to get their own students involved in research activities. To purchase the DVD, phone (800) PLAY-PBS or simply click here; or, if Amazon is totally your thing, click here. B+ (Movie) B (Disc)

I don’t recall learning about the My Lai massacre in school. At least not in high school, during our study of the Vietnam War. It’s not terribly surprising, though. The American education system by and large doesn’t teach our nastiness or failings, our exceptions or hypocrisies. It teaches the grace notes and snow-capped peaks, and more or less lets students find the rest on their own, allowing the conservative punditry class to then take aim at the notion of broader truths by labeling them “liberal.”

For PBS’ American Experience series, writer-director Barak Goodman returns to the Vietnam War and the small village of My Lai, where in 1968 the blood of nearly 500 civilians was spilled by the hands of American soldiers. In My Lai, the infamous massacre is revisited in heart-crushingly direct fashion, and the result is a supremely relevant and indispensable historical document that showcases how morality can come unglued in combat.

Featuring new footage, uncovered documentation and compelling and exclusive interviews from both American soldiers who were on the ground during the event and innocent Vietnamese who watched their entire families get brutally slaughtered, My Lai takes viewers into the trenches of the Vietnam War, asking tough questions that America depressingly seems to revisit on an almost generational basis. In this case, the chief questions is what drove a company of soldiers — ordinary young men from all across the country — to commit the worst atrocity in American military history? Were they “just following orders,” as some later declared? Or did they crumble under the pressure of a vicious war in which the line between enemy soldier and civilian had been intentionally blurred?

Goodman lays out the facts of the event in straightforward, unbiased fashion, letting interviewees like photographer Ronald Harberle, squad leaders John Smail and Kenneth Hodges and team leader Thomas Turner tell their stories. Some, like Hodges, seem relatively unaffected by event, while others are obviously haunted. Regardless, what isn’t under dispute is the event’s subsequent cover-up (the company responsible for the terrible raid gone wrong was ordered not to speak to any press, and then sent directly into the jungle for 54 days), and the heroic efforts of a small group of courageous soldiers who broke ranks to first try to halt the atrocities — the heroic efforts of American helicopter pilot Hugh Thompson, who intervened and saved at least a dozen Vietnamese women and children from advancing U.S. soldiers, are something to ponder —  and then bring them to light. A warning note to potentially squeamish viewers: some of the images in My Lai are graphic, but the descriptions are even more heartrendingly violent.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, My Lai comes to DVD in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen, with an English language 5.1 Dolby digital surround sound audio track. It has a static menu screen, and is divided into 10 chapter stops, but has no additional supplemental features beyond a clickable link that displays some information about the PBS web site. It’s a shame, because some sort of further talking head contextualization of the various parallels between this terrible incident and other American military cover-ups (just wait until Amir Bar-Lev’s The Tillman Story hits theaters this fall) would have been a knockout blow. As is, though, this powerful documentary definitely leaves an emotional mark. To order a copy of My Lai or other PBS titles, phone (800)PLAY-PBS, or click here. Alternately, to purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. A- (Movie) C- (Disc)

While the regular DVD market is facing dwindling sales, boutique distributors are delving into the treasure trove of heretofore marginalized titles — particularly in the foreign and genre markets, and from the 1960s and ’70s — that often never received a proper commercial release on VHS, let alone their due in theaters. Two such debuts arrive on one disc in the form of Mondo Macabro’s DVD release of The Sadist with Red Teeth and Forbidden Paris, from Belgian filmmaker Jean Louis van Belle.

Starring Daniel Moosmann and Jane Clayton, 1970’s micro-budgeted horror flick The Sadist with Red Teeth represents an across-the-pond precursor to the sort of cheap, slapdash, from-the-hip genre fare that Roger Corman would later have such success with in the United States — except with more of an infusion of grandiloquent delusion. In the movie, comic book artist Daniel Bernard (Moosmann) becomes convinced that a near-fatal car crash (in which a friend perished) has turned him into a vampire, but it’s not before the advice of his creepy doctor (Albert Simono) comes into question.

Forbidden Paris, meanwhile, is a mondo-style shockumentary concentrating on the seedy underbelly of 1960s’ Paris — a sort of black-and-blue valentine to the city of lights that serves as spiteful, nasty counterpoint to some of the love letters of the New Wave. There are a few arresting moments of anthropological/sociological interest here — a family preparing for the fallout from an H-bomb, a freaky free love community — but the film’s narration comes across as piecemeal and haphazard.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, the double-feature from Mondo Macabro comes to DVD with a pair of brand new anamorphic transfers from the respective original film negatives. There is also a very good half-hour documentary featurette on ven Belle which interestingly delves into his editorial experience and philosophy on filmmaking, though it’s shot and pieced together in a willfully cryptic style that eventually begins to grate. There are also introductions to the movies themselves by van Belle, and previews for other Mondo Macabro titles. To purchase via Amazon, click here. C- (Movies) B+ (Disc)

By turns wry, sly, irreverent and provocative, Defamation asks the question, “What is anti-Semitism today?” Intent on shaking up the ultimate “sacred cow” for modern-day Jews, Israeli-born director Yoav Shamir embarks on an engaging, thought-provoking documentary quest to ascertain whether anti-Semitism remains a clear and immediate, ever-present threat, or is instead more of a scare tactic used by right-wing Zionists to smear their critics.

Spanning several continents, and speaking with an array of individuals from across the political spectrum (including the national director of the Anti-Defamation
League, Abe Foxman, as well as its fiercest critic, professor and author Norman Finkelstein), Shamir bravely, gamely digs into the realities of anti-Semitism today, with curiosity much more of his guide than any predetermined ideological road map. His findings are both enlightening and sometimes shocking. Whether assaying the exhaustive statistical cataloguing of anti-Semitic “acts” that is then in turn used in fund-raising and, by extension, political arm-twisting, or traveling to places like Auschwitz alongside Israeli school kids,
and simply observing the psychological and social effects of how they’re being raised and taught that Jews are hated by almost all other cultures and ethnicities, Shamir eschews simple, pat answers.

While the sense of humor that informs the picture is a welcome,
leavening presence, Shamir’s biggest gift is his flexibility, and
complete lack of assumptions; with Defamation, he creates the
cinematic equivalent of one of those newfangled exercise machines that
targets only the muscles you didn’t really know you had, and certainly
don’t spend any time working out. The film racked up an impressive slate of festival awards — the Stanley Kubrick Award for Bold and Innovative Filmmaking at Michael Moore’s Traverse City Film Festival, the prestigious Grierson Award for Best Documentary at the BFI London Film Festival and the Audience Award for Best Documentary at the Warsaw Film Festival, among others — and rightly so, for its that sort of arena that is its most natural home.

Audiences expecting the more definitive moral or statistical “outcome” of a filmic lecture will come away disappointed, but those who ponder and more deeply weigh Palestinian suffering alongside an Israeli right to existence and defend itself will likely be smitten with Defamation, because it posits at least the existence of ulterior motives or unintended consequences in the levying of charges of anti-Semitism. One teacher holds forth sourly on the “industry of death and violation” that the ADL encourages, and how its too-frequent cries of victimhood devalue real discrimination and hatred. The ADL’s Foxman seems to tacitly acknowledge this when he ruminates, “How do you fight this sinister, conspiratorial view of Jews without using it?” That is to say, the power of the ADL and broader Jewish-American lobby, exists in part because they are able to pull the levers of power by playing on deeply held beliefs that Jews “control” the media, financial markets and government(s). Slippery slope, that. Without malice, however, Shamir digs into the equally intriguing notion that the ADL is a way for many Jews to exercise Jewish identity without religious practice.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Defamation comes to DVD presented in anamorphic widescreen, with an English language stereo track that for the most part more than adequately handles the title’s relatively meager aural demands, except for when a couple of interviewees dip into a secretive whisper, since they’re at a fund-raising event, and don’t want to be overheard. Default English subtitles are also included, since a bit of the movie, understandably, dips into Hebrew. The only DVD bonus features consist of a textual filmmaker statement and biography. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. B+ (Movie) C- (Disc)

His partner in beloved Mr. Show mayhem, Bob Odenkirk, has gone on to steal scenes in Breaking Bad, but David Cross hasn’t exactly disappeared into anonymity. He played identity-confused Tobias Funke on the wildly funny Arrested Development, while plenty of the adolescent set will recognize him as the smarmy record executive from the two hugely successful Alvin and the Chipmunks movies. Stand-up comedy is still in his heart and blood, however, which explains Bigger and Blackerer, his third comedy concert album and second DVD on Sub Pop Records.

Its title a riff on Chris Rock‘s Emmy-winning 1999 comedy concert special Bigger & Blacker, Cross’ DVD arrives with a crushed-velvet-Elvis-style cover that would make any kitsch collector beam with pride. Recorded over two separate, back-to-back sets on the same night at Boston’s Wilbur Theatre, and directed by Lance Bangs, the show opens with a kiddie emcee, “Lil’ Davey Cross,” doing a brief foul-mouthed bit, before Cross himself arrives to much fanfare.

It’s a bit surprising, given his veteran status, how much nervousness Cross still conveys on stage, but he incorporates some of that into his set here with a meta routine, in which he twice gets into it with audience members — one of whom is signing in ASL but misrepresenting his material, and the other of whom (the same guy, actually) is live-blogging the show and slagging Cross. These bits are amusing, but do drag on a bit. Cross is at his best when he’s just in warped observant storyteller mode, riffing on the supernatural powers of balance of heroin junkies and other things that get his goat, so to speak. He gets five or six minutes of pure gold out of a British “date rape awareness” postcard he stumbled across while visiting the United Kingdom.

A lot of Cross’ material is also politically-inflected. He cops to following the health care debate with great interest, since he’s “a fan of misspelled, grammatically incorrect hyperbole.” He also uses the Bible and Armageddon as windows into a scabrous examination of fundamentalism and the American religious right
(which, not surprisingly, he has issues with). And, amusingly, Bigger and Blackerer also provides insight into why Orthodox Jews are the true victims of global warming.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, David Cross: Bigger and Blackerer comes to DVD presented in a fold-out cardboard case with a clear plastic snap-in tray. A nice fold-out poster of the DVD and album cover (above) is tucked away in the sleeve, and bonus features include a small slice of excised material, much of it as funny if not even more so than the rest of the concert. In these deleted scenes, Cross assays Coors Light drinkers (and their need for cans that affirm their beer’s coldness), yogurt, and the inanity of certain Sky Mall products, like a “time mug.” There’s also seven minutes’ worth of material from a 2004 Seattle performance, in which Cross expresses outrage at the notion of electric scissors. Anyone familiar with Mr. Show‘s “Coupon: The Movie” sketch will smile in tangential reminiscence. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. B+ (Movie) B (Disc)

Neil deGrasse Tyson, as habitual viewers of The Daily Show and/or The Colbert Report know from his many appearances on those respective programs, is entertaining as all get-out, an engaging, chatty fellow who makes science cool. And ever since Pluto was downgraded from planet status, he’s been at the center of a swirling, out-of-this-world controversy.

Profiling this scientific contretemps in compressed but not slapdash fashion, the hour-long The Pluto Files, based on deGrasse Tyson’s book of the same name, details the efforts of its crusading astronomer, who is at the head of the team behind the recent uproar over Pluto’s status. Since its discovery in 1930, Pluto has held a warm place in the public imagination. So, when the American Museum of Natural History’s Hayden Planetarium stopped calling Pluto a planet, director deGrasse Tyson found himself at the center of a firestorm — a firestorm led by angry, Pluto-loving elementary school students.

So what is it about this cold, distant rock that captures so many hearts? Oscar-nominated writer-director Terri Randall keeps this NOVA production smooth and streamlined, and
wisely gives the personable deGrasse Tyson plenty of room to operate. Her subject doesn’t disappoint, as he details the amazing story of Pluto’s initial discovery as well as the captivating science that surrounds this former planet, including the possibility of finding more Pluto-like objects in the mysterious Kuiper belt — an area of icy rocks at the edge of the solar system. From the scientists trying to classify Pluto to die-hard “Pluto-philes,” deGrasse Tyson takes viewers along on a fascinating journey through an engaging cast of characters with just one thing in common: strong opinions about Pluto.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, The Pluto Files comes to DVD presented in widescreen, with an English stereo audio track that more than adequately handles the meager aural demands of this title. Supplemental extras include a clutch of featurettes examining the formation of the universe, a smattering of outtakes, and an audio commentary track with the always entertaining deGrasse Tyson. To order a copy of The Pluto Files, Extreme Cave Diving or other PBS
titles, phone (800) PLAY-PBS or click here; or, if Amazon is totally your thing, click here. B (Movie) B+ (Disc)

Knuckle-duster cinema is a healthy straight-to-video sub-genre, for sure, but it’s usually rooted in stories of guys making their way up in the world, and not necessarily cross-pollinated with the DNA of mama bear protectionism. Trading in feminine-fringe fisticuffs in passably similar fashion to last year’s Fight Night, though, Bare Knuckles peddles an inspired-by-a-true-story tale of a cocktail waitress and single mom who steels her nerves to do “whatever it takes to provide for her daughter,” a cinematic sales phrase that usually involves the baring of much more skin than in this PG-13 flick.

For boxers and cagers, sometimes the lines blur between professionally sanctioned bouts and vicious backyard brawls tied to illegal gambling. When waitress Samantha Rogers (Jeanette Roxborough), trapped in a job she hates but willing to stay for the daughter she loves (Teya Roxborough), ends a bar fight between two drunk women, she catches the eye of a down-and-out fight promoter, Sonny Cool (Martin Kove). Sensing a lucrative partnership, he introduces her to “the show” — a highly lucrative, extremely dangerous and of course completely illegal underground world of high-stakes, all-female, bare-knuckle fighting. Blood-letting and deception ensue, against enough of an estrogenized backdrop of parental courage and love to hold the attention of at least a portion of the typical Lifetime set.

The chief appeal of Bare Knuckles centers around showing, in
puffed-chest fashion, how far a woman will go to provide for the ones
she loves — even in arenas maybe not conducive to her most immediate strengths. So while the world of mixed martial arts is increasingly popular and mainstream, hardcore fans of such head-clubbing mayhem may find their patience tested by all the feelings on display. Still, Roxborough’s performance is steely and committed (she picked up a Best
Actress prize at at the Downbeach Film Festival), even if she’s frequently not given the best dialogue with which to work. It helps, too, that the movie features a real-life female brawler like Bridget “Baby Doll” Riley,
a Black Belt Hall of Famer and the owner of five World Kickboxing titles and one
World Boxing title; she helps give Bare Knuckles a musky scent of authenticity. This isn’t the reinvention of the wheel, it’s true, but a rental won’t bruise your wallet if you’re so inclined.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Bare Knuckles comes to DVD presented in 1.78:1 widescreen, enhanced for 16×9 televisions, with a Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio track and optional Spanish and English SDH subtitles. Its bonus features consist of a music video for the song “American Girl,” performed by Mylin, and a fairly cursory behind-the-scenes featurette. To purchase the disc via Amazon, click here. C+ (Movie) C- (Disc)