The Movie:
Giallo (Italian thrillers popularized in the seventies) can be a difficult genre. Inconsistency, plot holes and general loopiness are found in even the best, and are something of a hallmark of the films. There are a huge number of them that are simply too out there and incomprehensible to be called great. Some few rise above the genre, such as the entries of Mario Bava or Dario Argento, to become something unique and interesting in its own right. Enzo Castellari’s Cold Eyes of Fear is one such film.

Peter (Gianni Garko) is a playboy British solicitor, living it up and indulging with call girls and strippers, and generally living the wild bachelor life. He lives with his uncle, Judge Biddle (Fernando Rey), a high profile magistrate. One evening, Peter brings home beautiful Italian prostitute Anna (Giovanna Ralli), intent on a frolicsome evening of fun. Unfortunately, at home they find common thug Quill (Julian Mateos), who along with his compatriot Welt (Frank Wolff) hold them hostage, while Welt searches for some of the judge’s papers, which have been hidden in the house. At first we think we have a good grip on who the good guys and the bad guys are, but as the film progresses, and we learn more about everyone involved, those clear cut lines begin to fade and blur.

This may sound like your standard issue caper / home invasion movie, and in a lot of superficial ways it is, but Castellari manages to make it visually, aurally and thematically interesting. He’s is a little more over the top in his directorial style than we are used to today, and even perhaps by the standards of giallo, but he gets his point across, and sets the mood admirably. His use of smash zooms is particularly artful, if such a thing can be said. Subtlety won’t be found here (at least not in the how the film looks), but visual melodrama certainly will. Lurid colors and odd angles only add to the hallucinatory effect, along with the actual hallucinations. Ennio Morricone’s schizophrenic score is constantly jangling away, keeping us keyed up and on the edge of our seats. It’s an audio / visual feast.

However, diverging somewhat from the normal giallo path, Castellari’s characters bear some resemblance to actual people. They’re nuanced and interesting, and even when they’re obsessed, we can understand why and sympathize. No one of them is all good or all bad. These aren’t cardboard cutouts, they’re fleshed out human beings. Even in the finer examples of the genre, this is a rarity. And it makes the viewer much more invested in the story, even while appreciating the normal outrageous spectacle. The actors are all professionals, and turn in solid performances, typical of films of the time and less naturalistic than what would be expected in a modern film, but still more subtle and genuine than in most of this type.

Cold Eyes of Fear has a lot in common with other gialli, but it separates itself from the common herd quite well. The addition of the vital ingredient of realistic and effective characterizations pushes it to the top of the genre. This is definitely one to see, especially for fans of Italian thrillers. Highly recommended.

The DVD

Video:
Video is 1.85:1 anamorphic widescreen, and looks good for what it is – an early seventies, fairly low budget Italian film. Thus, there are lots of scratches, lens dirt, etc. on the transfer. However, the image is very bright and clear, and the deep, splashy colors are vibrant and well presented. This isn’t a perfect image, but it’s pretty good for the source material.

Sound:
Audio is Dolby digital 2 channel English, and sounds fairly good. Morricone’s score does its job and isn’t obscured, and all the dialogue is easily heard. No major hiss or other audio problem is discernible. No subtitles or alternate language tracks are available.

Extras:
The only extras are a decent theatrical trailer for the feature, and trailers for these other Redemption releases: Hatchet for the Honeymoon, Black Magic Rites, The Asphyx, The Comeback and Night of the Hunted.

Final Thoughts:
Cold Eyes of Fear looks lurid and melodramatic by today’s standards, but for the time it was a cut above the rest, at least in terms of giallo films. It has a tighter plot, better developed characters, more nuanced performances, more emotional impact, and deeper themes than most of its kind. Enjoy it for what it is, and it will be a pleasure.

THE MOVIE:

So Yong Kim has been one of my favorite emerging directors. Over the last six years, she has made three features. The first two, In Between Days and Treeless Mountain, shook off the artificial “mumblecore” tag to reveal an emotionally powerful, carefully expressed cinematic point of view. Her latest, For Ellen, is my least favorite of her efforts, but not because it lacks the same sincerity. It’s more because Kim has stretched herself and ventured out into, for her, uncharted terrain, and perhaps just hasn’t entirely found her way around as of yet.

Paul Dano (There Will Be Blood, Ruby Sparks), stars in For Ellen as Joby Taylor, the lead singer in a semi-successful band. As the movie begins, Joby has been driving through the night, having left immediately after a gig, to attend the final mediation of divorce and custody proceedings. Joby has never really been “in the moment” as far as his family is concerned, and so he hasn’t realized how far things have deteriorated. His wife’s lawyer won’t permit direct communication between them, even when they are in the same room, and all previous agreements are null and void. Joby’s wife will get everything, including their six-year-old daughter Ellen (first-timer Shaylena Mandigo). As the truth sinks in, Joby is devastated. In an alcoholic haze, he pulls a dirty move, blackmailing his wife into giving him at least one visit with their child.

For Ellen kind of splits neatly into two halves. There is “before Ellen” and “with Ellen.” Or, essentially, the half of the movie where Joby is every selfish cliché of a deadbeat rockstar dad, and the half of the movie where he realizes he is every selfish cliché of a deadbeat rockstar dad. As he takes Ellen out for their father/daughter afternoon, there is a quiet thaw. The girl warms up to him, and his illusions that he can easily fix all the damage his neglect has done melt away. The best scenes in Kim’s film is when it’s just Dano and Mandigo one-on-one. The pair come off as natural and raw in their conversations, with Dano applying his skills to drawing his young co-star out of her shell. I think the process was as good for him as it was for her, since his turn as Joby utterly lacks in affectation. I don’t think you could say the same for any other performance in his career. The tricks and quirks and gangly histrionics are gone, replaced by something far more authentic.

While For Ellen certainly doesn’t mine any previously unseen territory, what sets it apart is Kim’s emotional temperament. As with all of her films, For Ellen is really a string of modest moments. For as powerful as the lessons Joby learns turn out to be, they are delivered with the quietest of whispers. There are no ah-ha’s to be had, no grand epiphanies, and even when the father and daughter are having fun, there is nothing cutesy about their interactions. Kim is an expert at maintaining a single mood. In the case of For Ellen, it’s the chill of a life set adrift on an ice flow, floating off to an unknown, solitary fate. The interior iciness is matched by the wintery exterior, captured with unadorned accuracy by cinematographer Reed Morano and underscored gently by musician Johann Johannsson.

It’s hard to put my finger on why For Ellen doesn’t feel as special as So Yong Kim’s previous films. Perhaps it’s that she has moved away from giving a platform to voices that normally don’t get the chance to speak up–young Korean girls both in their home country and abroad–and attempted to portray a “type” we know maybe all too well. There seems to be less of a connection here, both for the filmmaker and for me as an audience member, like we’re simply peeking in rather than taking part. Like this were a cover song rather than an original tune. That said, it’s still a pretty good rendition of that same ol’ song, and well worth seeking out.

THE DVD

Video:
For Ellen comes to DVD as a 16:9 widescreen presentation. Resolution is sharp and colors are nicely rendered, maintaining the wet and the wintery grey of the real-life locations where the movie was shot. The digital photography looks crisp on screen, with the ambient lighting coming off as warm and unforced.

Sound:
The 5.1 Dolby Digital soundtrack makes good use of the speakers to create a subtle, realistic aural atmosphere. There are not any big moments in this movie in terms of audio effects, and not even a lot of music. Instead, there is plenty of natural sound, captured in the moment, and the audio mix accurately reflects that. From big open spaces to small cramped ones, the sound team works to create the same feeling in your living room as you’d have if you were standing in the actual spot.

English Closed Captioning is provided.

Extras:
The only extra is a very short (less than three minutes) promo featurette for the film.

FINAL THOUGHTS:
Recommended. The third feature from director So Yong Kim, For Ellen is a sobering drama about a father who is running out of time. Paul Dano plays the misguided dad who is about to lose his daughter in a custody battle, bringing a quiet pain to the screen that is moving and weighty. His careful performance is balanced out by the natural ease of his very young co-star, newcomer Shaylena Mandigo. Overall, For Ellen is sad and profound, though maybe lacking in any new expression.

Jamie S. Rich is a novelist and comic book writer. He is best known for his collaborations with Joëlle Jones, including the hardboiled crime comic book You Have Killed Me, the challenging romance 12 Reasons Why I Love Her, and the 2007 prose novel Have You Seen the Horizon Lately, for which Jones did the cover. All three were published by Oni Press. His most recent project is the comedy series Spell Checkers, again with Jones and artist Nicolas Hitori de. Follow Rich’s blog at Confessions123.com.

The Movie

As far as nature documentaries go, 2011’s The Whale delves into issues that reach well beyond the “look at the cute penguins” stuff commonly seen on television.

Directed by journalists Suzanne Chisholm and Michael Parfitt, The Whale relives the joy and controversy that resulted when a playful orphaned killer whale appeared near a village on Canada’s Western coast, and the efforts to reunite the stranded mammal with his family. While the film serves as a relatively straightforward chronicle of what happened, it also brings up some thorny questions dealing with humankind’s interactions with animals – namely, when does helping out overlap into intrusion, and when should nature simply be allowed to run its course

The events recounted in The Whale begin in summer 2001, when a young orca named Luna made its way into Nootka Sound, tucked away on the west coast of Canada’s Vancouver Island. Since killer whales are highly socialized creatures who rarely venture away from family groups, Luna’s solitary appearance was highly unusual. Although Luna wasn’t starving or sick, the lack of interaction that other whales would have normally given the whale quickly came to be filled by the area’s human population. In short order, Luna cuddled up to fishing and logging boats, then pleasure boats filled with locals who were amazed at how closely they could touch him (a brave few even stick their hands inside his mouth). While Luna’s puppy dog-like eagerness to play endeared himself to the locals, biologists and government officials feared that the animal might get too adjusted to human contact, making efforts to return him to his pod even more difficult.

As awareness of Luna’s plight grows throughout Canada, an outpouring of support emerges, often from the most unlikely places. The local Native tribe, believing that Luna’s body has been inhabited by the soul of their recently deceased chief, throw their best efforts into keeping the whale healthy and safe. Monitors are employed to keep gawkers away from Luna, an only partially successful venture. While the seasons change and it becomes apparent – after two or three years – that Luna enjoys being in Nootka Sound (or perhaps he’s forgotten that he’s an orca), a creeping sense of dread comes into play. Locals worry that he might never get back to his family or, even worse, he might get captured and sold to an aquarium. Of the utmost concern: the possibility that Luna might accidentally injure or kill someone, or inadvertently put himself in harm’s way.

The Whale does a moderately good job of fairly presenting both sides of the issue, aided by some beautiful photography of the area. It didn’t move me all that much, however, and the overwhelming impression I got was that it seemed too genteel and patchy. The film was actually reconstructed from an earlier documentary by Chisholm and Parfitt, Saving Luna, which played in Canadian theaters in 2007. While The Whale got tightened up slightly from the earlier film (shaving off seven minutes of footage), the most significant change between the two came with replacing much of Parfitt’s crunchy-granola narration with voice-overs by actor Ryan Reynolds (who co-executive produced the film with his then-wife, Scarlett Johansson). Reynolds’ confident and steady narration is a huge improvement – one can feel his involvement in the subject, since he grew up in the same region where Luna was stranded.

The Whale‘s DVD packaging includes an endorsement from esteemed film critic Ellen DeGeneres, who states that it’s “an amazing movie – you must go see it.” While I wouldn’t go that far, the film is definitely worth renting for those in the market for a provocative, not necessarily happiness-inducing documentary.

The DVD:

Video

Docurama Films’ DVD edition of The Whale presents the film in nicely mastered 16:9 widescreen. Since this digitally shot film was assembled from a variety of sources, the picture quality varies from scene to scene. The bulk of it, however – interviews and nature footage of Nootka Sound – looks very good. Be aware that much of the footage of Luna dates from a decade or more ago, the decent looking but decidedly lesser-quality results of older digital and video equipment.

Audio

The Whale comes with a single stereo soundtrack (the package erroneously lists both stereo and 5.1 Surround) which is pleasantly mixed with clear dialogue and an unobtrusive music score. Subtitle options are also provided in English, Spanish and French.

Extras

Docurama’s products usually contain a good amount of bonus material, and this disc is no exception. Discovering Luna’s Family (11:27) has Ken Balcomb, senior scientist at the Center for Whale Research, discussing Luna’s geneology in the program he and his colleagues have run for the past 35 yeras. In Respecting Whales (3:08), nature expert Kari Koski discusses how orcas like Luna’s family can be viewed in their habitat without being disturbed. Songs for Luna assembles four eclectic videos and text bios from singers and musicians performing songs directly inspired by Luna. Five minutes of Deleted Scenes are also provided. Trailers for The Whale and its predecessor, Saving Luna, round out the extras.

Final Thoughts:

In all honesty, reviewing a film like The Whale is difficult, since the filmmakers had the best intentions in mind in telling a story that, in all probability, should not have a happy outcome. The film sensitively deals with its subject – Luna, an adorable orca who got separated from his pod and became a Canadian media celebrity – in such a tentative, inconsistent way that it’s also hard to fully endorse, however (Werner Herzog’s Grizzly Man was a similar project that more successfully explored man and nature colliding). Those who favor their nature docs on the contemplative side would enjoy it, however. Rent It.

Matt Hinrichs is a designer, artist and sometime writer who lives in sunny (and usually too hot) Phoenix, Arizona. Among his loves are oranges, going barefoot and blonde 1930s movie comedienne Joyce Compton. Since 2000, he has been scribbling away at Pop Culture weblog Scrubbles.net. One can also follow him on Twitter @4colorcowboy.

THE PROGRAM

As someone who was largely an anime neophyte few years back when it came to anime in series format, “Dragon Ball Z: Kai” has served as a strong source of education in both anime and the process of adaptation. If you’re reading this review you’re most assuredly aware of what “Dragon Ball Z: Kai” is and how it differs from the nearly 300 episode behemoth that is “Dragon Ball Z.” Actual show content aside, the most apparent lesson to be learned from this unique experiment is that a “filler” heavy series can be properly salvaged and honed into something manageable, engaging, and in some instances downright brilliant. With season four, “Dragon Ball Z: Kai” offers viewers a final 20 episodes, wrapping up the story of Cell, a villain introduced in season three and more importantly a reasonable stopping point for the series.

As stated previously, if you’re checking this review out, you’ve probably already made it through the first 77 of 98 episodes that “Dragon Ball Z: Kai” has to offer and you’re well aware that more than a third of the way through, the series’ enjoyable but shallow (especially under close scrutiny) formula firmly cements itself in place. Season four does nothing to break this trend, as it has to wrap up story elements introduced in the prior season. In my previous review, I lamented that even at the trimmed down 98-episode run, “Dragon Ball Z: Kai” showed a tendency to be bloated, teasing viewers with a change in the formula, only to quickly get back to the familiar. Thankfully though, it was Cell, who is the main focal point of this final 20-episode run that made me want to see how it all played out..

The biggest piece of negative criticism I have to lob at the fourth and final season, is the overuse of false finishes when it comes to ending the main story arc. The number of times the viewers are meant to think Cell has been defeated after a brutal knockdown, drag out, are too frequent. It’s a classic cliché inherent in many films, most notably the “Rocky” films, and it’s a perfectly valid way to ratchet of up tension and throw viewers for a loop, but the overuse here become tiresome and thoughts drift away from the show at hand, to what the show could be doing to at least end on a fresher note.

On the very positive side, the final season of “Dragon Ball Z: Kai” manages to assemble a very large cast of characters and chances are your favorite is going to get a chance to shine, sometimes multiple times. The continuing elevation of Gohan made me quite pleased and the final few episodes properly sees this is paid off from a narrative standpoint. More importantly, despite a rocky path, Goku, the hero of the story has a very emotionally gratifying and justifiable denouement to his tale; at times the series seemed to struggle finding a balance in highlighting the very colorful cast of supporting players, while not writing Goku out of the story completely and there were a few points where I feared Goku winding up an uninspired wet blanket on his own story. That’s not to say the final season of “Dragon Ball Z: Kai” is a monumental triumph in storytelling; frankly, it’s a far shot removed from the mystery and wonder that makes the first and (to a slightly lesser degree) second seasons so effective. The series had an ultimate endpoint and the “Kai” experiment was most definitely a successful one, yes there was some minor filler along the way, but in 98 episodes, there’s a hell of a lot of story told and a lot of it occurs very quickly. In short, “Dragon Ball Z: Kai” fully justifies the hype surrounding the “Dragon Ball Z” universe: it’s good, technically accomplished, fun.

THE DVD

The Video

The 1.33:1 original aspect ratio transfer is definitely far cleaner and vibrant than the assorted “Dragon Ball Z” material I’ve seen in the past. There’s a very minimal amount of compression in some shots, but considering how this new version of the series was crafted together, some elements still have some slightly faded quality to them. No one will ever mistake this for being a modern piece of animated work nor something from the heyday of classic Disney, but compared to other anime series’ of the timeframe, this is a very good looking transfer.

The Audio

The English Dolby Digital 5.1 surround track has considerable more life than the very flat and thin, original language stereo track. While voice work is incredibly well orchestrated, the dub is a bit more dominant than any other element of the sound mix. Effects are strong as forceful, despite the slight overshadowing by dialogue, but the accompanying score can sometimes go unnoticed. The Japanese stereo track, as stated above is far more flat sounding, but the overall mix is much more satisfactory. English subtitles are included that only accompany the Japanese audio.

The Extras

The only extras are textless credits.

Final Thoughts

If you’ve made it this far, especially considering the mixed bag that consisted of season three, the fourth and final season of “Dragon Ball Z: Kai” is a no-brainier purchase. The series recovers nicely from the minor stagnation that was setting in and the final batch of episodes could never be called anything less than exciting, even if they devolve into mindless action at times. Recommended.

THE MOVIE:

Diana Vreeland was a legendary magazine editor, tastemaker, and fashion maven whose career and influence spanned decades, from the 1930s to her death in 1989. The documentary Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has to Travel, attempts to tell the tale of her accomplishments in a brief amount of time, running through the decades at an accelerated pace, but achieving the kind of zip the lady herself would approve of. The word you hear her say the most in the archival clips assembled here is “pizzazz,” and at times, The Eye Has to Travel definitely has it.

The spine for Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has to Travel is not the companion book that ties in with it, but Vreeland’s memoir, D.V., which she wrote with the help of George Plimpton (and itself is a great read worth seeking out). Plimpton interviewed Vreeland at length to gather the material for the book, and co-directors Lisa Immordino Vreeland (her granddaughter) and Bent Jorgen Perlmutt re-create those conversations with voice actors to create a narrative thread that runs all through the history they assemble via vintage photographs, new testimonials from friends and admirers, and archival sit-downs with the lady herself. The result is something that may not be revelatory for those familiar with the subject, but should otherwise open the door for any viewers who aren’t. It’s also a feast for the eyes, providing ample evidence of Vreeland’s sense of style.

Vreeland, an unconventional looking woman (particularly for the fashion world) with no formal education, began her career selling lingerie for Coco Chanel, segued into writing a column for Harper’s Bazaar, and then took over as fashion editor. From there, she became editor-in-chief at Vogue before rounding out her career by curating the Costume Institute exhibits at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The kind of vim and vigor Vreeland brought to the magazine world, and the breadth of people she worked with, is astonishing. This is, after all, a woman credited with discovering the bikini, the blue jean, and Lauren Bacall. She was a mentor to Richard Avedon and hired Ali MacGraw as an assistant before MacGraw was an actress. (Sidenote: A clip where MacGraw gets slightly tongue-tied while telling a story about Diana is one of he best edits in the movie.) Vreeland was also the inspiration for the fictional fashion editors in the movies Funny Face and Who Are You, Polly Magoo Her influence–both what she sent out and what she took in–knew no boundaries.

The line-up of folks who sat down to talk about Vreeland for this movie is like a who’s who of fashion. There are models (Verushka, Lauren Hutton, Anjelica Huston), photographers (Avedon, David Bailey, Joel Schumacher (wait, what!)), and designers (Calvin Klein, Anna Sui, Diane von Furstenberg, Manolo Blahnik), all of whom connected with Vreeland in some way. Diana’s children and grandchildren also talk about her, with the younger offspring being slightly more effusive. Some bitterness remains for Vreeland’s sons, who grew up at a disconnect from their mother. This, unfortunately, is only given cursory attention. Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has to Travel is meant as a tribute and not a full exploration; so, if there’s one downside here, it’s that it shies away from figuring out who Vreeland was when she wasn’t working. The filmmakers make a slim case for there being no life for her away from the magazine, and justify it with Vreeland’s own reluctance to discuss personal matters, but it still feels like a missed opportunity.

THE DVD

Video:
The video presentation on the Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has to Travel DVD is adequate. Colors are nice and resolution is fine. There’s a lot of archival footage, and that is cleaned up well, and the difference between the old stuff and the new is obvious. Judging by the modern interviews, you can see that this is essentially a solid DVD, nothing flashy, good enough for what it is.

Sound:
Audio is presented in English and given a 5.1 Dolby Digital mix. It’s a bit of overkill, since given the nature of Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has to Travel, it’s mostly talking and thus justifiably centered in the main speakers. Everything sounds clear and clean, regardless.

English subtitles for the deaf and hearing impaired are also available.

Extras:
Extras include a 44-minute compilation of more from the new interviews showcased in the film, and the theatrical trailer.

FINAL THOUGHTS:
Recommended. Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has to Travel is both entertaining and informative, spanning nearly a century and displaying the artistry and ongoing influence of its subject, the legendary editor of Harper’s Bazaar and Vogue. Featuring scads of photos, vintage clips, and new interviews, the documentary is a fitting tribute to a deserving, unique individual, even if it does shy away from some of the deeper aspects of her personality. Then again, darkness doesn’t really have pizzazz, now, does it

Jamie S. Rich is a novelist and comic book writer. He is best known for his collaborations with Joëlle Jones, including the hardboiled crime comic book You Have Killed Me, the challenging romance 12 Reasons Why I Love Her, and the 2007 prose novel Have You Seen the Horizon Lately, for which Jones did the cover. All three were published by Oni Press. His most recent project is the comedy series Spell Checkers, again with Jones and artist Nicolas Hitori de. Follow Rich’s blog at Confessions123.com.