DVD Spin Doctor

DVD reviews: 'Food Inc.,' 'A River of Waste'

Before Julia Child created her French revolution in American cooking, it was mostly housewives and home economics students who fretted about food. Now, of course, food and the art of cooking are national obsessions.

The politics, ethics and safety of our food supply have received unprecedented attention in the past decade, for good reason. Here are four documentaries that show the other side of the joy of cooking:

"Food, Inc." explores the nasty business of factory farming. It builds on the journalistic work done in the books "Fast Food Nation" and "The Omnivore's Dilemma." Authors Eric Schlosser and Michael Pollan, respectively, do Greek chorus duty throughout the documentary. (I also recommend "The Way We Eat" by Pete Singer and Jim Mason.)

Readers of "Omnivore's Dilemma" will recognize organic farmer Joel Salatin, a hero of both book and film. Beyond there, it's mostly bad guys who raise animals in a sea of shit and pain; who squeeze out well-meaning family farmers; who keep Americans fat and happy on a grotesque diet consisting mostly of corn products. We are basically walking corn chips, Pollan warns, and the evidence he brings to the table is plentiful.

 Magnolia Home Entertainment's DVD presentation of "Food, Inc." contains one noteworthy extra, a "Nightline" segment that revisits Salatin's back-to-nature farm/ranch. The proof is in the pigs, fat and happy in their forest mud holes.

"Food, Inc." recently made the short list for the documentary Oscars.

"A River of Waste" makes no pretense of objectivity; it is a full-on attack on the factory farms that have taken over our food supply. The movie charges that Big Ag is creating staggering amounts of chemically charged animal waste and dumping the toxic filth onto our soil and into our waterways.

The low-budget movie comes from Don McCorkell, who spent several decades as a legislator in Oklahoma. (He directed the film and serves as on-camera guide.)

"A River of Waste," subtitled "The Hazardous Truth About Factory Farms," feels like a hatchet job at first, but as the film unfolds and the evidence mounts, McCorkell's story becomes increasingly chilling. It seeks to turn viewers' disgust into political action. (The Cinema Libre DVD comes with no extra features of note.)

"Poisoned Water" examines the devastating impact of agricultural waste on the coastal estuaries of Puget Sound and the Chesapeake Bay. The two-hour program, originally aired on "Frontline," is hosted by everyman Hedrick Smith. It's geographically specific and slow moving, but there is plenty to learn from these sad case studies.

"Our Daily Bread" witnesses industrial food production for us. There is no narrator, no overt message beyond what is seen by the unblinking camera. In terms of dialogue, it is a silent movie. We hear what there is to hear, but no one speaks to us.

Austrian filmmaker Nikolaus Geyrhalter wanders European food production operations, taking us to the chemically treated fields and to the killing floor. We ride along with a sea of cute baby chickens and then watch their elders processed for the grocery mart. Kubrick comes to mind in some of this imagery.

Much is beautiful here and some is horrific. Geyrhalter likes to dwell on his scenes, implanting his vision with slow tracking shots. An amazing film, as eloquent as any of the others so filled with words. 

"Our Daily Bread" should be on Blu-ray, but for now we have Icarus FIlms' fine-looking DVD.

New DVD reviews: 'FTA,' History's 'The 60s'

"Foxtrot-tango-alpha," the man sang. "Tell me what does it mean? ... Free the Albanians?"

Nah. Anyone with a cup of coffee in the armed forces can tell you FTA spells Fuck the Army. A solid acronym, verb, adverb and proper noun, as handy as a P-38 can opener.

Back in 1971, Jane Fonda, Donald Sutherland and their FTA "political vaudeville" troupe told the military it stood for "Free the Army." They wanted to perform for the boys overseas, like Bob Hope in reverse. (Yeah, right.)

Four decades later, the former Hanoi Jane clears up any lingering confusion: 

"It meant Fuck the Army," she says in the DVD extras for the 1972 documentary "FTA"-- as if she were sharing a recently declassified military secret.

The docu film hasn't been seen in decades, but now the one-of-a-kind "FTA" is back in a good but sparse presentation from Docurama home video. 

I recall the movie playing our Army cinema in Colorado Springs in '72, at a time when the draft was ending and the military wanted to show its cool side to prospective volunteers. (A lot of counterculture movies screened on base, go figure.)

Director Francine Parker saw her film pulled from release after a week in release. She blamed Nixon's White House. 

Entertainment value just might have been a consideration: "FTA" no doubt plays a lot better as an unusual artifact. It'd make a great double-feature with Chris Marker's Japan travel piece "Sans soliel."

The docu tracks Fonda and company as they played 21 dates on the Pacific Rim, from Hawaii to Hiroshima, Japan. Performances were held off-base, and in some cases the military deliberately spread word of false starting times. Didn't help: FTA played before enthusiastic crowds of soldiers, sailors and airmen.

Fonda, interviewed recently in the DVD extras, tells how many of the boys showed up to get a glimpse of "Barbarella," the sci-fi vixen she played in the Roger Vadim movie of 1968.

"I was a pin-up" to many of them, she says. Fonda did the show in standard hippie-chick jeans and blouse, shag haircut and no makeup. "You could tell they were disappointed."

The FTA show wasn't much, anti-war comedy skits and some so-so political songs. ("FTA" answers the question why Fonda didn't do musicals.) Still, the performances had a lot of humor and heart.

The singer Rita Martinson provides a poignant moment as she performs her ballad "Soldier We Love You." The GIs seem delighted to get attention from these counterculture ambassadors.

Not surprisingly, the documakers were able to get lots of footage of troops bellyaching. I don't recall any anti-war activism in the barracks back in 1971 -- mostly we protested the food and the occasional shortages of good dope. 

In "FTA," director Parker captures the tour's turmoil with a fairly objective camera. Events speak for themselves. The silent coverage of local wage protests in Okinawa is particularly effective.

The FTA troupe, interestingly, freaks out when confronted by a right-wing GI protester. Other soldiers have to shut him up and get him out of the auditorium.

Sutherland looks alternately stoned and exhausted as he performs, somehow, like a pro. The Canadian does a great fast-talking comedy bit in which he calls the Vietnam War as if it were a ball game, a bit right out of "MASH." The movie's final words are his, as he speaks of "the futility and the horror and the stupidity of war." 

Parker's film looks quite good, considering. Audio is clear. The interesting 20-minute Fonda interview is the only extra, unfortunately. 

Docurama also recently released a well-received film about the anti-war movement in the military, "Sir! No Sir!"

* * * * *

Stashed away in the History Channel's new and expansive "The 60s" box set is "Peyote to LSD: A Psychedelic Odyssey," a terrific mind-expanding documentary that has little to do with the '60s. This appears to be its DVD debut. 

"Psychedelic Odyssey" centers on adventurer botanist Richard Evan Schultes, who searched for "the plants of the gods" in the Amazon and Mexico during the late 1930s and '40s. Our guide is contemporary explorer Wade Davis, a serious gent who wanders around Mexico and Brazil tripping with the locals.

Schultes is credited with discovering the indigenous people's "medicines" (psychedelic mushrooms and morning glory seeds), which were were applied by shamans. The ritualistic trips are used to treat psychological distress, addictions and assorted blahs of the spirit.

The docu checks in with psychedelic music star Bob Weir of the Grateful Dead and offers the usual goofy clips of 1960s acid tests, as well as comments from Timothy Leary and Ken Kesey. Schultes was no fan of the consumer psychedelic movement.

The two-hour docu's tone can be summed up thusly: 

When the beat poet William S. Burroughs found his way into the jungle and finally experienced the local highs, he spoke of world-shattering visions. 

"That's funny, Bill," Schultes replied. "All I saw were colors."

Plenty more freakouts can be found in A&E Home Entertainment's "The 60s" box set -- a sprawling affair with 14 DVDs packing in something like 29 hours of content.

"1968 With Tom Brokaw" looks at that kaleidoscope of a year from the perspective of the veteran anchor. We see young Brokaw at the intersection of Haight and Ashbury streets in 1968, wearing a tie and a bowl haircut. Decades later, he's back on the corner, without a tie but still looking lost. 

"1968" hits the highs and lows of that crazy-awful-giddy year, as you'd expect. The narrative and clips feel familiar. Good for high school kids, perhaps. The docu offers no revelations for those who were there in the late '60s and sort of remember it.

The best documentary in "The 60s" set appears to be "JFK: A Presidency Revealed," from 2003. 

The history of JKF's days in office spares us another lengthy visit to Dealey Plaza. The assassination is treated as epilogue. 

We learn about Kennedy's chronic and painful medical problems, which were covered up as carefully as his sexual liaisons. As a result, it appears the country was run by a workhorse drug addict during the "Camelot" era, one with his personal Dr. Feelgood.

Real White House audio tapes made by JFK are played as a shadowy actor wanders the Oval Office. We listen in as the president negotiates with the governor of Mississippi during a racial crisis. Later, JFK chews out an officer who let slip some information about the cost of the Kennedy family's stay in a military hospital. Startling and cool to hear this enraged American icon drop the F bomb.

One chilling tape captures the military chiefs urging the young president to strike first in the Cuban missile crisis. Kennedy's experiences with the botched Bay of Pigs operation taught him not to trust the officers, the docu argues, thereby preventing nuclear war.

"JFK" makes no investment in the myths surrounding the president. In the crowded field of Kennedy documentaries, this is among the best -- straight, no chaser.

Other documentaries in the History box set cover the civil rights movement, the Vietnam War, the radical protest movement and the race to the moon.

Buy "History Presents: The 60's" at Amazon.

Buy "FTA" at Amazon.

New DVDs: 'Man on Wire' soars

"Man on Wire" makes no mention of 9/11 or the destruction of the World Trade Center.

The documentary chronicles the plot to have a Frenchman tightrope across the Twin Towers -- the 20th century's greatest work of performance art. In the summer of '74, these foreign conspirators brought thrills, not terror.

The indie film by James Marsh has been collecting some awards this season, and rightly so. "Man on Wire" serves up an inspired mix of interviews, real footage and evocative re-enactments. Marsh works Errol Morris' turf with a light and free hand. The movie is artistic, funny and wise.

(Update: "Man on Wire" won the Oscar for documentary feature.)

Never mind that the tightrope daredevil Philippe Petit shows up in the Magnolia DVDs' extras with a self-centered rap that breaks the film's spell. In fact, consider skipping that recent interview and just going with the movie's charming portrait of the wire walker.

"Man on Wire" begins with flashbacks from Petit's life. We see him as a boy in a medical waiting room, looking at a drawing of the enormous pair of buildings planned for lower Manhattan. The acrobatic kid, who loves to walk on ropes, pencils in a line between the two giants, thus setting off on his great adventure. "I must acquire my dream," he declares.

The movie spends much of its time on how the support team is put together. It's reminiscent of the era's "The Anderson Tapes" or other elaborate heist films. The conspirators, who come from three continents, all get cool caper-friendly nicknames.

Using false IDs and workmen uniforms, they manage to get several tons of steel cable and other gear onto the top floors of the unfinished WTC. Security almost catches the tightrope team a couple of times, resulting in tense moments that the movie plays for maximum value.

By the time the daredevil's heroics begin, we've been up all night with the support team, watching them frantically get the steel cables in place before dawn (all via re-enactments). Petit wire-walks back and forth for almost an hour, dancing and sometimes lying down, accompanied on the soundtrack by the etherial sounds of Erik Satie. This too was a thing worthy of powerful Twin Towers memories.

Marsh, a few of you will recall, made a stylistically similar but disturbing film in "Wisconsin Death Trip," the adaptation of Michael Lesy's book about the wave of misery, madness and all-purpose weirdness that beset the immigrant town of Black River Falls in the 1890s. 

Marsh's re-enactments blend with the work of a gifted photographer who lived there and then as Ian Holm narrates, flatly. Images include creepy stuff like keepsake funeral shots of children, so beware of darkness.

Marsh doesn't make excuses for the film's "violent and disturbing and horrible" stories. "I have an interest in that," the British director says. "I think other people do, too."

Also circling the DVD blog's players this week is the exhaustive box set "Murnau, Borzage and Fox," one of the year's best home video releases. Review on its way.

New and notable DVDs and Blu-rays:

Blue Blood (aka If I Didn't Care) (Koch Vision)

The Dark Knight (Warner*)

Dr. Seuss' Horton Hears a Who! (Fox*)

The Early Works of Cheryl Dunye (First Run Features)

Europa  (The Criterion Collection)

Gunsmoke: Season 3, Vol. 1  (Paramount)

The House Bunny (Sony)

Lost: The Complete Fourth Season -- The Expanded Experience  (Disney*)

Mamma Mia! The Movie (Universal*)

Mr. Bean: The Ultimate Collection (A&E Home Video)

The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor (Universal)

Murnau, Borzage and Fox  (Fox)

Petticoat Junction (Paramount)

Rawhide: Season 3, Vol. 2 (Paramount)

Sangre de mi sangre (Blood of My Blood) (Genius Products)

Three Short Films by Werner Herzog (New Yorker Video)

Traitor (Overture Films/Anchor Bay)

Transformers Energon: The Ultimate Collection (Paramount)

Will Shakespeare  (A&E Home Video)

* = Available on Blu-ray. Covers Dec. 9-16.

New DVDs: 'Standard Operating Procedure'

Errol Morris' "Standard Operating Procedure" is one of those few films whose emotional pull is considerably strengthened by its presentation on home video.

Documentary detective Morris used his patented device of mixing real interviews and re-enactments to investigate the nightmarish photos taken at Abu Ghraib. Morris calls it "a non-fiction horror movie" about the 2003 abuses at the U.S. prison in Iraq -- not much of a stretch.

Once Morris' unsettling film is over, reality takes center stage. In a Q&A session at the Berlin Film Festival, the director gives an impassioned defense of his work and methods.

Under fire from a few audience members, a visibly upset Morris says his controversial re-enactments "are in service of the truth. I don't believe that pursuit ... has to obey certain documentary rules." Morris spends the better part of a half hour back on his heels, churning up real-life drama that would fit right into his films.

When pressed about his documentary's focus on the story from the perspective of the young U.S. prison guards who'd been convicted of abusing prisoners, Morris says, "This was a story about those soldiers who took the blame. ... I confined myself to this story. Of course, there are others ..."

In doing so, Morris opened himself to criticism from those who saw the soldiers as villains, not the clueless kids that the documentary suggests. (The young woman who posed next to a murdered prisoner while giving a thumbs-up signal explains that she always smiles for the camera.)

Plenty of evidence for either viewpoint can be found in the hours of extended interviews and deleted scenes found in the Blu-ray extras. Much of this bonus material is as fascinating and chilling as the content in the documentary. Certainly a lot of it is better than the lengthy summations that Morris allows to drone on at the end of his film.

Sony has released the Abu Ghraib documentary on DVD and Blu-ray. This review refers to the "Standard Operating Procedure" Blu-ray, which has all of the bonus content cited.

In high-definition, Morris' artful images look sensational -- alternately beautiful and horrifying. Colors are rich (the blood imagery frequently tests your stomach) and the in-focus detail is super-sharp. The TrueHD audio is reference quality, among the best I've heard on Blu-ray so far. 

The exceptional quality of audio and video make this hell ride through Abu Ghraib an immersive experience, one not to be entered into lightly.

The soft-spoken Morris does a solo commentary that's largely observational, but still worthwhile. (Catch the Q&A first.) Also included in the extras is a Berlin panel session that opens with the question, Can a photograph change the world?

* * * * *

A fiction horror movie, "The Strangers " plays on the adult nightmare of home invasion. Like the recent European suspense film "Them," it focuses on a thirtysomething couple's fight against mysterious sadists whose intent seems to be to drive their victims mad before the physical violence even begins.

Liv Tyler stars with Scott Speedman. The movie was written by Bryan Bertino, a first-timer out of Texas. It plays at times like "Straw Dogs," with extra gore and Halloween masks. Bertino calls it a "terror movie."

"The Strangers" does its dirty business matter of factly, with few of the idiot-plot devices that propel lesser horror films. The movie does a good job of transporting viewers into the place of the terrorized couple: The questions of What would you do? -- and Would you do better? -- always hanging there.

The low-budget "The Strangers" won't go down as a horror classic, but it does its business with an efficiency and intelligence that should satisfy adults looking for a good scare -- especially those who consider themselves too evolved for torture porn such as "Saw" and "Hostel."

The Universal DVD comes with the theatrical and unrated versions. The "unrated" scenes add up to a couple of minutes, no big deal. The making-of docu has a few good things -- such as Tyler running around the set to get into terror mode before the cameras roll --- but it's mostly routine stuff. There are a couple of extra scenes. 

If the movie leaves you good and creeped out, consider bypassing the extras and just letting the film fade to black.

New and notable DVDs:

• Alfred Hitchcock Premiere Collection (MGM)
• Chaplin (Lionsgate)
• CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, season 8 (Paramount)
• Holiday Inn (Universal)
• Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (Lucasfilm/Paramount)
• The Sarah Silverman Program, season 2, Vol. 1 (Paramount)
• Short Cuts (The Criterion Collection)
• Standard Operating Procedure (Sony)
• The Strangers (Universal)

Complete list of of releases from last Tuesday on my pal Harley's site, onvideo.org

New DVDs: 'Young@Heart' rocks steady

"Young@Heart" seems like a one-tricky pony: A bunch of upbeat geezers do versions of rock songs in a choral setting. Wheel chairs, walkers and breathing machines help keep the stage show rockin'.

Anyone with an interest in pop culture already knows the high-concept at work here, but that shouldn't stop music lovers of any age from checking out this fine Channel 4 documentary on the New Hampshire seniors.

Here's how "Young@Heart" opens. We hear the stop-and-go power chords of the Clash's "Should I Stay Or Should I Go." On the downbeat, a walker bangs the stage floor. A little old lady opens wide and screams, acting out the punk classic as if it were an English music hall ditty. The crowd goes wild.

Stephen Walker's docu tracks the Youngsters as they work up a new show ("Alive and Well") and debut it before a local audience. Some things go well; many do not.

The rock-chorus formula is tricky to execute, since the average age of these guys is 80. So when musical director Bob Cilman brings in Sonic Youth's "Schizophrenia," he knows no one has heard the (hometown) band, much less the song. Months of frustrating work lie ahead. Same with songs by Talking Heads, Jimi Hendrix, the Police and the Stones. Anyone up for "I Wanna Be Sedated"?

The movie hits its emotional peak as Fred Nittle takes a seat onstage and sings Coldplay's "Fix You." He's a big man with a bad heart who breathes with the help of an oxygen device. His assured performance is a tribute to two members who died the week before -- one was to sing the song with Nittle. Like many of the songs, the lyrics take on profound new meanings when performed by those knocking on heaven's door.

Powerful stuff. Likewise when the mourning chorus sings Dylan's "Forever Young" in front of a group of prisoners who no doubt miss their grannies. Hankies all around.

Fox Home Entertainment has released "Young@Heart" on a single DVD. It includes a dozen or so extra scenes and music videos, as well as a short film about the group's trip to L.A. for a show at the Wiltern.

The DVD extras don't tell the Young @ Heart history, unfortunately, so you have to piece it together during the movie. The group was founded in 1982 by resident of an elderly-housing project. The original acts had some female impersonations and a bit of a strip tease. The rock repertoire came much later.

To get in, you have to be 70 years old. Some are beginners, others have professional chops.

You don't learn much on the DVD about chorus master Cilman, except that he's a bit of a dick with a heart of gold. (Cilman's executive director of the local arts council as well.) The singers seem to fear him a bit, since he can and will drop their songs if they don't perform up to the chorus' standards. "He eats nails," one Youngster says with a weak smile.

The Fox DVD of "Young@Heart" looks and sounds OK (based on a bare-bones review copy). Turn it up for the music videos of "Road to Nowhere" and "Stayin' Alive"/"I Will Survive."

Also circling the DVD blog's players this week are the Criterion Collection's trio of Max Ophuls films: "The Earrings of Madame de ...," "La ronde" and "Le plaisir."

New and notable:

An American in Paris (Warner)
Beetlejuice (Warner*)
Busby Berkeley Collection, Vol. 2 (Warner)
Charlie Chan Collection, Vol. 5 (Fox)
Chuck: First Season (Warner)
Cybill (TV, First Look Studios)
Dirty Sexy Money (Disney)
Duckman, seasons 1, 2 (Paramount)
The Earrings of Madame de ... (The Criterion Collection)
La ronde (Criterion)
Le plaisir (Criterion)
88 Minutes (Sony*)
Gigi (Warner)
I-See-You.Com (Warner)
Kabluey (Sony)
Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains (Rhino)
The Love Guru (Sony*)
Made of Honor (Sony)
101 Dalmatians (live action, Disney)
101 Dalmatians II: Patch's London Adventure (Disney)
Private Practice, season 1 (Disney)
Pushing Daisies, season 1 (Warner*)
Risky Business (Warner*)
The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour, season 3 (Time Life)
Star Trek: Alternate Realities Collective (Paramount)
Tortured (Sony)
Young@Heart (Fox)

*=Blu-ray available

Roundup of today's releases on my friend Harley's onvideo.org

Chris Marker: A DVD deja vu

Chris Marker doesn't fit into any of the buckets or boxes we use to contain and categorize filmmakers.

The operative description seems to be "cine-essayist" -- but even that open-ended bag feels too conventional.

Most of the now-elderly French artist's films are documentaries, of sorts, but they're relentlessly personal, subjective and sometimes deliberately obscure.

Marker's partly an experimental filmmaker, a specialist in arthouse fare. While his films can be difficult, especially upon first viewing, the director always knows where he's going with his narratives and parables. Fans delight in trying to catch up.

Marker's video distributor calls him "the best-known author of unknown films."

His films often operate in a dreamlike state, where images can jet in from any source -- in static, filmed or animated form. The ever-present narrators appear recruited from a beat poetry reading or science fiction flick.

Marker's most famous film, "La Jetee" (1962), in fact, is best known for inspiring Terry Gilliam's science fiction entertainment "Twelve Monkeys." A cousin of Godard's "Alphaville," Marker's relatively short film about post-apocalyptic Paris consists almost entirely of still images that are given meaning and spin by the voice-over.

"Jetee" remains unusual for the director in that it's fiction, but the sci fi film established a Marker marker: a focus on time as a pliable, interlaced dimension barely controlled via the interface of memory.

The Criterion Collection last year released "La Jetee" on a double-bill with the swirling travel journal "Sans Soleil." That widely praised DVD introduced the relatively unknown filmmaker to many here in the States. Now comes a quartet of Marker releases from Icarius Films (First Run).

Begin with the best: The curious and adventurous should turn to "La Jetee"/"Sans Soleil," a marvelous disc that appeared on this DVD blog's list of 2007's top DVDs. These are the essential Marker films, coming two decades apart.

The "La Jetee" slide show technique is reprised on "Remembrance of Things to Come" (2001), the most compelling of the four new DVD releases.

"Remembrance" surveys the photography of French street photographer Denise Bellon (1902-99). In her between-the-wars photography, Marker finds a persistent and thematic foreshadowing of WWII's destruction of Europe. Marker's narration (read by Alexandra Stewart of "San Soleil") makes the case for Bellon's prescience.

The film, co-directed with Bellon's daughter Yannick, is framed by images from the first major surrealists exhibition and the last. (Bellon was a friend and booster of the pioneering surrealists.) In between, we see plenty of everyday life, a World's Fair, Africa, the Spanish Civil War, the Popular Front, the rise of Hitler's National Socialists and the Occupation.

Bellon's work stands on its own, but Marker added newsreel footage to fill in some of the gaps. As with most Marker films, the stated subject matter (Bellon's photography) is really a window to the true subject (the roots of the deadliest world war).

And so it is, as well, with Marker's "The Last Bolshevik," ostensibly a biography of the Russian filmmaker Alexander Medvedkin but in full a subjective history of Russia and the Soviet Union -- from the October Revolution to the eve of the Berlin Wall's fall. One witness calls the Soviet director "a whole era condensed into one life."

The Marker docu runs in two hourlong parts, with chapters of spoken "letters" to the Soviet director. Medvedkin was a "true believer," both a Red Army general and an outcast, whose story is told through interviews, scenes from his films and the usual Marker video fever dreams.

Medvedkin's "Happiness," an offbeat semi-comedy from 1934, accompanies the "The Last Bolshevik." The film failed to amuse the Red authorities, who nonetheless allowed the director to continue his career.

The hard-left's takes on wars in Vietnam and Iraq inspire the other two Marker DVDs.

"The Sixth Side of the Pentagon" (1967, 26 minutes) is a tight and mostly straightforward docu about the antiwar march on the Pentagon that was chronicled in Norman Mailer's "The Armies of the Night."

Marker does a brilliant job of setting up the confrontation between the well-organized protesters and the young security forces outside the military fortress. The narration skews hard left, of course, but the camera seems to respect both sides. Marker focused a lot on faces, giving the footage a contemporary feel. Some of the long shots recall Kurosawa, whom Marker would later profile in "A.K."

"Pentagon" is paired with "The Embassy" (1973, 21 minutes), an 8mm work of fiction that appears to document the trials of a bunch of Europeans hiding in an embassy during a third-world coup. The audio hasn't aged well, making it a strain to follow the minimalist plot. A minor work.

"The Case of the Grinning Cat" provides an excuse to cover the French reaction to the events of 9/11. Much of this concerns a presidential election, which keeps things pretty much localized.

Marker, long fond of cat imagery, sets out to discover the source of some street art: a yellow grinning cat that started appearing here, there, everywhere in Paris during the tense period. Marker's tale of the cat and his bemused take on the "flash mobs" that found plenty to protest in those days come in sharp contrast to the violence and urgency of the "Pentagon" film.

The most interesting material on the disc comes in a series of short films about animals. "The Bestiary" contains five shorts, some weird and some cute. 1972's "Three Cheers for the Whale" makes a quick run through the history of commercial whaling, protesting the super-efficient modern hunting of the giant animals. It's framed as a letter (or lecture) to whales.

* * * * *

In the 1985 documentary "A.K.," Akira Kurosawa says there are so many beautiful images to be found around a location shoot, it's a shame no one ever films them. Marker does.

The docu maker, in his narration, cites the temptation to feed off Kurosawa's gorgeous set-ups for the warlord movie "Ran," but promises to film the proceedings from "our level" -- as in, the grunt's-eye level. Not much of a handicap for Marker as he wanders around the location on Mount Fuji, with its fog-wrapped prefab castles and armies of feudal-warrior extras.

It takes all of 10 seconds for Marker to invoke his great theme of memory, but for this project the documentarian is content to remain still much of the time, letting the film be carried by images, the music, the sounds of men and horses, and Kurosawa's observations on filmmaking.

"A.K." seeks no truths beyond what is there for a visitor's ears and eyes. Marker remains reverential throughout, a fan and a disciple. Appropriately, he takes to calling Kurosawa "sensei," meaning master.

Kurosawa is observed closely, but never interviewed on camera. The master's comments come from low-fi audio cassette recordings, which Marker says were recorded as Kurosawa was talking with friends. (Marker, presumably, counts as a friend.)

"A.K." is available on Criterion's latest version of "Ran," a double-DVD set worth owning for a host of reasons, including Marker's fine docu.

Fans of Chris Marker surely will appreciate another recent Criterion release, of Guy Maddin's trippy and mysterious "Brand Upon the Brain," a modern silent film with narrator.

DVD reviews: PBS 'Presidents' & BBC 'History'

I hate history. As in, TV history -- that endless parade of Hitler's "secrets," UFO breakthroughs, fighter jets that changed the world and musty apocalyptics.

Even some straight-up historical docus come accompanied by the world's worst re-enactments. Need there be one more uncredited fat guy done up as Henry VIII? The History Channel and its offshoots are prime offenders, but PBS and the BBC have their indictable moments as well.

Watching that crap makes you marvel at the quality of "The Presidents Collection," a brick-like DVD set saluting the commanders-in-chief of the past 100 years. The PBS box set contains a whopping 35 hours of documentary footage, without a single hack actor in sight.

Sound like a grad-school cram session? Nah. These history lessons are first-rate entertainments, in the spirit of Ken Burns' works, but more businesslike. They're all from the "American Experience" series, created by PBS programming powerhouse WGBH.

When the time comes to profile the administration of Barak Obama or John McCain -- or, um, Sarah Palin -- let's hope the folks at "American Masters" will be standing by. The weird events of summer of '08 will require some pretty good explaining.

Release of the PBS/Paramount DVD box set of "The Presidents Collection" was timed to the political conventions, of course. Individual titles have been available for some time.

U.S. leaders covered in the PBS set are Theodore Roosevelt, Woodrow Wilson, FDR, Harry Truman, "The Kennedys," Lyndon Johnson, Richard Nixon, Jimmy Carter, Ronald Reagan and George W. Bush. The glaring omission is Dwight Eisnhower, whose "American Masters" profile came out in 1993.

The "American Masters" presidents series started in 1990 with "Nixon," and more or less presented a profile a year leading up to the senior George Bush's docu of this year.

I'd seen most of them over the years, but not the Jimmy Carter piece. On the eve of Obama's convention, it proved a perfect time to revisit the outsider from Georgia's four years in the White House.

We all know the ending: A presidency that began with soaring hopes, the best of intentions and too few policy specifics ended in shame and misery. As the final seconds ticked away on the Carter administration, the docu shows us the president's pain as he waits all night in vain, praying for Iran to release the American hostages.

Like many of these docus, "Jimmy Carter" runs in two parts, across three hours. Linda Hunt voiced the narration, as she did for "Woodrow Wilson" (Jason Robards did several other profiles).

Watching Carter's populist ascent and nasty decline brought reminders of just how much drama that one one presidential term contained: The Middle East peace accord, the Bert Lance scandal, the energy crisis, runaway inflation with its 19% interest rates, Carter's bone-headed "malaise" speech -- and, of course, the embassy hostage crisis.

While these docus are of necessity event-driven, "Jimmy Carter" is fairly successful at examining the man as well as the presidency. Equal servings of sugar and vinegar. This docu would make a terrific double feature with Jonathan Demme's profile "Jimmy Carter Man From Plains."

At a time when some of our highest-profile documentaries come with agendas ("An Inconvenient Truth," "The Man From Plains"), it's good to be reminded how dramatic and hard-hitting objective content can be.

The 162 minutes of "Carter" flew by. I was immediately looking for extra features, which didn't exist, aside from a PDF teachers guide. (In the box set, only "Woodrow Wilson" comes with bonus features.)

My high-schooler, who knew little of Carter, came away with a small book's worth of knowledge. He loves history.

* * * * *

Those tiring of politics in the new world should check out Simon Schama's "A History of Britain," recently repackaged by A&E Home Entertainment. This is the best historical video series I've seen since Ken Burns' glory days, perhaps since "The Civil War."

Writer and "presenter" Schama is a real-deal professor of history at Columbia University. His books include "Rembrandt's Eyes" and "Citizens: A Chronicle of the French Revolution." If he'd been your history teacher, you'd probably be a historian.

Schama's relentless subjectivity, and his way of dwelling on certain events and people -- at the expense of others that are arguably more important -- have a way of hacking off more formal academics. He makes unlikely connections and plays with time frames as he sees fit. These are the qualities that help make "A History of Britain: The Complete Collection" such a treat.

The 15-part documentary series, made for the BBC as part of its millennium celebrations, made him a celebrity and a CBE. In the U.S., the series ran on the History Channel.

Like the previous A&E DVD box set of 2002, the new release has 15 hours of material spread over five discs. This time, the old clamshell DVD cases are discarded, making the box about a third of the depth of the old case. No reason to upgrade, of course, but it's a great excuse the write about the set.

Schama's journey takes us from the Stone Age through WWII, although the latter more familiar years are wisely shuffled through.

His history of the British Isles is the history of its great and infamous leaders. He spends quality time with Richard the Lionheart, Longshanks, Queen Elizabeth I, Mary Queen of Scots, Oliver Cromwell and Winston Churchill, while barely mentioning some other major figures.

Schama's talks and lectures often are delivered from the locations where the events occurred. It helps to remember that the professor was primarily working for a British audience, which knows a great deal more about these people and events than the U.S. viewers. That elevates the level of conversation, a good thing.

Those needing remedial work could turn to the three companion books from the series.

Blu-ray review: 'Step Into Liquid'

Having spent my life in Florida and California, I know a lot about surfing. Learned it all from the classic songs written by Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys, who never shot a curl in his life.

That's no handicap when it comes to appreciating great surfing movies. 2005 saw the DVD release of Z-boy Stacy Peralta's "Riding Giants" -- about the steeled men who stalk the planet's biggest waves -- and now we have the Blu-ray rendition of "Step Into Liquid," a 2003 film from the "Endless Summer" legacy team.

Neither of these films demands much from its audience beyond a sense of awe. The movies aren't made just for surfers -- they take time to explain what's going and preach to the unconverted with a loose evangelical tone. After watching these artful docus, it seems like a good idea to get out there and take a lesson or two.

LionsGate Entertainment's "Step Into Liquid" looks quite good on Blu-ray, sometimes sensational, although the HD disc is well shy of reference quality. The film was shot on both HD and on film, with the priority on action, so the quality of source materials varies. The DTS-HD front-centered audio is strong and sure-footed.

Surfing stars as well as regular guys (and gals) personalize each of the segments. Director Dana Brown (pictured), whose father created the seminal surf pic "The Endless Summer," sounds a lot like his dad when he's doing the narration.

The ratio is 1.85:1, as shot. The surf-porn visuals are all you'd expect -- but in this film they're half of the draw. The video-wow shares the ride with the dramatic content, which comes in a series of human interest stories.

There's the profile of Dale Webster, a somewhat athletic aging hippy out of Northern California who has surfed every day for 30 years. The brothers Malloy find the forbidding seas of their ancestral Ireland worthy of surfing; while not riding, they share their watery passion with kids from both sides of the troubles. A guy who was paralyzed while surfing still rides with the help of his loosey-goosey pals.

In Costa Rica, we're reunited with "The Endless Summer" star Robert August and his senior sidekicks. On the Gulf of Mexico, surf's up in the wake of oil tankers. Oahu's North Shore and this primo spot a hundred miles off the California coast provide the big-wave action -- and the jaw-dropping HD visuals. Don't stop the movie before the skyscrapers-of-water finale. Surf is about as up as it gets.

The Blu-ray extras are OK; some are pretty basic. There's a visit to a custom surfboard factory, a borderline-worthless surfing 101 video and an extended chat with amateur Webster. Deleted scenes include "Surfing Rabbi." Two featurettes and some clips look at how the movie was shot. The extras were ported over from the DVD.

The casual commentary comes from director Brown, who talks mostly about what's happening onscreen, and what it was like traveling the world to make "Step Into Liquid."

Both of these films come with killer surf-music soundtracks, as we've every right to expect.

"Riding With Giants" first wanders through the history of the sport through the eyes of 1950s and '60s surf legend Greg Knoll, rider of what is considered the mother of all 20th century waves. The amateur footage takes us back to the days before (and after) "Gidget" made surfing a commodity. Then there's a lengthy visit with the loons who surf the rocky coast of Northern California, a potentially fatal challenge that felled a top rider from Hawaii.

The "Giants" are on full display in the film's final act, in which surfers are towed into the deep waters where the waves get up to 80 feet or so. The story is told via a life of big-wave tamer Laird Hamilton, whom we meet as a sun-bleached island boy in need of a dad.

Generous extras include a commentary with director Peralta, best known for his outstanding skateboarding documentary "Dogtown and Z-Boys." The other track has Knoll, Hamilton and some other stars swapping stories. Sony has the rights; let's hope a Blu-ray will surface soon.

New DVDs: The joy of 'King of Kong'

I know the villain in the movie "The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters." He hails from Fort Lauderdale, Fla., my hometown.

Never met the man, but I've known plenty like him in "Fort Liquordale." A weasel with a mullet and a lame hustle. That's one of the reasons I left as soon as I could drive.

Now Billy Mitchell might in reality be an OK guy, but his profile in the documentary "The King of Kong" comes straight out of an old western. Say "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance." He's not twirling his mustache, just stroking that natty black beard.

On the other side is Steve Wiebe, our Jimmy Stewart. He's a good-hearted family guy from the Northwest who's never been all that good at anything but playing Donkey Kong, the old arcade game.

Wiebe wants to be accepted by the arcade-game establishment (go figure) and post the high score for the planet. Mitchell holds that world record and is in no hurry to give it up. He runs away from a joy-stick showdown the entire movie, preferring to slither around and send in dubious videos of his latest triumphs.

"King of Kong" works the good-vs.-evil angle shamelessly, delightfully. As you've probably heard, this was one of the best films of last year. And, um, the Best Movie Ever Made About Arcade Games.

The story is a moving target, so the extras lead off with "The Saga Continues," which updates the audience using that "Star Wars" scroll. There's an hour of additional interviews and clips expanding on the arcade world and its denizens. Plus, a side-by-side comparison of the two players' styles and a fun animated history of Donkey Kong. The director and producer do one commentary; another comes from IGN's editorial director and an arcade-inspired artist.

The video looks fine in widescreen and the center-oriented audio does OK with the various songs you'd expect to hear.

Also circling the DVD blog's players this week are "El Cid," that magnificent epic (more to come), and an "Immaculate Edition" of Monty Python's so-so "Life of Brian" that looks heaven-sent on Blu-ray.

Also: With all the crap on TV and all the crappiness associated with that business right now, it's a cleansing experience to watch PBS' four-part "Pioneers of Television."

Pick of the week: El Cid
Dog of the week: No woofers, sorry

New and notable:
Bordertown (ThinkFilm)
Chancer, Series 2 (Acorn Media)
Cisco Kid Collection (MPI)
The Comebacks (Fox)
Curb Your Enthusiasm season 6 (HBO Video)
Daddy Day Camp (Sony)
Drumline Special Edition (Fox)
El Cid (Weinstein Co./Genius)
Groundhog Day (Sony)
Hannah Montana: One in a Million (Disney)
JAG season 5 (Paramount)
King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters (New Line)
Monty Python's Life of Brian: The Immaculate Edition (Sony)
Moving McAllister (Magnolia Home Entertainment)
The Nines (Sony)
Pioneers of Television (Paramount)
Rocket Science (HBO Video)

Complete list of today's releases on my pal Harley's site, onvideo.org

Scorsese tracks Lewton, 'Man in the Shadows'

These days, Martin Scorsese seems almost as valuable as a fan of films as he is as a director of films. Scorsese never tires of hailing the great filmmakers who've gone before him. A while back, for example, he revisited the great directors of his family homeland in "My Voyage to Italy."

The DVDs of "The Departed" included a tribute to Scorsese's gangster pic roots. He just penned the booklet notes for the Beatles' "Help!" The man just loves film.

The director's latest docu tribute is "Martin Scorsese Presents Val Lewton: The Man in the Shadows." The "Raging Bull" director produced and narrates this look at Lewton, the great B-movie producer of the 1940s best known for "Cat People." No Scorsese fan could miss Lewton's influence on the famous modern director.

Warner Home Video is updating its outstanding "The Val Lewton Horror Collection" with a new Lewton box set that's identical except for inclusion of Scorsese's docu. (Amazon's price on the new set is a bit cheaper.)

Lewton admirers who own the previous (terrific) box set should buy "Man in the Shadows" separately. Or record TCM's broadcast of the docu Jan. 14, the day before it's released on DVD.

The docu premiered at the AFI film festival last week and was reviewed by the Hollywood Reporter, which found: "The film argues, with psychoanalytic fervor, that the dark, haunted spirit of most of the Lewton films grew out of the producer's own melancholy temperament. In this sense he was more the auteur of these films than their credited writers or directors." On the down side, "The weakness of the film is its overly verbose narration, which is read by Scorsese himself."

The "Lewton Collection," regardless of which version you buy, contains nine B-movie wonders he produced for RKO in the 1940s. Lewton's best-known works -- the stylish and sexy "Cat People" and the voodoo excursion "I Walked With a Zombie" -- staked out the psychological horror genre. Both were done with director Jacques Tourneur, who gave Lewton's works a sophisticated noirish look. The men "were like Lennon and McCartney," horror director Guillermo del Toro says in the extras.

This DVD set, which includes a trio of Boris Karloff thrillers, has the same titles as Image's 1995 laserdisc box. All but two of the films have commentaries by Lewton enthusiasts, which are uniformly good. The carried-over docu, "Shadows in the Dark," tracks the producer from his youth in Russia to his stint with David O. Selznick to his successful run at RKO. Del Toro, George A. Romero and Neil Gaiman are among the horror elite who pay tribute to Lewton.

RKO stole Lewton from Selznick, hungry for monster movies that could duplicate Universal's success. But, film historian Steve Haberman says, Lewton "was thinking about what in reality frightens people: the dark, the unknown, madness, death."

"Cat People" (1942) startled audiences with its brazen marriage of sex and suspense. "Twilight Zone" director John Landis says he's still amazed at "how sexually sophisticated it is." "Cat People" tells of a dark-haired beauty whose belief in "mad legends" makes her refuse to sleep with her new husband, fearing she will morph into a predator cat. Marketed as "stark shockery and killing chillery," the film gave Lewton a hit the first time out.

RKO ordered Lewton to use prefab titles, including the goofy "I Walked With a Zombie" (1943). Like "Cat People," "Zombie" made good use of RKO sets left over from the Orson Welles era, showcasing them in silky black and white. Borrowing from "Jane Eyre" and "Rebecca," Lewton and Tourneur delivered another 70-minute marvel, about a nurse who comes to the Caribbean to care for a woman who appears possessed by voodoo priests. Fast-talking British commentators Kim Newman and Steve Jones are spot on ("The dominant element of this film is Venetian blinds," one observes, deadpan).

Other gems include "The Seventh Victim" (directed by Mark Robson), "The Leopard Man" (Tourneur) and the night-and-fog Karloff starrer "The Body Snatcher" (Robert Wise).

All of these films show their age. They're damaged in varying degrees. Just like the lost souls in Lewton's pictures.

Preorder the new Val Lewton Collection.