DVD Spin Doctor

Blu-ray review: 'Sling Blade'

The indie classic "Sling Blade" hasn't aged a day since 1996 -- it remains heartfelt, compelling and wise.

Billy Bob Thornton's breakthrough film has just been released in the Blu-ray format by Disney/Miramax. It returns in the original theatrical version.

Thornton has acted in about 70 films -- including "Friday Night Lights," "Monster's Ball" and "Bad Santa." No matter what else he does, though, Thornton likely will be remembered for "Sling Blade" and its hero, the lumbering avenger Karl. No wonder Thornton poured so much charm and energy into the extras that appear on this disc.

"That movie was a moment of hillbilly zen," recalls the singer Dwight Yoakam, one of Thornton's many pals who worked on the $1 million film.

During production, "Nobody knew there was a movie being made in Arkansas and no one cared," Yoakam says. "No one in L.A. is called Billy Bob."

The new "Sling Blade" Blu-ray disc presents the movie at its original 135-minute running time -- it's not the 148-minute director's cut that unspooled on the previous 2005 DVD, despite the nearly identical packaging.

"Sling Blade" looks handsome enough on Blu-ray, but remember this was a low budget affair. The upgrade in visual quality from the 2005 DVD to this high definition disc is evident but unremarkable. In 5.1 DTS-HD, the "Sling Blade" sound is warm and mostly clear, but it retains the occasional boominess that also existed on previous DVDs.

The improbable success story of Thornton and "Sling Blade" is told and retold in the generous-to-a-fault extras, which add up to something like seven hours. Some folks would call it overkill -- your mileage may vary. 

These extras were ported over in total from the "Sling Blade: Director's Cut" and appear in standard definition with the horizontal black bars.

The film went on to gross north of $25 million (the big film fests didn't want it; Harvey Weinstein of Miramax did). Thornton walked away with an Oscar for adapted script, even though he was adapting his own work.

The slow-thinking, slow-talking Karl (Thornton) became a pop culture sensation -- "Hollywood's guy du jour," as Time put it. Mimics loved his protruding jaw and curious speech patterns. Mmm-hmm.

Thornton first recorded the commentary for a Criterion laserdisc. He whispers like a hung-over golf analyst at times. Given the expanses of the bonus material, admirers will be better served by the profiles and interviews. (Thornton updated the talk for the new material on the director's cut.)

Missing is the original Karl short film, "Some Folks Call It a Sling Blade," directed by George Hickenlooper. Not much mention is made of it, either. (You can still buy it in Amazon.)

One of the best bits is a roundtable discussion with Yoakam (who turned heads playing a liquored-up bad ass), veteran actor-musician Mickey Jones ("Home Improvement"), producer David Bushnell and Thornton. A lot of the talk is about music, which Thornton insists is at the heart of the movie. Thornton then reunites with scorer Daniel Lanois in a 22-minute segment. Lanois performs Karl's theme music and recalls the score as having "a nice naïve spirit."

Two docus profile the down-home director: "Mr. Thornton Goes to Hollywood" from 1996 and a more recent bio from Bravo. Together they add up to almost two hours, plenty of time to cover Thornton's childhood, his early "days of hell" in L.A. as a waiter and B-movie actor, the breakthrough with "One False Move" and the story of Karl's creation. Thornton goes home again to Arkansas in one of the segments, dispensing plenty of charm and backslaps.

Thornton worked with John Ritter on a sitcom while he was prepping "Sling Blade," and had no trouble recruiting his pal to play a gay store manager who shares a surrogate family with Karl. In Arkansas, Ritter was subjected to a bizarre bowl-shaped haircut that rendered him almost unrecognizable. "He never forgave me for that," Thornton says, fondly.

Robert Duvall ("my mentor and friend") talks about his brief but key part as Karl's shell-shocked dad. Also included are an odd clip called "The Return of Karl," apparently shot at a party, some raw on-set video, and a trio of interesting print feature stories labeled as reviews. An after-the-credits coda featuring a pair of minor characters didn't make the cut but appears here.

It's great to see Disney reissue this Miramax classic in the new format of choice. Owners of the director's cut disc might want to rent it to revisit the shorter theatrical cut in improved A/V; first-time buyers shouldn't hesitate to pick up the "Sling Blade" Blu-ray.

Related content: "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" on Blu-ray.

Indie, international DVDs real cheap

Up for a cheapskate's film festival? I rarely post about DVD sales, but this one from Amazon seems right in tune with this blog.

The online retail giant says it has DVDs of 900 indie and foreign films on sale, with prices starting out at $5.99 and discounts of up to 60%. The discs are all new. (For some reason, the rare "King of Hearts" popped up in the group, at $43.) 

(Update: The indie/foreign sale is over.)

Meanwhile, Amazon has some indie online rentals on sale for 99 cents, but I didn't see anything worth sharing with you.

Diving into the discount bin, I found 10 gems that haven't been reviewed on the DVD blog. Seven are from foreign directors. The DVDs are $8.99 unless noted.

• Downfall: Gripping film about Hitler in his bunker.
• Gosford Park: Robert Altman's upstairs, downstairs tale.
• The Double Life of Veronique: Kieslowski's commercial breakthrough (not the Criterion DVD). $7.99 
• Night Watch: First-rate vampire fantasy from Russia.
• Cache: Underrated French thriller with Juliette Binoche.
• Far From Heaven: Channeling Douglas Sirk in 2002. With Julianne Moore.
• Fellini's Satyricon: They also have Roma. From MGM. 
• The Long Good Friday: Bob Hoskins and Helen Mirren in a 1982 U.K. underworld classic.
• The Fog of War: Explosive documentary with Robert S. McNamara.
• Y Tu Mama Tambien (unrated): Sexy Mexican road trip movie from young Alfonso Cuaron.

I can't swear these are the best versions out there, but the price is right and the films are outstanding. Check out the indie and foreign DVD sale.

Powell & Pressburger visit 'Small Black Room'

Michael Powell's "too-English" movies can be hard to come by on region 1 DVD, so the release of three in one month merits a hearty "well done."

From the Criterion Collection comes the wartime drama "The Small Black Room" (1949). MPI, meanwhile, brings us a pair of older shorter titles on one DVD: "The Phantom Light" (1935) and "Red Ensign" (1934).

"The Small Back Room" came after a remarkable string of films from the Archers -- aka Powell and writer Emeric Pressburger. How's this for a a five-year period: "The Red Shoes," "I Know Where I'm Going!" "A Canterbury Tale" and "Black Narcissus."

The Archers had done a good bit of work in color, but returned to their wartime filmmaking methods with "Black Room," shot in contrasty black and white. The public, perhaps, was not ready to return to the war years in 1949, and the film tanked.

Critics were impressed, but some pointed out that the film didn't seem to know if it was a war movie or a domestic study. The New York Times called it a "curiously stilted drama." Film academic Charles Barr, who does the Criterion DVD's commentary, calls "Black Room" a mix of "realism, expressionism, documentary record and film noir."

The movie contains a trio of arcs. The unifying element is Sammy Rice (David Farrar), an explosives expert/scientist given to childlike rages and alcoholic weirdness. He'd long ago lost a foot in unexplained fashion. Rice lives with his girlfriend (Kathleen Byron), a nurturing and long-suffering secretary in the same war research center. (Actors Farrar and Byron appeared together memorably in "Narcissus" the year before.)

Rice is asked to evaluate a new armor-piercing weapon that's been caught up in politics and petty bureaucratic wrangling. Meanwhile, Hitler and "Jerry" start planting curious explosive devices around England that seem to target schoolchildren. Rice works the mystery, probably hoping to blow himself up.

The military storylines do feel secondary to the domestic drama, with the marvelous, otherworldly actress Byron always threatening to vaporize the best efforts of Farrar. Powell's cameras seem in love with her.

Film buffs know the movie for two scenes: one in which the flawed scientist is caught up in a Dali-esque alcoholic delirium; and another great piece of suspense in which he tries to disarm one of the Germans' fiendish devices on a pebble-covered beach.

Powell noted that the beach scene ran about 17 minutes, the same as the big number in "The Red Shoes" -- all an audience can handle, he said.

Scriptwriter Pressburger adapted the film from a well-regarded novel by Nigel Balchin. Powell wanted to do the project largely because of the bomb-disarming chapter. "It was one of those cinema piece de resistance" scenes over-analyzed by film schools, he wrote in his autobiography. If critics all hated the delirium sequence, they loved this one and praised its suspense, the director said.

From the great distance of today, "The Small Black Room" looks pretty good -- far better than so many famed WWII dramas that fell victim to time. The film noir lighting and heavy atmospherics help make the film audience-friendly in the new century.

"The more you look at the film, the more complex it and its hero become," Barr says on his (sleepy) DVD track. He declines to do a "full psychoanalytical reading," but allows that the small bomb's black casing looks mighty phallic.

The film's attention to military authenticity also helps: "We were all very much aware of what things were like" during the war, says cinematographer Chris Challis. Powell & Pressman cranked out propaganda films for the government only years before, some of them quite watchable today.

Challis, who's interviewed in a 20-minute extra, says the beach scene "was all Mickey" (Powell). "He had a wonderful visual sense; he always knew how he wanted his films to look." The other extra feature has Powell reading from his memoirs, as he did on Criterion's recent rerelease of "The Thief of Bagdad."

Audio and video are up to Criterion's standards.

"The Phantom Light," from the MPI collection "Classic British Thrillers," concerns mysterious goings-on at a lighthouse off the coast of Wales. The working elements are "ghosts and murderers and thugs."

Gordon Harker gets all the great lines as a Cockney lighthouse keeper who replaces the former tenant, who disappeared in the fog and black waters. Then there's that weird light ...

"The Phantom Light's" odd villagers and supernatural possibilities look forward to the Archers' "A Canterbury Tale" (a magnificent film also out on Criterion -- link goes to the blog's review). "Phantom Light" runs a snappy and pleasurable 75 minutes.

"Red Ensign" also keeps it short (66 minutes), but brings a lot more substance. Like "Phantom Light," it's also a "quota quickie" film, made without Pressman.

"Red Ensign" tells of a maverick Scottish shipmaker out to create a new freighter so radical that it returns the sagging British fleet to commercial viability.

The shipbuilder (Leslie Banks of "The Most Dangerous Game" fame) proves to be a Mr. Bill kind of guy, slapped down by evil competitors, the law and his own board of directors, but always rising again. The movie has a cut-rate "Citizen Kane" feel to it at times, along with some fine wry humor.

The third title in the MPI set, "The Upturned Glass," stars a young James Mason. All of the films suffer from various typical age marks, such as flashing and negative scratches, but the presentations are quite workable.

'Juno' DVD review: Extras special

"Juno" the DVD feels comfy and low-key, a lot like "Juno" the movie.

You won't miss the usual three-part making-of documentary, refreshingly absent on this DVD and replaced by better stuff.

Screen tests rarely are worth more than a curiosity pass-by, but the "Juno" DVD delivers something special. The lengthy test scenes are shot like a play, the background mostly black. Most of the main actors are present.

Star Ellen Page (Juno) and onscreen boyfriend Michael Cera are noticeably younger and less polished as they run through their lines. The scenes and their additional dialog feel as if they came from an off-Broadway play you'd want to see, another testament to screenwriter Diablo Cody's Oscar-winning work. Page seems a lot more vulnerable than in the movie, looking rather exhausted as the tryout wears on.

The commentary with Cody and sophomore director Jason Reitman should get a listen from anyone who cares about the best picture-nominated movie (this year's "Little Miss Sunshine" in the big Academy trophy trot). Cody, usually identified as an ex-stripper, sounds a lot like her lead character: alternately cynical and charming, part kid and part baby adult. Not surprisingly, she says "My So-Called Life" was a big influence.

Cody's chemistry with Reitman keeps the commentary rolling effortlessly throughout. They have great friendly chemistry, teasing and playing around while delivering story after story about the production. Cody and Reitman are talking to each other while keeping the listener included in the fun, a good trick.

Reitman ("Thank You for Smoking") gets into some detailed production notes -- which prompts Cody to kid him about veering off into film school.

Reitman and Cody point out a lot of set detail, such as the bit of whimsy in which each major character has a specific chair. Reitman says he was always bugged how movies got teenagers' rooms wrong, so the two point out all the efforts that went into getting them right here.

A staffer drove from Vancouver to the States to get the lip gloss that Cody preferred so Page could use it. (Similar dedication went into underwear, but you'll have to hear that from them.)

Reitman wasn't so set on 100% accuracy when it came to one aspect of teen life. Visiting various schools during location scouting, he noted: "The kids all had cell phones. It was heartbreaking." And so there are no cell phones in "Juno." When our heroine needs to make a call, she uses a phone booth.

DVD review: 'A Canterbury Tale'

The English mainstream loves its eccentrics, but purveyors of the strange had better watch their step.

British director Michael Powell saw his distinguished career shredded in 1960 with the release of the psycho-voyeur study "Peeping Tom." Reviled in its day, "Tom" found respectability of a sort in the decades since.

The director flirted with a similar fate 16 years earlier with the far-gentler but certifiably weird "A Canterbury Tale," one of several World War II-era efforts from Powell and his screenwriting partner Emeric Pressburger (aka "the Archers").

Released in the States by the Criterion Collection, the stealth propaganda film is long overdue for consideration by U.S. film fanciers, most of whom have never heard of it. (This review refers to Criterion's release of July 2006, still the best in market.)

"Canterbury" remains "a truly strange film," says film historian Ian Christie, who provides outstanding commentary on the double-DVD set. The movie "sets about its propaganda in an almost perverse and certainly playful way."

"Canterbury" contains no Churchill speeches, no demon Nazis, no fiery images of the blitz. Instead, its strategy seemed to be to unfurl a vision of a rural Britain so stirring that the citizenry could only get swept up in the war effort -- as their soldier boys do in the heart-swelling finale, marching off to the sound of a celestial "Onward Christian Soldiers."

Critics and audiences of 1944 weren't saluting. So poorly received was "Canterbury" that Powell quickly came to doubt one of his finest works, cutting out a half hour and adding dumb bookend scenes so American moviegoers could relate to it (they didn't). Powell said it took years for him to appreciate "Canterbury" as one of his best.

"Mickey (Powell) was very saddened by the reviews," says Sheila Sim, who played the heroine. "Who wouldn't be."

"Canterbury" finally was restored to its original running time of 124 minutes in the late '70s; today, the movie is a regular on the British film fest circuit with its many Archers tributes. The "Canterbury" video footprint in the States barely exists -- an old VHS release on Home Vision, but apparently no Region 1 DVD.

The film begins with Chaucer's jolly 14th century pilgrims making their way to Canterbury in search of blessings. Time does a jig as a falcon in flight morphs into a Spitfire warplane (a transition that almost surely pleased young Stanley Kubrick).

The film's trio of World War II pilgrims -- two soldiers, American and British, and a Women's Land Army girl -- meet in the middle of the night at a train station outside Canterbury. They're introduced in film noir-style lighting, a scheme that comes and goes throughout the film.

The twilight zone creeps in as the young travelers encounter a boogeyman who dumps glue on the hair of Kent's young women. Motive? To make them afraid of dating soldiers, especially the Americans.

The Glue Man's low-rent B-story turns sublime, in time. "I don't think the critics could fathom what it was about," says actress Sim, who goes by Lady (Richard) Attenborough these days. (The boogeyman started out as a dress slasher, but the sexual overtones were a bit much even for Powell.)

Outside of sporadically trying to unmask the Glue Man, our pilgrims don't do much, really; most of the film concerns the countryside, hardworking villagers, the old ways living on, animals and insects, modest hopes and personal sorrows. Think Terrence Malick: "Canterbury" viewers must come equipped with patience.

The final scenes follow the soldiers, the girl and the elegant glue suspect (Eric Portman) to Canterbury, which was heavily damaged in the bombing but still is possessed of its towering cathedral, home of miracles.

Few propaganda films outlive their conflicts. What makes this one a robust time traveler, Sim speculates today, is "the connection with history and the people who've gone before." And, of course, "the countryside."

Amateur actor Sgt. John Sweet gives the film much of its sense of wonder, playing the simple but wise American. (One of the film's missions was to humanize G.I.s for local audiences.) Six decades later, the amateur actor returned to Canterbury for its Powell film fest. His visit is captured in a 2001 short film that is included as a DVD extra. He marvels at the town's transformation from a "quiet kind of bleak place" to a humming tourist attraction. "It was fun to be a 15-minute celebrity," the old man says of his brush with movie fame.

Sweet and Sim regard Powell as a good but difficult man. "He ruled by fear," Sweet recalls. Like "a steel spring coiled."

Sim says Powell "could be very tough on actors. ... He didn't know how they ticked." Still, she calls him "a man of immense charisma." Years later, Sim discovered her role had been written for Deborah Kerr, Powell's lost love. "It must have been very hard for him," Sim says.

Another short film looks in on "A Canterbury Tale" day in Kent, a summer tradition since 1997. Powell- Pressburger fans wander about sites used in the film, reading from the script and catching rays.

The bookends Powell added for U.S. release are included as well. They feature Kim Hunter as the G.I.'s young wife.

The DVD extras conclude with a piece of video art built around a loop of Sim as she beholds the fields of Kent, sensing its ancestral ghosts. Best experienced as a museum installation, or not at all.

Criterion's presentation of "Canterbury" looks divine, in silky black and white. Damage such as scratch lines and flashing do little to dull the effect of Erwin Hillier's landscape cinematography -- or of his powerful, noirish lighting. Allan Gray's music, a treat, sounds pretty good in the mono audio.

More Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger:

DVD review of Criterion's "A Small Black Room"

'Crazy Love' an insanely good documentary

"Crazy Love" sounds like a drag: A married lawyer falls for a younger woman, goes nuts when he's dumped and then has his ex-girfriend blinded with acid so no other man will want her. Decades later, when the creep gets out of the slammer, they meet again ... and marry.

But, as you've probably heard, this is a fascinating and surprisingly engaging documentary that's far more intent on illuminating the fun couple than exploiting them. Filmmaker Dan Klores ("The Boys of Second Street Park") rocked Sundance back in January when he showed up accompanied by his bigger-than life subjects, Burt and Linda Pugach. They're still crazy -- and still married -- after all these years. And they're pretty good company.

This is the best docu I've seen this year. The contemporary interviews, dramatic archival materials and the Greek chorus of pop songs blend together beautifully. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll get the willies.

Extras on Magnolia Home Entertainment's DVD of "Crazy Love" include a commentary from the Pugachs, some decent deleted interview clips, Burt's love letters from prison, and paintings done by the nearly blind Linda.

Let's go "Crazy": The DVD comes out Tuesday. Magnolia and this DVD blog have a pair of copies to share with readers. Just name the cranky Irish singer who has a popular love song with the same title as the film. Be the first or second to email the answer and a copy is headed your way. (No spam or nonsense, just the DVD. U.S. mail only.) Update: DVD giveaway is over, thanks for checking it out.

Halloween DVDs Part III: The final chapter

This has to be the most horrifying season ever for Halloween titles. Can't think of any other "holiday" that inspires such a deluge of targeted product. Classic horror doesn't get all that much attention during the year, so at least we're guaranteed good ghoulish stuff in September and October.

This DVD blog is blowing out the candles on the pumpkin after this roundup. Final words of advice: Don't go in the basement, never go back into the house for the damn cat, take a knife while camping and always remember: the bad guy is never, ever, truly dead. So don't be putting funny hats on him.

(Update: Check out the "7 Days of Halloween" series, with the witching season's best releases.)

Frostbitten is the first serious vampire movie to come out of Sweden. A festival favorite. The new girl in town takes up with a goth who gets weirdly friendly. "Under the cover of darkness, an entire month of wintry night sky, the hunt for blood and flesh begins." Directed by Anders Banke, (Genius, Sept. 25, $20)

Twisted Terror Collection binds together six horror films including three from three famed directors. This appears to be the start of a Warner Home Video "Twisted Terror" line. Remember the hoot of a remake of "The Hand" from Oliver Stone? Well, it's back from the grave (get a grip). Also, John Carpenter's TV movie "Someone's Watching Me" with Lauren Hutton; Wes Craven's "Deadly Friend" in which a teen nerd does the brain surgery. Also, "From Beyond the Grave," "Eyes of a Stranger" and Dr. Giggles. (Sept. 25, $50)

Hallowed Ground brings us another couple of hours with scream queen Jaimie Alexander (pictured), who was really good in Warner's made-for-DVD creep-out "Rest Stop." The plot sounds a lot like the bad-movie classic "The Devil's Rain": In 1896, a preacher crucifies a bunch of sinners. A century later, our heroine finds her purpose in life is to help resurrect the old do-gooder. (Genius, Oct. 9)

Murder Party sounds pretty sick. A gang of crazed edgy artists decides to murder a party-goer at midnight, in the name of performance art. Then someone breaks out a vial of truth serum as a party favor. Commence body count. Won an award at Slamdance and played SXSW. bloody-disgusting.com dug it. (Magnolia, Oct. 16)

Also, "Plasterhead" (Arts Alliance), "Wrong Turn 2: Dead End" (Fox), "Tobe Hooper's The Damned Thing" (Anchor Bay), "Buried Alive" (Weinstein/Genius), and the scariest of all, "The Paul Lynde Halloween Special" (S'More).

Check out the posts Halloween DVDs I and Halloween DVDs 2 for more horror movies.

DVD review: 'WR: Mysteries of the Organism'

One of the stranger DVDs to pass this way recently is "WR: Mysteries of the Organism."

The 1971 film, by Eastern European filmmaker Dusan Makavejev, was banned for 16 years in the director's homeland, the former Yugoslavia, due to its herky-jerky mix of sex, politics and comedy. The DVD comes via the Criterion Collection, which released it in a single-disc edition a few months back.

"WR" starts off as a documentary about Austrian-American psychiatrist Wilhelm Reich ("WR"), creator of the "orgone accumulator" -- a sweat-box-like contraption said to harness sexual life energy for the benefits of patients, who sat inside. The feds shut down the ailing Reich's operation, banned his books and eventually jailed him, in an act his wife called "judicial murder." Reich devotees find orgasms a good way to get the energy flowing, so we see practitioners pleasing themselves into a good froth. The docu plays it pretty straight; the content is plenty weird enough.

From there, the movie moves to Yugoslavia, for a slapstick fiction about a beautiful young Marxist who talks a lot about sex and Soviet bloc politics while her hot naked roommate gets busy with a series of lovers. The women's adventures are mixed in with footage from the 1946 drama "Pitsi," about Stalin.

Meanwhile in Manhattan, a member of the Fugs runs around with a toy automatic weapon, shaking up the suits and amusing the cops (imagine). In a porn magazine office, a female plaster-caster makes a permanent record of a subject's cock in a long take that Makavejev found so good it was "uneditable."

The extras feature a couple of interviews with Makavejev, who does a pretty good job of explaining the film and its contexts in that rocky era. One funny clip shows the BBC's attempts to clean up the quite-explicit film for broadcast. The commentary is read aloud from a 1999 book on the film.

The movie isn't for most people, obviously, but those in tune with Lennon and Marx (John and Groucho) should call "WR" for a good time.

Makavejev's sex-drenched Sweet Movie also is available from Criterion.

Visit my hand-picked titles at this DVD blog's Criterion Store.

The men who loved the movies

The deaths of Ingmar Bergman and Michael Antonioni continue to inspire tributes and meditations. Sunday's New York Times delivered an extraordinary pair of remembrances: from Woody Allen and Martin Scorsese. One was titled "The Man Who Asked Hard Questions" and the other "The Man Who Set Film Free."

Allen, of course, was the go-to filmmaker for quotes on Bergman's death, based on Allen's many references to his hero's works in his own movies, both light and dark. Here's Allen on how he reacted to the press:

Because I sang (Bergman's) praises so enthusiastically over the decades, when he died many newspapers and magazines called me for comments or interviews. As if I had anything of real value to add to the grim news besides once again simply extolling his greatness. How had he influenced me, they asked? He couldn’t have influenced me, I said, he was a genius and I am not a genius and genius cannot be learned or its magic passed on.

Scorsese is a tireless all-purpose fan of great moviemaking, eager to refocus the spotlight on less-famous directors. In the piece, he explains his attraction to the films of the Italian master.

The people Antonioni was dealing with ... were about as foreign to my own life as it was possible to be. But in the end that seemed unimportant. I was mesmerized by “L’Avventura” and by Antonioni’s subsequent films, and it was the fact that they were unresolved in any conventional sense that kept drawing me back. They posed mysteries — or rather the mystery, of who we are, what we are, to each other, to ourselves, to time. You could say that Antonioni was looking directly at the mysteries of the soul.

They're both terrific, well-written articles.

Buscemi's top 10 Criterion DVDs

We all can agree that the actor-director Steve Buscemi is a pretty cool guy, right? Hands. OK, most of us agree he's a cool guy.

Anyway, the director of "Interview," which opened this weekend in New York and Los Angeles, posted a list of his top 10 Criterion Collection titles on the label's web site:

• Billy Liar
• Brute Force
• The Honeymoon Killers
• Man Bites Dog
• My Own Private Idaho
• Salesman
• Short Cuts
• Symbiopsychotaxiplasm
• The Vanishing
• A Woman Under the Influence

Buscemi also tells Criterion why he picked these 10 DVDs. I haven't seen a couple of them, but I'm happy to see my favorite twisted Dutch films in there: "The Vanishing" (1988) and "Man Bites Dog." Here's Buscemi's take on that Dutch "Dog":

"I think I saw it at the Toronto Film Festival with Quentin Tarantino. It's a hilariously dark, fake documentary about a serial killer and his concerned friends and family. It's not for everybody, but it genuinely shocked me while I laughed my ass off."

And now a word from your host. I actually got to pick 54 of my favorite Criterion titles when I set up an Amazon store for the label's product a few weeks back. This is what they call advertorial: I'd like to sell a couple of these great titles, of course, but like in all decent DVD stores browsing is definitely encouraged. There are some A-list Criterion titles not represented, simply because I haven't seen them yet. Like the new "Seven Samurai." So here are my 54 favorite Criterion Collection DVDs.