ON BLU-RAY / FILMSTRUCK
The Hero / An Actor’s Revenge: As of late, Criterion has been pairing their new Blu-ray releases into ready-made double bills (kind of like the “Friday Night Double Features” they put up on FilmStruck) – last month saw the release of two early G.W. Pabst talkies, last week gave us the art-horror classics Night of the Living Dead and The Silence of the Lambs, and now we have two films from different countries, in very different styles, about actors. In Satyajit Ray’s The Hero, a giant movie star takes a lengthy train ride to receive an award, and a series of encounters on that ride – of varying degrees of embarrassment and frustration – cause him to sort through his memories, feelings, fears, and regrets. Strikingly photographed and vividly imagined, it’s one of those baton-passing movies, where you can see both its influences (Wild Strawberries, for example) and the movies it influenced (from Stardust Memories to The Darjeeling Limited). Kon Ichikawa’s An Actor’s Revenge concerns a kabuki actor who sets out to take down the family responsible for the deaths of his parents. The subject matter being what it is, the picture is appropriately theatrical – particularly in the stylish lighting effects, which make masterful use of dimming, pools, light, and dark – with a wild sense of narrative propulsion and a wicked, weird sense of humor, capped off, in its closing scenes, by a sense of genuine (and surprising) sentimentality. (The Hero and An Actor’s Revenge are also both on FilmStruck.) (Both discs include new and archival interviews.)
ON BLU-RAY
The Incident: This 1967 drama from director Larry Peerce – new on Blu from Twilight Time – predated the big cycle of New-York-as-urban-hellscape movies in the 1970s, functioning as a strange cross between 12 Angry Men and The Taking of Pelham 123, as two thrill-seeking young punks (newcomers Tony Mustante and, yep, Martin Sheen) terrorize a subway car full of uptight New Yorkers late one Sunday night. Their methods are meticulous and merciless, but what’s fascinating about the narrative is how the passengers end up pushing each other into harm’s way – turning on each other, even those they know and ostensibly love, when pressed. There’s a ‘60s Method intensity to not only the acting, but the shooting and cutting, pressing in on the tensions that are inflamed until they explode. It’s not entirely believable and more than a little overblown (and don’t even get me started on the infrequency of the train’s stops), but it gets under your skin. (Includes audio commentary, trailer, and isolated music/effects track.)