Blu-ray Review: Criterion's Jubal (1956) and 3:10 to Yuma (1957)

by Tony Dayoub

Criterion's release of two Delmer Daves westerns, both sporting crisp 4K digital transfers if a bit lean on the frills, offer two of the finest catalogue Blu-rays of 2013 thus far. Taken together, both showcase the true range of their underrated star, Glenn Ford. The better known of the two is 3:10 to Yuma. The first screen adaptation of an Elmore Leonard story, it's about what you'd expect from the author, by turns brutal and quite funny, and it features Ford as a rather generously spirited outlaw. But more on that one later. Instead, can we talk about the underappreciated Jubal?

Omega Man

A tough guy’s race to the bottom in the apocalyptic noir Kiss Me Deadly

by Tony Dayoub

Has there ever been a cast of characters more deserving of the nihilistic ending that awaits them than that of Robert Aldrich’s 1955 film noir, Kiss Me Deadly? Revisiting the film on the Criterion Collection’s upcoming Blu-ray (out on June 21) reminded me that, with the exception of a handful of characters I can think of, most of the movie’s players (down to those in the smallest bit parts) are contemptible by design. Kiss Me Deadly was released at the very end of the classic noir period when the many permutations of the form were just about exhausted, and so it is entirely plausible that Aldrich, a relatively new movie director with little more than a couple of Westerns under his belt (starring the often domineering Burt Lancaster), saw an opportunity to shine by pushing the darkness in these odd personages, truly making the movie black as pitch. Deadly’s antihero (emphasis on anti-), brutish private dick Mike Hammer, epitomizes this approach. Already well-known to the public, Hammer was the star of a series of popular paperbacks written by Mickey Spillane. But when Aldrich and screenwriter A.I. Bezzerides (On Dangerous Ground) got hold of Spillane’s detective, they chewed up the gnarly investigator and spit out a twisted grump, amping up Hammer’s already prominent tendencies toward misogynism, narcissism, and sadism to unusually large proportions for an ostensible hero in a mainstream movie of any genre, even the morally complex film noir...

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Blu-ray Review: Kansas City Confidential (1952)

by Tony Dayoub

And now, for an almost ran... I almost contemplated running a review of the wickedly clever Kansas City Confidential, out on Blu-ray this week, for the Film Noir Preservation Blogathon (see my previous post), sort of "kill two birds with one stone" kind of thinking since I was obligated to write about a review copy anyway. When I suggested it to an editor of mine at another publication—before having watched it for myself, mind you—the guy almost strung me up by my you-can-guess-what. And rightfully so. The quality of this Blu-ray issue from a company called Film Chest is highly questionable, despite being labelled an "Essential" disc by another respected publication I've written for (which also gets it wrong in stating it's a Region 1 disc; it's actually Region 0). True, the film itself is unquestionably essential. Not only is it a perfectly executed example of the web-of-deception-closing-in-on-itself trope so often found in the best films noir; it is an outstanding example of director Phil Karlson's brutal stylings; it's a fine showcase for thuggish character actors like Neville Brand (Birdman of Alcatraz), Jack Elam (Once Upon a Time in the West) and Lee Van Cleef (The Good, the Bad and the Ugly); and it has historical interest due to its obvious influence on Quentin Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs (1992).