Late summer is all about reflection over at The Criterion Collection, as the library is spending August offering up a handful of unsung classics and new look at some longtime favorites.
Michael Curitz’s “The Breaking Point,” a mostly overlooked Hemingway adaptation, starring John Garfield and Patricia Neal, will be available on Blu-ray for the first time, while Sacha Guitry’s “La poison” arrives on home video for the first time ever. Elsewhere, Mike Leigh’s revelatory “Meantime” is getting a 2K restoration, all the better to enjoy the early work of Tim Roth and Gary Oldman. That’s not all for Oldman fans, however, as Alex Cox’s “Sid & Nancy” hits the collection with a brand new 4K digital restoration. Finally, Walter Matthau stars in the charming comedy “Hopscotch,” also available on Blu-ray in a 2K digital restoration.
Below is the complete list of August additions, with descriptions provided by Criterion.
Michael Curitz’s “The Breaking Point,” a mostly overlooked Hemingway adaptation, starring John Garfield and Patricia Neal, will be available on Blu-ray for the first time, while Sacha Guitry’s “La poison” arrives on home video for the first time ever. Elsewhere, Mike Leigh’s revelatory “Meantime” is getting a 2K restoration, all the better to enjoy the early work of Tim Roth and Gary Oldman. That’s not all for Oldman fans, however, as Alex Cox’s “Sid & Nancy” hits the collection with a brand new 4K digital restoration. Finally, Walter Matthau stars in the charming comedy “Hopscotch,” also available on Blu-ray in a 2K digital restoration.
Below is the complete list of August additions, with descriptions provided by Criterion.
- 5/16/2017
- by Kate Erbland
- Indiewire
This film was originally reviewed at the Virginia Festival of American Film on Oct. 31. It opens today in Los Angeles at the NuWilshire.
''Easy Rider'' with training wheels sums up ''Roadside Prophets, '' a neo-'60s road movie. This Fine Line vehicle will undoubtedly win some appeal among festheads but is unlikely to make any inroads past that limited circuit.
But, man, this trip backward in philosophical time is not much of a cinematic trip for anyone. Brainy counterculturalists who get a high out of the twisted turns and slants that picaresque odysseys can invoke about America will be disappointed by the generally dimwitted and puerile episodes of this tripped-up trip.
Although there are numerous differences here from ''Easy Rider, '' suffice it to say, they're filmic fellow travelers. This time out Captain American is Joe (John Doe of X fame), a blue-collar biker from San Pedro, Calif., who heads out on the highway to bury the ashes of a chump from the plant with whom he shared a brewski at Shipwreck Joey's strip joint where the dimbulb expostulated on the greatness of the El Dorado bar in Nevada before he got electrocuted by a video game.
While it's kind of perversely poetic and wonderful to bury a guy in a Las Vegas gin joint, Joe's not actually much of a poet, or a rebel, or much of anything else. In writer-director Abbe Wool's narrative, he's merely a sartorial figure: a blue-collar Marlboro man (he smokes the hard pack) with a pair of big, non-reflective shades. Other than his fashion statement, he doesn't have much to express or even much of an opinion on anything.
Wool attempts to address this personality and philosophical deficiency with the creation of a comic sidekick character. On this trek, it's Sam (Adam Horovitz), a shrill dweeb who has a thing for Motel 9s and sports a comic helmet (not a football helmet, though, like ''Easy Rider'').
On their way to El Dorado they encounter an array of desert-life loners who spout a high stream of nonsense, some amusing. Unfortunately, these roadside prophets' pronouncements pale in complexity compared with, say, Burma Shave signs.
Wool shows a flair for sardonic dialogue and a talent for creating surreal narrative synapses.
Unfortunately, ''Prophets'' is generally a heap of '60s spare parts welded onto a loose story frame, alternately distinguished and diminished by the cliches of the genre: the revving of the engines, the roaring of the rock music and then the winding out to the cool-on-the-cycle shots of Marlboro Joe backdropped by the red mountain majestics of the Southwest.
(c) The Hollywood Reporter...
''Easy Rider'' with training wheels sums up ''Roadside Prophets, '' a neo-'60s road movie. This Fine Line vehicle will undoubtedly win some appeal among festheads but is unlikely to make any inroads past that limited circuit.
But, man, this trip backward in philosophical time is not much of a cinematic trip for anyone. Brainy counterculturalists who get a high out of the twisted turns and slants that picaresque odysseys can invoke about America will be disappointed by the generally dimwitted and puerile episodes of this tripped-up trip.
Although there are numerous differences here from ''Easy Rider, '' suffice it to say, they're filmic fellow travelers. This time out Captain American is Joe (John Doe of X fame), a blue-collar biker from San Pedro, Calif., who heads out on the highway to bury the ashes of a chump from the plant with whom he shared a brewski at Shipwreck Joey's strip joint where the dimbulb expostulated on the greatness of the El Dorado bar in Nevada before he got electrocuted by a video game.
While it's kind of perversely poetic and wonderful to bury a guy in a Las Vegas gin joint, Joe's not actually much of a poet, or a rebel, or much of anything else. In writer-director Abbe Wool's narrative, he's merely a sartorial figure: a blue-collar Marlboro man (he smokes the hard pack) with a pair of big, non-reflective shades. Other than his fashion statement, he doesn't have much to express or even much of an opinion on anything.
Wool attempts to address this personality and philosophical deficiency with the creation of a comic sidekick character. On this trek, it's Sam (Adam Horovitz), a shrill dweeb who has a thing for Motel 9s and sports a comic helmet (not a football helmet, though, like ''Easy Rider'').
On their way to El Dorado they encounter an array of desert-life loners who spout a high stream of nonsense, some amusing. Unfortunately, these roadside prophets' pronouncements pale in complexity compared with, say, Burma Shave signs.
Wool shows a flair for sardonic dialogue and a talent for creating surreal narrative synapses.
Unfortunately, ''Prophets'' is generally a heap of '60s spare parts welded onto a loose story frame, alternately distinguished and diminished by the cliches of the genre: the revving of the engines, the roaring of the rock music and then the winding out to the cool-on-the-cycle shots of Marlboro Joe backdropped by the red mountain majestics of the Southwest.
(c) The Hollywood Reporter...
CHARLOTTESVILLE, Va. -- ''Easy Rider'' with training wheels sums up ''Roadside Prophets, '' a neo-'60s, road movie that had its world premiere here at the Virginia Festival of American Film. This Fine Line vehicle will undoubtedly win some appeal among festheads but is unlikely to made any inroads past that limited circuit.
Former flower children who have not done much blossoming in subsequent years may groove on its ''cool, man'' vibes and the blessedness, man, of toking on a communal pipe and blissing out on bad folk rock which may be a groovy thing, man, especially, man, if it helps a lot of the paisley people forget they're 40-ish, man.
But, man, this trip backward in philosphical time is not much of a cinematic trip for anyone. Brainy counterculturalists who get a high out of the twisted turns and slants that picaresque odysseys can invoke about America will be disappointed by the generally dimwitted and puerile episodes of this tripped-up trip.
Although there are numerous minor differences here from ''Easy Rider, '' suffice it to say, they're filmic fellow travelers. This time our Captain America is Joe (John Doe), a blue-collar biker from San Pedro, Calif., who heads out on the highway to bury the ashes of a chump from the plant with whom he shared a brewski at Shipwreck Joey's strip joint where the dimbulb expostulated on the greatness of the El Dorado bar in Nevada before he got electrocuted by a video game.
While it's kind of perversely poetic and wonderful to bury a guy in a Las Vegas gin joint, Joe's not actually much of a poet, or a rebel, or much of anything else. In writer-director Abbe Wool's narrative, he's merely a sartorial figure: a blue-collar Marlboro man (he smokes the hard pack) with a pair of big, non-reflective shades. Other than his fashion statement, he doesn't have much to express or even much of an opinion on anything.
On-the-road stories are fueled by their lead character's personality, the slant they give to their travels. Through their idiosyncratic eyes, the viewer can get a new take on things. But other than an aversion to the cycle helmet law, Joe's outlook doesn't go much beyond appreciation for a ''couple brews, a warm bed and some TV.''
Wool attempts to address this personality and philosophical deficiency by the creation of a comic sidekick character. On this trek, it's Sam (Adam Horovitz), a shrill dweeb who has a thing for Motel 6s and sports a comic helmet (not a football helmet, though, like ''Easy Rider'').
On their way to El Dorado they encounter an array of desert-life loners, who spout a high stream of nonsense, some amusing. Unfortunately, these roadside prophets' pronoucements pale in complexity compared with, say, Burma Shave signs.
They are played by such '60s types as Timothy Leary, Arlo Guthrie and David Carradine, playing caricatures of themselves.
Wool shows a flair for sardonic dialogue and a talent for creating surreal narrative synapses.
Unfortunately, ''Prophets'' is generally a heap of '60s spare parts welded onto a loose story frame, alternately distinguished and diminished by the cliches of the genre: the revving of the engines, the roaring of the rock music and then the winding out to the cool-on-the-cycle shots of Marlboro Joe backdropped by the red mountain majesties of the Southwest.
ROADSIDE PROPHETS
Fine Line
Producers Peter McCarthy, David Swinson
Screenwriter-director Abbe Wool
Director of photography Tom Richmond
Production designer J. Rae Fox
Costume designer Prudence Moriaty
Casting director Vickie Thomas
Color/Stereo
Cast:
Joe Mosely John Doe
Sam Adam Horovitz
Othello David Carradine
Salvadore Timothy Leary
Harvey Arlo Guthrie
Sheriff Quentin Durango Barton Heyman
Labia Mirage Jennifer Balgobin
Casper John Cusack
Running time -- 104 minutes
MPAA Rating: R
(c) The Hollywood Reporter...
Former flower children who have not done much blossoming in subsequent years may groove on its ''cool, man'' vibes and the blessedness, man, of toking on a communal pipe and blissing out on bad folk rock which may be a groovy thing, man, especially, man, if it helps a lot of the paisley people forget they're 40-ish, man.
But, man, this trip backward in philosphical time is not much of a cinematic trip for anyone. Brainy counterculturalists who get a high out of the twisted turns and slants that picaresque odysseys can invoke about America will be disappointed by the generally dimwitted and puerile episodes of this tripped-up trip.
Although there are numerous minor differences here from ''Easy Rider, '' suffice it to say, they're filmic fellow travelers. This time our Captain America is Joe (John Doe), a blue-collar biker from San Pedro, Calif., who heads out on the highway to bury the ashes of a chump from the plant with whom he shared a brewski at Shipwreck Joey's strip joint where the dimbulb expostulated on the greatness of the El Dorado bar in Nevada before he got electrocuted by a video game.
While it's kind of perversely poetic and wonderful to bury a guy in a Las Vegas gin joint, Joe's not actually much of a poet, or a rebel, or much of anything else. In writer-director Abbe Wool's narrative, he's merely a sartorial figure: a blue-collar Marlboro man (he smokes the hard pack) with a pair of big, non-reflective shades. Other than his fashion statement, he doesn't have much to express or even much of an opinion on anything.
On-the-road stories are fueled by their lead character's personality, the slant they give to their travels. Through their idiosyncratic eyes, the viewer can get a new take on things. But other than an aversion to the cycle helmet law, Joe's outlook doesn't go much beyond appreciation for a ''couple brews, a warm bed and some TV.''
Wool attempts to address this personality and philosophical deficiency by the creation of a comic sidekick character. On this trek, it's Sam (Adam Horovitz), a shrill dweeb who has a thing for Motel 6s and sports a comic helmet (not a football helmet, though, like ''Easy Rider'').
On their way to El Dorado they encounter an array of desert-life loners, who spout a high stream of nonsense, some amusing. Unfortunately, these roadside prophets' pronoucements pale in complexity compared with, say, Burma Shave signs.
They are played by such '60s types as Timothy Leary, Arlo Guthrie and David Carradine, playing caricatures of themselves.
Wool shows a flair for sardonic dialogue and a talent for creating surreal narrative synapses.
Unfortunately, ''Prophets'' is generally a heap of '60s spare parts welded onto a loose story frame, alternately distinguished and diminished by the cliches of the genre: the revving of the engines, the roaring of the rock music and then the winding out to the cool-on-the-cycle shots of Marlboro Joe backdropped by the red mountain majesties of the Southwest.
ROADSIDE PROPHETS
Fine Line
Producers Peter McCarthy, David Swinson
Screenwriter-director Abbe Wool
Director of photography Tom Richmond
Production designer J. Rae Fox
Costume designer Prudence Moriaty
Casting director Vickie Thomas
Color/Stereo
Cast:
Joe Mosely John Doe
Sam Adam Horovitz
Othello David Carradine
Salvadore Timothy Leary
Harvey Arlo Guthrie
Sheriff Quentin Durango Barton Heyman
Labia Mirage Jennifer Balgobin
Casper John Cusack
Running time -- 104 minutes
MPAA Rating: R
(c) The Hollywood Reporter...
- 10/31/1991
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
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