* indicates that this title is also available to rent, stream, or purchase on various platforms. Please note that streaming options may differ from these home video presentations in terms of visuals, supplemental features, etc.
“High Crime” * (1973, Blue Underground) With the help of retired gangster Fernando Rey, police commissioner Franco Nero sets out to rid his home town of Genoa, Italy of drug dealers, but finds that his two-fisted approach doesn’t sit well with his superior (James Whitmore) or the dealers, who respond to his aggression with even greater violence. One of the better action-fueled crime films from Italy (and Spain) to emerge during the poliziotteschi boom of the early ’70s, “High Crime” benefits from a sure and skillful hand from director Enzo Castellari (the original “Inglorious Bastards”), whose talent for car chases and shoot-outs matches American efforts of the period, and a blond Nero, whose cop knows that his rampaging approach will come to no good, but appears unable or unwilling to change. Blue Underground’s three-disc set offers 4K and Blu-ray presentations, both remastered and uncut (the film’s final minutes are missing in some previous home releases), as well as three commentary tracks (Castellari with his son and BU head Bill Lustig, Nero with action expert Mike Malloy and Lustig, and historians Troy Howarth, Nathaniel Thompson, and Eugenio Ercolani), all of which are rich in production detail and anecdotes. Featurettes on the film with Castellari, Nero, composers Guido and Maurizio De Angelis, and members of the crew offer additional perspective, while Malloy’s video essay links “Crime” to “The French Connection” and French noir. A third disc contains the De Angelis’s complete and funky score.
“The Man Who Finally Died” * (1963, Severin Films) Black-and-white British thriller with Stanley Baker as a Londoner in search of his father, a former German soldier, whose alive-or-dead status is the subject of much subterfuge involving his friend (Peter Cushing), second wife (Mai Zetterling), an insurance agent (Niall McGinnis), and the local inspector (Eric Portman). The search for the truth strays into conspiratorial waters, to which Baker responds with his usual brusqueness rather than bafflement; the payoff, which involves Russian agents and a trainbound pursuit, is capably handled by director Quentin Lawrence, but the film’s real draw is the interaction between the cast of pros, of which Cushing’s polite doctor with a secret is the most memorable. Featured as part of Severin’s “Cushing Curiosities” set, “Man” boasts a new 2K scan and commentary by Kim Newman and Barry Forshaw, who discuss the film’s origins (a TV serial), Baker’s long run of crime films, and Cushing’s inherent ability to steal scenes.
“Tchao Pantin” (1983, Radiance Films) An unlikely friendship between glum ex-cop turned gas station attendant Coluche and low-level drug dealer Richard Anconina is upended when the latter’s boss kills him over misappropriated gains. The younger man’s death stirs Coluche out of his malaise and into avenger mode with the help of Anconina’s punk girlfriend (Agnes Sorel). Gritty neo-noir from director Claude Berri – also known as “So Long, Stooge” – was a huge hit in its native France but remains largely unknown elsewhere; Radiance’s Limited Edition Blu-ray corrects that problem for thriller fans, who should appreciate the film’s mix of melancholy and raw violence, as well as the performance by Coluche, a beloved comic performer (who resembles a portly Joe Strummer) who is at once an unlikely and totally believable action hero (punk-minded viewers will also note an appearance by the Horde and frontman Gogol Premier). The Radiance disc includes a lengthy featurette in which Berri, Sorel, and other members of the cast and crew discuss the film’s production, which by all accounts was both arduous and riotous; historian Michael Abecassis adds perspective on “Pantin’s” enduring popularity.
“Prison Walls: Abashiri Prision 1-III” (1965, Eureka Films) First three entries in Toei Films’ 17-picture (!) cycle of crime dramas anchored around ex-gangster Ken Takakura’s attempts to steer clear of trouble and stay out of the titular (and real) Japanese prison. Director Teruo Ishii, best known for a string of perversely odd horror and adults-only titles, shows not only restraint but a talent for both suspense and black-and-white imagery in the first film, which follows Takakura’s flight from Abashiri while chained, a la “The Defiant Ones,” to lifer Koji Nanbara. The second film (and first in color) is more lightweight and concerns Takakura’s post-prison life and embroilment in a strange jewelry heist; “Abashiri Prison: Saga of Homesickness” returns to the gritty tone of the first film and though again set outside prison, puts Takakura back in hot water as the fulcrum between his old gang and a more violent outfit. Though perhaps not as hot-blooded as other yakuza films (like the Battles Without Honor or Humanity” series), “Abashiri” offers a tough but fair hero in Takakura (who also sings the theme song), plenty of style, and dramatic tension in the familiar pull between honoring a dangerous code and personal integrity. Eureka’s two-disc set has hi-def transfers, commentary for each film (from Tom Mes and Chris Poggiali, among others), and video essays by Jasper Sharp and Tony Rayns.
“The Long Arm of the Law Parts I & II” (1984/1987, 88 Films) Bad to Worse Dept.: a quintet of former Red Army soldiers sneak into Hong Kong, hoping that a weekend smash-and-grab operation at a jewelry store will improve their miserable lives. The plan goes awry and the group is stranded in Hong Kong, where misfortune turns to disaster and an eventual reckoning with both Triad gangsters and the police inside Kowloon’s infamous Walled City. Downbeat, noir-steeped crime thriller from former TV director Johnny Mak (with immeasurable help from producer and fight choreographer Sammo Hung and a script by cop-turned-actor Philip Chan) is considered a forerunner of the “heroic bloodshed” films released by John Woo and Ringo Lam in the late ’80s and early ’90s (“A Better Tomorrow,” “City on Fire”) and sets the template for their jaw-dropping violence, though the melodramatic flourishes in those films are largely missing here; the gang in “Long Arm” falls apart through extended exposure to the grim Hong Kong underworld scene and their own thwarted ambitions, which makes the brutal finale the only fitting conclusion for their transgressions. 88 Films’ Blu-ray includes the first of three sequels, a relatively minor and unrelated effort invigorated by a cast led by Elvis Tsui; a 2K scan of the theatrical release and a shorter international cut, new interviews with Mak’s brother, producer Michael Mak, as well as Philip Chan, “Law II” star Ben Lam, and stuntman Stephen Chan, are also included, along with commentary on “Law I” with Frank Djeng and various trailers.
