* 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.
“The Snow Woman” * (1968, Radiance Films) A master woodworker and his apprentice fall afoul of the Snow Woman (Shiho Fujimura), a beautiful but vengeful creature who kills those she encounters on snow-swept nights. She dispatches the older man but spares the apprentice, noting his innocence; he later meets and falls for a woman (also Fujimura) whose mysterious and alluring presence makes her a target of a brutal bailiff. Gorgeous and (appropriately) haunting Japanese ghost story, based on a story by author Lafcadio Hearn that was previously adapted for 1964’s “Kwaidan.” Director Tokuzo Tanaka creates eerie landscapes for the Snow Woman’s appearances, but also emphasizes the tragic side of the story; the central thesis, it seems, is that while vengeance is a quality shared by the human and spirit worlds, love and compassion are reserved solely for the former. Radiance’s all-region Blu-ray – part of its”Daiei Gothic” set, which contains three supernatural films from the venerable studio – preserves Tanaka’s otherworldly compositions and adds a featurette on Hearn and an observant discussion of the film with director Masayuki Ochiai (“Parasite Eve”).
“Frogs” (1972, Kino Lorber) * Photographer Sam Elliott (sans his traditional cookie duster), covering the impact of industrialization on Florida’s Everglades, is pulled into the orbit of Mean Old May Ray Milland when his son (Adam Roarke) swamps Elliott’s canoe with a speedboat. Milland, whose fortune was built on spoiling nature, and his family are soon put paid by the swamp’s various denizens, who have tired of his Trumpian shenanigans. Entertaining nature-gone-amuck thriller from American International Pictures benefits from a capable cast (including Joan Van Ark and Judy Pace) and gorgeous photography, which is polished by Kino’s new Special Edition Blu-ray; flirtation with ecological and social issues add some textual heft and Les Baxter’s electronic score (with effects by Joe Sidone) is creepy/groovy, but the chief selling point is watching Milland and family meet their demises at the hands of snakes, tarantulas, turtles, and sentient moss. Kino’s Special Edition disc includes lively commentary by historians David Del Valle and Dan Marino, an interview with Van Ark, and promotional material (trailers, TV and radio spots) that includes a preview with footage not seen in the film itself.
“The Bat” * (1926, Undercrank Productions) A remote country estate and its guests and servants come under siege by the homicidal master criminal known as the Bat, who seeks a missing fortune and the thief who retrieved it before him. Thoroughly entertaining mystery-horror-comedy, adapted from the popular (and frequently filmed) play of the same name, is distinguished by Roland West’s athletic direction and remarkable cinematography and art direction by Arthur Edeson and William Cameron Menzies, respectively. Though the tone is light, their collaborative effort, along with director Paul Leni and DP Gilbert Warrenton’s work on “The Cat and the Canary” (see below) helped to establish the visual and narrative foundation for the next century of horror films, from supernatural thrillers to gialli: Expressionistic shadowplay and set design, Old Dark Houses, masked madmen, clutching hands, and so on. Undercrank Productions’ Blu-ray offers what is undoubtedly the best presentation of “The Bat,” a stellar 2K restoration of 35mm film elements by the UCLA Film & Television Archive made even more enjoyable by an evocative original score by Undercrank chief Ben Model. A featurette on West’s life and career, which was upended by scandal, and the 1926 two-reeler “A Fraternity Mix-Up,” which pits girls’ school headmistress Gale Henry against a gorilla.
“Noroi: The Curse” * (2005, Arrow Video) Masafumi Kobayashi (Jin Muraki) produces documentaries on the paranormal until he goes missing after a fire that claims his wife’s life, and “Noroi” is his final project. The footage – taken from Kobayashi’s investigations into reports of strange noises, a vanished psychic, and a mass suicide – appears unrelated, but as both researcher and viewer discover, seem to orbit around stories about a lost village and a summoned demon that seems to be closing in Kobayashi and his motley crew of ghost hunters (including actress Marika Matsumoto, who plays herself). Director/co-writer Koji Shiraisha’s later inning entry into the found footage horror subgenre (which, by 2005, was on the wane) transcends many of its pitfalls – shaky camerawork obscuring the half-seen fiend, dumb protagonists who keep filming as they stare down their own demises – and delivers a creepy and complex story that leans heavily on a mundane visual aesthetic and measured pace to draw you in before unleashing a tidal wave of scares (some of which are paralyzing) in its final third with as much impact as possible. Arrow’s Blu-ray – part of its “J-Horror Rising” set, which compiles seven lesser-known but equally chilling Japanese horror films from the “J-Horror” boom of the late ’90s and early 2000s – includes interviews with Shiraishi and producer Taka Ichise (“Ju-On”/”The Grudge”), commentary by historian Julian Singleton, two new video essays, deleted scenes, a pair of faux TV reports, and promotional material.
“The Cat and the Canary” * (1928, Eureka Entertainment) The family of the late millionaire Cyrus West arrive at his New York mansion for the reading of a newly discovered will bestows his sizable fortune on the most distant relative, but with one catch: the recipient must be first ruled sane, which proves a challenge by the presence of an escaped maniac known as the Cat. More silent horror-comedy, and more foundational horror, as German director Paul Leni (“Waxworks“) wraps John Willard’s breezy play in shrouds of Gothic shadows and bravura camerawork. Again, cinematography and set design are key components, with Gilbert Warrenton’s ghostly, gliding camera and Charles D. Hall’s hallucinatory set design contributing greatly to the sense of unease percolating beneath the humor; their efforts would, again, be reflected in decades of horror films set in Old Dark Houses stalked by masked malfeasants, from the excellent 1939 remake with Bob Hope to “The Haunting,” “Suspiria,” and on and on. Eureka’s Blu-ray presents a spotless 4K restoration from negatives supplied by the Museum of Modern Art that reproduces the original vibrant color tint; two commentaries featuring pairs of horror film experts – Kim Newman and Stephen Jones and Kevin Lyons and Jonathan Rigby – are troves of information on the film, its cast, and crew, while a video essay discusses the Old Dark House genre and the film’s history and many remakes. Interviews with critics Phuong Le and Pamela Hutchison add additional perspective, as do liner note essays by Imogen Sarah Smith, Craig Ian Mann and Richard Combs. A pair of audio-only re-enactments of scenes from Willard’s play rounds out this terrific disc.
“Cathy’s Curse” * (1977, Severin Films) The problems begin when George (Alan Scarfe) moves his family into his childhood home, from which his father and sister fled years before and died in a fiery car wreck. There, daughter Cathy (Randi Allen) discovers an astonishingly ugly rag doll, which appears to not only grant her an array of psychic powers but also has a malevolent hold over her. Cathy soon murders her way through the supporting cast – nanny Mary goes out a window, nasty handyman Paul gets his just desserts, and even Sneakers the dog meets a bad end – while George remains blissfully out to lunch, leaving wife Vivian (Beverly Murray, an incredible over-actor) as her daughter’s unlikely savior. Thoroughly enjoyable Canadian exploitation riff on “The Exorcist,” “Omen,” and “Carrie” has baffled and entertained generations of viewers with a rug dealer showroom’s worth of loose threads, vanishing pot points, and moments of accidental surrealism, as well as the usual low-budget struggles in the performances, direction, music, etc. Severin’s two-disc 4K Blu-ray presentation answers a few questions with a longer Director’s Cut that at least gives context to some basic questions (like why George brought his family to this nightmarish house) but doesn’t subtract from “Cathy’s” weirdo charms; the incomprehensible U.S. theatrical cut is also included, as are interviews with director Eddy Matalon, Scarfe, Randi Allen and her mom (who served as costume designer on the film), as well as amusing commentary by writer Brian Collins and Simon Barrett (“You’re Next,” “Godzilla x Kong”) and footage from an introduction to a screening at the American Cinematheque.
