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Spider-Man (2002)
Directed by Sam Raimi
The story of the arduous path that Spider-Man took from comic book icon to box-office smash is a Hollywood legend. Several studio regimes, numerous script drafts, a couple of lawsuits and 18 years later, director Sam Raimi was finally able to film the tale of Peter Parker (Toby Maguire), a nerdish high-schooler who is transformed into a web-slinging, wall-crawling superhero after being bitten by a radioactive spider. In the main commentary track, producer Laura Ziskin opines that it was probably a blessing that it took so long for this spider to hatch as the CGI technology necessary to bring the character fully to life had only been recently created. Also on the commentary track are actress Kirsten Dunst (MJ), co-producer Grant Curtis and Raimi. Raimi spends a good part of his commentary deflecting credit onto his collaborators both on-screen and behind the scenes, such as the yeoman's work done by the second unit directors and the contributions of the actors to their characters. Raimi also heaps praise on the uncredited script polish done by writer Alvin Sargent, but reveals a integral part of the director's process when he discusses the on-set work that went into making an integral scene between Peter Parker and MJ work. "Toby and I had to keep cutting down the dialogue to find the minimum that he could say. Although David Koepp did a great job writing it and Alvin Sargent did a beautiful job polishing it, when we got there we found that less had to be said to make it work."
The two-disc set includes another commentary by special effects designer John Dykstra and the visual effects crew, subtitled "pop-up" production notes and historical facts, games, gag reels, music videos and almost enough behind-the-scenes goodies to keep the most ardent web-head sated until the release of Spider-Man 2 in 2004.
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Star Trek: The Next Generation: Season 6 (1992-1993)
Various directors (click image for details)
They've being going where no man or woman or Klingon or android have gone before for five seasons thus far, but Season 6 of this acclaimed space opera proved that there were still plenty of great stories to tell. The next-to-final season of the show is filled with remembrances of things past as old enemies (Romulans, Cardassians, Borg), old friends, (Lt. Reg Barclay, Sir Isaac Newton, and a real-life cameo by Stephen Hawking) and some whose stance are yet to be determined like "Q," with arguably the highlight of the season being the appearance of classic Trek cast member James Doohan reprising his role as "Scotty" in the episode "Relics." Still there were deeper themes explored like the horror of POW torture ("Chain of Command, Part 2"), the disastrous results of even good-intentioned interference with another culture ("Descent, Part 1") and a more serious-toned, sci-fi twisted homage to Capra's It's a Wonderful Life ("Tapestry").
The seven-disc set includes Mission Overview (cast and crew discussions about the production of Season 6), Selected Crew Analysis, Year Six, examines how the characters in Season 6 have evolved throughout the series; Departmental Briefing, Year Six, a behind-the-scenes look at the production of the key episodes with in depth interviews with production crew; and Bold New Directions where cast members Patrick Stewart ("A Fistful of Datas") and LeVar Burton ("Second Chances") discuss their experience in the director's chair.
Watching our stalwarts, Picard, Riker, Data, Geordi, Worf, Troi and Crusher put through their paces toward the end of the line makes one almost wistful for a time machine capable of transport back to the past where we could meet them all again and go with them for the very first time. The beauty of DVD is it almost makes this possible.
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Farscape: The Complete Season One
(1999)
Various directors (click image for details)
"My name is John Crichton ... An astronaut ... A radiation wave hit and I got shot through a wormhole ... Now I'm lost in some distant part of the universe, on a ship, a living ship, full of strange alien life-forms. Help me ... Listen please, is there anybody out there who can hear me? I'm being hunted by an insane military commander ... Doing everything I can ... I'm just looking for a way home."
With those words the Sci-Fi Channel launched one of the most audacious space operas ever attempted. The mythos of Farscape is filled with so many plot twists, subtle character developments, inventive storylines and sheer quirkiness that it begged to be stuffed on a DVD where viewers can delight in the adventures of a lone human lost in the galaxy with his escaped convict/hero extraterrestrial companions. The one thing that could be stated about the show is that the filmmakers were never afraid to push the envelope both visually and script-wise. The results were a sharply written, breathtakingly beautiful series that may have been too hip for the casual viewer but became a cult hit and an instant critical darling leading TV Guide to call it, "The most cinematic sci-fi series on television."
The 11-disc package also hosts extras with replete with audio tracks by the shows creators and actors. On the episode "Back and Back and Back to the Future," director Rowan Woods dissects the work alongside actor Ben Browder who plays the astronomically hapless but quick-witted, John Crichton. The commentary offers a veritable primer on all the subtle tricks and feats required to make the tricky episode work as scripted, and in the introspection of one pivotal scene Woods offers a thought that best describes the spirit of the entire series. "It's been strange, weird and sexy and ambiguous up until now, and then suddenly in this scene it hits a bigger, more serious note. It's great how Farscape's tone can do a big U-turn on you. You think you're in one show, and then suddenly, you're in another."
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 One of the reasons Anchor Bay Entertainment (ABE) made such an initial splash in the DVD market was the hands-on involvement of producer/director William Lustig, whose knowledge of cinema, and obscure genre titles in particular allowed the fledgling company to build an impressive catalogue. Recently, Lustig departed ABE and formed Blue Underground, which aims to trawl even more nebulous waters, luring from the depths a prize shoal of rare species. Fresh in are two forgotten works of dubious heritage, Quiet Days in Clichy (1970), Jens Jorgen Thorson' quasi-pornographic, pseudo-avant-garde docudramatic adaptation of Henry Miller's novella, and Jess Franco's colorfully weird Marquis de Sade's Justine (1968). Presented uncut, with all its dangling appendages intact, Quiet Days in Clichy is like the Austin Powers of porn movies, gaily romping in gritty black-and-white through a melange of improbable encounters. Apparently seized by the federal authorities on its release in 1970 for obscene content, the film was later declared fit for human consumption. Not many had a chance to taste it however, as the movie mysteriously disappeared from circulation.  Blue Underground's new DVD pumps some much needed Viagra into the proceedings, and it's fun watching the daft, dreary shenanigans unfold. Paris is the playground of two penniless losers Joey and Carl, whose penury doesn't prevent their snagging every available babe in town. Director Jens Jorgen Thorson pays skewed homage to Richard Lester's kinetic '60s flicks, and one of the film's undoubted wacky highlights is Country Joe McDonald's sing-along score. Telling us the narrative in his lyrics, Country Joe just keeps on pickin', oblivious to the thrashing tangle of sweaty flesh. Among the comical special features is Country Joe himself, twanging his songs anew, and a monologue from Barney Rosset, Henry Miller's publisher, on the ills of censorship. Marquis de Sade's Justine on the other hand seems positively arty, and is genuinely beautifully filmed with a cast including Klaus Kinski, Mercedes McCambridge, Akim Tamiroff and Jack Palance. Jess Franco, a director not dissimilar to Mario Bava, is quite adept at gothic drama and romance heavily laced with gratuitous nudity. Here, the ladies are as luxurious as the sumptuous color and eye-catching setups. The story of course aims to unsettle and challenge our understanding and acceptance of unusual practices. Predictably, the film was cut to shreds by its distributor for U.S. release, and Blue Underground's new DVD restores the film to its original length and form. Tim Lucas, an expert on Franco and Bava, details the production history in his liner notes, and the disc also presents recent interviews with director Franco and the producer, Harry Alan Towers.
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 Just in time for Steven Soderbergh's theatrical remake, Criterion gives us the original Solaris (1972), Andrei Tarkovsky's towering meditation on life, love and dreams, freely adapting and building upon Stanislaw Lem's source novel. Tarkovsky uses Lem only as a jumping-off point, but the juxtaposition of the two artists' ideas help to imbue the movie with its rich thematic power. Clocking in at just under three hours and moving with the speed of a coelacanth crossing the ocean floor, Solaris is no quick trip around the universe, but its rewards are there to be found — as in all Tarkovsky's films, if the viewer can pay enough patient attention. Tarkovsky's brand of cerebral cinema defeated and befuddled even his sternest critics in Russia, who would have prevented all his films from being shown if only they'd understood them. Andrei Rublev (1966), his greatest work, was banned for years, and he learned his lesson. His message from then on was considerably over his opponents' heads, and under their radar. Solaris is only nominally about science fiction and its deeper meaning mines an altogether different world. Criterion's splendid two-disc set does the movie proud with a wonderful full-width transfer, audio commentary by scholars Vida Johnson and Graham Petrie, several deleted and alternate scenes, video interviews with the charmingly daffy Natalya Bondarchuk and other members of the production team as well as a contribution from Stanislaw Lem himself.
 Contempt (Le Mepris 1963) is another fabulous package from Criterion which superbly showcases Jean-Luc Godard's seminal work. Producer Kim Hendrickson outdoes herself with the collection of goodies contained within; audio commentary by Robert Stam, an hour-long film called The Dinosaur and the Baby, which is a conversation between Godard and director Fritz Lang (who appears in Contempt), Encounter With Fritz Lang (1967), a short film by Peter Fleischmann; a pair of behind-the-scenes production featurettes, and most interestingly, an interview with Godard from a 1964 program called Cinepanorama which reveals Godard to be terse, witty, solemn, pragmatic and even quirkily self-effacing. As for Contempt itself, it's a model of its form, a stylish rumination on beauty, love and show business with the greatest sex kitten of her day, Brigitte Bardot. The lengthy opening with Ms. Bardot sprawled naked on her bed enquiring of her lover whether he admires each part of her body in turn is now a much-imitated piece of celluloid folklore, indelibly forever fixed in the mind. It also reminds us that before his shoddy fall from grace and his public humiliations, Jean-Luc Godard really was, for a moment in time, a deft dazzler of cinemagic.
 The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (1943), is often said to be Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger's finest hour, and indeed it's a claim that can be pressed with some alacrity. In their archers' quiver of delights Blimp looms large and is certainly ambitious in its design and execution. Based on Sir David Low's caricaturish cartoons, British soldier Clive Candy (Roger Livesey) embarks on a 50-year odyssey of war and peace, learning about life, love and friendship along the way. Deborah Kerr is exquisite as an emblem of fine female nobility in the face of chaos and adversity. Michael Powell converses with Martin Scorsese on the audio commentary recorded years ago for Criterion's laserdisc, but it's good to have it ported over on the DVD; additionally a 24-minute British documentary on Blimp is included, which covers some nice ground with Emeric Pressburger's grandson, documentarian Kevin MacDonald.
 Sticking with the theme of Britain at war, Paramount Home Video in England has issued a superb new DVD of Zulu (1963), directed by Cy Endfield, which tells the story of the infamous battle of Rorke's Drift, where a small company of Welsh Borderers held off the hordes of King Cetewayo in January 1879. This holding action, which lasted 24 hours, resulted in the awarding of 11 Victoria Crosses (the British equivalent of the Congressional Medal of Honor.) In no military situation, either before or since, has that number been bested. The film, which stars Stanley Baker and a young Michael Caine, is one of the finest action/adventure films of the time, and is produced by Joseph E. Levine. This terrific region 2 (PAL) DVD includes a new documentary on the making of the film as well as an audio commentary by historian Sheldon Hall and 2nd unit director Robert Porter.
 On a lighter note, Anchor Bay Entertainment (ABE) unleashes the goofy world of the Carry Ons, a spiffy box set housing 12 of the raucous blighters. Starting with Carry on Nurse (1958) and cruising on through to Carry on Cowboy (1966), the Carry Ons are kind of a randy adjunct to the Hope and Crosby road movies. The same cast of cheeky character comics flounder, wheeze, lech and leer through an abundant array of naughty circumstances, pausing only to catch their breath in the midst of the hilarity. Of course, all these movies are wretched, but their status in the annals of British sexpot salubriousness is unparalleled. Beginning in the late '50s and ending somewhere in the '70s, Sid James, Kenneth Williams, Charles Hawtrey, Barbara Windsor, Joan Sims, Hattie Jacques and Kenneth Connor, all working together, never once met a double entendre they didn't like. Also included in ABE's box is the 93-minute documentary That's Carry On, which aims to ape That's Entertainment and is every bit as awful as the movies it nostalgically endorses. Don't miss it for anything!
 Austin Powers in Goldmember (2002), the third installment in the saucy spy's canon, contains many a nod and a wink to Britain's sex-mad attitudes, and the presence of Michael Caine (now Sir Michael!), adds a touch of genuine melancholy for a time gone by. New Line's Infinifilm DVD, a new-fangled contraption with a lot of bells and whistles takes some sorting out, but careening around it proves fun in the end. Director Jay Roach and Mike Myers love this milieu, as they Carry On in a delightful audio commentary, and the disc is a zesty, rude companion piece to Austin's time-warped artifact. Navigating the menus throws up a plethora of giggles and bits, including a bunch of deleted scenes, which as usual deserve to be on the cutting room floor — all save one, that is. After Austin and his "farzher," Michael Caine, part company there's a montage where all the characters, in different situations, sing a variation on the title song from Alfie called "What's It All About, Austin?" Clearly a clever parody of Magnolia, the scene actually elevates the movie beyond camp into a kind of dazed wonder, culminating as it does with Mr. Caine himself singing the tune while a collection of images of his younger self play on a video screen above his head. It's a marvelous moment, and I watched it a number of times. What's it all about? Stuff like this.
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