BLUE SUN PALACE--Constance Tsang’s quietly powerful feature debut unfolds with the delicate touch of a director already in full command of the medium. Winner of the Critics' Week jury prize at the 2024 Cannes Film Festival, the movie is a stirring meditation on grief, isolation and fleeting connection within the Chinese immigrant community of Flushing, Queens. The story follows Cheung, played with haunting restraint by Lee Kang-sheng, a Taiwanese immigrant laborer leading a life of quiet repetition and economic hardship. When Didi (Haipeng Xu), a massage parlor worker, is killed during a robbery, the event draws Cheung into a tenuous emotional connection with Amy (Wu Ke-xi), Didi’s friend and co-worker. As Amy struggles to process her friend’s death while tending to the menial rhythms of her job, a fragile relationship begins to form between her and Cheung marked less by romance than by shared alienation. Tsang, who drew in part from her childhood in Queens, avoids melodrama, instead favoring long takes, ambient sound and understated visual poetry to evoke the inner lives of her characters. The performances are uniformly strong, but it is Lee’s presence that anchors the proceedings:  his silences, sideway glances and hesitant gestures all speaking volumes. Wu Ke-xi brings a layered complexity to Amy, balancing weariness with resilience. Shot on 16mm, it feels intimate and tactile, never straining for grand gestures but finding beauty and humanity in overlooked places (late-night convenience stores, badly lit apartments, empty massage rooms). A striking debut that announces Tsang as a filmmaker of subtlety and vision, it gives voice to lives rarely seen with such clarity on screen. (B PLUS.) STREAMING EXCLUSIVELY ON MUBI.

https://youtu.be/8x92_rWlkvU?si=XPjtawDty_pMB3WJ

THE BURMESE HARP--One of the most luminous achievements in postwar Japanese cinema, Ken Ichikawa's 1956 masterwork is a work of such grace, moral clarity and emotional resonance that it transcends the confines of its wartime setting. Adapted from Michio Takeyama’s novel, the film unfolds in the waning days of World War II as a Japanese unit in Burma, led by the gentle Captain Inouye (Rentarō Mikuni), faces imminent surrender. Among the soldiers is Private Mizushima (Shoji Yasui), a skilled harp player whose delicate melodies serve as a balm for his weary comrades and a bridge between cultures, even in the midst of war’s devastation. After the official surrender, Mizushima is sent to persuade a group of holdout soldiers to lay down their arms. The mission fails, ending in bloodshed and Mizushima—presumed dead—undergoes a profound transformation. Rescued and nursed back to health by Burmese monks, he dons their saffron robes and embarks on a solitary pilgrimage, dedicating himself to burying the countless unclaimed dead strewn across the battle-scarred countryside. His decision creates a haunting absence for Inouye and the others who long to reunite with their friend before returning to Japan. Ichikawa’s direction is quietly impactful, blending the spare lyricism of Kenji Mizoguchi with the humanist tenderness of Yasujiro Ozu. Minoru Yokoyama’s cinematography captures both the lush, rain-soaked beauty of Burma and the spectral stillness of war’s aftermath while Akira Ifukube’s score--interwoven with the recurring folk song “Home! Sweet Home!”--becomes an aching refrain for a homeland lost and perhaps forever changed.What elevates the movie to the realm of the sublime is its refusal to sensationalize conflict. Instead it dwells on compassion, moral duty and the possibility of reconciliation:  both with others and within oneself. Mizushima’s journey from soldier to monk is not framed as an escape from responsibility, but as a deepened embrace of it, his devotion to the war dead a quiet act of resistance against the erasure of human lives. By its final, devastating scene when the departing soldiers glimpse Mizushima in his monk’s robes separated by a river they cannot cross, Ichikawa delivers a meditation on loss, memory and spiritual awakening that lingers like a half-remembered prayer. Nearly seven decades later, "The Burmese Harp" still sings, its notes clear and timeless, offering not just a requiem for the dead, but a prayer for the living.The Criterion Collection's 4K digitally restored Blu-Ray includes archival interviews with Ichikawa and Mikuni and an essay by critic/Asian cinema specialist Tony Rayns. (A.) https://youtu.be/LA6xYjEw5Uk?si=p_9do99WEd-4Ywbk

EDEN—Buttressed by first-rate performances and a gripping true-life narrative, Ron Howard's survival drama blends philosophical musings with raw human conflict. Set on the Galápagos Islands in 1929, it follows Dr. Friedrich Ritter (Jude Law) and his common law wife Dore (Vanessa Kirby) who fled Nazi Germany with dreams of building a utopian society. Their Sisyphean experiment is soon disrupted when a young couple Heinz (Daniel Brühl) and Margret (Sydney Sweeney) arrives, soon followed by the imperious Baroness Eloise Bosquet de Wagner Wehrhorn (Ana de Armas) whose heedless ambition to build a luxury hotel on the island pits the Ritter's idealism against ignoble greed. Howard deftly conveys the untamed beauty and danger of the natural setting while his actors create layered characterizations. Law and Kirby bring moral weight to the equation, Brühl and Sweeney help ground it emotionally and de Armas infuses the proceedings with an amusing hauteur. Balancing psychological tension with a sense of encroaching dread, the film digs into timeless themes of trust, leadership and human frailty. Like Howard's best movie, 2013's "Rush," it evinces a sophisticated moral neutrality that feels more European than Hollywood. (B PLUS.) https://youtu.be/5GKwwZO7Hbw?si=sEE9hKDwVJYNr4uh

FAMILIAR TOUCH--Sarah Friedland’s moving, lyrical debut examines aging, memory and the rhythms of quotidian life with grace and authenticity. Set in a residential Pasadena care facility, the movie centers on Ruth Goldman, portrayed with remarkable depth and dignity by Broadway veteran Kathleen Chalfant. As Ruth confronts the encroaching fog of dementia, Chalfant’s performance captures the shifting line between lucidity and confusion with subtlety, grounding the character in both vulnerability and strength. H. Jon Benjamin delivers a refreshingly understated performance as Steve, Ruth’s adult son, who struggles to reconcile the woman his mother once was with the woman he visits in fleeting, disjointed moments. Their scenes are filled with inchoate tension, marked more by what’s unsaid than spoken aloud. As he navigates his own sense of loss, Steve finds himself slowly drawn into Ruth’s new world rather than trying to pull her back into his. Also very good are Carolyn Michelle Smith (the caregiver who provides a sense of structure and humanity in Ruth’s daily routine), Andy McQueen (a wellness instructor who provides gentle energy and hope to the residents through small acts of connection) and Katelyn Nacon (the facility's indomitable music therapist). Long takes and carefully composed frames reflect the interior landscape of the characters with cinematographer Gabe C. Elder lending a sunlit softness that eschews sentimentality. Friedland finds meaning in the mundane--meals, music, morning routines--treating them not as background but as the central texture of life to seniors. A rare film that respects the dignity of its characters and embraces the slowness of memory and healing, it's an elegant, emotionally resonant portrait of aging and a promising first feature from Friedland. (B PLUS.) AVAILABLE TO RENT ON VARIOUS STEAMING PLATFORMS. https://youtu.be/NY7qpocVWZE?si=SsmoPASsDWX1VJm6

HAPPY GILMORE--This 1996 cult classic, one of the great crowd-pleasing sports comedies of its era, wears its ridiculousness like a badge of honor while still delivering an engaging underdog story. Adam Sandler, in one of his defining early roles, plays the title character--a short-tempered hockey player with a monstrous slapshot but no skating skills--who unexpectedly discovers a talent for golf. His motivation is pure: win enough prize money to save his beloved grandmother’s house from foreclosure. The premise allows Sandler’s manic energy to crash headfirst into the stuffy world of professional golf, producing a steady stream of hilariously unhinged moments. From Happy’s iconic running tee-off to his outrageous on-course trash talk, the film thrives on its collision of sports cultures. Christopher McDonald is pitch-perfect as smug antagonist Shooter McGavin, a golfer whose arrogance makes him the perfect foil. Julie ("Modern Family") Bowen provides a likable counterbalance as the PR professional who sees Happy’s potential and Carl Weathers delivers a memorable turn as Chubbs, the one-handed ex-golfer who becomes a reluctant mentor. The comedy ranges from slapstick brawls (most famously Happy's showdown with TV gameshow icon Bob Barker) to absurd visual gags, yet there’s a surprising sincerity behind the lunacy. Sandler’s Happy isn’t just a cartoon:  his devotion to his grandmother and willingness to grow, however begrudgingly, makes him easy to root for. Dennis Dugan’s streamlined direction wisely lets the performances and gags do the heavy lifting while the brisk pace keeps the laughs coming pretty much non-stop. Nearly three decades later, "Happy Gilmore" holds up as both a time capsule of Sandler’s breakout decade and a sports movie that transcends its genre. It’s outrageous, infinitely quotable and unapologetically goofy, proof that sometimes the best way to play golf is with a hockey stick and a whole lot of attitude. The KL Studio Classics' Blu-Ray includes an audio commentary with "Billy Gilmore Podcast" host Wilson Smith and author/filmmaker Bryan Connolly; deleted scenes/outtakes; and the original theatrical trailer. (A.)

https://youtu.be/y1emDAYCfVQ?si=byipL9NAHww-rxkT

HONEY, DON'T--Writing and directing alongside his wife, Tricia Cooke, Ethan ("Fargo," "No County For Old Men") Coen's sly, stylish neo-noir is set in Bakersfield, California and follows Honey O'Donahue (Margaret Qualley, Demi Moore's doppelgänger in "The Substance"), a lesbian P.I. who finds herself drawn into a series of mysterious deaths. As Honey probes deeper, she makes the acquaintance of Reverend Drew Devlin (Chris Evans), the charismatic yet unsettling leader of a fringe church whose roguish charm masks something deeply sinister. The plot gains kinetic energy when resourceful police officer MG Falcone (Aubrey Plaza) enters the fray:  her sharp wit and dynamic presence complement Honey’s composed determination as they form an unlikely investigative team. Brisk and tightly paced, it positively revels in genre playfulness and queer sensibility (continuing Coen and Cooke's “lesbian B-movie trilogy” that began with 2024's "Drive Away Dolls," also starring Qualley), but ultimately feels more like an affectionate pastiche than a fully developed detective yarn. While the central mystery may not fully satisfy, the film's commitment to off-kilter charm and subversive noir energy make it an engaging entry on Ethan Coen’s Joel-less resume. (B.) https://youtu.be/Jzr6pHIZAI0?si=7uSXOpiv2hpt3Ccb

NE ZHA 11--Director Yu Yang's animated sequel to his Chinese-language blockbuster picks up immediately where its 2019 predecessor left off. After divine lightning reduces Ne Zha and Ao Bing to disembodied spirits, their mentor Taiyi Zhenren reconstructs them using the Seven-Colored Lotus. The ritual proves fragile--Ao Bing’s new form collapses under pressure, forcing him to share Ne Zha’s body for seven days while they complete three trials set by the immortal Wuliang to earn a potion that can restore Ao Bing’s body and halt an assault by Ao Guang’s dragon forces. As they venture through demon-filled villages and celestial tests, Ne Zha and Ao Bing grapple not only with physical challenges but the moral complexities of sharing a single life and confronting betrayal within the heavenly order. The Chan sect’s leader, Wuliang, emerges as a Trumpian villain, orchestrating mass violence for his own amusement and forcing the duo to unite dragons, demons and humans against his celestial hypocrisy. With high-stakes action setpieces and richly detailed CGI evoking mythic grandeur, "Ne Zha II" is a visual dazzler. Its thematic depths—identity, shared sacrifice and challenging corrupt authority figures—help anchor the spectacle in a universal emotional truth. While the labyrinthian plot might prove a tad confounding for western audiences, the emotional stakes still manage to resonate. (B.)

https://youtu.be/ETlOSBR92Fs?si=u9w6dgnQYb76FyAK

RELAY—"Hell or High Water" director David Mackenzie’s gripping new film is an elegantly crafted Hitchcockian thriller that breathes new life into the '70s paranoid-suspense genre. Anchored by a nuanced, quietly magnetic performance from "The Sound of Metal" Oscar nominee Riz Ahmed, the film unspools with deliberate, tension-laden precision. Ahmed's Tom--a shadowy “fixer” operating off the grid--facilitates anonymous exchanges between whistleblowers and corrupt corporations, leveraging a telephone relay service to obscure everyone's identities The methodical calm of his work belies the emotional weight he carries, including his struggle with sobriety (subtly interwoven through scenes of Tom attending AA meetings). The stakes intensify when Sarah (Lily James), an idealistic biotech scientist fleeing corporate retaliation, enters Tom’s orbit. Her plea for protection forces him to break his own rules, sparking a tense, emotionally charged collaboration as they’re pursued by a relentless corporate enforcer (Sam Worthington taking a welcome break from the "Avatar" franchise). The understated chemistry between Ahmed and James feels genuine, forming a compelling emotional core amid the low-tech sleights and procedural ingenuity. Visually anchored in a pungently authentic New York setting, Mackenzie elevates everyday environments (mailrooms, subway platforms, even a vinyl record store) into suspenseful playgrounds. Though a late inning twist takes some of the wind out of its sails, the journey remains a memorable cinematic joyride. (A MINUS.) https://youtu.be/ywC__z5VgZM?si=zlhqKV0PPTQCxD4i

SHOESHINE--One of the earliest and most luminous achievements of Italian neorealism, Vittorio De Sica's classic radiates compassion while never flinching from the stark realities of postwar life. Shot in the rubble-strewn streets and cramped interiors of Rome, it tells the story of two inseparable boys--Giuseppe (Rinaldo Smordoni) and Pasquale (Franco Interlenghi)--whose modest dream of buying a horse is derailed by a chain of petty crimes, bad luck and the grinding machinery of institutional neglect. From its opening moments, "Shoeshine" pulses with an almost documentary immediacy. De Sica’s camera finds poetry in the smallest gestures: the boys’ exuberant rides on their horse, the glint of sun on cobblestones, the fragile laughter that survives amid ignominy. Yet this warmth is always in tension with the encroaching coldness of a society more interested in punishment than compassion. When Giuseppe and Pasquale are sent to a juvenile detention center, the movie shifts into a heartbreaking study of friendship under siege:  how mistrust, manipulation and desperation can corrode even the strongest bond.The performances drawn from nonprofessional actors are nothing short of miraculous. Smordoni’s mischievous energy and Interlenghi’s quiet dignity create a dynamic so authentic it feels lived rather than acted. De Sica and screenwriter Cesare Zavattini infuse the narrative with a profound humanism. There are no villains here, only people caught in the grip of poverty, bureaucracy and moral compromise. Technically the film is remarkable for its understated beauty. Anchored by Anchise Brizzi’s fluid cinematography, the visuals balance gritty realism with moments of lyrical grace. De Sica avoids sentimentality, allowing the tragedy to emerge organically from circumstance rather than contrivance. Even the smallest supporting roles feel vivid, their individuality painstakingly etched. When "Shoeshine" premiered, it resonated far beyond Italy, earning a special Academy Award for its “high spiritual quality” and helped introduce neorealism to the world. Nearly eight decades later, its emotional power remains undiminished. The final scenes, devastating in their simplicity, remind us that the cost of injustice is not measured only in lost lives, but in broken trust, squandered youth and dreams that dissolve into dust. Tender,unblinking and unforgettable, this is cinema as moral witness, a timeless work of empathy that speaks as urgently today as it did in the ashes of postwar 1946. Extras on the Criterion Collection's digitally restored 4K Blu-Ray include "Sciuscia," Mimmo Verdesca's 2016 documentary celebrating the film's 70th anniversary; a featurette on "Shoeshine" and Italian neorealism with scholars Catherine O'Rawe and Paola Bonifazio; a 1946 radio broadcast with De Sica; an essay by N.Y.U. Contemporary Italian Studies professor David Forgacs; and De Sica's 1945 photo-documentary, "Shoeshine, Joe?" (A PLUS.) 

https://youtu.be/0qcBeWoNh2k?si=JIQlmEK3YiC9F2Yq

NOW AVAILABLE IN THEATERS, ON HOME VIDEO AND/OR STREAMING CHANNELS:  

AMERICANA--Set against the lazy sprawl of a small Midwestern town, this stylized, noir-tinged crime thriller has a nouveau Western vibe reminiscent of Ari Aster's "Eddington." It Girl Sydney Sweeney toplines as Penny Jo Poplin, an aspiring country singer whose fantasy of stardom is derailed when she becomes entangled in a get-rich scheme involving a stolen Native American artifact. Paul Walter Hauser plays Lefty, an ex-con desperate to cash in on the pilfered relic's value, and recording artist Halsey impresses in her screen debut as a bartender whose loyalties remain ambiguous throughout. Rounding out the impressive cast are Sweeney's "Euphoria" costar Eric Dane (a menacing fixer trying to retrieve the item on behalf of, er, shadowy interests) and Zahn ("Dark Winds") McClarnon who brings quiet authority to the role of a tribal investigator seeking justice for his community. First-time director Tony Tost displays a keen eye for character and atmosphere, layering the byzantine plot with jaundiced commentary on cultural appropriation, economic desperation and faded dreams. While Tost flirts with genre conventions, he generally avoids cliches via strong performances and a sharp, elliptical script that gradually reveals how each character is drawn to the artifact and what it represents to each of them. The movie vividly captures a faded, dust-caked version of the American heartland, underscored by haunting musical cues and deliberate pacing. A modern day parable of greed and identity, it marks a compelling, idiosyncratic filmmaking debut from Tost. (B.)

THE BAD GUYS II--An amiable sequel to the 2022 animated sleeper that picks up where the first movie left off with the charming crew of reformed animal criminals struggling to stay on the straight and narrow. This time the Bad Guys--Mr. Wolf (Oscar winner Sam Rockwell), Mr. Snake (Marc Maron), Ms. Tarantula (Awkwafina), Mr. Shark (Craig Robinson) and Mr. Piranha (Anthony Ramos)--are reluctantly pulled back into action when a mysterious new villain, the Phantom Bandit (Danielle Brooks), threatens their hard-earned new reputations and the city they’ve sworn to protect. With their dynamic still shaky after having gone legit, the team must navigate personal tensions, elaborate heists and moral dilemmas to prove they’ve truly changed their criminal stripes. Returning director Pierre Perifel retains the original's visual flair by blending slick 2D flourishes with kinetic 3D animation. The movie leans into its crime-caper roots with playful energy while delivering fast-paced, cleverly choreographed action sequences. Though the plot revisits familiar redemption cliches, "Bad Guys 2" maintains a consistently breezy tone that should have no trouble appealing to both kids and grown-ups. With its sharp comic timing and enough clever twists to keep things pacy, this entertaining follow-up proves that even semi-reformed crooks can still steal the show. (B.)

CARNAL KNOWLEDGE--Mike Nichols' searing, stylish and unflinching examination of masculinity, sexual politics and emotional alienation is crafted with razor-sharp precision and anchored by bravura performances. Written by legendary Village Voice cartoonist Jules Feiffer, this wildly provocative 1971 masterwork strips the romantic veneer from sex and relationships, laying bare the toxic entanglements 

and emotional paralysis that often lie beneath. Unfolding over two decades, it traces the lives of two college roommates—Jonathan (Jack Nicholson) and Sandy (Art Garfunkel)—as they navigate their romantic and sexual entanglements from youth into middle age. Jonathan, all smirking bravado and cynical detachment, emerges as the movie's bruised and brutal heart. Nicholson is electrifying, charting Jonathan’s arc from glib womanizer to emotionally hollow predator with chilling nuance. Garfunkel plays Sandy as a more passive and idealistic counterpart, one who cloaks his desires in sensitivity but ultimately proves just as self-serving and deluded. Candice Bergen is stunning in an early role as the woman both men pursue in college. Bergen's Susan hints at the emotional dislocation experienced by women who find themselves trapped in male fantasies and contradictions. Yet it’s Ann-Margret who delivers the most devastating turn as Bobbie, Jonathan’s later lover and live-in girlfriend. She infuses the role with a potent mix of vulnerability and volatility, capturing the deep emotional toll of being tethered to a man incapable of genuine intimacy. Her scenes with Nicholson simmer with tension and heartbreak, and her unraveling gives the film its most wrenching moments. Nichols’ direction is spare but incisive with long takes, tight framing and stark compositions heightening the emotional claustrophobia. Every shot feels purposeful, emphasizing both the erotic charge and the emptiness that define the characters’ relationships. The temporal jumps are handled with remarkable fluidity, conveying how little these men truly change even as the world around them evolves. Visual motifs (mirrors, empty beds, dim apartments) recur throughout, reinforcing the theme of loneliness and spiritual isolation. Unlike traditional romantic dramas of the era (its antithesis, "Love Story," opened a mere six months earlier), "Carnal Knowledge" refuses sentimentality or redemption. Its brilliance lies in its honesty:  harsh, at times bitter, but never less than riveting. Nichols and Feiffer dissect male insecurity and entitlement with unflinching clarity, and its commentary on how men use sex as a weapon or shield remains startlingly relevant, retaining its power both as a fearless character study and cultural artifact of shifting gender dynamics. Through its unrelenting gaze and unforgettable performances, it continues to provoke, disturb and resonate. This is one of Nichols’ boldest, most enduring works. The Criterion Collection Blu-Ray includes an audio commentary with director Neil ("In the Company of Men," "Your Friends and Neighbors") LaBute; a conversation between Nichols biographer Mark Harris and critic Dana Stevens; an interview with film-editing historian Bobbie O'Steen (daughter of frequent Nichols editor Sam O'Steen); a 2011 chat between Nichols and director Jason ("Up in the Air," "Juno") Reitman; a Q&A with screenwriter Jules Feiffer; an essay by Harvard literature professor Moira Weigel; and a 1971 "American Cinematographer" article about the look of the film. 

(A PLUS.)

THE FANTASTIC FOUR:  FIRST STEPS--Set in an alternate retro-futuristic timeline, this latest attempt to build a cinematic franchise out of the comic book introduced in 1961 establishes the origin of Marvel’s “first family” with  stylized flair, practical effects and laudable ambition. Pedro Pascal brings a cerebral energy to the role of Reed Richards/Mr. Fantastic, but there’s a slight emotional distance that keeps his performance from truly connecting. Vanessa Kirby conveys quiet strength and layered intelligence as the team’s moral center, Sue Storm/Invisible Woman; Joseph Quinn’s Johnny Storm/Human Torch) offers a jolt of charisma and youthful energy; and Ebon Moss-Bachrach’s Ben Grimm/The Thing delivers grounded pathos beneath his rock-solid exterior. Julia Garner is a striking presence as Shalla-Bal, a reimagined Silver Surfer, and Ralph Ineson’s deep-voiced Galactus lends the final act an operatic sense of grandeur even though his role feels more setup than payoff. Director Matt Shakman’s decision to lean into a '60s-inspired sci-fi aesthetic (complete with retro space suits and analog gadgetry) gives it a unique personality within the MCU. Unfortunately, the pacing lags in the second half and the stakes seem oddly muted for a film involving a world-devouring cosmic entity. While the character dynamics are promising, they don’t always cohere dramatically. An ambitious reset that takes a bold aesthetic swing with visual invention and an impressive cast, it ultimately feels more like a place-setter than a fully satisfying standalone adventure. (B.)

FREAKIER FRIDAY--With its smart blend of nostalgia and generational comedy, this spirited return to body-swap hijinks reunites Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan two decades-plus after their 2003 reboot of the 1977 Disney hit which starred Jodie Foster and the wonderful Barbara Harris. Director Nisha Ganatra's sequel adds a fresh twist by upping the ante:  not just one body switch, but multiple swaps across generations of the same family. Thestory picks up with Anna (Lohan) who's now a single mom and struggling musician raising a rebellious teenage daughter ("Once Upon a Time in...Hollywood" scene-stealer Julia Butters' Harper). Tess (Curtis), semi-retired and recently remarried, is trying to bond with her granddaughter when a mysterious heirloom causes all three to switch bodies. As Anna ends up in her daughter’s body, Harper lands in her grandmother’s and Tess finds herself back in Anna’s skin, the misunderstandings and chaos that ensue are frequently hilarious and surprisingly heartwarming. The movie wisely plays to Oscar winner Curtis’s well-honed comic chops while giving Lohan the opportunity to revisit Anna from a more mature, layered perspective. Butters impressively holds her own, balancing teen angst with grown-up confusion. The multi-swap format keeps the momentum brisk, ensuring that each performer gets a chance to shine. While the premise is familiar, Ganatra updates its themes with elan resulting in a winning comedy about empathy, identity, and the strange beauty of walking a mile in someone else’s shoes. (B) 

JEAN DE FLORETTE; MANON OF THE SPRING--Set against the stunning backdrop of rural Provence, Claude Berri's two 1986 films comprise an epic tale of greed, revenge and fate. Based on Marcel Pagnol’s beloved novels, "Jean de Florette" and "Manon of the Spring," they create a deeply affecting meditation on destiny, morality and the inescapable weight of the past. The first film introduces us to Ugolin (Daniel Auteuil) and his conniving uncle César Soubeyran, known as Le Papet (Yves Montand). The two peasants seek to acquire land with a hidden water source to cultivate carnations. However, their plans are thwarted when the rightful heir, Jean Cadoret (Gérard Depardieu), inherits the land. Jean, an optimistic and well-schooled city man with a hunchback, dreams of farming the land with his wife and daughter, Manon. Unbeknownst to him, Ugolin and Le Papet block the spring, depriving Jean's farm of water. Despite his perseverance and reliance on scientific methods, the crops fail, leading to Jean's tragic downfall. The sequel takes place years later with Manon (Emmanuelle Beart) now a reclusive young woman living in the hills. Having discovered the truth about her father’s demise, she seeks justice. Manon's actions set off a chain of events that bring ruin to Ugolin and Le Papet, culminating in a devastating revelation about their true connection to Jean. Berri’s direction masterfully balances the grandeur of the Provençal setting with the intimate, often heartbreaking struggles of his characters. The cinematography captures the rugged beauty of the land, reinforcing the themes of survival and the power of nature. Jean’s tragedy is heartbreaking, made even more so by Depardieu’s heartbreaking performance. Auteuil plays Ugolin with a mix of foolishness and desperation and Montand delivers a haunting portrayal of a man whose greed leads to unforeseen consequences. Béart’s career-launching performance is utterly mesmerizing, embodying both her character's fragility and fierce determination. Shifting from tragedy to poetic justice, it delivers a cathartic ending that will haunt you long after the credits roll. With their superb performances and masterful storytelling, the two films rank among the greatest achievements in post-New Wave French cinema. Criterion's Blu-Ray Special Edition includes a 2018 documentary (Claude Berri: The Card Dealer") on Berri's life and career; the 2017 doc, "The Force of Destiny," about the making of the films; and an essay by UK film academic Sue Harris. (A PLUS.)

JURASSIC WORLD REBIRTH--Director Gareth ("Rogue One," 2014's "Godzilla") Edwards' contribution to the 32-year franchise improves upon the recent Chris Pratt-Bryce Dallas Howard misfires with a refreshing blend of suspense, spectacle and even surprise. Edwards shifts the tone back toward a darker, more primal edge, restoring the sense of danger that defined Steven Spielberg's 1993 classic. Rather than relying solely on CGI, it melds practical effects with real‑world locations, adding texture and suspense to the equation (the dinosaur sequences feel remarkably visceral). An unsuspecting civilian family on vacation and a covert team led by Scarlett Johansson are catapulted into danger on a secluded, genetically volatile island. Screenwriter David Koepp, who penned the first "Jurassic Park" returns, pays homage to its roots while still managing to chart new territory. (Rescuing dinosaur DNA for medical research grounds the film in real ethical and environmental stakes.) Pacing is generally taut with several nerve‑racking set pieces that effectively balance awe and dread. The introduction of new mutant dinosaurs (including a hulking new T. rex and some bizarre hybrids) injects freshness and unpredictability into the IP. Performances are generally solid with the combined charisma of Johanssen, two-time Oscar winner Mahershala Ali, Rupert Friend and "Wicked" boy toy Jonathan Bailey anchoring the human side of the story. Some of the character arcs are a tad formulaic, though, and occasional lulls (not helped by an overly generous 135-minute run time) dilute the overall impact. But if you're craving a dino adventure that’s more than just CGI spectacle--one that ticks the nostalgia box while delivering a few genuine scares--"Rebirth" mostly succeeds. While it doesn’t eclipse the original, it’s arguably the most thematically and tonally resonant sequel since 2001's "Jurassic Park III." (B.)

MISHIMA--A singular cinematic achievement, Paul Schrader's audacious 1985 blend of biography, psychological portraiture and formal experimentation remains unlike anything else in American or international cinema. More than a biopic, "Mishima" is a stylized meditation on art, identity and the fatal convergence of beauty and violence, filtered through the life and work of Japanese author Yukio Mishima. Schrader, best known for writing gritty character studies like "Taxi Driver" and "Raging Bull," approaches Mishima’s story with both reverence and bold invention. Rather than follow a traditional chronological format, he structures the film in four thematic chapters (“Beauty,” “Art,” “Action” and “Harmony of Pen and Sword”), weaving together three interlaced strands: dramatizations of Mishima’s novels, episodes from his personal life and the final day leading up to his ritual suicide in 1970. This triptych structure creates a layered, prismatic portrait that captures not just what Mishima did, but what he believed, imagined and struggled against. The results are visually breathtaking. Schrader enlisted production designer Eiko Ishioka and cinematographer John Bailey to help create a work of immense formal beauty. The sections depicting Mishima’s fiction, drawn from "The Temple of the Golden Pavilion," "Kyoko’s House" and "Runaway Horses," are staged on lavish, expressionistic sets bursting with color and stylization, while the biographical sequences are shot in a starkly realistic, almost documentary-like style. This interplay heightens the central theme: the tension between the world as it is and the world as it ought to be according to aesthetic or moral ideals. Central to the movie’s power is Philip Glass’s hypnotic, minimalist score. The music helps give it an operatic propulsion, driving the narrative with rhythmic insistence and emotional grandeur. It's one of Glass’s most iconic cinematic compositions, perfectly attuned to the inner turbulence of its subject. Ken Ogata’s performance as Mishima is another essential ingredient. Ogata doesn’t try to make the author sympathetic or palatable; instead, he inhabits his contradictions—his narcissism and discipline, his devotion to beauty and obsession with death—with quiet intensity. He gives voice to a man who demanded absolute control over his body, his writing and his legacy. What makes "Mishima" so remarkable is its refusal to resolve the paradoxes it presents. Schrader doesn’t simplify or judge Mishima’s nationalist zeal, his theatrical final act or his complex sexuality. Instead, he renders a portrait of a man wrestling with the limits of art and the corruptibility of the physical world. The film confronts uncomfortable questions about politics, masculinity and the role of the artist in society, questions that resonate far beyond Mishima himself.Despite being produced by George Lucas and Francis Ford Coppola, "Mishima" was barely released in Japan and struggled to find an audience in the U.S. due to its challenging subject matter and hybrid form. But in the ensuing decades, it ultimately gained recognition as a masterpiece. Intellectually rigorous and emotionally stirring, it's a triumph of cinematic form that honors the complexity of its subject while offering a profound reflection on the relationship between life and art. The new Criterion Collection box set includes both 4K and Blu-Ray copies of the film as well as a treasure trove of tantalizing extras. There are two alternate English narrations (one by "Jaws"/"All That Jazz" star Roy Scheider); Schrader and producer Alan Poul's audio commentary; a making-of featurette with Bailey, producers Tom Luddy and Mata Yamamoto, Glass and Eshioka; an audio interview with coscreenwriter Chieko Schrader; excerpts from a 1966 interview with Mishima; the 1985 documentary, "The Strange Case of Yukio Mishima;" a featurette on Mishima with his biographer John Nathan and Japanese film maven Donald Richie; an essay by critic Kevin Jackson; an article about the movie's censorship difficulties in Japan; and remarkably tactile photographs of Ishioka's sets. (A.) 

THE NAKED GUN—A reboot of the beloved Zucker-Abrahams-Zucker trilogy that doesn’t stray far from the anarchic comic spirit of the original films. Starring Liam Neeson in Leslie Nielsen's role of bumbling detective Frank Drebin, it’s a gleefully absurd return to a franchise defined by slapstick, deadpan humor and relentless 

derision. Neeson, best known for his stoic action roles, leans into self-parody with surprising finesse, fully embracing Drebin’s clueless sincerity. Whether he’s accidentally detonating a vending machine or interrogating a mannequin, Neeson plays it straight and that’s precisely what sells the comedy. The plot is mostly a loose framework designed to string together a barrage of visual gags, groan-worthy puns and surreal sight gags. This time, Drebin stumbles into a convoluted plot involving a corrupt pharmaceutical tycoon, a stolen experimental drug and a botched awards show assassination attempt. Naturally, it makes very little sense 

and that's part of the charm. Some jokes feel recycled or strained, but more often than not director Akiva Schaffer finds the right balance between nostalgia and fresh lunacy. (B MINUS.) 

NOBODY 2--This follow-up to the 2021 sleeper returns with more ultra violence and darkly comic thrills, anchored once again by Bob ("Better Call Saul") Odenkirk’s tightly coiled lead performance. Picking up four years after the end of the first movie, Hutch Mansell (Odenkirk), the seemingly ordinary suburban dad with a deadly past as a former government assassin, is still entangled with the Russian mob and struggling under a massive $30 million debt which he’s chipping away at through contracts against international bad guys. Meanwhile, his marriage to Becca (Connie Nielsen) is increasingly strained by the demands of his double life. In an attempt to reconnect with his family, the Mansells--including their children Brady (Gage Munroe) and Sammy (Paisley Cadorath) and Hutch’s father David (Christopher Lloyd)--decide to take a trip to Wild Bill’s Majestic Midway and Waterpark, the only vacation spot shared in childhood between Hutch and his adopted brother Harry (RZA). What begins as a sunny family getaway quickly spirals into bone-crunching havoc. A minor confrontation with local bullies draws the unwanted attention of the corrupt theme-park manager (John Ortiz) and shady local sheriff (Colin Hanks), triggering the ire of a ruthless crime boss (Sharon Stone), forcing Hutch to revert to his lethal skill set to defend his loved ones. Indonesian genre ace Timo ("May the Devil Take You," "The Big 4") Tjahjanto expertly melds slick action choreography with genuine emotional stakes. Hutch is once again the “nobody” forced to extraordinary lengths, only this time it’s not just his survival but everyone he holds dear. Odenkirk reprises "nobody" Hutch with a palpable zeal, balancing physical intensity with quiet emotional beats; Nielsen once again brings steely resolve to her under-written role; and Stone, elegantly poised one moment and explosively violent the next, makes an utterly terrifying villain. A kinetic, unexpectedly poignant sequel, it succeeds by expanding the original's mythology while remaining rooted in Hutch’s deeply human struggle for redemption and identity. (B PLUS.)

PERFORMANCE--Co-directors Donald Cammell and Nicolas Roeg's psychedelic fever dream unsettles as much as it mesmerizes, blending gangster noir, identity crisis and surreal experimentation into one of the most iconic British films of the 70's. Shot in 1968 but withheld for two years by Warner Brothers due to its outré content, this remains a landmark in transgressive cinema. (Not surprisingly, it received an "X" rating from the blue-nosedMPAA.) The story follows Chas Devlin (James Fox), a brutal and sadistic London gangster on the run after killing a fellow mobster. Seeking refuge, he hides out in the decaying Notting Hill mansion of reclusive rock star Turner (Mick Jagger in his acting debut). What begins as a tense psychological standoff between the two men slowly mutates into a hallucinatory breakdown of identity, sexuality and reality itself. Fox delivers a stunning performance, embodying Chas' cold, controlled aggression that slowly unravels under the pressure of Turner's bohemian influence. Jagger is both magnetic and unsettling—part Svengali, part victim of his own mythos. Distaff costars Anita Pallenberg and Michèle Breton amplify the hypnotic atmosphere by blurring the line between acting and lived experience. Cammell and Roeg use the visual language of film (jump cuts, dissolves, abrupt tonal shifts) as a means of exploring themes of duality and transformation. Time folds in on itself, and we're never allowed a comfortable sense of narrative footing. These techniques, disorienting by design, mirror the characters’ psychological disintegration and the breakdown of established identities:  masculine vs. feminine, violence vs. art, control vs. surrender. The soundtrack is equally essential to its visceral impact. Featuring contributions from Ry Cooder and Jagger himself (notably the haunting “Memo from Turner”), the music reinforces the woozy, destabilized vibe. It’s less a score than a sonic hallucination, fusing blues, rock and avant-garde textures into a swirling sonic background. "Performance" was both ahead of its time and a product of its moment, steeped in the countercultural experimentation of the late ’60s yet disturbingly prescient in its depiction of fractured identity and the commodification of rebellion. It scandalized critics upon release with its graphic violence, open drug use and gender ambiguity, but has since earned a deserved reputation as a cult classic. Ultimately, it's less a traditional crime drama than an existential spiral:  an acid-tinged meditation on the masks we wear and the consequences of removing them. Roeg and Cammell's masterpiece demands active engagement, rewarding viewers willing to let go of logic and immerse themselves in its intoxicating weirdness. Daring, disorienting, and uncompromising, this isn't a movie you watch, it’s one that you experience. The Criterion Collection 4-K Blu-Ray includes Kevin Macdonald and Chris Rodley's 1998 documentary "Donald Cammell:  The Ultimate Performance;" the 2007 making-of doc "Influence and Controversy: Making 'Performance;'" a new visual essay with dialogue coach/technical adviser David Livintoff; standalone interviews with cast members; a featurette on the over-dubbing done for the U.S. release version; film scholar Peter Wollen's 1995 article ("Danydism, Decadence and Death in 'Performance'"); and an essay ("Cavorting With the Void") by critic Ryan Gilbey. (A.)  

SOME LIKE IT HOT--A master class in screen comedy blending rapid-fire wit, impeccable timing and gender-bending farce, Billy Wilder's masterpiece remains as fresh and hilarious as it was upon its release in 1959. After witnessing the infamous St. Valentine's Day Massacre, struggling Chicago musicians Joe (Tony Curtis) and Jerry (Jack Lemmon) disguise themselves as women and join an all-female band heading to Florida. As “Josephine” and “Daphne,” they awkwardly navigate their new identities, leading to a cascade of comic complications—especially when Joe falls for the band’s singer, Sugar Kane (Marilyn Monroe) and Jerry finds himself the object of wealthy suitor Joe E. Brown's affections. Wilder’s nonpareil direction ensures that every joke lands with precision. The script, co-written with I.A.L. Diamond, is chockfull of sharp dialogue and cleverly constructed misunderstandings. Curtis and Lemmon deliver sublime performances with Lemmon’s increasingly absurd reactions stealing every scene. Monroe, in one of her most iconic roles, exudes charm and vulnerability, particularly in her sultry musical numbers like "I Wanna Be Loved by You." Beyond the slapstick and romance, the film subtly challenges gender norms and social conventions making it surprisingly progressive for its time. The film’s legendary closing line, “Nobody’s perfect," encapsulates its playful, open-minded spirit. Timelessly funny and endlessly rewatchable, this is simply one of the greatest comedies ever made, proving that Wilder’s genius remains unmatched in the genre. The new Criterion Collection box set includes both 4K and Blu-Ray copies of the film along with a smorgasbord of extras including film scholar Howard Suber's audio commentary; a featurette on Orry-Kelly's costumes with historians Deborah Nadoolman Landis and Larry McQueen; Wilder's 1982 appearances on "The Dick Cavett Show;" a 1988 French television interview with Lemmon; three behind-the-scenes documentaries; a 2001 chat between Leonard Maltin and Curtis; a 1955 Monroe radio interview; and an essay by author Sam ("The Big Goodbye") Wasson. (A PLUS.)

SUPERMAN--Arriving with the weight of a franchise reboot on its shoulders, "Guardians of the Galaxy" auteur James Gunn delivers a film that's earnest, ambitious and uneven. David Corenswet steps into the iconic lead role with a wholesome charm and idealism channeling the character’s hopeful inner core. While his Superman is likable and well-intentioned, the performance sometimes feels a bit flat, lacking the psychological complexity that might elevate his dual identity. Rachel ("The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel") Brosnahan makes an okay impression as Lois Lane, capturing the fast-talking wit and assertiveness that defines the character. Her chemistry with Corenswet is serviceable, though not particularly electric. The real jolt comes from Nicholas Hoult who brings a nervy, cold intelligence to uber-villain Lex Luthor. Hoult’s Big Bad is less theatrical and more calculating than previous incarnations:  a sinister presence lurking beneath a polished exterior. He doesn’t get as much screen time as expected, but still manages to leave a lingering impression. The supporting cast—including Isabela Merced (Hawkgirl), Edi Gathegi (Mister Terrific) and Nathan Fillion (Green Lantern)—adds color and hints at a wider DC universe. However, their inclusion sometimes clutters the narrative and distracts from Superman’s arc. Gunn’s direction leans into sincerity and a refreshing optimism, though at times the tonal shifts from newsroom banter to cosmic battles don’t entirely cohere. It's a solid, if slightly overstuffed reintroduction to the iconic D.C. character,  succeeding more in tone and intent than execution. (B.) 

THIEF--Artfully blending Donald E. Thorin's stylish cinematography, atmospheric tension and an emotionally complex protagonist, Michael Mann's 1981 neo-noir crime thriller ranks among the most impressive and stunningly accomplished feature debuts in screen history. James Caan plays Frank, a hardened professional safecracker who dreams of escaping the criminal life for a more honest existence. His ambitions are thwarted, however, when he becomes entangled with a powerful Chicago mob syndicate. What distinguishes the film from ordinary genre fare is Mann’s meticulous, even fetishistic attention to detail. The depiction of burglaries is uber-realistic, lending a bracing verisimilitude to Frank’s "job." Thorin bathes the movie in striking neon-lit visuals, creating a moody, rain-soaked aesthetic that would become a hallmark of Mann’s later work. (Tangerine Dream’s pulsating electronic score further amplifies the dreamlike, propulsive energy.) Caan delivers a career-best performance here, portraying Frank as both tough and achingly vulnerable. His diner monologue with Jessie (a fantastic Tuesday Weld) is a Master Class in understated intensity, revealing a man desperate for a life beyond crime, but tragically bound by its rules. Robert Prosky’s quietly menacing mob boss, Leo, serves as their chilling counterpoint, embodying the inescapable grip of organized crime. More than just a heist flick, "Thief" explores themes of individualism, fate and the cost of freedom. Mann’s stylistic precision, combined with a gripping narrative and brilliant performances make this an enduring classic of the crime genre. It also laid the groundwork for future Mann masterpieces like 1986's "Manhunter," cementing his reputation as a visionary auteur. The new Criterion Collection box set includes both 4K UHD and Blu-Ray discs. Additional extras, most of which are recycled from Criterion's 2014 edition, include Mann and Caan's audio commentary track; stand-alone interviews with Mann, Caan and Tangerine Dream's Johannes Schmoelling; and an essay by former Sight and Sound editor Nick James. (A PLUS.)

THE THREE MUSKETEERS/THE FOUR MUSKETEERS--Richard ("A Hard Day's Night") Lester’s 1973 and 1974 masterworks comprise a sprawling, exuberant adaptation of Alexandre Dumas’ classic novel. Originally conceived as a single film, the project was famously split into two parts during production which allowed for a more detailed, expansive retelling. Taken as a whole, Lester's diptych is a unique blend of swashbuckling adventure, slapstick comedy and unexpected political undercurrents that both honors and subverts the traditional period epic. Lester brings his distinctly irreverent tone to Dumas’ saga. Rather than portraying the musketeers as flawless paragons of nobility, he renders them as fallible, often buffoonish figures operating in a world teetering on the edge of absurdity. Michael York’s D’Artagnan is equal parts earnest and naïve, providing a useful counterbalance to the seasoned but flawed trio of Athos (Oliver Reed), Porthos (Frank Finlay), and Aramis (Richard Chamberlain). Their camaraderie feels natural and is frequently laugh-out-loud funny with constant bickering and improvisational heroics that's a lot closer to Monty Python than Errol Flynn. "Three" sets the tone with its energetic pacing and visual inventiveness. Lester’s penchant for sight gags, anachronistic flourishes and chaotic crowd scenes makes for a brisk, offbeat romp. He eschews the polished grandeur of typical period flicks in favor of muddy streets, drunken sword fights and bungled rescues. The movie positively crackles with the feeling of a world where everyone—courtiers, soldiers, peasants—is in over their heads. In "Four," however, the previously bouyant tone darkens considerably. The consequences of the characters’ actions come to bear, and the story plunges into betrayal, revenge and sacrifice. Faye Dunaway’s Milady de Winter emerges as a tragic, menacing force, and her character arc provides the emotional core of the second chapter. The battle sequences are grimmer, too, as Lester begins probing the cost of loyalty and political intrigue. While still laced with humor, the sequel tempers its levity with pathos, illuminating Lester’s jaundiced view of heroism. A nonpareil supporting cast elevates both films. Charlton Heston delivers a restrained, icy Cardinal Richelieu, a schemer less flamboyant but more politically dangerous than previous interpretations. As Constance, Raquel Welch brings charm and a previously untapped flair for physical comedy to her role, and Christopher Lee's ruthless Rochefort provides an imposing foil without veering into a Snidley Whiplash caricature. Visually sumptuous yet grounded, David ("The Devils," "Out of Africa") Watkin’s supremely tactile cinematography avoids excessive gloss in favor of natural light and immersive mise-en-scène. The sword fights, choreographed with a sense of clumsiness and realism, subvert traditional dueling glamour, reinforcing the idea that violence is a messy and dangerous business. Lester's "Musketeers" movies are not mere costume dramas but satirical, politically tinged adventures that meld old-fashioned thrills with a sly, topical critique. While the "Petulia"/"Robin and Marian" auteur's typically irreverent style may not suit purists, his vision of Dumas’ tale—chaotic, comic and occasionally heart-breaking—remains the most distinctive and enduring screen translation of the classic saga. The newly issued Criterion Collection Blu-Ray box set includes 4K digital restorations of both films; critic David Cairrns' new documentary, "Two for One;" a 1973 featurette ("The Making of 'The Three Musketeers'") with behind-the-scenes footage; the two-part 2002 documentary, "The Saga of the Musketeers," featuring interviews with cast and crew members; and an essay by Time Magazine critic Stephanie Zacharek. (A PLUS.)

WEAPONS--Writer-director Zach Cregger's chilling, ambitious follow-up to his 2022 sleeper "Barbarian" is an ambitious horror flick that takes a deep dive into suburban paranoia and communal grief. Eschewing cheap jump scares for a non-linear, intricately layered narrative, Cregger tells the story of a small town rocked by the unexplained disappearance of an entire elementary school class, an event that triggers a psychological and emotional breakdown among the residents. Julia ("The Fantastic Four: First Steps") Garner anchors the film with a restrained but haunting performance as the soft-spoken schoolteacher whose students vanished without a trace. Local cop Alden Ehrenreich's investigation leads him into increasingly surreal territory, intersecting with several parallel story threads that contribute a different piece to the eerie puzzle. Also very good are Josh Brolin (a reclusive contractor with a troubled past whose isolated existence is disrupted as the town's crisis deepens), Benedict Wong (the school principal under growing suspicion) and Austin Abrams (a disturbed teen who may know more than he lets on). Cregger slowly builds dread as timelines and perspectives shift, generating suspense from the slow collapse of normalcy and the unseen forces that lie behind it. An unsettling, layered and confident piece of filmmaking, it confirms Cregger’s evolution into a leading genre auteur. (A MINUS.)

YOU CAN COUNT ON ME--A masterclass in character-driven storytelling, playwright Kenneth Lonergan's 2000 filmmaking debut is a quietly devastating, richly human portrait of familial bonds, emotional fragility and the complexities of adulthood that ranks among the most affecting American dramas of the early aughts. Anchored by two extraordinary performances from Laura Linney and Mark Ruffalo, it's a small film that continues to resonate with amazing emotional depth. Set in a sleepy Catskills town, the story revolves around Sammy Prescott (Linney), a single mother and bank employee trying to maintain stability for her young son Rudy (Rory Culkin). Sammy's controlled life is disrupted by the return of her estranged brother, Terry (Ruffalo), a drifter with a penchant for self-destruction and a heart that’s too gentle for this world. Their reunion sparks both tenderness and turmoil as they wrestle with shared childhood trauma, diverging life paths and the struggle to truly understand one another. What makes "You Can Count on Me" so remarkable is Lonergan’s refusal to indulge in melodrama. His screenplay is layered with nuance, humor and a deep sense of empathy. The dialogue feels unforced and the emotional beats land with a natural, uncontrived power. As a director, Lonergan favors simplicity, letting his actors’ expressions and silences speak volumes. Linney’s Oscar-nominated performance is revelatory, capturing Sammy’s strength and vulnerability with clarity and grace. Her portrayal of a woman trying to do the right thing—even when she’s unsure what that is—remains one of the finest of her career. In a breakout role, Ruffalo brings a wounded charisma to Terry, creating a character who is infuriating and lovable in equal measure. Their chemistry is undeniable, imbuing their sibling dynamic with history, affection and deep emotional conflict. The supporting cast brings additonalrichness without detracting from the core brother/sister relationship. Matthew Broderick is hilarious as Sammy’s neurotic boss and Culkin gives a tender, unaffected performance that deepens the emotional stakes. With wit, honesty and compassion, Lonergan captures the messiness of real life, how love coexists with frustration and how connection, albeit imperfect, remains a lifeline. It’s that rare drama that feels both specific and universal. Included on the Criterion Collection's Blu-Ray are Lonergan's audio commentary; new interviews with Lonergan, Linney, Ruffalo and Broderick; an essay by playwright Rebecca (Pulitzer finalist "The Glory of Living") Gilman; and the script of the original one-act play the film was based on. (A.)

 ---Milan Paurich