The Skin
At first glance, the stern faces of Marcello Mastroianni, Burt Lancaster and Claudia Cardinale on the cover of Cohen Media’s Blu-ray edition of The Skin made me wonder how come I was unaware of a World War II movie in which all three had appeared. Even after a second, third and fourth glance, I still couldn’t figure out what happened. Released in many key markets during the early 1980s, its presence went largely unobserved in the U.S. and England. Even at the ripe old age of 69, Lancaster was working at the top of his game. He’d just starred in such excellent non-studio pictures as Atlantic City and Go Tell the Spartans, with Local Hero and The Osterman Weekend soon the come. (He had already endeared himself to Italian audiences with 1900, The Leopard and Conversation Piece.) Mastroianni was as popular in the U.S. as he was anywhere outside of Italy and, even at 43, Cardinale’s name was synonymous with sex and femininity, even without appearing topless or fully nude. Because the male leads staring out at us from the cover are wearing the uniforms of their respective countries in World War II, potential viewers could safely assume that The Skin promised some action at the expense of the retreating Nazis. Moreover, director Liliana Cavani had made a big splash a few years earlier with the controversial “porno-gothic” – Pauline Kael’s words – The Night Porter. And, yet, in the ensuing 30-some years since its Italian debut, The Skin has only been shown here at a couple of film festivals. Based on a post-WWII novel (“La pelle”) by the celebrated journalist, dramatist and diplomat Curzio Malaparte, The Skin opens on a high note with the liberation of Naples by Allied troops led by Lieutenant General Mark Clark (or Mark Cork, as the subtitles insist).

Things soon take a Fellini-esque turn when we’re introduced to the character Malaparte (Mastroianni), who looks as if he might have been on his way to the Venice Film Festival, despite having been imprisoned by the Fascist government. Malaparte escorts Clark to his spectacular home on the Isle of Capri, where the famously strong-willed officer basks in the glory of the successful invasion and the fashionable Principessa Consuelo Caracciolo (Cardinale) holds court as if the German occupation had been a malicious rumor, instead of cruel reality. Malaparte will serve as Clark’s guide to Naples, an ancient city that has seen more than its fair share of foreign invaders – the Brits and Yanks only being the latest — and had just helped convince the Nazis to pull back with an insurrection of its own. Nonetheless, the Germans had left the city in dire straits in terms of lack of food, provisions and infrastructure. Here’s where we start to see how American and British distributors might have had a problem with The Skin. What Malaparte chooses to show Clark can be seen in sharp contrast to the greetings Allied troops would receive in Paris and Rome. Because Naples never was much of an industrial center, its populace had little means to support itself after the liberation. In a very real sense, our troops were greeted as consumers first and liberators, second. Most of the men who remained in the city would be assimilated into the Allied thrust north, but, as was the case in Joseph Heller’s “Catch-22, many of the women made money servicing Allied troops, who lined up for blocks for their turns. These scenes are, at once, hilarious and horrifying.

Perhaps the most disturbing scene in Mike Nichol’s adaptation of Catch-22 is the delayed revelation of the irreparable damage done to the guts of an airman wounded during the course of a mission. In The Skin, the nightmare vision is repeated a half-dozen times and it’s not limited to one victim. At a dinner hosted by Naples’ aristocracy, none of whom appear to have missed a step during the occupation, a visiting American dignitary is treated with a freakish seafood delicacy that, until that afternoon, resided in the city’s aquarium. If it doesn’t cause viewers to hit the fast-forward button on their remotes, it’s only because they’ve anticipated the grotesque sight and already puts their hands over their eyes. But, wait, there’s more! In an interview included in the Blu-ray package, Cavani points out a coincidence that isn’t as obvious as you’d think it might be, “Once again, Mostroianni is entrusted with explaining Italy to the world and Naples is like no other city in Italy,” she says, “If the Americans had landed in Milan, it would have been a completely different story.” Blessed with terrific performances by Lancaster, Mastroianni and Cardinale, The Skin describes the carnage of war from the sanitized point of view to which we’re accustomed. It’s certainly not for everyone, however. Even some WWII completists will find it shocking.

Men, Women & Children: Blu-ray
When writer/director Jason Reitman decided to join the movie racket, it quickly became obvious that he wouldn’t be content merely to follow in the footsteps of his father, Ivan, one of the most successful filmmakers of his generation. Such singular entertainments as Thank You for Smoking, Juno, Up in the Air, Young Adult and Labor Day could hardly be more different from Reitman pere‘s early successes, Meatballs, Stripes, Ghostbusters and Twins. If there was a critical niche for issue-oriented dramedies, Reitman fils‘ pictures would have fit right into it. Instead of depending on his own material, he’s collaborated with such noteworthy writers as Christopher Buckley, Diablo Cody (twice), Walter Kirn, Joyce Maynard and, here, novelist Chad Kultgen and screenwriter Erin Cressida Wilson (Secretary, Chloe). A movie that comments on the tyranny of social media, while also speculating on its implications for our children and country, would easily appear to be in Reitman’s strike zone. If Men, Women & Children only results in a long foul ball, at least he deserves credit for taking a crack at such a swiftly evolving topic. What began as a service to link horny Ivy League frat boys to sorority girls and townies responsive to their sterling pedigrees – see The Social Media – has evolved into an insidiously invasive network of sites exploiting our appetite for trivial chit-chat, unreliable gossip, pornography, anonymous bullying and unwelcome huckstering by leach capitalists. By adding a cosmic dimension to the movie’s narrative, however, Reitman anticipates a capitulation to technology that may be more illusory than revelatory. In the tradition of Crash and Short Cuts, “MW&C” merges several interrelated stories in the service of a story that basically argues that we’ve become willing slaves to wireless devices that eliminate the need for face-to-face interaction and anything more human than a widely grinning emoticon.

In “MW&C,” we’re introduced to a high school athlete who’s given up football for social video gaming; a married couple that seeks the companionship they’ve lost in dating websites; a failed actress who creates a pay-site to draw attention to her sexy teen daughter; an anorexic cheerleader obsessed with losing her virginity; a manic mom who monitors her daughter’s every step via digital surveillance techniques; and a lonely teenage boy and girl trapped in a web of missed signals and false information. These desperate middle-class characters, who bounce into and away from each other throughout the film, are well-played by such fine actors as Jennifer Garner, Rosemarie DeWitt, Judy Greer, Dean Norris, Dennis Haybert, J.K. Simmons, a nicely restrained Adam Sandler and a dozen talented teens. The trouble, I think, begins with Emma Thompson’s disembodied narrative, which minimizes everything before us by recalling Carl Sagan’s portentous observations about the triviality of human concerns in an indescribably large and apathetic universe. It’s not as if we needed Sagan’s words to remind us of our relative insignificance in the universe and probably could have been excised completely without viewers missing a single nuance. If an automobile is going to careen off a busy street and crush a random pedestrian, it really doesn’t matter how minute our planet looks from the far reaches of the Milky Way. Even so, Men, Women & Children is the rare film teenagers could watch with their parents and not feel ambushed or demeaned. The Blu-ray adds deleted scenes, including an entire storyline that didn’t make the cut; a featurette that describes how the computer/human interfaces were accomplished; and a superficial discussion of some of the ideas forwarded in the film.

Once Upon a Time in Shanghai: Blu-ray
The Sword of Doom: Blu-ray
The more familiar a viewer is with the evolution of Hong Kong’s martial-arts industry, the more, I suspect, they’ll find to enjoy in Once Upon a Time in Shanghai. Yeah, I know, the title itself, which has been used at least three times in the last 25 years, has been rendered meaningless since the conceit was introduced by Sergio Leone in 1968. Given the number of films in which country boys are forced to use their fists of fury to survive in the mean streets of pre-occupation Shanghai, the title probably could have been attached to a dozen other movies, just as well. In this instance, however, familiarity breeds entertainment. That’s because director Wong Ching-Po elected to surround rising superstars Philip Ng and the American-born Andy On with such familiar genre elders as Fung Hark-On, Yuen Cheung-Yan, Sammo Hung and Chen Kuan-Tai, who played protagonist Ma Yung-Chen in the Shaw Brothers 1972 Boxer From Shantung. (Takeshi Kaneshiro played the same character in Corey Yuen’s Hero.) In Once Upon a Time in Shanghai, country boy Ma has pledged to his mother that he won’t use his powerful right hand to advance his pursuit of prosperity in Shanghai, which is controlled by gangs and smugglers, and the Japanese threat hangs in the air. Friends from the village are able to find work for Ma as a laborer, but it isn’t until he impresses the mob boss Long Qi (On) that he can legitimately dream of reaping his fortune. Their stand against the heroin trade and collaboration with the enemy puts them in direct opposition to the long-established leaders of the Axe Fraternity, who become incensed when shipments are interrupted by the upstarts. Hung plays Master Tai, a venerable community leader who consuls Ma and Qi. All most viewers will want to know going into the movie, however, is if it kicks ass. With Yuen Cheung-Yan and Yuen Woo-ping (The Grandmaster, Kung Fu Hustle) in charge of choreographing the ferocious action sequences, that question borders on the rhetorical. Michelle Hu plays the love interest in the rags-to-riches story. The Blu-ray adds a making-of featurette and English dub track.

Comparisons between American film noir and Japanese crime stories of the 1960s have repeatedly been made, but Kihachi Okamoto’s “The Sword of Doom” is nihilistic enough to suggest that Robert Mitchum, Richard Widmark or Humphrey Bogart might be lingering somewhere in the shadows, waiting to make an appearance. Upon its release in 1966, The Sword of Doom divided fans and critics accustomed to stories that articulated the bushido code and had easily identifiable heroes and villains. In this way, it paralleled the rise in popularity of spaghetti and revisionist Westerns, which questioned traditional values attached to white-hatted cowboys and black-hatted outlaws, while also challenging the goals of manifest destiny. Okamoto’s masterpiece doesn’t go quite that far, but, set during the turbulent final days of shogunate rule in Japan, there is an element of prophesy to the story. (It had been intended as the first chapter in a trilogy, so who knows where Okamoto’s vision might have taken us.) Tatsuya Nakadai (Harakiri) plays the truly sociopathic swordsman Ryunosuke, whose sudden outbursts of violence aren’t limited to rival samurai drawn to his ruthless reputation. As the killer approaches his first victim – an elderly man, separated from his granddaughter on a hike over the mountains — it’s easy to confuse Ryunosuke with some kind of avenging angel. He wears a long black robe and conical straw hat that covers his eyes.

Like any gunslinger on the American frontier, the lightning-fast swordsman draws first and leaves any remaining questions for the townsfolk to answer. He’s cruel to the women in his orbit and lacks respect for all except one samurai peer. That honor belongs to Toshiro Mifune, whose Toranosuke Shimada runs a school for advanced practitioners of the art and represents the integrity of the bushido warrior. He tells his students, “The sword is the soul … evil mind, evil sword.” When Ryunosuke is challenged by a brave student, the fights are more often than not limited to a single thrust and response that’s too quick to see. Sword of Doom also features a pair of elaborately choreographed set pieces, in which the anti-hero is required to take on dozens of opponents simultaneously. As preposterous as they are, the fights are wonderfully entertaining. Shinobu Hashimoto’s screenplay was based on Nakazato Kaizan’s 41-volume historical novel, which encompassed 1,533 chapters and more than 5.5 million Japanese characters. Considered to be one of the longest novels or serializations in any language, it also spawned a dozen other Japanese movies. The Criterion Collection restoration accentuates the brilliant black-and-white cinematography of Hiroshi Murai and adds a comprehensive audio commentary with film historian Stephen Prince and essay by critic Geoffrey O’Brien.

Rye Coalition: The Story of the Hard Luck 5
Thanks, in large part, to the proliferation and affordability of hand-held video cameras, documentaries about the rise and fall of regionally popular rock bands have emerged as something of a cottage industry. The musicians love the attention, while the filmmakers tend to be fans eager for access to their faves. Jenni Matz’s Rye Coalition: The Story of the Hard Luck 5 shares many attributes with previous rock-docs, including home movies, early concert footage and authorized access to the musicians on tour and in the studio. Like most rock enthusiasts of a certain age, the mere fact that the New Jersey “emo” pioneers even existed came as news to me. Apparently, the “emo” distinction put Rye Coalition in the same mid-1990s company with Shellac, Sunny Day Real Estate, Jawbreaker and Karp. It took several years of hard traveling before the band’s indie albums became noticed by such high-profile producers as Steve Albini and they were asked to open for Mars Volta, Queens of the Stone Age and Foo Fighters. Dave Grohl even agreed to produce their first album for Dreamworks Records. Alas, it was a dream destined not to come true. Like the lads in the band, Matz began her journey as a New Jersey teen. She would borrow cameras from the AV department of her school to capture Rye Coalition on stage, where loyal fans were as much of the show as the instruments. It wouldn’t be until the band reunited for 2011 performance that Matz would be able to tie up the loose ends and reclaim the on-hold project. A successful Kickstarter campaign afforded her the three years needed to trim 2½ hours from her first cut. Apart from the band’s longtime fans, musicians in need of a reality check are the likely audience to benefit from Rye Coalition: The Story of the Hard Luck 5.

The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant: Criterion Collection: Blu-ray
Fitzcarraldo: Blu-ray
Looking back to the early 1970s, when the works of Rainer Werner Fassbinder first found their way to these shores, it’s easy to see how mainstream American audiences – such as they might have been — might have been dismayed by what they saw. The leading light in the New German Cinema movement, he was influenced as much by French auteur Jean-Luc Godard as German playwright Berthold Brecht. His early work in experimental theater, which began during a particularly turbulent period in the then-divided country’s history, informed the films he would produce in rapid-fire order until his untimely death in 1982, at 37. The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant, newly restored in 4K Blu-ray by Criterion Collection, represents the period in which Fassbinder became heavily influenced by the Hollywood melodramas of German émigré Douglas Sirk. Made within the strict guidelines of the Production Code, such entertainments as All That Heaven Allows, Magnificent Obsession and Imitation of Life successfully depicted various kinds of middle-class repression and exploitation. No such restrictions were placed on Fassbinder’s works. Margit Carstensen plays the titular protagonist, a high-strung fashion designer whose failed marriages left giant chips on her shoulders. Petra enjoys beating up on her obedient and largely mute assistant/slave, Marlene (Irm Hermann), as they prepare for an upcoming presentation. The balance in their understated S&M relationship is disrupted when a young model, Karin (Hanna Schygulla), visits Petra’s claustrophobic Bremen apartment and immediately seduces the older woman. The balance will shift twice more, at least, during the course of the film, whose setting varies only in the positioning of Michael Ballhaus’ camera. Ultimately, Petra will remind us of fallen star Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard. Historians have pointed out that Petra’s love affair with Karin recalls Fassbinder’s own obsession with a young actor, but that information isn’t essential for any appreciation of the film. His biography is definitely worth checking out, however, if at some other time. The new digital restoration was supervised by DP Ballhaus, who must have been pleased to see his original color palette brought back to life on the Blu-ray. Other bonus features include revealing new interviews with Ballhaus and actors Eva Mattes, Katrin Schaake, Carstensen, and Schygulla; another new interview, with film scholar Jane Shattuc about Fassbinder; the featurette, “Role Play: Women on Fassbinder,” a 1992 German television documentary by Thomas Honickel featuring interviews with Carstensen, Schygulla, and actors Irm Hermann and Rosel Zech; a fresh English subtitle translation; an essay by critic Peter Matthews”

One of the highlights of the 2014 release schedule was Shout Factory’s near-definitive “Herzog: The Collection,” which included 16 films by fellow New German Cinema pioneer, Warner Herzog.  Fitzcarraldo was one of the titles whose first arrival on Blu-ray came in the collection, which ranged in price from about $100 to $159.99. Its arrival in a separate hi-def package has to come as good news for those with the patience to wait a few months, although buffs should find the collection to be well worth the expense. Fitzcarraldo, of course, chronicles one very wealthy man’s obsession with bringing high culture to the barely tamed jungles of the Amazon basin. His seemingly impossible dream requires the conveyance of a large steamboat from one river to another, over a high hill cleared of its vegetation. The scheme is every bit as crazy as it sounds, but the lumber magnate almost pulls it off. It comes at the expense of a tribe of Indians transfixed by the recorded voice of Enrico Caruso and, perhaps, the sheer audacity of Fitzcarraldo’s dream. Klaus Kinski gives an unforgettable performance as the would-be rubber baron Brian Sweeney Fitzgerald, who was based on Peruvian Carlos Fitzcarrald. Herzog’s mad vision and stormy relationship with Kinski resulted in Les Blank’s fascinating documentary, Burden of Dreams.

Two Mothers
Although plenty of movies about the challenges of single-parenthood and infertility have been produced, it hasn’t been until recently that same-gender parenthood, sperm/egg donation and the rights of children conceived artificially have been addressed by mainstream filmmakers. That’s probably a good thing, though, because the studios find it difficult to deal with such issues without falling back on comedy, farce or pathos. In Delivery Man, Ken Scott’s adaptation of his French-language hit, Starbuck, Vince Vaughn plays a man in his 40s whose sperm co-produced hundreds of children now in their 20s. (It’s happened more often than anyone would care to think.) In The Back-Up Plan and The Switch, Jennifer Lopez and Jennifer Aniston, respectively, portray straight women so anxious to conceive a child that they’ll risk using the sperm of a man who, when he isn’t donating blood, supports himself by selling his sperm. The Kids Are All Right takes a more serious tack, as it describes how a lesbian couple played by Annette Bening and Julianne Moore react to their teenage children’s desire to include their genetic father (Mark Ruffalo) in their lives. Lisa Cholodenko’s much-admired film also deals with the fallout of their decision on the women’s already shaky relationship. If Cholodenko had been involved in the creation of Two Mothers, it could very well be described as a prequel to The Kids Are All All Right.

In Anne Zohra Berrached’s extremely relevant drama, a pair of thirty-something German women have reached the point in their committed lesbian relationship that they want to raise a child. While Germany has yet to legalize same-sex marriages, it does recognize “registered life partnerships.” Not completely understanding the bureaucratic distinction between the two, Katja (Sabine Wolf) and Isa (Karina Plachetka) think that conceiving a child via an anonymous sperm donor will be a piece of cake. Instead, it’s the kind of chore one would avoid, if possible. That’s because the government appears to have gone out of its way to prevent gays and lesbians from taking the easiest route to parenthood. After a long, frustrating effort to find a doctor willing to help them conceive, they almost go broke financing a year’s worth of fruitless inseminations. After insisting that they wouldn’t have any formal contact with a donor, they settle on finding one who would agree to their terms and not charge them the going rate for frozen sperm. We know that Katja and Isa are deeply in love and devoted to each other, but the introduction of a male into their relationship, however briefly and strategically, skews the balance between them. At one point, Katja feels so dissociated from the conception process, she feels it necessary to remind Isa, “I want to be the daddy.” The 75-minute Two Mothers ends before we’re given any hints as to the future of the relationship. And, that’s probably for the better, too. Berrached based her story on the experiences shared by lesbian couples in Germany – duly credited at film’s end — and doctors who were required to stop short of actually helping them conceive.

PBS: To Catch a Comet
Capricorn One: Blu-ray
Supernova: Blu-ray
From very far away, a comet heading towards our solar system is difficult to distinguish from a billion other pinpoints of light in the heavens. The larger ones grow ever more visible as they approach our sun, but still resemble stars with tails. Up close, as we witness in PBS’ “To Catch a Comet,” the comet Churyumov–Gerasimenko (67P) is a dead ringer for a jagged and misshapen kidney stone I once passed. That’s just a personal observation, not to be confused with the completely painless scientific data and imagery introduced in the documentary. Astronomers have dreamed of landing on the surface of a comet ever since they were able to identify it as something other than a ball of toxic gas and burning rock. The European Space Agency’s decade-long Rosetta mission probably would have remained an impossible dream if it weren’t for the probes sent to observe Halley’s Comet in its 1986 visit. They were able to provide the first observational data on the structure of a comet nucleus and the mechanism of coma and tail formation. Apparently, the events described in Michael Bay’s “Armageddon” never actually took place, so “To Catch a Comet” also serves as a necessary corrective for sci-fi obsessives. Although the Rosetta mission didn’t inspire the same hyperbolic headlines the manned lunar landing and robotic exploration of the Martian surface – Euros never get the same respect as NASA and the Russkies – its success in orbiting a comet in full flight is nothing short of awe-inspiring. Among its many impressive accomplishments was the ability of Rosetta — a spacecraft the size of a car – to awaken after a 10-year hibernation, in time to pull off the maneuvers necessary to get up-close and personal with the 2.5-mile-wide 67P. It is hoped that the data collected will reveal clues as to the origins of life on Earth and other cosmic mysteries.

When Neil Armstrong planted his bootprint on the surface of the moon, somehow it wasn’t sufficiently realistic to convince everyone back on Earth that the whole thing wasn’t being staged on a soundstage on a military base. It’s probably safe to say that many people doubt the veracity of the Mars mission and Rosetta’s accomplishments, as well. And, who’s to blame them? Can curing cancer be that much more difficult than intercepting a comet or asteroid in space? Six years after NASA stopped sending men to the moon, Peter Hyams’ Capricorn One gave skeptics even more ammunition in their crusade to discredit Armstrong’s “giant leap for mankind.” In it, NASA’s first manned flight to Mars is deemed unsafe and secretly scrubbed on the launch pad. The mission has been hyped to the point where any mishap would be disastrous not only for the astronauts on board the spacecraft, but also the future of the space agency and morale of several generations of Americans. Instead, astronauts played by Sam Waterston, James Brolin and O.J. Simpson are rushed from the launch pad to that clandestine soundstage on a remote military base, where they will simulate the landing. The trickier part will be hiding the ruse from a self-appointed journalistic watchdog (Elliot Gould) and prevent the astronauts from escaping the desert facility and blowing the whistle on a plot that would require their deaths. Adding to the paranoid fun are appearances by Telly Savalas, Hal Holbrook, Karen Black and David Huddleston.

There are long stretches of Supernova when the prevailing blue-and-black color scheme makes it impossible to distinguish who’s doing what to whom. It’s so dark, in fact, a shadowy outline of an undressed Robin Tunney was used to double for a nude facsimile of Angela Bassett’s character. I only know that because I watched the making-of featurette, which amusingly describes how many things can go wrong on a major studio project when the bean-counters take over from the movie guys. The mess is so bad that the estimable Walter Hill demanded his name be dropped and even the last-minute assistance of Francis Ford Coppola couldn’t put Humpty-Dumpty back together. Among the crew members on a medical craft, heading for deep space on a rescue mission, are astronauts played by James Spader, Lou Diamond Phillips, Robert Forster, Peter Facinelli, Tunney and Bassett. Out of nowhere a shrill cry for help “pierces the void.” When the crew responds to “a shrill cry that pierces the void,” they are greeted by an alien creature that puts them on beeline to an exploding star that threatens all life on Earth … or, something like that. Like I said, the best part is the 25-minute post-mortem, but the Blu-ray also adds deleted scenes and an alternate ending.

Who Killed Alex Spourdalakis?
This alarming documentary chronicles the events that led to the 2013 murder of a severely autistic Chicago teen, who, for most of his life, had suffered from painful rashes, stomach lesions, intestinal ailments and uncontrollable fits. The trouble began when he was a child and the medical treatment he received for a seemingly unrelated problem to his autism exasperated a different pre-existing condition. After a short period of normalcy, brought on by a radical change in medication and return to personal care, the symptoms returned. When this happened, Alex Spourdalakis was put on the same regimen as the one that caused the rashes and pain years earlier. In Who Killed Alex Spourdalakis?, we’re told that this included powerful psychiatric and psychotropic drugs designed to treat his unmanageable behavior, first, instead of medications designed specifically to treat the medical condition that wasn’t getting any better. After Dorothy took her soon to New York to consult a doctor more in tune to gastro-intestinal diseases, his condition again improved. The cycle would repeat itself when Alex was taken to a Chicago hospital that followed procedure by treated the symptoms of autisms before considering any fresh attack of the gastro-intestinal problem. When the 250-pound teenager’s condition worsened and his violent outbursts became more than hospital staff could handle, he was strapped to his bedframe 24-hours a day. Finally, when his insurance carrier refused to pay for any more hospitalizations, Alex was sent home to be with his mother, Dorothy Spourdalakis, and caregiver, Jolanta Agata Skordzka, who couldn’t control him, either.

At wit’s end and nowhere to turn, presumably, the women conspired to kill Alex and follow suit by unsuccessfully taking their own lives. (A pet cat also was sacrificed.) Today, they are cooling their heels in a Chicago jail, awaiting trial. Coincidentally, the controversial former surgeon and medical research, Andrew Wakefield, had been following Alex’s plight for a reality-TV series on autism. Thus, the amount of original material included in the DVD. He was not, however, privy to the plans for Alex’s cruel euthanasia. “WKAS?” makes an extremely convincing case that medical science and Big Pharma failed Alex, thereby putting his mother in the untenable position of killing Alex “for his own good.” Their defense attorney likely will argue temporary insanity, a possibility than angers some activists who believe they gave up too soon and took the convenient way out of their troubles. I certainly don’t know what I would have done in the same situation or who I would have believed. The boy’s pain is palpable and hospital reps haven’t been allowed to present their side, ahead of the trial. The film’s biggest weakness, though, is that it refuses to show its entire hand when called. Its detractors believe that producers Age of Autism and Wakefield are playing fast and loose with the facts, by pushing an anti-vaccine agenda and other pseudo-scientific theories without revealing them as such. Without coming out and admitting their biases, the filmmakers are counting on viewers to base their opinions solely on the emotional tug of Alex’s pitiable condition and his killers’ current ordeal. This is an important issue and I encourage anyone planning to watch the movie to also search the Internet for opposing positions.

TV-to-DVd
The Facts Of Life: The Complete Series
PBS: Masterpiece: The Jewel in the Crown
Stingray: The Complete Series; 50th Anniversary Edition
Syfy: Zodiac: Signs of the Apocalypse
PBS: Nature: A Sloth Named Velcro
NYPD Blue: Season 08
Nickelodeon: Dora the Explorer: Dora’s Mermaid Adventures Collection
To paraphrase George Santayana, “Those TV critics who cannot remember past sitcoms are condemned to repeat viewing when complete-series boxes are released on DVD.” Among the comedies I failed to watch the first time through and am was required to check out now in DVD are “The Wonder Years,” “WKRP in Cincinnati,” “Welcome Back, Kotter,” “The Jeffersons,” “Saved by the Bell” and “Mister Ed,” as well as a few that I could re-watch another dozen times, like “The Phil Silvers Show” “The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis” and “The Bob Newhart Show,” among countless other titles. Shout Factory’s nicely restored “The Facts of Life: The Complete Series” falls in the former category, as would that other beloved teen sitcom, “Saved by the Bell.” And, no, I couldn’t possibly watch every single episode contained in every complete-series package and still have time to review anything else. I do know where to find them, however, whenever I’m in the mood for a golden oldie. Like many early DVD and VHS collections, early “The Facts of Life” releases suffered from a shortage of originally licensed music and absence of material trimmed the specifications of syndication interests. Shout Factory and a handful of other distributors have refused to take shortcuts, however. The new boxed set of 27 discs contains something like 99 percent of all previously substituted songs and the audio/visual quality has been returned to tip-top shape, as well. Longtime fans will recall that the series began its network life on NBC as a 1979 spinoff from “Diff’rent Strokes,” where Charlotte Rea originated housekeeper Edna Garrett. After teasing the spinoff series as part of “Diff’rent Strokes” seasonal run, Garrett found new work as a housemother in a prestigious boarding school. Occasionally interspersed with the laughs usually associated with the adolescence of ruling-class kids, the show tackled such non-exclusive issues as weight concerns, depression and loneliness, drugs, alcohol, dating, physical handicaps and sexual awakenings. All were handled in good taste, of course.  It’s always fun to see such future stars as Mindy Cohn, Lisa Whelchel, Kim Fields, Nancy McKeon, Molly Ringwald, Geri Jewell, Pamela Adlon, Jamie Gertz and, lest we forget, George Clooney, get a leg up in a vintage series. In addition to all 201 episodes of the show, the “Facts of Life” package includes the “Diff’rent Strokes” episode in which Mrs. Garrett and the girls of Eastlake Academy were introduced; the TV movies, “The Facts of Life Goes To Paris” and “The Facts of Life Down Under”; featurettes “Remembering ‘The Facts of Life’” and “After the Facts”; a “Know the Facts” trivia game; and the 2014 “Cast Reunion at the Paley Center.”

I probably was working on the night shift in 1984 when PBS affiliates here began running Granada Television’s “The Jewel in the Crown,” one of the great mini-series of all time. At the time, however, I might have been intimidated by the thought of watching 778 minutes of any British historical epic. Last week, though, I eagerly watched all 14 episodes in two sittings. The re-mastered anniversary edition of the landmark mini-series is based on Paul Scott’s “Raj Quartet,” which began as Japanese troops were poised to invade India in WWII and Mahatma Gandhi was rallying his followers in the struggle to end British rule. After a young London-educated Indian, Hari Kumar (Art Malik), strikes up a romance with a young English woman, Daphne Manners (Susan Wooldridge), he framed as being a subversive by the local British police superintendent Ronald Merrick (Tim Piggott-Smith). Their star-crossed affair and Merrick’s brutal repression of it sows seeds that continue to grow throughout the entire series, although in fits and spurts. Subsequent episodes take us back and forth from the front lines in Burma, to the far more placid summer retreats in the shadow of the Himalayas for the bitchy wives of wealthy Brit officers and diplomats. It’s from their viewpoint, mostly, that we’re exposed to developments in the struggle for independence and partition of Hindus and Muslims. The one constant is Merrick’s despicable police supervisor and intelligence officer, who would rather let innocent Indians rot in prison than admit his mistakes. The soapy aspects of the story are eclipsed by the compelling historical drama and political intrigue that impacts all of the characters. All of the exterior settings were shot in Kashmir, Mysore, Simla and Udaipur, India, albeit on 16mm film. The intricacies of the story compensate for any visual limitations. The package adds introductions and postscripts by “Masterpiece” host Alastair Cooke, as well as commentary on four episodes.

In all of the hysteria surrounding the aborted release of The Interview, some theaters considered substituting that controversial comedy with the even more subversive, Team America: World Police, a 2004 movie by “South Park” creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone. Paramount decided that this wasn’t a good idea, though, and vetoed the idea. Lest we forget, Instead of employing Gerry and Sylvia Anderson’s borderline-creepy Supermarionation technique, as was featured in “Thunderbirds” and “Stingray,” Stone and Parker dubbed their version of the puppetry technique, “Supercrappymation.” Unlike the characters we meet in Stingray: The Complete Series; 50th Anniversary Edition,” the marionettes in “Team America” were manipulated by puppeteers who couldn’t be bothered with erasing the wires. Unlike “Thunderbirds,” “Stingray” was largely set in an underwater environment, where the forces of good and evil fought for planetary dominance. As flagship of the World Aquanaut Security Patrol (W.A.S.P.), Stingray is the world’s most sophisticated submarine, capable of speeds of over 600 knots. It is piloted by the square-jawed Captain Troy Tempest (Don Mason), who appeared in all 39 episodes. The enemy submarines look very much like the segmented fish trinkets sold in Greek souvenir shops and which are covered in mother of pearl. The DVD package adds audio commentary on select episodes, a Gerry Anderson biography, a making-of featurette, “The Thing About Stingray,” and a production-stills gallery.

“Zodiac: Signs of the Apocalypse” is the kind of made-for-TV movie that would be out of place on any other network than Syfy. When a mysterious planet crosses in front of the sun, a series of zodiac-linked catastrophes begin to occur around the world. Naturally, when a pair of cutie-pie archeologists (Emily Holmes, Andrea Brooks) discover a stone-carved “astrology board” in a cave in Peru, authorities call upon the last surviving expert in such things (Joel Gretsch) to decipher the symbols and attempt to get ahead of the impending natural disasters. As with too many other Syfy Originals, the CGI and special effects are of the bargain-basement variety and government officials are more dunderheaded than the characters who have spent their lives buying into conspiracy theories. Everybody’s favorite mad scientist, Christopher Lloyd, is on hand to ensure scientific authenticity and few good laughs.

The latest selection from PBS’ “Nature” series is the strangely engrossing “A Sloth Named Velcro,” in which we’re introduced to a species that appears to have defied the laws of evolution and managed to survive, anyway. Reasonably graceful in its navigation of the trees that comprise the Panamanian rain forest’s canopy, sloths more closely resemble a hairy blob with claws when forced to cross a road at ground level. This inability to get out of the way of speeding vehicles has caused them to be endangered in parts of the country where humans are encroaching on natural habitats. Panama has worked hard to protect sloths and other animals that can’t always take care of themselves, especially in places where the expansion of the canal has cut into the wilderness. Our host, Ana Salceda, is a Spanish print and television journalist who moved to Panama 15 years ago to explore the rain forests of Central America. At the time, Salceda couldn’t have imagined that she would become the primary caregiver for a tiny orphaned sloth, which she named Velcro. For nearly two years, the pair would be inseparable. Here, she returns to the reserve to monitor Velcro’s progress. Even by the high standards set by “Nature,” “A Sloth Named Velcro” is bizarre … but, in a very entertaining, family-friendly way.

Season Eight of “NYPD Blue” finds the detectives of the 15^th Squad working out issues from the second half of Season Seven, including Diane Russell being hassled by smarmy undercover narcotics agent Harry Denby (Scott Cohen), and Andy Sipowicz’ concern over the health of his son. Andrea Thompson’s last appearance as the troubled Jill Kirkendall has already come and gone and Garcelle Beauvais’ first appearance as A.D.A Valerie Heywood is looming on the horizon. Later in the season, James MacDaniel will hand the baton of command over to Esai Morales, who is forced to proof himself worthy in the eyes of the men and women. Odds are Rick Schroder and Kim Delaney won’t make it to the end of the season, either.

Nickelodeon’s latest themed collection, “Dora the Explorer: Dora’s Mermaid Adventures,” is comprised of seven seafaring episodes of the popular kids’ show. Here, in a two-DVD set, Dora and Sea Monkey Boots are on a double-length adventure to save Mermaid Kingdome. Bonus features include a pair of music videos, “Clean-Up Song” and “Yo Gabba Gabba.”

The Claire Sinclair Show
Bettie Page is such a singular figure in post-World War II history, anyone woman who attempts to copy here look, personality and style is asking for trouble. Gretchen Mol came real close to capturing Page’s spirit, in The Notorious Bettie Page, but Playboy pin-up model Claire Sinclair could be Bettie’s kid sister and she knows it. In the Erotica Channel’s “The Claire Sinclair Show,” she not only is given an opportunity to pimp her line of Bettie Page-inspired fashions, but also her new show in Las Vegas. She interviews herself on a split-screen stage, explaining when and where her career path began to cross that left behind by Page, long before her death in 2008. Later in the DVD, she interviews Bunny Yeager and models for the near-legendary photographer’s last session. (She would pass away soon after, at 85, on May 25, 2014.) The problem with the DVD is that it looks as if it could have been shot by semi-talented chimpanzees. As cute and bubbly as the ex-Playmate of the Year is here, the production values are that much cheesier.

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