Month: April 2012

Pariah (R, 2011, Universal)
One day in the future, a story like Alike’s (Adepero Oduye) will be just another story about a smart high school girl with awkward adventures in dating, a pest of a little sister, and friends who aren’t well-liked by the parents (Kim Wayans, Charles Parnell) who fight seemingly every night. “Pariah” isn’t allowed to simply be that just yet because Alike is both black and gay, which remains an almost mythical combination in Hollywood, to say nothing of Alike’s neighborhood and conservative household. But the beautiful thing about “Pariah” — even if its name teases otherwise — is that if you’re ready to live in that future right now, it’s equipped to take you there. There are no boisterous declarations of the obvious, nor are there sweeping sermons launched at us under the hollow pretense of being directed at Alike’s supporting characters. “Pariah” treats Alike as the living, breathing jewel of its story instead of a means to an ideological end. That allows her to just be a girl with problems, and it lets her story shine as an intelligent, upbeat and wonderfully grounded story about problems we all can understand on some level. What a crazy concept that is.
Extras: Three behind-the-scenes features.

The Innkeepers (R, 2011, Dark Sky Films)
By their own graveyard-shift admissions, Claire (Sara Paxton) and Luke (Pat Healy) didn’t exactly aspire to work the front desk at The Yankee Pedlar Inn. Fortunately, with the inn set to permanently close down in a few days, they’re both free to resume pursuing their as-yet-unknown callings. First, though, there’s the matter of making one final push to see if the Pedlar really is haunted by spirits as they both suspect it is. With no other employers left to dissuade them and with a whole three guests left roaming the halls, this is as good a chance as any. Naturally, because this is the movies, their suspicions have some validity to them. And if you’re worried that “The Innkeepers” follows the same ghost story outline as numerous others already have, there is some validity to your suspicions as well. But before that validation rides in, “The Innkeepers” does something smart: It sets a tone that’s both playful and darkly funny, and it establishes Claire and Luke as supremely likable goofballs instead of disposable pawns for the poltergeist gods. That vibe endures even when things take a turn for the dark and mysterious, and while a whole lot of “The Innkeepers'” third act feels like a nod to its influences, Claire and Luke have taken so much ownership of the story that it still archives a tense edge against all odds. All that personality doesn’t make isn’t a genre game-changer, but it goes a surprisingly long way.
Extras: Filmmakers commentary, director/Paxton/Healy commentary, behind-the-scenes feature.

Some Days Are Better Than Others (NR, 2010, Palisades Tartan)
There’s plenty of heartbreak to go around in “Some Days Are Better Than Others,” whose title most definitely alludes to days other than these. Some of it is reserved quite acutely for Katrina (Carrie Brownstein), whose curious quest to be on reality TV goes off the rails when a bout of e-mail snooping reveals that the love of her life no longer loves her back. Eli (James Mercer), meanwhile, is coping with the duller, more chronic ache of being in love with his lesbian roommate (Erin McGarry) and completely losing his way en route to finding his calling. Finally, there’s Camille (Renee Roman Nose), whose reaction to finding a discarded urn full of ashes in her goodwill store’s donation pile makes her the wild card. “Days” keeps these three stories mostly separate, and the regularity with which it cycles between them gives it that not-always-welcome air of segregation that makes it feel like three small movies instead of one larger story. But there’s a means to “Days'” methods, and as the stories gradually mesh together, they form a surprisingly poignant parable about heartbreak, how to deal with it and why it might even be good for you. Contrary to the theme, “Days” is stealthily upbeat — perhaps a sign that those better days to which the title alludes lie ahead instead of behind.
Extras: Short film “Light Tiger Eye,” deleted scenes.

Secret War: The Secret Agents who set Europe Ablaze (NR, 2011, Athena)
British Prime Minister Winston Churchill saw the folly in waiting for Adolf Hitler to come to him as Hitler’s army steamrolled through mainland Europe during World War II’s early going. So a year into the war, Churchill’s cabinet deployed the Special Operations Executive, a covert but sprawling resistance movement whose directive — “set Europe ablaze,” as Churchill himself phrased it — is considerably more grassroots in spirit than images of World War II typically conjure. If the operation’s formation, methods, degree of success, legacy and surrounding controversy are of interest to you, some good news: “Secret War,” at 13 episodes and 656 minutes long, almost certainly has answers to questions you had and answers to other questions you didn’t even know to ask. “War” is nothing if not voluminous, with episodes centered around everything from German-speaking Jewish interrogators and New York City mobsters to the phony spy who tricked Hitler and the traitorous French agent who played for as many as three sides. Opportunities for nitpicking abound, particularly with a presentation that occasionally veers erratically between overly dry and needlessly overdramatic, but minor stylistic grievances are a small price to pay for such a metric ton of fascinating stories you may not even know took place. Considering how exhaustively World War II has been documented, that’s the only selling point it needs.
Contents: 13 episodes, plus a 20-page viewer’s guide.

Return (NR, 2011, Focus World)
Well-meaning though it doubtlessly is, the story of the Iraq War soldier returning home and struggling to rediscover normalcy has practically become a genre unto itself over the last few years. One glance at “Return’s” premise — wherein Kelli (Linda Cardellini) returns from Iraq to her husband (Michael Shannon) and two girls, only to discover that resuming old routines is considerably easier said than done — is enough to dismiss it as another good-intentioned also-ran. But a funny thing happens en route to “Return’s” inevitable compilation of breakdowns, tantrums and tear jerks: It doesn’t oblige. To the contrary — and with a brief but invaluable assist from a fellow soldier (John Slattery) who immediately understands Kelli better than every well-meaning well-wisher put together — “Return” very literally rails against the kid gloves with which a lot of media treat this story. That isn’t the same thing as trivializing the story, mind you. Rather, it merely provides Kelli an opportunity to be a character of her own voice instead of an archetype shaped by the perspectives and assumptions of others. She takes advantage of the opportunity, and “Return” emerges as a much fuller picture of this issue as result.
Extras: Director/cinematographer commentary, deleted scenes.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (NR, 1979, Acorn Media Group)
That the movie adaptation of “Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy” managed to journey through John le Carré’s novel with a runtime just short of two hours is impressive. That it did considerable justice to the mess plaguing the British Secret Intelligence Service — a Russian mole embedded in its upper echelon, a delicate operation in Hungary going consequently and violently haywire during the height of the Cold War — is almost miraculous. But providing that justice entailed a dexterous storyline that bandied between multiple timelines and numerous characters freely and frequently, and if you took your eyes off the road for even a scene, getting derailed was easy. Naturally, that’s a problem this six-part, 290-minute miniseries doesn’t have in nearly the same supply. The 1979 treatment of “Spy” remains unapologetically dense, and like the movie, it moves freely between timelines running before, during and after the operation in Hungary. But the miniseries also has room to breathe, and it takes advantage without being wasteful. George Smiley (Alec Guinness), the blackballed retired spy who has been reactivated and tasked with smoking out the mole, uses the extra time to let his true personality blossom. That, in turn, shines a brighter light on the reverence that still burns between George, his cohorts and their suspects — a nod to the good work done previously and the ideals that originally brought them together. The crisis itself naturally gets extra attention —episodes that comprised a scene or two in the movie get literal episodes in this format — but it’s that extra attention to stakes that remains this miniseries’ best asset.
Extras: Deleted scenes, le Carré interview, director interview, production notes, character/term glossary, le Carré bio and booklist.

Cinema Verite (NR, 2011, HBO)
No, MTV did not invent the sensation of reality television with “The Real World.” That honor goes to PBS and Craig Gilbert (James Gandolfini), who put Pat Loud (Diane Lane), her husband Bill (Tim Robbins) and their children in front of the camera for all of America to gawk at in 1973’s “An American Family.” Though dismissed by Gilbert himself as fallacious, “Cinema Verite” nonetheless posits itself as a dramatization of the real story behind the show. And whether it’s telling the truth or not, it hits all those checkboxes a respectable period piece needs to hit with a strong cast, a brisk but attentive script and some careful attention paid to the good music and bad wardrobes of the era. But merits beyond that elude “Verite,” because even if it is 100 percent accurate, it’s still playing in the wrong ballpark. The behind-the-scenes story of television’s first reality show — to say nothing of the backlash its immense popularity inspired — must be a gold mine not only for its human drama, but also the ingenuity and processes that went into the formation of a polarizing new genre of entertainment. “Verite” has some of that, particularly during a closing sequence of scenes that shows us the real Louds and touches on the show’s post-air aftermath. Mostly, though, it’s the story you expect about a crumbling family dynamic and the personal odyssey of a producer whose own family life (presumably) collapsed before he conceived “Family.” “Verite’s” treatment of these stories is considerably competent, but it’s also pretty ordinary, and when you’re talking about the origins of a phenomenon that’s more influential than ever, competence isn’t enough.
Extras: Directors/Lane commentary, behind-the-scenes feature.

Contraband (R, 2012, Universal)
Even the most exciting Super Bowl is considerably less so if you don’t have a horse in the race. If the game’s a dud and you don’t care who wins, you might be hard-pressed to even finish it. By those metrics, watching “Contraband” is akin to being a Vikings fan and watching the Cowboys beat the Bills for the second straight year in Super Bowl XXVIII. As a spectacle, it has its moments, thanks to a couple good chases and a game of hide and seek on the docks. A few tense moments also play well as Chris (Mark Wahlberg), a celebrated but rehabilitated smuggler, returns to his old ways in a frantic bid to protect his family from scoundrels who force his hand. But even “Contraband’s” most spectacularly gripping moments play like a hodgepodge of scenes you might swear you’ve seen at least a few times in a few other thrillers. All these borrowed parts might suffice if the sum of them offered some kind of serious rooting interest, but it doesn’t. Chris pulls double duty as a dull hero and a scumbag who probably deserves the trouble he attracts, his allies (Lukas Haas, Ben Foster, Caleb Landry Jones) come unhinged entirely too easily considering their line of work, and his primary adversaries (Giovanni Ribisi, Diego Luna) are cartoon characters who’d play better as as villains of the week on some sorry CBS police procedural. Without much reason to care, seeing stuff you’ve seen before is, needless to say, not the most exciting use of 109 minutes.
Extras: Director/producers commentary, deleted scenes, picture-in-picture behind-the-scenes features (Blu-ray only), two behind-the-scenes features.

Frozen Planet (NR, 2012, BBC Earth)
If you’re a casual observer of the nature special racket, you wouldn’t be foolish to wonder if maybe — between “Planet Earth,” “Life” and so many other gems — all the sweeping specials that could exist already do. But as was and will again be the case with countless other series that have been and will someday be made, a close look at “Frozen Planet” perishes the thought — and not simply because it’s set in one of the few places on Earth that still feels somewhat uncharted. Have you ever witnessed a hapless, two-terrain battle for survival between a penguin and a sea lion? Or watched a pack of frolicking wolf cubs who would look right at home in the Puppy Bowl were they not battling over the remains of a hare? Have you met the Woolly Bear caterpillar, who spends 14 winters frozen solid before living out his furious final days as a moth? “Planet” sets its stories within the larger context of the Arctic, and its contemporary exploration of the region and the fresh dangers it faces give it all the educational edge it needs. But even without that context’s assistance, “Planet” staggers the eyes with an incredible collection of stories about animals, birds and marine life living magnificently in their element. That well is nowhere near dry, and the six hours we get here fly by in the blink of an eye. David Attenborough (who else?) narrates.
Contents: Seven episodes ( each with a behind-the-scenes “Freeze Frame” feature following the episode), plus a standalone behind-the-scenes feature, 47 video diaries, a greatest moments compilation and an option to view the episodes with the music track only.

Mission: Impossible: Ghost Protocol (PG-13, 2011, Paramount)
Though it’s full of pleasant surprises, “Mission: Impossible: Ghost Protocol” delivers the biggest one almost straight away: It’s funny. In fact, the prison break that springs Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) back into action after a five-year hiatus is as cleverly amusing as action movie hero comebacks get without completely breaking character. Lest we get carried away, “Protocol” is not a comedy. But after “Mission: Impossible III” turned Hunt’s brain into a time bomb and left his wife seemingly for dead, a little levity — even with nuclear launch codes dangerously in play and the Kremlin’s collapse creating a beastly international incident — goes a long way. Whether the time off helped or not, “Protocol” gives off an air of invigoration as it maintains the series’ perfect entertainment record. The big set piece stunts — including Cruise’s much- (and deservedly) discussed glass building scaling — are awesomely, unapologetically over the top, but for every one of those, there’s a close-quarters fight that’s equally entertaining on its own terms. Twists run rampant without devolving into incomprehension, villains skate the edge between cartoonish and cunning, and Hunt’s ragtag crew (Simon Pegg, Paula Patton, Jeremy Renner) makes the good guys more fun to root for than in any previous entrant in this series.
Extras: Alternate opening, deleted scenes, 14 behind-the-scenes features.

Treme: The Complete Second Season (NR, 2011, HBO)
It set itself two months after Katrina, but the first season of “Treme” squared so intimately on its characters that they became the story while the hurricane and its ugly aftermath merely formed the backdrop for their collective comeback. But things aren’t quite so pure with another 12 months in the rear view, and the criminal, political and self-promotional aspects of that badly stalling comeback have settled in to take their toll. “Treme’s” first season took a cue from David Simon’s previous show, “The Wire,” with its miraculous ability to take sweeping, incendiary themes and turn them into deeply personal stories that hit uplifting and even funny notes without betraying their honesty. Season two does that all over again (with another helping of television’s best running soundtrack on board to do its part), but it takes another “Wire” cue by stepping back and panning across a big-picture story that suddenly and unwillingly is stuck in neutral. The new tricks pretty deliberately clash with the old tricks, and while season one wasn’t exactly sunshine and roses, the mood is darker with so many vultures closing in from above. Khandi Alexander, Wendell Pierce, Melissa Leo, Clarke Peters, Steve Zahn, Rob Brown and Kim Dickens, among several others, comprise an outstanding ensemble cast.
Contents: 11 episodes, plus commentary, select music performance commentaries and four behind-the-scenes features.

Shame (NC-17, 2011, Fox)
There’s no way to describe Brandon (Michael Fassbender), “Shame’s” primary person of interest, without resorting to some measure of cliche. You can blame Brandon himself for that, because he is, in fact, a walking cliche — a well-dressed, successful Manhattanite who can drag a woman into bed almost reflexively but cannot remotely connect with another person if his whole vapid life depended on it. Were this a romantic comedy or a lukewarm drama, this is the part where Brandon would meet a beguiling woman who shoots him down until he magically changes his ways. And Brandon’s sister Sissy (Carey Mulligan), who invites herself to move into his apartment after she runs out of places to go? She’d be the wise-cracking sibling who eventually puts him in his place with a killer third-act monologue. But “Shame” isn’t conventional, and Brandon is such a raging disaster of unsorted, indiscriminate disgust that his story barely qualifies as a story. The crazily unstable energy with which “Shame” rambles forward (and backward, sideways and in circles) is bound to polarize. Is the scene wherein Sissy slowly croons Sinatra a striking example of storytelling without telling, or is it simply an insufferably pretentious waste of five long minutes? Are the scenes that elevated “Shame” to a very questionable NC-17 rating necessary (sidebar: how does torture porn routinely get an R while this somehow goes too far?), or could the same story come through without doting on imagery? Probably not, but “Shame’s” vivid picture of Brandon’s smoldering psyche certainly leaves itself open to debate. Whether you love how bold it is or despise the airs it puts on, you’ll be hard-pressed to call it ordinary. No extras.

Bob’s Burgers: The Complete First Season (NR, 2011, Fox)
There’s a modest but heartfelt pocket of people who love “Home Movies,” “Archer” and other dryly funny cartoons that don’t quite play by network television’s broad rules of comedy. “Bob’s Burgers” somehow finagled its way onto network TV, but if you’re a proud member of that pocket, your affinity for it will subconsciously activate before the first episode’s first minute has ticked by. “Burgers” very obviously comes courtesy of some of the brain trust responsible for “Movies” and “Dr. Katz, Professional Therapist,” and if the illustration and writing style don’t completely give that away, H. Jon “Coach McGuirk/Sterling Archer/Ben Katz” Benjamin providing the voice for Bob should end all doubt. Some concessions are made to accommodate “Burgers'” place in Fox’s Sunday night lineup: Bob, like Homer Simpson and Seth MacFarlane’s trio of family dads, is a bumbling husband and father of three strange kids (all of whom live in an apartment atop his struggling burger joint), and some episodes force the writing’s hand with wacky premises that play for easier laughs. But even when it stoops and panders, “Burgers'” maintains that dry quality that sets it apart from the norm. And when it does what it does best and engages in a sandpapery stream of dialogue that may not necessarily have anything to do with the wackiness encircling it, it embodies everything some of us love about a very unlikely sub-genre that keeps on thriving.
Contents: 13 episodes (commentary on all), plus the original pitch demo (with intro), audio improv outtakes, a short piece about the “burger of the day” gag and a music video.

The Last Rites of Joe May (NR, 2011, Tribeca Film)
Pneumonia — and the long hospital stay it entailed — was bad enough. But recovery and release may be even worse for Joe May (Dennis Farina), who returns to his neighborhood to discover his home occupied and pretty much everybody he knew having moved on from him as if he’d died. Perhaps that’s righteous penance for a guy who spent a lifetime hustling and scheming toward his present desolate existence, but still, that’s kinda rough, no? Besides, Joe at least means well. That goes as well for “The Last Rites of Joe May,” which can’t really claim points for conceptual ingenuity. Joe is a prototypical has-been hustler, and if you’re familiar with the particular qualities Farina imbues into his characters, you’ve got this character figured out before his story even starts. But part of “May’s” charm comes from the fact that everyone else — Joe reluctantly included — has him figured out as well. The story isn’t about the story so much as it is about Joe (and, specifically, what the world looks like through the eyes of a someone whose lack of direction is no longer exciting or liberating), and the aforementioned predictability allows “May” to leave a lot of things emphatically understood even when left unsaid. Jamie Anne Allman also stars.
Extras: Director interview, outtakes.

The Divide (R, 2011, Anchor Bay)
Roughly halfway through “The Divide,” it hits you: The movie’s very first scene — wherein Eva (Lauren German) watches nuclear warheads crush Manhattan from her apartment building’s window before getting pulled into the basement by a throng of neighbors running for cover — is by far its best. Then, following the second half, another revelation: That mostly weak first half was by far the better of the two. “The Divide” is, ostensibly, a story about surviving a disaster that catches everyone unaware and forces people to trust each other with what they have, lack, know and don’t know. Briefly, that seems like enough, especially when an outside force teases an intriguing turn of events. But this tease is the first of several that never really materialize during a first half in which our confused group of survivors turns into unlikable pack of scoundrels and idiots. It only gets worse the longer “The Divide” carries on, and the second half finds our group of scoundrels degenerating further into inhuman lunatics who derive enjoyment from gleefully and brutally abusing one another. If you’re intrigued by “The Divide’s” pretense about being a story of survival, here’s your warning: It is no such thing, but rather just another cheap excuse for aimless torture of one by another. That it tries to regain that first-scene promise during its closing moments is a pitiful stab at what might have been.
Extra: Cast/director commentary.

Being Elmo: A Puppeteer’s Journey (PG, 2011, Docurama)
There is no twist or secret to the journey Kevin Clash took from the day he turned his father’s coat into a puppet to the ah-ha moment that elevated a nearly-discarded puppet into the biggest sensation on Sesame Street. Clash’s ascent was — as ascents almost always are — a confluence of talent, passion, curiosity, sacrifice, selfless heroes and a relentless work effort that creates rather than awaits luck. But reinforcements of every generic lesson your parents and teachers peached about working hard and believing in yourself is rarely so joyously presented as it is here. Though most certainly a Cinderella story, “Being Elmo” cultivates its magic from the most unglamorous dregs of dream realization and the creative process, and though Clash never expresses it himself, the dues he paid shine though in the reflections of those who raised, discovered, tutored, collaborated and formed a new generation of dreamers who idolize and learn from him. If you’ve been where Clash has been or are there right now — within any profession and while hanging onto dreams of creating something wonderful in any medium — this isn’t to be missed.
Extras: Sundance Premiere Q&A with Clash and filmmakers, thoughts from the filmmakers, Tau Bennett (that name will mean something to you after you see the film) performing in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, interview with John Tartaglia (who, among other things, is Clash’s Elmo understudy).

The Iron Lady (PG-13, 2011, Anchor Bay)
The Oscar checks out, because Meryl Streep most definitely brings her A-game as Margaret Thatcher in “The Iron Lady.” Unfortunately, her vehicle doesn’t quite bring one of its own to match. “Lady” weaves together two separate chronologies to present two biopics in one — one moving traditionally forward to recount the highlights of Thatcher’s rise and fall as Britain’s longest-serving prime minister of the 20th century, the other standing still in the present as an elderly and slightly senile Thatcher ruminates about her past and argues with the ghost of her dead husband (Jim Broadbent). The decision not only to go there but visit often and stay awhile — “Lady” divides its time evenly between then and now — is a bold step outside the typical biopic-by-numbers methods. In fact, the scenes where Thatcher rages against her newfound dependency on others and unloads her angst on a ghost who growls back represent the best work the movie does at breaking walls down between its subject and audience. But once the point is made early, subsequent visits border on brazen tearjerker excess. And while Streep’s talent pulls those scenes back from the brink of overkill, they linger along that edge long enough to occasionally call their purpose into question. The more traditional look at Thatcher’s career subsequently suffers when it’s given half the time to do a whole movie’s job. “Lady’s” ultimate message resonates enough to convey its vision of Thatcher’s drive and humanity, but it’s stretched too thin to give that vision its full due. Alexandra Roach also stars as a young Thatcher.
Extras: Five behind-the-scenes features.

Into the Abyss (PG-13, 2011, Sundance Selects)
Time stands completely still during the fifth chapter of “Into the Abyss.” There, Fred Allen — the former captain of the Walls Unit Death House in Huntsville, Tex., and an overseer of more than 125 executions during his tenure — tells an eight-minute story about the execution that finally wrecked his ability to even endorse capital punishment, much less engage in it. Watching Allen unload his burden almost redeems “Abyss'” price of admission all by itself. Arguably, it has to do exactly that. The notion of an unvarnished look at capital punishment through Werner Herzog’s unique filter of compassionate but uncomfortable bluntness is enormously intriguing, and in flashes, this documentary demonstrates why. But “Abyss” parlays its premise into a heavy focus on a trio of murders that sentenced two people to death row, and the fallout from the case’s aftermath — with regard to the victims’ families, one alleged killer’s (also incarcerated) father, a woman who fell in love with the other alleged killer while fighting for his innocence — takes hold of the movie. Herzog is the master of calmly and warmly asking brutally uncomfortable questions that regularly get answers, and the conversations he has on film are enthralling in their explorations of everything from regret over choices not made to a paralyzing fear of answering the telephone in case more bad news awaits on the other end of the line. But a lot of “Abyss” also comes down to people pleading cases the movie can’t crack, and the actual process of capital punishment receives surprisingly little direct attention beyond Allen’s scene. If that’s what brought you here, what awaits may disappoint in spite of how well it’s presented. No extras.

The Terror Experiment (NR, 2010, Anchor Bay)
Were “The Terror Experiment” a defendant on trial, its lawyers might plead that their client is a victim of circumstance — a movie about zombies and terrorism that unwittingly got lumped into a crime wave of shoddy movies about zombies and shoddy movies about terrorism. Fleetingly, you might be sympathetic to the cause, because “Experiment’s” main protagonist — Cale (Jason London), a divorced dad whose wife works in the same building and whose daughter attends daycare there as well — is considerably more likable than your typical terror/zombie movie lead. He also isn’t alone, thanks to a respectably likable agent (Alicia Leigh Willis as Mandy) who happens to be interviewing for a job just as a government experiment gone wrong unleashes a miniature zombie apocalypse and sends the building into lockdown. But beyond the semi-novel concept of tolerable people in a zombie film, “Experiment” is hopelessly bankrupt in the idea department. Its concepts about zombies are plain as they come, and at this point, the notion of the attack being the work of patriots — per usual, to “save” America’s soul by rooting out its secrets — is more tired than movies about attacks from abroad. “Experiment’s” subplots fare no better: If any of the twists surprise you, then congratulations, because you’re probably watching your first movie and it only gets better from here. Though never unpleasant enough to be offensive, “Experiment” arguably shows nerve simply with its full-scale contentedness to do nothing countless other movies in two separately saturated genres haven’t done ad nauseam over the last 10 years alone. Earnest script or not, there’s no defending that.
Extra: Director commentary.

Hidden (NR, 2011, Entertainment One)
Brian (Sean Clement) never cared much for his mother when she was alive, which is why he didn’t pay her respects after she passed. But even his disdain didn’t stop her from leaving him an entire monastery, which she’d converted into an addiction treatment center while conducting shady genetic experiments under the table. Those experiments led to a device — buried deep in the bowels of the monastery, of course — that’s capable of eradicating any addiction by manifesting it as its own living being. Naturally, as “Hidden” details in its first scene while Brian’s mom is still alive, the side effects of such a machine are dangerous and most likely deadly. Also a matter of course: pretty much everything else about “Hidden,” which takes a wild idea and fully squanders it on yet another movie about pretty people exploring a creepy abandoned building that was abandoned for good reason by a woman who also died for good reason. No one in “Hidden’s” cast of would-be victims is overly likable, and the shoddy cast struggles to deliver on archetypes and back stories — the awkward reunion with the ex, the friend who sees dollar signs in the monastery, the damsels in distress whose only abilities are crying, berating and relentlessly hurtling toward peril — that are painfully textbook. But “Hidden’s” most unfortunate victim is its own hook, which is silly but rife with fun sci-fi possibilities. It mostly goes to waste, and when it finally takes center stage, it’s merely a convoluted vessel for the twist you saw coming an hour ago. No extras.

We Bought a Zoo (PG, 2011, Fox)
Benjamin Mee’s (Matt Damon) wife has passed away, his teenage son (Colin Ford) just got expelled, and his young daughter (Maggie Elizabeth Jones) finds the city too loud for her liking. But when Benjamin decides it’s time for a fresh start in the country, even he — adventure journalist by trade though he is — doesn’t know what to do when the large and surprisingly cheap plot of land he falls in love with comes with a dormant but full-blown zoo attached. Obviously, as the title infers, and much to his daughter’s glee, he buys the zoo. Not so obvious is how he’ll restore it, reopen it and retain the employees (Scarlett Johansson, Angus Macfadyen and Patrick Fugit, among others) who have continued working there for free in hopes of a new owner swooping in to save it. If you’re cynically inclined, perhaps you think you have “We Bought a Zoo” — which comes based on the real Benjamin Mee’s memoir of the same name — completely figured out. If so, good for you. But if you’ve pegged “Zoo” as two hours of predictable schmaltziness, you’ve pegged it wrong. It’s genuinely funny, sometimes dryly and bitterly so. And it’s cathartically harsh, credibly heartbreaking, a little bit sassy and just a little bit cynical itself, thanks for asking. There’s nothing neat about buying a zoo, and while “Zoo” knows exactly which buttons it’s pushing, it’s keenly aware of the buttons everyone expects it to push. If you pegged it as a feel-great story that truly leaves you feeling great without taking manufactured measures to do so, congratulations: You have it figured out after all.
Extras: Director/editor commentary with JB Smoove (who has a small but very memorable part), behind-the-scenes feature.

War Horse (PG-13, 2011, Disney)
Fueled by pride, and perhaps alcohol, Ted Narracott (Peter Mullan) dearly overpaid at auction for a horse who isn’t even built to do the job for which he needed a horse in the first place. Think his wife (Emily Watson) is gonna be mad about that one? Oh yeah. But Ted’s son Albert (Jeremy Irvine) has grand plans for the horse, henceforth named Joey, and until the onset of World War I compels Ted to sell the horse for profit to the British cavalry, the two are inseparable friends. Clearly, as the title implies, “War Horse” is headed for darker times once the war overturns the lives of every character within. But “Horse’s” first act sets a tonal precedent — as amusing, endearing and fun-loving as it is dark and dramatic — and it’s a tone that endures as Joey hoofs it from one relationship and adventure to the next. “Horse” leaves itself open for all manner of criticism: At 146 minutes, it’s longer than it needed be, and even with all that storytelling room, it occasionally feels rushed in its effort to transition from one chapter of Joey’s life to the next. But Joey provides “Horse” all the consistency — and, really, charm — it needs with his constant, commanding presence at the center of everything. When the focus is on him and not everything that’s exploding and going sideways around him, the minutes melt away, and while the sum total of his life experiences is too crazy to believe, it’s a whole lot of fun to believe it anyway.
Extras: Seven behind-the-scenes features.

Eagleheart: Season One (NR, 2010, Adult Swim)
U.S. Marshall Chris Monsanto (Chris Elliott) has watched at least three partners die on his watch — and all, unbelievably, while facing off against the same criminal mastermind. Rather than, say, throw him off the force, Monsanto’s superiors try a radical new idea and give him two partners (Maria Thayer and Brett Gelman) instead of the usual one. They must be on to something, because not only is the mastermind dead roughly 10 minutes later, but so are numerous other villains in the 11 short episodes that follow. “Eagleheart” sort of feels like a parody — of 1980s crime dramas, of police procedurals in general, of human behavior as a whole and of Elliott’s own career up to now. But it’s also an Adult Swim show, which means it has to cram everything into an 11-minute window so densely packed that its energy goes beyond parody and into total hysteria. It’s crass, bloody and jubilantly stupid, but it’s so supremely confident in its stupidity as to be sharply, hilariously brilliant. Chris Elliott detractors need not apply — of course — but this might be his most gloriously dumb body of work yet.
Contents: 12 episodes, plus 20 commentary tracks (not a typo), scenes from the unaired pilot (with Conan O’Brien), deleted scenes, outtakes, NY Comic Con panel footage and a kill reel.

Bob: The Complete Series (NR, 1992, CBS)
Bob Newhart once joked on “The Tonight Show” that, in the wake of “The Bob Newhart Show” and “Newhart,” his next show would have to be called “Bob” to maintain order. Sure enough, it was — which may be news to you if you’re one of the many who apparently never knew it existed. “Bob” lasted 1 1/2 rocky seasons on CBS, and this complete series set offers a morbidly enjoyable chance to watch a network executive-instilled retooling completely doom a show at the flip of a switch. (If you’re wondering when Betty White shows up, just skip to disc four; she’s part of the second season’s near-total cast overhaul.) History lesson aside, the turbulence is a real shame: When left to its own devices, “Bob” is every bit as funny (albeit differently so) as Newhart’s other shows. As cartoonist Bob McKay, Newhart also gets to play a slightly different version of his usual character — a little bit underhanded, more prone to creating mischief than simply haplessly witnessing it — without betraying the brand of comedy for which he’s known. Even the onset of early-1990s edge can’t mess up someone so timelessly funny. Think of this set as the 25 bizarro-world episodes of “Newheart” you never saw, and suddenly “Bob” feels like a pleasant surprise more than just another network television cautionary tale.
Contents: 33 episodes, plus an interview with White and a digital copy of McKay’s “Mad-Dog” comic book.

Regular Show: Slack Pack (NR, 2010, Cartoon Network)
The name is so mundane as to be funny in its own right, but “Regular Show” has a point: If Mordecai wasn’t a blue jay and Rigby wasn’t a raccoon — and if their neighbors and co-workers didn’t include a yeti, a Frankenstein’s monster and a short-tempered anthropomorphic gumball machine — this would be just another show about two lazy 23-year-old groundskeepers who hold onto their jobs despite constantly abandoning them to embark on crazy adventures. Yep. Past the fact that those adventures take the gang to the moon, into the multiverse, on the back of a flying duck and inside a 1980s cell phone, it’s just another show about slackers getting by. “Regular Show” is, like its Cartoon Network sibling “Adventure Time,” wonderfully good at finding and mining the vast middle ground between a cartoon suitable for Saturday mornings and the unscrupulous ball of terror only Adult Swim can safely contain. Traces of stoner comedies are everywhere, but the exterior is so charming and the adventures so grade school juvenile that “Show” (which, it should be noted, is also legitimately funny) is that rare show that has true all-ages appeal. Unfortunately, and also like “Time,” Cartoon Network is making you wait for proper season sets. “Time” is finally getting its first season release in July after producing two compilations similar to this one over the last six months, so if you’re not interested in buying these episodes again later, some patience should serve you well.
Contents: 12 episodes, plus a short.

The Double Hour (NR, 2009, Flatiron Film Company)
“You look better with your hair down” is the last thing a hotel guest says to chambermaid Sonia (Kseniya Rappoport) before she jumps to her death moments later. Sadly for Sonia, the guest she barely knew isn’t the only one who feels this way about her hair. “The Double Hour” closes out its first act as a story about a speed dating connection between two people (Sonia and Guido, played by Filippo Timi) who bond over separately horrible days, and it begins act two with a robbery that disrupts what should have been a quiet date in the woods. Each of these events is connected by more than simple luck run awry, and spoiling even the early twists would give away too much. Vaguely speaking, “Hour” merits close study with the way it rearranges its developments — the “things aren’t always as they seem” tag enthusiastically applies — and the movie pays off countless little early details with a slew of revelations that trickle down during its second half. The only problem? The one place it plays the coy card without fully paying it off — during its very last batch of scenes — is the one place you least want that to happen. The ending isn’t so flat as to sour all that precedes it, but it leaves a bitter taste just the same. In Italian with English subtitles.
Extras: Deleted scenes, behind-the-scenes feature.

Chasing Madoff (NR, 2010, Cohen Media Group/MPI)
You know that episode of “The Simpsons” where Mr. Burns submits an absurdly self-aggrandizing autobiographical movie to the Springfield Film Festival? Replace Monty Burns with Harry Markopolos and cut the budget by 90 percent, and here’s the real-life equivalent. “Chasing Madoff” is a documentary about how Markopolos, a securities analyst, and a small circle of peers called shenanigans on a Ponzi scheme that would unravel 10 years later during the 2008 financial crisis. As a story about Bernie Madoff and the bizarre firewall that protected him, Markopolos’s point — that any 30-minute review of Madoff’s trading records could have brought him down, full stop — is incredible. But this point is the only point on offer by “Madoff,” which spends precious little time exploring Madoff himself and entirely too much time letting Markopolos salute himself. “Madoff” largely is a talking head fest, with Markopolos and others addressing the camera head on. But in a bizarre reach for presentational flair, it complements these scenes with interstitials in which Markopolos basically dramatizes himself. Markopolos, you might be surprised to hear, cannot act, and “Madoff” only gets weirder the longer he carries on about the many ways he was ready for a literal shootout against Madoff’s people and even agents of the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission. If everything Markopolos did to deaf ears is true, it’s understandable why he wants his recognition. But when you come for some insight and instead get a creepy victory lap and a terrible thespian demo reel, it’s a disservice to the effort than a celebration.
Extras: Director commentary, alternate ending, deleted scenes.