All hail Paul Verhoeven, as the 1987 sensation, ROBOCOP, makes its grand Blu-ray debut

Only the other day I was complaining about an unusually poor Blu-ray transfer from the almost-always excellent distributor, Arrow Video. The firm more than makes up for that faux pas with the release it has coming out next week: a sleek new Blu-ray of the groundbreaking sci-fi/action/satire ROBOCOP.

Though beaten to release by James Cameron's The Terminator three years earlier, that film (still the best by far of all the Terminator movies) did not have Robocop's sterling social satire and anti-Capitalist stance, via screenwriters Edward Neumeier and Michael Miner and its internationally acclaimed director Paul Verhoeven.

Mr. Verhoeven (shown at right) doesn't pile it on here as much as did in his later Starship Troopers, but the satire still sparkles and penetrates. From the first scene of a television newscast (these just don't change much over the decades, do they?) through our trip to corporate America and its plan to eviscerate society by pretending to help us, the movie is often simultaneously violent and hilarious, as was/is often Verhoeven's wont.

And don't worry if the image during that and other newscasts seems low-def. So will the scenes involving computer screens and imaging (as below). But once we leave TV and technology screens behind, the rest of the movie's narrative -- seen in utter hi-def sharpness and juicy chrome-bred colors -- proves amazing and a joy to view.

The tale here is one of a would-be corporate take-over and privatization of Detroit's police force. The movie was released during the British "reign" of Margaret Thatcher, during which privatization became a kind of holy watchword, with the fall of British unions the sad byproduct. (Or maybe privatization was actually the byproduct of union demise.)

The introduction of a new policing machine (above) at film's beginning is both funny and horrific, and Verhoeven's and his writers' wit and humor are further seen when this same machine, later in the film, must negotiate a flight of stairs.

The cast is aces, too. In the leading roles, Peter Weller (above), as the rookie cop who soon becomes robo and Nancy Allen as his policing partner could hardly be bettered. Weller spends much of his screen time behind his robocop attire (below), but there' no mistaking those luscious lips.

Ms Allen (above, left, and below), far too infrequently seen after her role in Dressed to Kill -- movies just didn't seem to know what to do with her or how to best use her -- brings enormous humanity to the film (and to robocop himself), and she's a treasure to watch in action. (There a very nice close-to-present-day interview with the actress among the enormous Bonus Features on one of the discs in this two-disc set.)

Verhoeven knows when to give us down-and-dirty action and violence. But he also understands less is more, just as he does the occasional need for more is more. His pacing is on the mark, and his excellent use of lost memory (and how to give this to us on screen) remains about as good as we have yet seen, even after the many times we've by now endured this Oh, gosh, I'm starting to remember! routine.

Dan O'Herlihy, Kurtwood Smith, Miguel Ferrer (horizontal, above, in the third photo from top) and Robert DoQui lead the fine supporting cast, but the film's ace-in-the-hole is probably Ronny Cox (above), who plays the smartly tailored, extremely nasty villain with just the right combination of relish and disdain.

As with almost all the Blu-ray of Arrow Video, the Bonus Features are plentiful, but Arrow has  really outdone itself here: TrustMovies counted a total of 32 (you can peruse them all by clicking here and scrolling down).

Distributed in the USA via MVD Entertainment Group/MVD Visual, Robocop hits the street this coming Tuesday, November 26, in both a Blu-ray limited edition and a Blu-ray Steelbook edition -- for purchase (and I hope, somewhere, for rental, too).

Maurice Pialat's masterpiece? Maybe. In any case, VAN GOGH is certainly among his best

In its new and sensationally beautiful and crisp Blu-ray transfer, Maurice Pialat's homage to the bourgeoisie's "favorite painter," Vincent van Gogh, is considered by some to be this French filmmaker's masterpiece. In the humble opinion of TrustMovies, however, Pialat never quite produced a masterpiece. His films, though some of them are very good, fall short of that exalted mark. Even so, VAN GOGH, released in 1991 and now available here in the USA on home video -- thanks to the efforts of the Cohen Film Collection -- is certainly the best of any of Pialat's work that I have so far seen.

As we might expect from most other of Pialat's work, the late filmmaker (shown at left, on set) gives us the man above the artist, while still taking in that art and van Gogh's commitment to it. Behavior is paramount here, with the signature Pialat style -- near-documentary -- on display at its best, which means enormous attention to detail and character, discovered via action, dialog, and all the oddball life going on around Vincent himself. The film begins with his arrival via rail in Auvers-sur-Oise, which he calls "a charming town" and from his garret window provides him a small, choice view.

As played by that superb French actor Jacques Dutronc -- above, who has proven himself over the years to be especially fine in crime drama (Toutes peines confondues) and may here have found his finest role -- van Gogh comes alive in ways not seen previously in films about the artist: certainly not in Lust for Life, and not even, I think, in Robert Altman's very good version, Vincent & Theo, in which Tim Roth was able to go bananas (and quite impressively, of course) as the tortured artist. That latter film's release and minor success in the USA may have helped preclude the release of Pialat's version on these shores the following year.

M. Pialat disdains melodrama to concentrate on plain old behavior, including the quieter moments that build character and event from the inside out. These includes everything from interactions with landlord, doctor, family (brother Theo and wife) to of course the various love/sex interests such as that doctor's daughter (Alexandra London, above) and a local whore (given great energy and not a little depth by the wonderful Elsa Zylberstein).

Théo is played with a moving combination of love and frustration by Bernard LeCoq (above, left, in an enchanting and filthy scene in which van Gogh recites a Toulouse-Lautrec limerick, complete with dirty visuals).

There are enough moments here in which women's need to come out from under the shadow of men may have you thinking that Pialat had grown a feminist conscience. We see this in at least three of the females on view: the doctor's daughter, Marguerite; the whore, Cathy; and another of the whores who wants to be a painter, too. ("No, you're a model," van Gogh curtly explains to her.)

From the village idiot (who asks our man to capture him on canvas) to a prolonged line dance (above) in the music hall/bordello, this movie teems with life. Toward its conclusion, the story necessarily gives way to more and more bad behavior on Vincent's part and accompanying melodrama.

But even then, Pialat generally opts for the behavior over the drama and so spares us some of the usual cliché, even if he is unable to finally serve up the kind of powerful, commanding conclusion we might want. Maybe it's better we don't get this and instead are left with more of the man and less of the "tortured artist."

The film runs a very long two-hours and 39 minutes, yet not one of those minutes will bore. Each is too full of life. From the Cohen Film Collection, Van Gogh hits the street today, Tuesday, July 12, on Blu-ray and DVD. The Blu-ray contains two discs -- one of the film itself, the second featuring interviews with actors Dutronc and LeCoq, its cinematographer, and French director and fan of the film Xavier Giannoli (of Marguerite fame).

Girdler/Sheldon's early Pam Grier movie, SHEBA, BABY makes its Blu-ray debut

Ah, the irony! For those of us who've been longtime fans of black actress Pam Grier -- from her early days making blaxsploitation films through her more recent work -- the announcement that one of those early films, SHEBA, BABY, would become available in Blu-ray format seemed cause for rejoicing. That the transfer provided by distributor, Arrow Video, looks at least as good as the movie did when it hit theaters back in 1975, simply adds to the delight.

The only problem? The movie mostly stinks. Though this critic had seen all of the early Grier films at the time of their original release, the several decades in between now and then has allowed memory to grow dim. Though I believe that Coffy still holds up as the best of the bunch, followed by Foxy Brown, Sheba-Baby is an alternately silly and shoddy misfire. The reason can be summed up in two words: Jack Hill.

Mr. Hill, who was not involved in this film, was the writer/director of Grier's best early films, including the two mentioned above, along with The Big Doll House and The Big Bird Cage, and he understood how to make fast-moving, funny, exciting and -- yes, enjoyably campy -- exploitation movies. This was not the case with William Girdler (shown at left), the fellow entrusted to make Sheba, Baby, a movie that, more than anything else, simply dawdles its way along. We waste oodles of time merely getting places: walking, waiting on the elevated subway, riding in cars. What should take two or three seconds to establish goes on for 20 or 30. From the opening credits onwards, this kind of low-wattage vamping builds up until we're bored stiff. (Granted movies move faster these days than they did back then, but Girdler gives us nothing interesting to look at during all of his vamping.)

Not to speak ill of the dead (Girdler was killed in a helicopter crash in 1978, after finishing his final film), but in whatever genre you'd want to place him, this filmmaker was a third-rate hack. His action scenes are execrable, his sense of pacing mediocre, and the performances he draws from his casts are uneven to say the least. The most enjoyable job here comes from Christopher Joy (above, right) as one of the several fellows Sheba must question to get to Mr. Big (played with proper smarmy self-satisfaction by Dick Merrifield, below, right).

Plot-wise, the movie has to do with white overlords using their black henchmen to do dirty deeds to good, law-abiding blacks -- destroying their businesses in order to claim the insurance (at least, I think that was what was going on). Basically this is just an excuse for some so-so violence and bloodletting that gives Ms Grier the chance to strut her stuff --- which she does less well here than under the direction of Mr. Hill.

She does however, get to wear some nifty outfits, one after another, and she and her beautiful, sexy body and face, look sensational at all times. If this is enough for you, by all means, rent or purchase the new disc. Otherwise it's for Grier completists only.

On the disc's EXTRAS, there are a couple of good or at least funny interviews: one with movie historian Chris Poggiali regarding Ms Grier's years at American International Pictures; the other a hoot-and-a-half with the film's main screenwriter and producer David Sheldon, in which he compares -- seriously and favorably -- Mr. Girdler's work to that of Steven Spielberg. Mr. Sheldon also boasts that the script of Sheba, Baby was written literally overnight. (Are we surprised?) Trust me: This is not something you want to brag about.

Sheba, Baby -- from Arrow Video and running a way-too-long 89 minutes -- is available now on DVD and Blu-ray, for rental or purchase.