BUGONIA (2025) - Universal Pictures / Focus Features

Bugonia
Universal Pictures / Focus Features

Original Release Date: Oct. 24th, 2025
Written by Will Tracy, based on Save the Green Planet (2003) by Jang Joon-hwan
Directed by Yorgos Lanthimos
Starring Emma Stone, Jesse Plemons, Aidan Delbis, Alicia Silverstone, Stavros Halkias
Language English, Spanish, or French, with subtitles also available in English, Spanish, or French

Buy it HERE from Orbit DVD

by "Doc" Hunter Bush, MovieJawn Podcast Director and Staff Writer 

The Movie Itself: Excellent

Bugonia is a film that plays with reality. You can read that sentence a few ways and they're each true. Bugonia plays with the audience's understanding of what is really happening, but it also plays around with elements of the world we find ourselves in. When unassuming but intense Teddy (Jesse Plemons), with the help of his cousin Don (Aidan Delbis) kidnaps wealthy CEO Michelle (Emma Stone), he doesn't do it out of malice or revenge. You see, Teddy has a crazy theory bolstered by online research and he intends to force Michelle to verify his improbable belief.

Bugonia constantly swaps who we believe. We spend just as much time early on with both factions, so there is no instinctual feeling that one or the other is our main character. Once Michelle is captured, she repeatedly changes her tactics when dealing with the implacable Teddy and much more tender Don, leaving the audience unsure from moment to moment how much of what we're seeing is to be believed. Beyond that, Lanthimos and screenwriter Will Tracy are playing with the preconceptions around conspiracy thought and the conspiracy theorists themselves. But I won't go too much further with that line of thought in order to avoid SPOILERS.

What I will say is that Aidan Delbis is a fantastic discovery and gives a very grounded performance. Being a comparatively inexperienced actor holding his own against Emma Stone and Jesse Plemons, two fantastically naturalistic performers, even in something as out there as Bugonia, it's quite a feat.

The Packaging: Average

This is a fairly basic first-run release, but not shabby by any means. There is a slipcover with the same image as the disc cover: a bald Michelle staring upwards in what may be ecstasy, with what looks like honey and blood dripping down the image. It's all very warm; orangey browns and tans with the golden maybe-honey and maroon maybe-blood. Inside you find the sleek black plastic dual disc 4K case. Like I said, a pretty traditional release, but still quite handsome.

The Video: Excellent

The video looks incredible. Bugonia looks incredible and is made more so by largely being unremarkable. There are not many flashy shots or sets on display, but what is here has been crafted with such intentionality that it lends the film a fascination. Sure, Michelle's offices are cool and ultra modern, but it's the home where Teddy and Don live that repeatedly caught my eye. The house was constructed from the ground up in High Wycombe in England (doubling for Atlanta, Georgia) and was designed by set designer Prue Howard. There are so many interesting details, and the choices in color, texture, and layout made every scene shot inside feel like looking into a jewel box.

To that end, the cinematography by Robbie Ryan--his third collaboration with Lanthimos after The Favorite (2018) and Poor Things (2023)--is amazing. Deep colors, deep shadows, an appreciation for light in a space and for the feel of nature, which is a surprisingly relevant subtext for this film. Ryan shot on VistaVision, a technique that utilizes a widescreen version of tradition 35mm film, the same technique recently used on The Brutalist (cinematographer Lol Crawley) and One Battle After Another (cinematographer Michael Bauman) making the 2020s the biggest era for the technique since the late '60s.

All of these details in the settings and location, all the fine detail allowed by the VistaVision format is all beautifully rendered in this release. I was frequently struck by how sumptuous a scene looked, whether it was Michelle being held in the basement or Teddy riding his bike to work in bright sunshine, but somehow it never distracted from the overall film. I felt fully immersed in the experiences, like being there. I don't believe I've ever seen a transfer this satisfying looking, but I'm certainly open to the idea.

The Audio: Excellent

I am incredibly happy to see that composer Jerskin Fendrix is nominated for an Academy Award for this score. For multiple reasons. Firstly, it's just a very good score: it has movement and utilizes an occasional focus on one group of instruments over another to highlight feelings of unease, or to emphasize the scope of Teddy's beliefs with appropriate sonic gravitas. What's more, and is my second talking point, he composed this fantastically well-suited score without access to a script or a rough-cut of the film. Apparently Lanthimos, who Fendrix says "...likes to mess with me", only gave him a handful of key words to work from!

I don't have the fanciest of set-ups currently, just a three-channel soundbar, but I noticed no issues with the audio package for Bugonia. On a practical level, I never had to adjust the volume once I found a good level and despite the presence of the occasional deep tones or intentionally buzzy string section, my soundbar was never tortured, never vibrated to a distracting degree. Additionally, from a mixing perspective, there are scenes with multiple points of audio information and they're all perfectly clear. For example, one scene of Teddy biking features the score, the audio from podcasts he's listening to, and the sounds of the world around him: nature, passing cars, etc. All in a pretty perfect balance.

The Supplements: Average

This only has one feature, I checked both the 4K and standard Blu-ray discs just to be sure, which is underwhelming to put it mildly. This is the main deterrent for me when I consider picking up a recent movie's first major release. But, I will say, it's a very interesting featurette and at over 20 minutes, it's nothing to sneeze at. Would I have liked dedicated, deeper-diving featurettes on the set design, the score, the cinematography, and etc.? I sure would, but I'm not against doing a bit of my own research when something interests me.

• The Birth and the Bees: The Making of Bugonia (23:07) (HD)

Final Thoughts: Highly Recommended

I've been in the pocket for Yorgos Lanthimos since I went to see The Lobster on a date--yes, and we're still together--and have never really been disappointed in any of his films. Even so, I think Bugonia is a triumph of creativity and fantastic film on multiple metrics. Despite being a remake of a film and sharing a ton of thematic and ideological DNA with that, it is (or I suppose they are) just fantastically unique and thought-provoking. Beyond that, as exemplified above, I loved the production end of things on this film. It looks, sounds, and overall feels fantastic. Just an excellent viewing experience.

If you like auteur filmmaking, UFO / conspiracy thought, paranoid thrillers and stand out, believable performances, Bugonia is a must see, and this release does justice to it all.

BORN IN FLAMES (1983) - Criterion

Born in Flames
Criterion
Original Release Date: Feb. 20th, 1983
Written by Ed Bowes, Lizzie Borden
Directed by Lizzie Borden
Starring Honey, Jean Satterfield, Adele Bertei, Florynce Kennedy
Language English (SDH available)

Get your copy HERE from Criterion, or HERE from Diabolik

by "Doc" Hunter Bush, MovieJawn Podcast Director and Staff Writer 

The Movie: Excellent

Half documentary, half science fiction polemic, Born in Flames asks questions that are still as relevant as ever. Instead of imagining a dystopian future, filmmaker Lizzie Borden shows us a future ten years out from a "socio-democratic" victory. Described as "the most peaceful war ever", it seems the U.S.A. just decided they were fed up with fascism and communism and have now settled into a seemingly idyllic worldview. Except not everyone is being treated truly equally.

In the included interview, Borden boils the film down to its central idea: "What if women were still left behind after the socialist revolution? It would be working women and women of color." We are therefore introduced to a number of revolutionaries; women attempting to affect change. Honey (played by Honey), and Isabel (Adele Bertei) both host late night (pirate?) radio shows--Phoenix Radio and Radio Ragazza respectively--playing tunes and urging listeners not to settle for the imperfect world of the new American Socialism, better though it may be, and Adelaide (Jean Satterfield) and Zella (Florynce Kennedy) of the Women's Army, with Adelaide doing the more boots-on-the-ground good work of recruiting and organizing relevant protests, like a secretary's strike.

There are also the Bicycle Brigades, groups of women on bikes who travel the city keeping an eye out for women being harassed, preventing assaults by circling like sharks and drawing attention by blowing whistles. In what I think is a perfect distillation of the film's themes, a newscaster reports that "...officials condemn the lawlessness of such vigilantism asking for information regarding the women involved" before cheekily adding "...perhaps even their telephone numbers."

This shows the central hypocrisy of Borden's futuristic world: women are still not being treated fairly with regards to equal job opportunities and basic physical safety, meanwhile we are shown a cabal of men trying to suss out the leadership structures of these groups and organizations in an attempt to dismantle them. This hypocrisy, that women are not to have their needs taken seriously but are simultaneously a potential threat to all of society, is the logical discordance that drives the film. With Born in Flames, Borden seems to be plainly asking: Which is it?

Borden cast non-actors for most of the roles and, rather than giving them strict lines to follow, would have a discussion of the scene's themes, then allow them to speak their minds. These issues were what was on their minds at the time and, while the issues at hand have most definitely changed, we as a society are still nowhere near anything you could call an idyll.

As things build towards a legitimately quite shocking ending (which is all I will say), Borden's obvious punk ethos and ideals of equality are underlined and undermined in equal measure. Though obviously made inexpensively, and largely lacking recognizable names (there are a few exceptions), Born in Flames is a powerful example of a filmmaker pushing the boundaries of their means, and not being afraid to demand better from the world.

The Packaging: Excellent 

This is your average Criterion packaging, which is overall better and sturdier than your average slim, blue case. The cover image is of Honey staring down the barrel of the camera while addressing the city via her Phoenix Radio show, with appropriately punk-tinged text and visual jazz.

The Audio + Video: Good

This is not a crystal clear film. Borden shot on whatever film was available, including scrap ends, so there are some changes in visual quality from time to time, and overall, even though Born in Flames has been restored, it still looks like what it is: a film more concerned with passion than precision made by a filmmaker with something to say.

But that roughness, the grain, the quote/unquote "imperfections" are emblematic of punk. Born in Flames is gritty, not pretty, and chooses poignancy over technical perfection. This only adds to the faux documentary aesthetic, feeling off-the-cuff and unrehearsed, which sells the reality presented in the film, in turn underscoring the film's once-and-future relevance. It cannot be understated how brilliantly creative this approach is. Rather than setting her film in an overblown dystopia, having the world seem otherwise "good" really demands the viewer interrogate their own world and ideals. More authors spring to mind than have utilized this approach than filmmakers, so aspiring directors: take note.

Special Features: Average

I'm lukewarm on the special features on this one. With something like this, which is fairly unique conceptually and was created in a similarly unique way, I would like all the context you can give me. What's included here is an admittedly very informative interview with Borden, and her previous feature, 1976's Regrouping.

Regrouping, briefly, is another not-exactly documentary. If the opening text is to be believed, it was originally intended to be more of a straight-ahead document of a women's group, before the subject group lost interest, leaving Borden holding the bag. My read on it is that it ends up becoming a frustrating viewing experience about the frustrations she was feeling, but I'll leave you to make your own assessments.

Altogether, I feel like, even supplemented by the essays in the included booklet, I still want for more context.

• Lizzie Borden Interview (12:21)
• Regrouping (1:15:06)

In Summary: Buy it on sale

Obviously, all films are not for all people, and non-narrative (or not-exactly narrative) films can be a slightly taller order. Born in Flames, despite the novelty of its futuristic setting, and the shocks of its climax (which I avoided discussion of because I believe it's best experienced without expectation), this is still ultimately a documentary. However, I feel like the concerns, the issues, at the core of the film are still so prevalent that the film is worth watching as more than just a snapshot of its time. Definitely worth watching, slightly less definitely worth owning.

NEVERMORE: THE RAVEN EFFECT (2025) - ETR Media

Nevermore: The Raven Effect
(Aug. 23rd, 2025)
ETR Media
Directed by Geordie Day
Written by Geordie Day
Starring Scott Levy, Billy Corgan, Tommy Dreamer

Buy it HERE from Vinegar Syndrome

by "Doc" Hunter Bush, MovieJawn Podcast Director and Staff Writer 

Overview:

Nevermore: The Raven Effect comes to Blu-ray from ETR Media. Directed by documentarian Geordie Day, who has a pedigree of TV and features from true crime to sports docs, Nevermore unpacks the life, legacy, and impact of a key figure in the independent wrestling scene. While ETR's release lacks bonus content to sweeten the deal, the movie itself is still a draw.

The Movie Itself: 5 stars

Documentaries are always odd creatures for critical review, at least to me. Traditional concepts about narrative structures and cinematography are, if not entirely out the window, then at least skewed. While you can, and many do, structure the way they deliver information according to some version of a story arc, filmmakers are still more constrained by actual events than in any other art form. Likewise, the cinematography is largely up to whatever footage is available. So what most documentaries come down to for me is how informative they are. How well and how fairly do they deliver the information at their core?

In that regard, Nevermore: The Raven Effect is a triumph. I'm a lifelong Philadelphian, and sometime-long wrestling fan, so there are periods of my life where I was made extremely aware of Raven and of ECW. Raven was always regarded as something of a mastermind, and over the years, I became more aware of his reputation within the industry for having one of the smartest minds for the art form of wrestling, But I'd never been able to find too much footage of the man speaking out of character.

Thankfully, documentarian Geordie Day delivers exactly that, and in droves. Very early on, Raven (né Scott Levy) says "Wrestling is the only thing I was ever a natural at. That and taking opiates." That kind of honesty and humor are present throughout the doc, and Raven speaks just as openly about everything from his early years, to his struggles with injury and drugs (an all too common refrain in wrestlers, especially of the era), to how he views himself.

The Blu-ray:

This release features a reversible cover, with each side showcasing a different illustration of Raven in his heyday. On one side, he sits on the corner, "Raven's perch", with the ground in front of him strewn with weapons. A crowd of sign-wielding fans is cast in magenta tones behind him, and an actual Raven sits on the turnbuckle above his head (which I'm fairly certain never happened, but not 100% sure).

The reverse side shows Raven standing in a ring wrapped in barbed wire, holding two title belts. The background of fans has been replaced with the chainlink fence of a steel cage. It's a strangely haunting illustration. There was also a slipcover featuring additional illustrations--Raven in the ring with Sandman standing outside, bloodied on one side, Raven taking an unprotected chair shot on the reverse--from the same artist, whose name I could not find, but alas, it seems to have sold out.

The Video: 4 stars

This release looks great, but as I said, traditional ideas of cinematography and discussion of things like film grain and the like are kind of pointless here. Everything shot specifically for this doc is nice and crisp, and overall, the footage from early in Levy's career looks good; nothing's too grainy to understand what you're looking at, which I suppose is the benefit of only having to go so far back.

The doc does something kind of fun with still photos: a faux-3D effect where the background and focal portion of an image are presented on two different planes with slight motion between them. It gives them an extra oomph of dynamism, which I appreciated.

The Audio: 3 stars

Similarly, the audio was perfectly acceptable for a documentary, and even through my three-channel soundbar, was immersive enough. I can't think of any moments that stand out especially in either a positive or negative manner from an audio perspective, other that really enjoying some of the music chosen.  The slightly different room sounds / tones in the various interviews with Levy really help remind you that this was something assembled over a long period of time: softer and warmer in his living room for instance, verses in some cavernous lobby, doing a meet and greet.

The Supplements: 2 stars

The majority of the Bonus Features are additional interview snippets from the likes of Blue Meanie, DDP, RVD, Tommy Dreamer, and Chris Jericho. They're at times heartwarming, like Jericho realizing how close he came to never getting together with his wife, and at time heartbreaking; Perry Saturn detailing the hardships he's gone through are tough to handle. But they're all fascinating.

• Bonus Interviews:
• Billy Corgan (3:37)
• Blue Meanie (6:02)
• Chris Jericho (3:36)
• DDP (6:20)
• Raven (2:17)
• RVD (16:47)
• Sandman (5:36)
• Saturn (7:27)
• Tommy Dreamer (7:16)
• Trailer (2:32)

Final Thoughts: 

Nevermore: The Raven Effect will appeal to a subset of a subset of people: wrestling fans might only have a passing familiarity with Raven to begin with, but if you're someone who is interested in wrestling as an art form, and not just the entertainment it produces, you could do a lot worse than hearing Scott Levy's story straight from the Raven's mouth as it were. Beyond that, his involvement with ECW allows for a really interesting idea of what ECW was at the time to form at the edges of this doc. If you're an aspiring wrestler, or someone interested in the craft of wrestling, Raven's story gives you plenty to admire, and plenty to avoid. Recommended.

DAKOTA (1974) - Cult Epics

Dakota
Cult Epics
Apr. 11th, 1974
Written by Charles Gormley, Jan Verstappen, Harrie Verstappen, idea by Wim Verstappen
Directed by Wim Verstappen
Starring Kees Brusse, Diana Dobbelman, Monique van de Ven, Willeke van Ammelrooy
Language Dutch (w/English subs)

Click HERE to purchase from MVD

by "Doc" Hunter Bush, Podcast Director and Staff Writer at MovieJawn

The Movie: Average

Dick de Boer (Kees Brusse) loves being a pilot. He loves his plane, the titular DC-3 Dakota, but times are tough. He has a mandatory inspection coming up in a few months and will need a few thousand bucks to get the plane in shape enough to pass muster. What's a fella to do? Well, smuggling seems to be an option. As de Boer, his world and his problems slowly come into focus, we begin to feel the tension that must be alive inside him all the time.

I'm not sure I've ever seen a film quite like Dakota. Though it's described as an "adventure film" by the Encyclopedia of International Film (a German collection of film reviews from the magazine Filmdienst), it's more of a slow-burn moral thriller than anything else. The climax of the film begins roughly halfway through the run time, and we're given our most direct assessment of de Boer in the film's penultimate scene; the kind of character description usually placed at the beginning, to help the audience find their collective footing. Very unique.

I don't know if all of it works for me. Kees Brusse's performance could be called stoic if I was being especially flowery. The man is a cipher. He gives away very little, only occasionally getting angry, but even these moments aren't big emotional outbursts. This can work in a film, see Le Samouraï (1967) for instance, but nothing ever felt out of de Boer's control.

The big set piece of Dakota is one long flight, on which de Boer is transporting a whole bunch of boxes. The audience can take their guesses at what's in 'em, and de Boer seems curious, but ultimately decides it might be better not to know. Early in the film some acquaintance at the airport warns de Boer that his flight plans have been raising negative attention--he'll sometimes take twice as long going one way on a trip than on the return--and a meeting with Helen (Diana Dobbelman) to inquire about a job reveals that she's also under surveillance.

Taking his cargo of mystery boxes (J.J. Abrams, eat your heart out), de Boer flies to a nearby friendly island, offloads all the seats, and onboards a dozen barrels of fuel allowing him to fly and refuel uninterrupted. The following sequence is presented as though it has the inherent tension of driving that truck full of explosives across the bridge in Sorcerer (1977), but the quietude of the Dick de Boer performance means that my pulse never really pounded. Instead, the sequence sells de Boer's competence as a pilot.

What all this means is that the film might scratch the itch for viewers who appreciate technical proficiency. If the technical and logical acuity of the time travel in Primer (2004) really appeals to you, or you find the tactical accuracy in the John Wick films really satisfying, Dakota might tick the same box for you. For me, while I enjoyed the film as a character piece, and its overall message about freedom, it left little for me to strongly recommend. 

The Packaging: Excellent

Obviously, I had some issues with the film as a whole. Well, I have none when it comes to the packaging. The release comes in a handsome, sturdy clear case allowing you to see the reversible cover. On one side is an illustration designed by Juan Esteban R. of Dick de Boer working on one of the Dakota's engines. The reverse is the original Dutch poster art featuring the Dakota soaring past the logo with drawings of Kees Brusse, Monique van de Ven, and Willeke van Ammelrooy set against a serene blue sky. There is also a slipcover edition depicting the Juan Esteban R. illustration.

I genuinely love the look of this release and have enjoyed seeing it on my shelf, waiting for me to dive in to the film.

The Audio + Video: Excellent

For a film that is over fifty years old, this release of Dakota looks incredible. Yes, there's film grain and the particular orangey-red of the opening credits and titles looks a little deep-fried, but none of it was unwatchable (or unreadable in the case of the titles). While not crystal clear and sharp, these kinds of visual signifiers add the to texture of a film. It adds a certain respectable aging to the movie and that is in no way a detriment.

Beyond that, the cinematography is wonderful. Dick de Boer driving around Curaçao looks great and feels like a travelogue. That feeling quadruples once the Dakota is in the sky. Interesting fact: Jan de Bont, director of such '90s classics as Speed (1994) and Twister (1996), was the original cinematographer on this before allegedly developing some kind of relationship with actress Monique van de Ven which led to both of them eventually leaving the project. While van de Ven apparently had her character removed from the portion of the film she had not yet shot, de Bont was replaced by Theo van de Sande.

For what it's worth, I think both cinematographers did a fantastic job. Watching the Dakota languidly cutting through the sky, with a shimmering ocean below truly feels like magic. I should also say that I have no knowledge of how accurate this anecdote may be, as I saw another source saying van de Ven and de Bont began their relationship on another film set. So who knows?

Special Features: Average

I was not wowed by the special features here, gang, despite initially being quite excited. The first is the Dakota Press Flight, and the 2nd is just titled Cannes Film Festival. Both of these were, frankly, boring. Almost no one is introduced in any way, so I never really knew who or what I was looking at. The effect is akin to watching a stranger's home movies from parties you weren't at. They all seem to be having fun, which is great, but not interesting (to me at least).

Now I will say that on the Dakota Press Flight, when they have engine trouble and have to perform an emergency landing for repairs, I was slightly more engaged that the previous footage of journalists I don't know drinking and smoking on a plane. But then they fix the problem and get back on the plane to resume drinking, smoking and hanging out. Similarly, there are a few moments of drama in the Cannes video, but since I don't really know who any of these folks are, I'm more than a little lost.

In all fairness, I have not yet listened to the included commentary, from Peter Verstraten, so perhaps it will establish some context and resolve some of my issues. I'll get to it eventually.

• Dakota Press Flight (19:14)
• Cannes Film Festival (8:16)
• Gallery
• Scorpio Films Trailers
• Dakota (1974) (2:43)
• Wan Pipel (1976) (3:30)
• Frank & Eva (1973) (2:24)
• My Nights with Susan, Sandra, Olga, & Julie (1975) (2:04)
• Obsessions (1969) (2:56)
• Blue Movie (1971) (1:52)
• Pastorale 1943 (1978) (2:01)

In Summary: Borrow this (consult your local library!)

Dakota is a very interesting film, and can see why others with more specific tastes would dig it, but it's just not quite for me. Much as I was excited to check out a Dutch film (I can think of one or two I've seen that were actually made by Dutch filmmakers, not just filmed around the Netherlands), and as interested as I have since become in Scorpio Films (created by Dakota director Wim Verstappen and producer Pim de la Parra, a director in his own right), Dakota just barely registered on my radar, which would probably make Dick de Boer very happy.

THE BETRAYAL (1966) - Radiance Films

The Betrayal
Radiance Films
Original release date: July 2nd, 1966 (Japan)
Written by Rokuhei Susukita (original idea), Seiji Hoshikawa & Tsutomu Nakamura (screenplay)
Directed by Tokuzô Tanaka
Starring Raizô Ichikawa, Kaoru Yachigusa, Shiho Fujimura, Ichirô Nakatani, Takuya Fujioka
Language Japanese (English subs)
Runtime 1 hr, 27 mins

Buy it HERE from MVD, or HERE from Radiance

by "Doc" Hunter Bush, MovieJawn Podcast Director and Staff Writer 

What happens when a system founded on honor is inhabited and manipulated by dishonorable men? What does honor mean then? The Betrayal throws you into the deep end right from the jump. Gorgeous black and white cinematography and the sprawling countryside of 1960s Japan quickly give way to a samurai on horseback who rides into town, to the Minazuki clan dojo and demands to be trained. After being told that the master has retired for the day and that the dojo is closed, the man storms off, badmouthing the dojo to other Minazuki samurai he encounters on the road. In a moment of prideful weakness, the samurai lash out, fatally wounding the man but not killing him.

This begins a harrowing story about love and honor that manages to cram the emotional movement and bodycount of your average epic into a sleek 87 minute runtime. When the man's brother arrives at the Minazuki dojo demanding satisfaction for what we learn was the eventual death of his brother, who rode home badly wounded, he demands vengeance. Fearing a war with this more powerful neighboring clan, Master Taihei (Shôzô Nanbu) turns to his right hand man, and soon-to-be son-in-law, Kobuse (Raizô Ichikawa). The plan is this: since no one will claim responsibility, Kobuse will take the blame, be exiled, and spend one year as a wandering ronin. By the time he returns, tensions will have passed and he will be allowed to reintegrate into the dojo and finally marry Taihei's daughter Namie (Kaoru Yachigusa).

What no one anticipates is that Master Taihei would pass away suddenly in the intervening year. Once Jurota (Ichirô Nakatani), the one fellow Minazuki samurai who knew the truth, denies all knowledge, Kobuse is left with no one to believe his story. Additionally, having been denied their bloody reparations, the Iwashiro clan are actively on the hunt for Kobuse. Homeless, honorless, and hunted, Kobuse repeatedly finds himself in situations where he is the only levelheaded swordsman, the only truly honorable man.

The Betrayal gave me Infernal Affairs (2002) / The Departed (2006) vibes once I wrapped my head around all the players and their POVs, so fans of that kind of life-or-death tension and wronged-man stories: pay attention.

This release comes in a sturdy case with a double-sided cover. One side is an image from the film of Kobuse in a stand-off against his former master atop a ridge, while the reverse side is a more stylized image of Kobuse in a pop of color, with several black and white opponents in the background done in a pseudo-collage style and set against a stark white background. Both are fantastic choices to have on your shelf; one giving off more "film appreciator" aesthetic while the other is a touch more "grindhouse".

Also included is a booklet with some details on the transfer and a fascinating essay from film studies author Alain Silver which details a lot of cultural and cinematic language and explains how certain aspects of storytelling present in The Betrayal evolved out of kabuki theatricality. He also compares certain directorial choices to films like Harakiri (1962) and assorted works of Akira Kurosawa. This gives me not only a lot of context (which I love) but a leg up on the language I can use to discuss these things.

The Betrayal looks fantastic. Obviously, there's some film grain and texture present in this release, but the images are very sharp, offering an entire spectrum of shades despite this being a black and white film. There's also a certain artfulness to shooting with only black and white in mind, a deliberateness you can feel in the framing of shots and the combinations of set and costume to make actions and movements clearly readable. You can throw a desaturation filter over your Logan (2017) or Fury Road (2015) and enjoy them, but it's a completely different animal to watch something made by filmmakers actively thinking in monochrome.

The one wrinkle that might turn off some of the more tech-geeky film aficionados out there is that this is a mono audio track. Personally, I didn't mind it. I don't really expect or need a film from 60 years ago to offer an immersive audio experience (even if I had that kind of set-up, which I don't) and the mono track not only gave me everything I needed from it, but it also kind of reinforces the throwback-y feel of watching a film that takes place in a different century. Much as small children looking at old photographs might assume that the world of 100+ years ago was actually sepia or black & white, even though I know better, I kind of like to believe this mono audio is what Japan might have actually sounded like in whatever century this story takes place in. There's different approaches to the concept of "immersion", is my point.

Overall the special features present on this disc are decent. While there isn't a full-length commentary track, there are a selection of scene-specific commentaries, from Tom Mes, (which thankfully have a 'Play All' option) offering insight into the filmmaking and background of director Tokuzô Tanaka, and leading me to track down the film Orochi (1925), which directly inspired The Betrayal. The 'Path to Betrayal' featurette, narrated by Philip Kemp, expands upon that relationship and compares moments from both films. One amusing anecdote is that Orochi (which means 'Serpent') was originally titled The Outlaw, but could not be released under that name because it depicted the titular outlaw in a heroic light.

I wasn't wild over the third bonus feature, which plays like a PowerPoint presentation on Recurring Visual Themes in Tokuzô Tanaka's films. While I found the subject matter itself interesting, the presentation--just text over footage--felt a little lacking. I'd have more enjoyed a little more of an examination of what these elements might represent narratively in the various films, and some narration (if Tom Mes, who put it together, wasn't available, that Philip Kemp fella did a bang-up job). Also, not to be nitpicky, but if the titles of all these films could be onscreen for longer (so I can add 'em to my Letterboxd watchlist), that would've been much appreciated.

• Scene Specific Commentary (41:24)
• The Path To Betrayal (10:00)
• Recurring Visual Themes (9:24)

The world of samurai / bushido films goes deeper than Kurosawa, great as that filmography obviously is, and I'm very glad that The Betrayal is being made available. I thoroughly enjoyed my time in this world. Imagine enjoying organized crime films, but only ever hearing about The Godfather (1972), or the films of Martin Scorsese. Sure, you're getting great stuff, but what about Donnie Brasco (1997), The Untouchables (1987), or Miller's Crossing (1990)? This is why I'm glad and grateful to live during an nearly unprecedented era of film access. I'm able to be exposed to so many films outside the usual lanes that are still well within the genres I enjoy. Additionally, the special features here led me to track down Orochi, which if nothing else, makes me feel slightly more well-rounded as a film viewer.

The Betrayal is a blast that throws you into the action as it begins and doesn't waste any time after that. Every moment furthers the story, increasing our understanding of the characters and the importance they place on their honor. Then of course, when that honor is finally ...betrayed, we're treated to a climactic marathon of violent retribution. When the film ended, I was stunned in my seat. While the release might have some minor technical deterrents for some, I still wholeheartedly recommend you seek this one out if you enjoy Kill Bill (2003/2004) or the aforementioned Kurosawa, and want to dive deeper.

NIGHT OF THE JUGGLER (Kino Lorber)

Night of the Juggler

Kino Classics
June 6, 1980
Written by William W. Norton, Rick Natkin, based on a novel by William P. McGivern
Directed by Robert Butler, Sidney J. Furie (uncredited)
Starring James Brolin, Cliff Gorman, Julie Carmen, Abby Bluestone, Dan Hedaya
Language English

Buy it HERE from Kino Lorber, or HERE from Diabolik

by "Doc" Hunter Bush, MovieJawn Podcast Director and Staff Writer 

The Movie: Excellent

Holy Toledo, gang! I originally saw this restoration in July as part of the Fantasia International Film Festival--at least, I think so. It was AN restoration, I'm not 100% certain it was THIS restoration--and I was jaw-on-the-floor riveted the whole time. Full of style that was for the time quite revolutionary, and awash in tension, Night of the Juggler hits the ground running and never really lets up.

Sean Boyd (James Brolin) is an ex-NYPD cop turned trucker who's on the outs with his wife but is still trying to show up in a meaningful way for his daughter Kathy (Abby Bluestone). When a local loon, Cliff Gorman as Gus Soltic the titular Juggler, mistakes Abby for a higher-profile child and kidnaps her, he sets off an exhaustive chase across the city of New York that takes Sean and other interested parties from high society brownstones to the actual sewers and everywhere in between.

A few things set this apart from the myriad of films and television involving a parent unrelentingly chasing down a kidnapper, and only some of them are obvious on a first viewing, while the rest were made clear after checking out the special features. First of all, the pacing. While I absolutely responded to it, as mentioned above, I wasn't conscious of how completely the film emphasized it until Julie Carmen mentioned in an interview how she felt the presence of jogging early on mirrors the unrelenting forward motion of the rest of the film. Relatedly, original director Sidney J. Furie's pioneering use of long lenses to add a claustrophobia to all shots, interior or exterior, by cramming the frames full of foreground and background detail. The result is a film that actively feels like desperately trying to push your way through a crowd going the other direction.

Brolin sells all of it. He has an easygoing but no-nonsense quality that tells the audience from the jump that the Juggler absolutely grabbed the wrong guy's kid (and not just because he actually did think she was a different kid). Once Sean is on the move, he pretty much never slows down and certainly not of his own accord, even though in real life, Brolin broke his foot filming an early chase scene and production had to halt temporarily, but more on that later.

I'd be remiss not to mention the rest of the cast, because they're all fantastic. Richard S. Castellano and Dan Hedaya as cops, with Hedaya becoming an especially dangerous thorn in Sean's side; Cliff Gorman giving a truly unhinged and dangerous performance as the Juggler; Julie Carmen as the sweet Maria who takes pity on Sean and helps him out; and a pre-breakout Mandy Patinkin doing a version of the accent that he would use in The Princess Bride as Allesandro the cab driver. And then there's New York itself. We're all well familiar with the old "the city is a character" adage, but I'd say that here NYC is almost a performer. Sidney Furie allegedly said that in New York, even the extras are great actors, and I'm inclined to agree with him. They add a level of reality to the film that makes the world feel so much more real and visceral.

The Packaging: Good

Talk about the type of case, if there’s a booklet, essays, etc. Talk about what stood out to you as someone who values owning physical media!

This comes in a standard Kino Lorber black 4K/Ultra HD case, which looks sharp, but the real one-two punch for me is the slip and the reversible cover art. One side offers the more colorful of the two illustrations which depicts a visibly shaken Sean in high contrast blue lighting above an image of the Juggler dragging Kathy through a sewer tunnel with the tagline "Somewhere out there his little girl is crying for help." This one is also the image on the slipcover, and it's a great one. The deep blue and teal green of the tunnel below work really well with the stark black background and white-and-blue title.

But, the reverse side, while less colorful, is my favorite. Above a narrow collage of imagery from the film is a depiction of a wild-eyed Sean tearing an image of New York City apart with his bare hands! It's all in black and white with the tagline "In the heart of every victim is a hero and he'll tear apart a city to prove it." at the top. The effect reminds me a little of the pop art collage work I first encountered in comic books from the 1960s and '70s and it's just an incredibly arresting image. I have limited wall-space, but I'm seriously considering tracking down a full-size poster.

The Audio + Video: Excellent

I love the look of this film. As I mentioned above, Sidney J. Furie's concept for using the long lenses is fantastic. It crowds the frame with visual obstacles--fences, subterranean pipes, the people of the city--in a way that makes you almost desperate to keep your eyes on the action. After production halted due to James Brolin's broken foot, producers wanted Furie to make changes to the script that would see his character Sean spend less time being active onscreen. Seeing as how Furie had constructed the whole film to feel like a desperate chase, he disagreed which led to his being replaced by credited director Robert Butler. Luckily Butler and cinematographer Victor J. Kemper kept the long lenses, ensuring a cohesive vision for the film as a whole--and one that Butler would adapt to the Hill Street Blues pilot the next year, helping to establish a look for street-level crime stories that persists to this day.

The transfer really works incredibly well with this style of filmmaking. Taken from a 4k scan of the original camera negative, there's film grain present, but the images themselves are very sharp, which you really need with the cluttered depth of frame achieved by the long lenses. On a lesser transfer, Sean and Sgt. Barnes (Hedaya) having a conversation with a chainlink fence between them and the camera could easily be muddy, or the third act descent into sewers and subterranean utility corridors, with all their pipes, steam, and other visual obstacles, could be a dark mess of blurry shapes. Here, everything feels tactile and real, which adds to the immersion. I felt like I had to actively keep my eyes on what was happening, lest the movie get away from me.

The audio mix adds to that effect as well. As I type this, I can't think of any score, though I know there had to be some. All I can recall is the sounds of the city swallowing everything at every turn. Obviously, you can't run down a busy street in New York without drawing the ire and car horns of numerous drivers, but also people passing on the street and general atmospheric sounds were all mixed very well in my three-channel soundbar.

Special Features: Excellent

What I always want most from special features is context. I like to know the clime and conditions in which the film I've watched was made. The features on this Kino release are dynamite for context! There are the two interviews, the Pandemonium Reflex inquest segment, and a very informative commentary track, all of which added to my understanding of this film as an object. Even the trailers help give me an idea of similar films of the era (though as always, I think trailers need a 'Play All' option).

The inquest feature especially, really stands out for me. In addition to elucidating a lot of the information about the filmmaking style that I've mentioned above--which I appreciated because I didn't even realize I was responding to it until it was brought to my attention!--it also really brought Sidney J. Furie into sharper focus for me and added a bunch of his (to me) lesser-known films to my watchlist.

• Commentary from film historians Steve Mitchell and Nathaniel Thompson
• Summer of '78, an interview with James Brolin (13:51)
• The Sweet Maria, an interview with Julie Carmen (14:22)
• Pandemonium Reflex: An Inquest into Sidney J. Furie’s Night of the Juggler (14:02)
• Trailers
• Night of the Juggler (1980) (1:53)
• Hardcore (1979) (1:23)
• Vice Squad (1982) (0:59)
• The Hunter (1980) (3:15)
• Stick (1985) (1:22)
• Death Wish 3 (1985) (1:41)

In Summary: Must Own

There's a certain relentless determination in a film that audiences respond to. It's part of what made the John Wick series pop for so many people. Few films really support that tone as well as Night of the Juggler. From the moment Kathy is taken, the film rarely loses momentum, and even when it does it more than makes up for it when the pace picks back up. The densely packed frames add a desperation and anxiety to the chase that, as I mentioned, was adopted shortly after this and remains part of the genre's visual DNA. It's because it works.

Thrillers are called thrillers for a reason. You want your audience tense, and excited, and Night of the Juggler delivers, as a film, hugely. On top of that, this release allows for a tremendously satisfying, high quality viewing experience with plenty of satellite materials for deep-divers to explore. 

A CONFUCIAN CONFUSION / MAHJONG: Two films by Edward Yang (Criterion)

A Confucian Confusion / Mahjong:
Two films by Edward Yang
Criterion
1994 / 1996
Written by Edward Yang
Directed by Edward Yang\
Starring Shiang-chyi Chen, Bosen Wang, Shu-Chun Ni, Tsung Sheng Tang, Virginie Ledoyen,
Chinese / English with subtitles available in English

Buy it HERE from Criterion

by "Doc" Hunter Bush, MovieJawn Podcast Director and Staff Writer 

The Movies: Good

Edward Yang is a fascinating figure with an equally interesting story. Originally an architect, he was inspired by the work of Werner Herzog to instead become a filmmaker, directing a handful of features over roughly twenty years before breaking into wider prominence with what turned out to be his final film. The critical appreciation for 2000's Yi Yi then triggered an examination of Yang's back catalogue of films. Criterion have previously released Yang's A Brighter Summer Day (1991), and they have plans to release Yi Yi in January of 2026, but this release concerns the two features that came in between those films, Yang's two comedies: A Confucian Confusion (1994) and Mahjong (1996). Yang seems fascinated with the ways in which groups of people interact, whether it be a family (Yi Yi), schoolmates (A Brighter Summer Day) or, in the case of both A Confucian Confusion and Mahjong, the young people in and around Taipei in an era of great financial growth. As much an examination of the city itself as the characters, both films are awash with nuance, motion, light, and tension.

A Confucian Confusion follows a handful of young professionals working in and around an entertainment company. Their clients and projects include a weekly TV show, an author, and a play being put on by an eccentric auteur. An additional dimension to things is the interpersonal relationships behind these business relationships: Molly (Shu-Chun Ni) has been put in charge by her wealthy husband Akeem (Bosen Wang). She might not be our main character (there might not even be one), but she's inarguably the lynchpin. Her sister (Li-Mei Chen) hosts the TV show, her friend from school is the auteur director (Ye-Ming Wang), who it turns out "borrowed" the plot from an old novel written by the author (Hung Hung), who happens to be Molly's brother-in-law, which will require him to sign a release. Akeem also wants to take his relationship with Molly from one largely of convenience to one involving actual love, but believes she has been having an affair.

Mahjong, while also concerned with Taipei as a financial mecca and with family, romantic, and friendship dynamics, introduces crime elements to the mix. Red Fish (Tsung Sheng Tang)'s father has gone into hiding. Though the family is quite wealthy, he owes a tremendous amount to local criminals, who plan to get it back by taking Red Fish hostage. He's part of a gang of low-level hustlers whose main scam is having Little Buddha (Chi-tsan Wang) make strange predictions which the other members make come true, "proving" Little Buddha's value to wealthy marks who then pay handsomely to secure his services. Intertwined around these schemes are a sought-after hairdresser (De Zhao), a British actor (Nick Erickson), and his French ex-girlfriend (Virginie Ledoyen) who came all the way there seeking closure, among others.

To say that Edward Yang's films are complex would be a bit misleading. They're actually quite simple, and elegant, they're just very detailed. Their comedy comes from situations, and the ways in which ostensibly normal characters react to them, and to each other. But the same goes for the drama present in both films: relationships are strained, fractured, changed, broken, or repaired and Yang's extremely empathetic viewpoint shines through. There are very few irredeemably "bad" people, just people who want different things. These films are about learning that there's more to the world than just what you get out of it, and about crossing the threshold from trying to change the world to allowing it to change you.

The Packaging: Excellent

This double feature comes packaged in the standard Criterion case: sturdy and handsome, like me. Unlike me, this release features art by Tori Huynh. A minimal black, white, and red color scheme and simple, clean lines depict most of the important characters from both films on both sides of the cover--there are 22 on the front, I believe--, the booklet, and both discs.

The booklet, in addition to a wonderful essay by Dennis Lim and a Director's Note from Edward Yang himself that originally accompanied A Confucian Confusion's press notes in 1994--both of which provided me with tons of valuable cultural context--also features several wonderful images from the films. But. My personal favorite bit of the included ephemera is a reproduction of a drawing Yang himself did of the main cast of characters in A Confucian Confusion, to help keep all the interpersonal relationships clear. It was mentioned in the bonus features, and I was pleased to find it included.

The Audio + Video: Excellent

I found nothing about either the audio or video presentations to take issue with. These films are small in scale and somewhat intimate in the way they are captured, and the audio mix makes them feel very grounded and real. One of the producers owned a TGI Fridays in the city, leading to many scenes in both films being set there, perhaps as a commentary on the commercial encroachment of western culture, perhaps as a convenience, or perhaps both. Mahjong also features the Hard Rock Cafe as a hub of interaction for what it's worth, though as far as I could find, that was entirely an aesthetic choice. Regardless, the constant hum of pop music in both locations while the characters are trying to have important conversations felt incredibly relatable and familiar in a way that added a lot of emotional texture to scenes.

The down-to-earth focus of Yang's lens likewise conveys an almost voyeuristic intimacy, like we are stumbling across these people in the moments, while out in the world, but it doesn't limit the everyday beauty he could capture. There's a certain modern loveliness to things like a series of neon lights in the darkness that Yang was obviously aware of. One especially lovely shot, allegedly inspired by Shadows and Fog (1991), at one point in A Confucian Confusion features two characters in a high rise office beautifully backlit by the dawn skyline. I'm hard pressed to think of a director with more of a grasp of the quiet beauty of the everyday.

Special Features: Good

I think this release has all its bases covered. Personally, what I look for in supplemental features is context: unless I'm already deeply familiar with a film personally, there's nothing I like more than better understanding the environment in which an artist has created their art. It's why I loved movie hosts growing up, and why I enjoy things like the Blank Check podcast now. The Q&A with Yang on Disc One is nothing but straight-from-the-horse's-mouth information about A Confucian Confusion from conception to execution. Similarly, the discussion on Yang's works between Chinese cultural studies scholar Michael Berry and film critic Justin Chang was incredibly enlightening. 

But if you're someone interested in "the process",  here's an interview with editor Chen Po-Wen who worked on every one of Yang's films from A Brighter Summer Day onward. There's also a filmed performance of an entire play by Yang for those folks who like finding some freebies in their bonus features. The various sources paint a picture of Edward Yang as an incredibly considerate artist in all senses of the word.

• Disc One:
• Edward Yang Q&A (53:27) - recorded after a screening of A Confucian Confusion in 1994
• Likely Consequence (45:20) - recording of a 1992 performance of a play by Edward Yang
• Disc Two:
• Michael Berry & Justin Chang (44:12)
• Interview with editor Chen Po-Wen (25:49)

In Summary: Buy It On Sale

Of the two films featured here, Mahjong works slightly better for me. While both films are insightful and delicate examinations of humanity and the ways we interact with each other and the great big world, the addition of a crime element allowed both the comedy and drama aspects of Mahjong to sing a bit more. That said, both films are just fantastic. Beautiful, elegant, and occasionally unexpectedly funny.

If you are looking for gentle, well-drawn examinations of characters, some of whom are just slightly larger than life, I would bump this up to a Must Own, but for some filmgoers, these movies might be just a little too mellow; too low-stakes. Even the threats I mentioned in Mahjong never really feel life-or-death, even if they're presented that way. They're just a different prism to examine these characters through, and in my case, a much appreciated one.