Plot in one sentence: A blend of cops and crooks try to hold off a siege by gang members on the abandoned police station they inhabit.

Extras:

• Theatrical trailer, widescreen (2:03)
• Two radio spots, (:32), with posters in background
  
• "Interview with John Carpenter and Austin Stoker," Egyptian Theatre, January 25, 2002, full frame (23:06)
  
• Production gallery (16:54)
  
• DVD credits (three screens)
  

A near-perfect movie just got a little bit better and cheaper to own.

Did I say near-perfect? About ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13? Yes, and I stand by that statement. Anybody who doesn't love this film can stop talking to me right now, I don’t want to know you. I can't imagine anyone loving films without loving this movie. Oh, yeah, go off and make your indie dramas about life among the poor in the rural south or about teenagers in Hollywood or a documentary about labor issues or whatever, those area all fine and I might like them, too, but on a Friday night give me a drive-in on an early summer evening with the windows rolled down and that distinctive throbbing Carpenter theme coming through the tinny speakers.

In fact that's where I first saw ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13: the 82nd Avenue Drive-In, in Portland, Oregon, the weekend the film opened, with my good friend the actor Tim Watts and a six-pack of Bud. As a Bernard Herrmann fan and a student of film music I was instantly smitten with the score, that "Dump da da DA DUM," composed and performed by Carpenter himself (along with Tommy Wallace). And as a Hitchcocko-Hawksian, I instantly recognized the "editor" as a cunning pseudonym, realizing later that it announced the Hawksian tone of the movie to follow. Carpenter understands Hawks the way Todd Haynes understands Sirk.

Do I need to tell you the plot of ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13? I don't want to. See it for yourself. Just imagine NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD married to RIO BRAVO and you've got it: non-stop hoards of multi-ethnic hoods who don't care if they live or die laying siege to an abandoned police station (by the way, if I hear the movie right, it's actually Precinct Nine) in retaliation for a cop crackdown on gangs.

There are so many things to love about this movie. The stoicism of the late Darwin Joston as Napoleon Wilson (a character who was a forerunning of Carpenter's Eastmanesque Snake Plissken). The way Tony Burton as Wells says, "I'm doomed" (and he's right). The guts of killing a little girl on screen (the actress seems to have fun with it). Oh, and of course Laurie Zimmer as Leigh. With her, Carpenter created the near-perfect screen heroine, a modern Angie Dickinson. Zimmer only went on to make one other movie as far as I can tell (a Jean Eustache film called A DIRTY STORY, if it is the same Laurie Zimmer), but she still haunts my dreams.

ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13 has been on DVD before, also from Image Entertainment, but this is a new, improved (and cheaper) version, with a widescreen transfer enhanced for 16X9 TVs (DVDPlanet.com says that the disc also has DD 5.1, but that seems to be in error). The original disc had a commentary track from John Carpenter, which is retained here, but there are other interesting supplements. The most significant new feature is "Interview with John Carpenter and Austin Stoker," taped at the Egyptian Theatre on January 25, 2002. It's an under-30-minute transcription of a Q&A conducted after a screening of the film. What Carpenter and Stoker have to say is interesting but the sound is terrible. The questioners' voices are actually better recorded than Carpenter's.

Also on hard are the theatrical trailer, two radio spots, DVD credits, and an animated stills gallery (16:54). This is a nice feature, showing production stills, lobby cards, international posters, and other ephemera to the backdrop of the music, and segmented by white on black text that summarizes the history of the production. In one photo, you actually see Zimmer smiling, which she doesn't do in the film, and she is even lovelier. Oh, hell. ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13 is a perfect movie.

Honor Among Criminals

THE LOST HONOR OF KATHARINE BLUM: THE CRITERION COLLECTION

• Theatrical release: 10 October, 1975
  
• The Criterion Collection
  
• $29.95
  
• 104 minutes
  
• NR
  
• Region 1
  
• Street Date: 4 March, 2003

• Single disc
  
• Color
  
• Widescreen transfer (1.78:1) enhanced for widescreen televisions
  
• Animated, musical menu with 22-chapter scene selection
  
• Single sided, dual layered disc
  
• Dolby Digital mono
  
• Optional English subtitles
  
• Eight page insert with chapter list, DVD credits, cast and credits, and an essay by Amy Taubin
  
• Keep case

• Cast: Angela Winkler (Katharina Blum), Mario Adorf (Kommissar Beizmenne), Dieter Laser (Werner Toetges, the reporter), J24rgen Prochnow (Ludwig Goetten, the "terrorist")
  
• Directed by Volker Schlöndorff and Margarethe von Trotta
  
• Credited writers: Volker Schlöndorff and Margarethe von Trotta from the novel by Heinrich Böll Die verlorene Ehre der Katharina Blum: Wie Gewalt entstehen und wohin sie führen kan
  
• Cinematography: Jost Vacano
  
• Editing: Peter Przygodda
  
• Significant music: Hans Werner Henze
  
• Budget: NA
  
• Stated initial box office returns: NA

Plot in one sentence: After spending the night with a suspected terrorist, a young German woman is harassed by the authorities and the media.

Extras:

• Video interview with Volker Schlöndorff and Margarethe von Trotta, six chapters, in full frame, interviewed in August 2002 (29:26)
  
• Interview excerpts with Heinrich Böll from Ivar Barnabo Micheli's 1977 full frame documentary, with three-screen Böll bio (34:21)
  
• Interview with cinematographer Jost Vacano (STARSHIP TROOPERS), five chapters and widescreen, interviewed in October 2002 (16:21)
  
• Theatrical trailer, widescreen (3:13)

An obviously timely film, THE LOST HONOR OF KATHARINE BLUM is also a film that holds up surprisingly well since its release in 1975, almost 30 years ago. This is no doubt due to the austerity with which the film is presented, all blues and de-saturated colors and set in unglamorous places. And it is certainly one of the more accessible films from the New German Cinema of Wenders, Fassbinder, and Herzog, including the virtue of saying something meaningful and true about society.

Based on a novel by Heinrich Böll, itself based on his own experiences, the film tells the story of the title character (Angela Winkler), a politically innocent woman who takes care of her sick mother and works several jobs. One night she goes home with a guy she meets at a party. Little does she know that the man is under surveillance, as he is Ludwig Goetten (Jürgen Prochnow in an early role), a suspected terrorist. Breaking into Blum's apartment the next morning, the authorities find that Goetten has vanished. Being their only link to him, the cops interrogate Blum repeatedly, but though Blum is virtually apolitical, she does have a spark of rebellion in her, the same rebellion that compelled her to go home with the guy in the first place. Unfortunately, when the media gets its hands on the story, she comes under double harassment and is soon spurned by society. In the end, she does commit just the kind of act that the police suspect her of, having been radicalized by the forces of oppression, and sees Goetten one last time as the pair pass each other on the way to their respective jails.

Schlöndorff and von Trotta make Blum perhaps a tad too innocent, of her motivations, of her rebelliousness. Winkler is a plain woman, but still weirdly erotic in that way that movies can make you, which undermines part of her innocent mien. But this is a polemical film, and neither of the directors, nor the author of the book, feel the need to sympathize with the opposition's viewpoint, the media and the authorities holding more sway than the little people victimized in the movie.

This is a damned depressing story, but fortunately the supplementary material gives the viewer some hope. After all, Böll, a Nobel Laureate who was harassed in a similar fashion by Germany's powerful and influential right-wing press for asking justice for members of the Baader-Meinhoff gang, was able to survive his experiences and go on to write the book, subsequently turned into an influential movie. Böll himself appears in excepts from a fascinating documentary about him from 1977, not too long after these events, that goes into remarkable detail about the autobiographical and public elements that figure in his story.

Also on hand are interviews with the directors and the cinematographer. Schlöndorff and von Trotta offer interesting background, and Schlöndorff seems very far from the radical firebrand he must once have been (he is also careful to say that German youth were anti-Vietnam War, not necessarily anti-American, which I find hard to believe). Especially interesting and education is DP Jost Vacano comparing the differences between American and European shooting, and his own unusual approach to movies. The Criterion Collection's transfer, restored in both visual and audio, is excellent for the most part and a pertinent if unusual addition to the Criterion Collection.

Spy Kids

I SPY

• Theatrical release: 23 October, 2002
  
• Columbia Tristar Home Entertainment
  
• $27.94
  
• 96 minutes
  
• PG-13
  
• Region 1
  
• Street Date: 11 March, 2003

• Single disc
  
• Color
  
• Widescreen transfer (1.85:1), enhanced for widescreen televisions, with full frame option
  
• Animated, musical menu with 28-chapter scene selection
  
• Single sided, dual layered disc
  
• Dolby Digital 5.1, English, French
  
• English and French subtitles, and close captioning
  
• One sheet insert with chapter titles
  
• Keep case

• Cast: Eddie Murphy (Kelly), Owen Wilson (Alex), Famke Janssen (Rachel White), Malcolm McDowell (Gundars), Gary Cole (Carlos), Phill Lewis (Jerry, Kelly's manager) Larry Merchant (Vegas Commentator), Sugar Ray Leonard (Vegas Commentator)
  
• Directed by Betty Thomas
  
• Credited writers: Marianne Sellek Wibberley and Cormac Wibberley, plus Jay Scherick and David Ronn, from the characters created for the television show by Morton Fine and David Friedkin
  
• Cinematography: Oliver Wood
  
• Editing: Peter Teschner and Matt Friedman
  
• Significant music: Richard Gibbs
  
• Budget: $70 million
  
• Stated initial box office returns: $33.1 million

Plot in one sentence: An experienced spy and a neophyte join forces to bust an arms dealer.

Extras:

• Audio commentary track with Betty Thomas, editor Peter Teschnor, producer Jenno Toping, writers David Ronn and Jay Scherick
  
• "Cloak and Camouflage" (4:25)
  
• "Gadgets and Gizmos" (4:34)
  
• "Schematics and Blueprints" (5:01)
  
• "The Slugfest" (4:09)
  
• "Bonus" trailers for ADAPTATION (2:32), BLUE STREAK (2:32), FORMULA 51 (2:08), NATIONAL SECURITY (2:06), PUNCH-DRUNK LOVE (2:32)
  

I SPY comes to DVD and it seems even shorter than it did on the big screen, with the longest credit sequence and the least substantial content to justify it. My original review celebrates the one thing I liked about the film — Famke Janssen, whom I hope is in the sequel, if there is one, wearing the same outfit — and as far as the disc is concerned the supplementary material go a long way toward revealing why the film is such a dud.

Owen Wilson does have a certain charm and brings the only humor to the film (more so than Eddie Murphy), but it is clear from the yak track that both Wilson and Murphy interfered a lot in the conception of the film (which has four credited authors). They were probably trying to save it, because also from the commentary track Betty Thomas obviously was not enamored with the subject matter.

Over and over again, with her cynical remarks and sour voice, Thomas complains about spy movies and their hidebound tricks and maintains that she was trying to make fun of the genre and expose its lame conventions. Note to Thomas: the audience probably didn't want you to make fun of the genre, and in any case, if you had actually watched one in the last 15 years you would have seen that the spy genre itself, especially in the James Bond films, has incorporated self-mockery into the mix. Thomas comes across as a very unhappy and impatient and ignorant person, like someone getting up in arms over the cliché found in old time radio shows.

The members of the audio crew also go on and on talking about audiences cracking up all through the movie as if they were talking about a Marx brothers film, when all the re-viewer can see is Murphy shtick and things blowing up and chase scenes that, according to the implications of the plot itself, didn't need to exist. Who were all these laughing people? Industry guests? Carefully selected preview patrons? Even worse, often the track gabbers don’t even know why the audience was laughing: Thomas especially often wonders out loud why a particular scene evoked howls, born of some sort of blind density, and even though Thomas was once a stand-up comic. Supplementary material consists of the usual stuff, one long documentary divided up into four so as to avoid paying union rates and make the supplements seem more substantive. But again, this isn't exactly James Bond, and the extras are awfully paltry. I wonder why I laughed?

I Am Curious—Giallo

THE HOUSE WITH THE LAUGHING WINDOWS (La Casa dalle finestre che ridono)

• Theatrical release: 1976
  
• Image Entertainment
  
• $24.99
  
• 110 minutes
  
• NR
  
• Region 1
  
• Street Date: 11 March, 2003

• Single disc
  
• Color
  
• Widescreen transfer (1.85:1), enhanced for widescreen televisions
  
• Animated, musical menu with 18-chapter scene selection
  
• Single sided, dual layered disc
  
• Dolby Digital 5.1
  
• Optional English subtitles
  
• Keep case

• Cast: Lino Capolicchio (Stefano), Francesca Marciano (Francesca), Gianni Cavina (Coppola), Giulio Pizzirani (Antonio), Andrea Matteuzzi (Poppi), Bob Tonelli (Solmi)
  
• Directed by Pupi Avati
  
• Credited writers: Antonio Avati, Pupi Avati, Gianni Cavina, Maurizio Costanzo
  
• Cinematography: Pasquale Rachini
  
• Editing:Giuseppe Baghdighian
  
• Significant music: Amedeo Tommas
  
• Budget: unknown
  
• Stated initial box office returns: unknown

Plot in one sentence: A young painter visits a remote community with a mysterious past to restore a church fresco painted by a dead madman only to encounter a series of weird residents and unexpected deaths.

Extras:

• "Twenty-five Years of Cult," a retrospective documentary with optional English subtitles (16:01)
  
• Theatrical trailer, widescreen (3:27)
  
• Lobby Card Gallery (seven screens)
  
• Filmographies for Pupi Avati (three screens) and Lino Capolicchio (three screens)
  

Half the time a DVD reviewer is requesting from the studios a film he wants to keep or do a diatribe of; the rest of the time he is requesting a film he's never heard of and has no idea what he's getting. That's the case with me and THE HOUSE WITH THE LAUGHING WINDOWS. I knew it was an Italian slasher— how could you not, when it has one of those long-winded and inexplicable monikers characteristic of the giallo genre? Only upon viewing and researching it did I learn that in fact the film is considered one of the best of the lot, held in high esteem by connoisseurs of the genre. The book SPAGHETTI NIGHTMARES calls it "the most memorable film in the Italian repertoire. A miracle more than a movie."

It certainly holds viewer interest and is easier to follow than a lot of its confreres. The film concerns Stefano (Lino Capolicchio), a young, bearded, fresh-faced painter who has come to an isolated village to restore a fresco on a church wall. It turns out to be the work of a maniac, one Bruno Legnani, now dead, but a legend in the village,. The painting shows the torture of St. Sebastian, but with particular relish. Stefano hooks up with his old friend Antonio (Giulio Pizzirani), who eventually reveals that he has learned a terrible secret about Legnani and his paintings. But before he can pass on the secret, Antonio dies under mysterious circumstances. Stefano soon learns the secret on his own (as did we, during the credit sequence), i.e., that Legnani used live models actually enduring torture to create his paintings. As Stefano delves deeper into these mysteries he forges a romance with the local teacher (Francesca Marciano), who is finding life in the village unsettling.

Suffice it to say that there is much more to the story than this summary, which takes you up to about the first half hour, and leaves out a lot. But HOUSE is one of those movies that is much better to see without knowing too much about it.

Unlike some of the more hysterical and violent giallos, HOUSE is rather calm, almost sedate, and director Pupi Avati takes a deliberate approach to the material, which puts the viewer in mind of DON'T LOOK NOW, a much greater horror film. Avati demands that you really look at his film, because he has woven a subtle visual narrative that corresponds to the enacted narrative (as befits a film about a mad painter), and in addition the relationships among the characters are much more subtle and complicated, even realistic, than in run of the mill exploitation films. It's in that minor genre of "weird village" movies like THE WICKER MAN or any number of episodes of THE AVENGERS in which someone comes to a town that seems to close up literally and figurative when questions are asked. The film's three-stage ending is chilling.

The widescreen transfer of HOUSE WITH THE LAUGHING WINDOWS struck me as pretty good for such a film almost 30 years old. Supplementary material is minimal but effective. Aside from some lobby cards, two brisk filmographies, and the theatrical trailer, the disc offers "Twenty-five Years of Cult," a short documentary that features interviews with Avati and his brother, and the lead, Lino Capolicchio. It's informative (and spoils the plot!), and puts inspires the idea that someone should do a massive documentary about giallos on the order of Martin Scorsese's films about American and Italian cinema.

GOODE, not Plenty

SOL GOODE