Big Suits and Revenge Français: on shelves and screens this month

Get into the groove: Stop Making Sense (1984) has arrived on 4K disc.
Get into the groove: Stop Making Sense (1984) has arrived on 4K disc.

A Sergio Leone classic, David Byrne’s miraculous movements, French vigilante thrills, undead romance and an Ousmane Sembène box set are among this month’s Shelf Life highlights.

May is the month when the international cinematic community converges on the south of France for Cannes, arguably the world’s most prestigious and influential film festival. Letterboxd members like Ana A. and Sean Liu have been diligently keeping track of the festival’s evolving lineup, including sidebars like Critic’s Week and Director’s Fortnight, as well as the main competition; you can take advantage of their archival work through the lists linked above. But for Shelf Life, we’re taking a closer look at the lineup for Cannes Classics, a section of the festival spotlighting “celebrations” and restorations of classic films.

This year’s centerpiece is a new restoration from Japanese studio Toho Co. of Akira Kurosawa’s all-time classic Seven Samurai, which marks its 70th anniversary in 2024. Also celebrating milestone birthdays at Cannes this year are Paris, Texas (which turns 40) and The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, which won the Palme d’Or at Cannes in 1964. These will screen alongside less famous but equally weighty titles like Abel Gance’s Napoleon, an expanded restoration of the hard-to-find silent masterpiece that the press release calls “sixteen years in the making.”

With films by Dalton Trumbo, Tsui Hark, Ousmane Sembène (also featured in this month’s column!), Shyam Benegal and a little-known auteur of the New American Cinema named Steven Spielberg also on this year’s docket, it’s safe to say that, in time, these movies will trickle outwards from Cannes to art houses around the world and eventually onto physical media. Shelf Life will be there, following them every step of the way.

Once Upon a Time in the West

Available on 4K UHD May 14 from Paramount Presents.

Once Upon a Time in the West

Once Upon a Time in the West 1968

C'era una volta il West

Once Upon a Time in the West, Sergio Leone’s 1968 follow-up to his equally iconic Dollars trilogy, feels epic in every way. Early on, there’s a scene where Claudia Cardinale, playing a mail-order bride, fresh from New Orleans with soft eyes and a spine of steel, rides through Monument Valley on her way to her new home. Dwarfed by the majestic rock formations, she and her wagon appear small and insignificant, unprepared for the carnage awaiting them at their destination.

The choice to bring an Italian production all the way to Arizona just to shoot that scene was a deliberate one: by the mid ’60s, Monument Valley was already an iconic location featured in many films, including John Ford’s The Searchers. Once Upon a Time in the West is a sort of über-Western, taking the fragments of other films and combining them into an expansive whole. As Sean writes: “Leone, his film critic pal Dario Argento and a hotshot young director named Bernardo Bertolucci spent months binging every ancient Hollywood oater they could find while coming up with the story, stealing scenes and scenarios willy-nilly. Once Upon a Time In The West isn’t just any old Western, it’s all of them.” (No wonder it’s a favorite of Quentin Tarantino’s.)

In the ’60s, particularly early in the cycle, “spaghetti Westerns” were considered rather vulgar by critics, who reacted negatively to Italian directors’ cynical, bloodstained take on an all-American genre. And Once Upon a Time in the West does have something to say about the violence of American mythmaking—a topic you can read about at length in ScreeningNotes’ analysis of the film. But from more than 50 years’ distance, it’s difficult to conceive of this, or any of Leone’s work, as disreputable: Instead, it’s “a really handsome movie in every way,” as Will notes. Every element of the craft is masterly, from the casting to the sound design to Ennio Morricone’s sublime score. It’s slow, but captivating, “mark[ing] the birth of a new style, new approach and striking maturity in the director’s work,” CinemaClown writes.

It’s shifted from iconoclastic upstart to revered classic, in short, a status that is further cemented by the restoration featured on Paramount Presents’ new 4K UHD disc. Now, Paramount Presents titles aren’t the most deluxe releases out there in terms of packaging and extras. But the restoration is legit, featuring both the HDR 10 and Dolby Vision versions of the film sourced from the original camera negative as restored by Paramount, Italy’s L’immagine Ritrovata and Martin Scorsese’s Film Foundation. Ritrovata restorations tend to be a little yellow, but Marty himself advised this one, and the result is ravishing—just the sweat beading on the cowboys’ upper lips is beautiful enough to make you cry.

Stop Making Sense

Available now on Blu-ray and 4K UHD from A24.

Stop Making Sense

Stop Making Sense 1984

“I have a tape I’d like to play.” The image of rubber man David Byrne bopping and bouncing across the stage is iconic enough to build a whole movie around—as Jonathan Demme (with an assist from Byrne, who gets a “conceived for the stage by” credit) did in their now equally iconic 1984 movie Stop Making Sense. Beginning with Byrne alone on stage playing along to his cassette tape, the film adds layers (and players) with each subsequent musical number, building to an ensemble ten musicians strong. Demme’s camera snakes around them and among them, spotlighting touring players like Bernie Worrell and Lynn Mabry (both of Parliament-Funkadelic) before drawing the eye back to the core band members purely through staging and camera movement.

I saw the new restoration at home and couldn’t help bopping around my living room: the energy of this film is nothing short of electrifying, and the debut of Byrne’s iconic Big Suit an hour and four minutes in made me giddy. Irmavep also had a euphoric experience while watching, writing: “Too many perfect beautiful eternal moments to count. When the organ hit in ‘Once in a Lifetime,’ I felt transcendence.” So did Maris, who simply says it was “blissful as f—k.”

Stop Making Sense’s review arc on Letterboxd is as miraculous as the film, with an astonishing 63% of members awarding it a perfect five stars. Three of those five-star ratings come from comedian Demi Adejuyigbe, who calls it “the most joyous film ever made” in one review and shares a transcendent experience dancing along to a screening at Los Angeles movie theater Vidiots in another.

Indie juggernaut A24 actually supervised a new 4K restoration of the film, which made its debut at last year’s TIFF. A24 isn’t particularly known for its archival work, but IHE was impressed with their restoration work here, noting that the visuals and editing were noticeably cleaner and several musical numbers featured new footage and extended cuts. It’s true, two new extended cuts of Stop Making Sense are bowing on Blu-ray and 4K UHD in May through A24, whose merch game remains untouchable.

Seeing Red: Three French Vigilante Thrillers

Available on Blu-ray May 7 from Fun City Editions.

Street of the Damned

Street of the Damned 1984

Rue Barbare
Black List

Black List 1984

Liste noire
Shot Pattern

Shot Pattern 1982

Tir groupé

Seeing Red: Three French Vigilante Thrillers shares a few characteristics with its sister set Fatal Femmes, also released by Fun City Editions: street-level authenticity, dire circumstances, determined women with short, practical haircuts. Neige and La Garce transported us to the gritty underbelly of ’80s Paris, and Shot Pattern, Street of the Damned and Black List are set in—well, it’s the same gritty underbelly, but with an even more pulpy sensibility. To wit: Street of the Damned (pictured above) features an underground pit-fighting ring run entirely by children in leather jackets that plays like an unhinged deleted scene from a Robert Rodriguez movie.

No one embodies these films’ aesthetic better than Black List star Annie Girardot. Her close-cropped red hair and long black vinyl trench coat are iconic, and her revenge scenes are as ice-cold as Christina Lindberg’s in Thriller: A Cruel Picture a decade earlier. Black List is relatively unseen on Letterboxd, with only two English-language member reviews on the site—one of which is from Letterboxd senior editor Mitchell Beaupre.

It’s a real hidden gem, as is Street of the Damned. A sweaty, oddly paced and plotted film in the Walking Tall “just can’t take it anymore” mold, Travis Woods says it “plays like a subdued version of Walter Hill’s The Warriors with less action and more wearily existential smoking.” Similarly, Shot Pattern comes from the Death Wish school of revenge thrillers, but with a Gallic twist that Travis (who recorded two feature commentaries for the set) describes as “a French cousin to Abel Ferrara’s early ’80s gutter sleaze art-pulp.” Crime just feels different en français, you know? It’s all the psychosexual ennui and bladed weapons, I think.

By the way, if you’re like us and love what Fun City Editions are doing, be sure to check out their brand new Letterboxd HQ account.

Cemetery Man

Available on 4K UHD from Severin Films.

Cemetery Man

Cemetery Man 1994

DellaMorte DellAmore

Italian B-movies are a delicious mishmash. As with many horror films from that country, you can watch Cemetery Man in English or Italian, and neither one feels quite right. Despite the character’s very Italian name, graveyard attendant/zombie killer Francesco Dellamorte is played by an English actor, Rupert Everett, who delivers his lines in English while the rest of the cast speaks Italian. But the dub isn’t the only strange, fascinating thing about Michele Soavi’s 1994 (necro)romantic zombie movie.

Also known as DellaMorte DellAmore (with capitals meant to play up the pun in Italian), the film is based on a novel, which is obvious from the above-average interiority of its main character. It’s also a romance, one in which Francesco’s lonely assistant finds love with the severed head of a young girl decapitated with a shovel. It’s as gruesome and perverse as that description implies, but also weirdly sweet; combined with Soavi’s unhinged camerawork and a bizarre Kafkaesque streak, that unique tone results in something that Tears_In_Rain describes as “a phantasmagorical gothic romance,” “a necrophile’s wet dream” and “one of the most batsh–t crazy zombie films since The Return of the Living Dead—all of which are correct.

Once a hard-to-find cult item, Cemetery Man was pulled from obscurity last fall by Severin Films, which featured its 4K scan from the Cinecittà negative of the movie in a massive four-disc 4K UHD set that debuted during the label’s Black Friday sale last fall. That’s still available if you want to go all out, or a more modest (and affordable) two-disc edition is out May 28. That one’s missing a soundtrack CD and a disc’s worth of interviews, cutting the bonus features down to a mere three hours from the special edition’s six.

Three Revolutionary Films by Ousmane Sembène

Available on Blu-ray May 21 from The Criterion Collection.

Emitaï

Emitaï 1971

Xala

Xala 1975

Ceddo

Ceddo 1977

Black Girl —Ousmane Sembène’s best known movie abroad, and his sole appearance on the most recent Sight and Sound poll—is a modest, humanist character study. It’s a great film, but it’s an outlier in his’s filmography. Most of the work produced by the “father of African cinema,” who Sally says “should be heralded as one of cinema’s most powerful voices,” is explicitly political and dialectical—like the films in Criterion’s new box set Three Revolutionary Films by Ousmane Sembène.

If you’re not already familiar, New Yorker critic Richard Brody wrote an impassioned and informative overview of Sembène’s career last fall, when NYC’s Film Forum debuted the 4K restorations of the three titles in this set. All hailing from the 1970s, each of them showcases a different facet of the filmmaker’s explorations of Senegal’s colonialist past and neocolonialist present: Emitaï, released in 1971, decolonizes World War Two movies by drawing on the Sembène’s memories of that period. The result, Elyes writes in a five-star review, “is anti-colonial but also feminist, and wrestles with notions of tradition and culture in the face of a changing landscape, a changing world.”

1977’s Ceddo is similarly weighty in its approach to history and African identity, an approach teamgal compares to “a piece of theater”, adding that “as is his wont, Ousmane Sembène works expertly with a cast of non-professionals, leaning heavily into his beautifully constructed, highly politicized screenplay.” In this group, Xala (pictured above) from 1975 is the outlier, an absurdist satire that blends a trenchant political statement with an extended boner joke. Now that’s range! If you dug previous Shelf Life picks Black God, White Devil or West Indies—or, ideally, both—this set should be just your artistic speed.


‘Shelf Life’ is a monthly column and newsletter by Katie Rife, highlighting restorations, repertory showings and re-releases in theaters and on disc.

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