Video Dispatches: Holiday Gift Edition Vol. 1

Video Dispatches is a regular column covering recent home video releases. This issue specifically highlights many options worth considering for the holiday gifting season.

Abbott and Costello: The Complete Universal Pictures Collection (1940-1955) – Shout! Factory

Shout! Factory’s new box set, which collects 28 films from their Universal Pictures work — 1940’s One Night in the Tropics to 1955’s Abbott and Costello Meet the Mummy. I came to the set as a novice, and after just skimming the surface with a half-dozen films, I can attest to the set’s value to both the uninitiated and the long-time fan.

The formula quickly reveals itself: Abbott and Costello, the straight man and his goofy foil, are two-bit huckster buddies grinding out a job on the fringe of society — often salesmen trying to eke out an existence — who get pulled into a scenario, be it a haunted house or the Pacific Isle, where they scurry for survival.

Though, as mentioned in the booklet essay, the public became inundated with Abbott and Costello films at the time, now, decades past, the formula becomes very comfortable. It helps that the vocal gags, primarily based on Costello’s confusion, and the plots are always being refreshed. It was nice to turn these films into a routine for a week or so, and thankfully, there’s plenty left in the box for me to still get to.

The King of Queens (1998-2007) – Mill Creek Entertainment

It became coincidentally quite useful to go through both Abbott and Costello and King of Queens in tandem, revealing at least one significant influence on Kevin James’ character, as well as the lasting reach of the duo, which has imprinted itself all over countless sitcoms.

Though celebrated by plenty during its popular 9-season run on CBS, I feel like King of Queens is unfairly denigrated in retrospect, wrongfully grouped with its same-universe sister show, Everybody Loves Raymond, which actually is mostly unfunny and one-note.

King of Queens, however, is often terrific and boasts good performances by its core ensemble. Running through this set in chronological order, yes the show can hit some brief ruts that play too heavily on Doug’s anxieties surrounding his wife and male identity, but always manages to dig itself out — not doubling down on such matters like Raymond. I was also happy to see just how little of Jerry Stiller’s character here overlaps with his previous role of grumpy father on Seinfeld.

The set being from Mill Creek means it’s not a prestigious collection, but I honestly don’t need anything else for this series. It’s affordable, in a nice box and presented in its original aspect ratio, which is becoming rare for too many sitcom reissues.

Spirited Away (2001) – Shout! Factory

No one needs to be told about the greatness of Hayao Miyazaki’s Spirited Away, one of the great works of animation this century, so I’ll spare you my thoughts. Studio Ghibli have decided to put out a new collector’s edition of the film this winter, presumably for the holidays, that comes in a rather impressive squared box. Inside the box is a thick, illustrated three-page book that includes the film’s Blu-ray and soundtrack on CD. Also included in the box is a 40-page booklet with various writings.

But what strikes me most about this book is its timing. This is coming out simultaneously with all Ghibli films finally available via streaming on an HBO service. Most people interested in this column don’t need persuading or informing of the vast differences between owning a physical copy of a film and having access to a corporate-owned service that currently is streaming the film, but too many view their physical copies as obsolete once they can suddenly hit play on the same title via a streaming service. So, perhaps Ghibli is overcompensating with this deluxe set and showing that, for many, the craft of the tangible property is interesting and worthwhile. Or, perhaps they just know that a lot of people love this film and will appreciate such a gift.

Besides the new physical component, what does this new set have that the prior Blu-ray didn’t? If you didn’t own it, that Blu-ray was substantial in itself, at least for its price. This set has all of the same disc features and essays, but adds two new essays, one by Kenneth Turan and a lengthier one by Leonard Maltin.

Apocalypse Now: Final Cut (1979) – Lionsgate

The early days of a new format on the consumer market rarely bring out a set as nice as the one for Apocalypse Now, which was precipitated by the film’s 40th anniversary and the recent theatrical run of Francis Ford Coppola’s last and final cut of his 1979 Vietnam classic, Apocalypse Now.

The set contains all three cuts: theatrical, Redux and Final Cut. Having seen them all, I honestly don’t have a strong preference of one over the other — there are distinct things I like about all of them. Which cut I’m likely to watch would probably depend more on mood and time than anything else, which is to say, having all three together is a privilege. Also a privilege is the bounty of special features here, including a couple new ones, specifically a Q&A between Coppola and Steven Soderbergh.

I previously owned the Complete Dossier set on DVD, which, while beautifully packaged, was missing one important feature presented here (including the Final Cut): Heart of Darkness, the on-set documentary by Eleanor Coppola, Fox Bahr and George Hickenlooper. It’s a terrific film on its own, and is also given an optional commentary with Eleanor and Francis.

RoboCop (1987) – Arrow

Previous to watching Arrow’s new Blu-ray of Paul Verhoeven’s RoboCop, the only other time I saw the film was as a child, on a VHS tape. As you can imagine, revisiting it as an adult was a treat — like seeing it anew. For one, I was able to see Verhoeven’s chosen cut — Arrow’s set, like the Apocalypse Now set, features three cuts (director’s, theatrical and TV version). The Blu-ray, scanned in 4K from the original negative, is also a far cry from the videotape my grandmother likely sourced from an auction.

Perhaps more importantly, I was not mature enough to grasp what Verhoeven was saying about the privatization of public services, the omnipresent reach of the military industrial complex, the surveillance state of police work, the commodification of bodies … and how all of these things work in tandem eat away at a city like Detroit.

The incredible thing about RoboCop, though, is how Verhoeven is able to question all of these things without being didactic. Better yet is how he’s able to infuse real pathos into Murphy’s slow sentience, just as well as he’s able to provoke laughter in the accidental murder of a corporate suit during a test of a pre-RoboCop model.

I’m not saying anything new when I call RoboCop the masterpiece of one of our great satirists. And Arrow’s stacked new release, which comes in a loaded box or less expensive but still packed Steelbook version (both include supplements for both the novice and the nerd), is a good way to experience Verhoeven in high gear.