Carlos is presented in three, feature-length episodes that track his rise to power and notoriety; the man at the peak of his powers and his greatest triumph; and his inevitable decline and capture. Early on, Assayas establishes his take on Carlos (Ramirez), presenting him as a vain man who, at one point, is seen admiring his own naked body in a mirror to the strains of “Dreams Never End” by New Order. We also see him espouse his personal philosophy, that true glory is “doing one’s duty in silence. Behind every bullet we fire, there will be an idea because we act in harmony in our conscience.” And initially, he seems to adhere to this but once he becomes a superstar among international terrorists, he embraces and cultivates his inflated reputation.

In the first episode, Assayas shows Carlos’ clumsy attempts to impress Wadie Haddad (Kaabour), co-founder of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP), with a bungled assassination and a failed bombing. This segment builds towards an intense showdown between French domestic intelligence agents and Carlos at one of his girlfriends’ apartment in Paris where we see just how dangerous he is when cornered. The second episode starts off literally with a bang as Carlos and his group arrives at the OPEC headquarters in Vienna and takes oil ministers from all over the world hostage in 1975. This was his highest profile operation done at the height of his powers.

By the end of the second episode, Carlos has been kicked out of the PFLP and he starts up his own terrorist organization, effectively becoming a mercenary. The third episode tracks his inevitable decline as he wages a war of terror on France in the early to mid-‘80s after they arrest his wife and a close associate. It’s costly battle for both sides but more so for Carlos who can no longer rely on his reputation to get jobs or find safe haven in countries that used to be sympathetic towards him. He becomes more vulnerable to attacks because he has more to lose, chief among them a family.

Edgar Ramirez’s magnetic presence really comes across early on as he exudes the cocky confidence of the man and conveys his complete commitment to the cause he espouses so brazenly. The actor has Carlo’s terrorist swagger down cold, showing us the smooth ladies man with his perfectly coifed looks and stylish attire. Known prior to Carlos mostly for his strong supporting turn in Tony Scott’s Domino (2005), he finally gets to be front and center, playing the role of a lifetime: a larger than life historical figure in a sprawling epic. Assayas and Ramirez’s fascinating take on Carlos is that he viewed himself as a kind of rock star, a charismatic personality who clearly saw himself as someone of importance, destined to do great things. This is evident in the way Carlos idolized and emulated Che Guevara during the OPEC raid, sporting the iconic revolutionary’s trademark beret and scruffy facial hair look as if making a statement. Also, the rock star analogy is further explored in the use of post-punk music along with the third episode, which could be seen as Carlos’ “fat Elvis” period of decline. Ramirez commands every scene he’s in, especially the OPEC raid where he prowls around rooms and hallways, expertly orchestrating this attack in order to get what he wants.

In an intriguing break from tradition, Assayas eschews a traditional orchestral score for source music, predominately post-punk rock. The opening track is “Loveless Love” by the Feelies, which sets the tone of the film. As the song builds so does the tension of the scene it play over – that of Carlos attempting to assassinate a pro-Israeli businessman in England. Assayas also uses a few tracks by Wire, one by A Certain Ratio and a memorable action sequence scored to “Sonic Reducer” by the Dead Boys. The attention to period detail and architecture is also excellent as Assayas takes us on a perverse travelogue through Europe and the Middle East with Carlos as our guide.

With its color-coded sequences and its objective direction that is slick and confident, Carlos resembles Traffic (2000) and Syriana (2005). These films are all ambitious and expansive in scope as they expertly blend personal politics with bigger political movements. Carlos is a towering achievement, a fascinating study of a man who was a reflection of the times in which he lived in and is embodied by Ramirez’s powerful performance spanning several decades. Assayas’ film is very relevant to our times as it examines the complex machinations of international terrorism with the agendas of terrorist groups clashing with that of the governments of countries all over the world. Carlos sees the struggle of the oppressed against imperialist regimes as a war that he helps fight. With the end of the Cold War, he is marginalized and considered a relic from a bygone era. Assayas has crafted an incredible film that is smartly written, well-acted and masterfully directed.

Special Features:

The first disc includes a theatrical trailer.

The second disc starts off with “Shooting the OPEC Sequence,” a 22-minute featurette examining how Olivier Assayas shot Carlos and his team’s raid on the OPEC headquarters on December 21, 1975. The director offers his thoughts on what he hoped to achieve with the film over footage of the cast and crew working on location. This extra provides some insight into his working methods.

There is an interview with Denis Lenoir, one of the film’s two cinematographers. He shot the second half of Carlos and talks about his approach towards the job. He didn’t prepare much for the film because he came in halfway through and goes into some of the technical aspects (i.e. film stock, lighting, etc.). Lenoir also talks about how Assayas works.

Lenoir also provides a selected-scene commentary, going into detail about the technical aspects of six scenes from the film. For example, he mentions the kinds of lenses he used, the lighting scheme and whether he used hand-held cameras or not.

The third disc features a 43-minute interview with director Olivier Assayas. He gives his take on Carlos and the times that shaped the man. The filmmaker talks about his intentions for the film. He admits that it did not originate with him because he would’ve considered too complicated a task to undertake and was actually approached to direct. Assayas talks about growing up during Carlos’ heyday and also about making the film itself.

There is also a 20-minute interview with actor Edgar Ramirez. He was drawn to the film because it dealt with the mechanics of terrorism and politics. The actor speaks eloquently about his take on Carlos and how the OPEC raid defined him. Ramirez also speaks about how he prepared for the role, including all kinds of research he conducted as well as gaining and then losing weight for the various periods of Carlos’ life.

The fourth and last disc starts off with “Carlos: Terrorist without Borders,” an hour-long documentary that aired on French television in 1997. It fleshes out many of the events depicted in the film and provides some background into Carlos’ politics as well as his rise to prominence. The doc mixes compelling news footage (including actual footage of Carlos) with talking head soundbites to paint a fascinating portrait of the man.

Also included is a 1995 interview with Hans-Joachim Klein, the German left-wing militant that was conducted by Daniel Laconte who went on to help produce Carlos. Most interesting, Klein wears a disguise and talks about how he must lie on a daily basis lest he be discovered by those who want to get him. At times, he comes across as more than a little eccentric.

Finally, there is “Maison de France,” an 88-minute documentary about the 1983 bombing of the Maison de France in West Berlin that was orchestrated by Johannes Weinrich for Carlos. It puts the incident in context with the political climate at the time. There is pretty gripping news footage of the bombing and the location is revisited in recent years to see how it has changed.

Schrader wastes no time in showing the Hearst kidnapping and in doing so doesn’t spend much time establishing who she is or letting us get to know her, which makes it a little hard, initially, to empathize with her plight. He proceeds to show the relentless indoctrination the SLA did on Hearst – keeping her in a closet, opening the door occasionally to spout chunks of their radical left-wing manifesto. The tag-team of sensory deprivation and being force-fed SLA dogma wears down her defenses. Schrader shoots these scenes in shadowy rooms with distorted lenses and skewed shots accompanied by creepy, atmospheric music that evokes the claustrophobic feeling of a horror film.

Natasha Richardson does a good job of conveying the gradual breaking down of Hearst’s mental state to the point where she would be receptive to the SLA’s propaganda. The actress not only looks physically haggard but you can see it in her eyes – that glazed look of desperation. Richardson also captures the pampered softness of a woman born with a silver spoon in the mouth – the granddaughter of publishing tycoon William Randolph Hearst. If we didn’t sympathize with her early on then we do while watching her get brainwashed. This innocent, young woman is bullied and treated like a prisoner of war. They get her to the point where she wants to join their cause and has no problem regurgitating their beliefs. In addition to Richardson, Schrader assembled an interesting cast of character actors to play SLA members: Ving Rhames as their militant leader, William Forsythe as a guy who wishes he was black and also Dana Delany and Frances Fisher.

With the rise of domestic terrorism in the last ten years, Patty Hearst remains eerily relevant. By the end of the film she goes from being programmed by the SLA to being programmed by doctors, lawyers and medical experts. For a low budget film, Schrader gives it a slick, cinematic look. The locations are sparse with no pretty details, just stark by design. This is contrasted with stylish lighting and color schemes. The film’s focus is on Hearst and the insular world of the SLA, which makes sense as the outside world’s reaction to what happened is well-documented. This is Hearst’s story told mostly from her perspective. Is she merely a spoiled rich brat or brainwashed revolutionary? Patty Hearst makes a case for both and leaves it up to the viewer to make up their own mind.

Special Features:

Theatrical trailer.

Now, we have lived through the hype and witnessed the feast for the eyes presented by the glorious pageantry of the global phenomenon that became their wedding day. The segment of their love story portrayed in this movie is their blissful University days and subsequent struggles for their relationship to survive once they left the heady tomfoolery of student life behind them. Much of the movie gives us a rather shallow insight in to the privileged and cosseted world of Hooray Henrys and Henriettas at work and play.

Now that the experience is over and their married life has already begun in real terms, William & Kate: The Movie does somewhat pale in to insignificance compared to the real thing and after the back to back media bombardment. We perhaps all now have our own interpretations about what really happened and don’t really need a schmaltzy film version to re-cover old ground.

The atmosphere that William & Kate: The Movie does evoke well is the claustrophobic media pressure suffered by Kate Middleton and her family after the relationship became public. Their steely determination to stand by their man as they battle to adapt to the intrusion that is anything other than ordinary sharply contrasts with the weary acceptance of Prince William and his father.

The question remains – Does this movie provide satisfying fodder for even the most ardent of royal watchers? When witnessing the final scene against a backdrop of a breathtaking African sunset, the conclusion is that no fresh insights are offered, but it is a very topical and entertaining way for romantics and royalists alike to indulge their beliefs in the enduring power of love and happy endings.

We are introduced to Gilbert (Broadbent) angrily reading a review criticizing his and Sullivan’s latest work, Princess Ida. They have stopped working together because Sullivan (Corduner) feels that their collaboration has become routine. However, he is chronically sick, taking morphine injections every day in order to function. He heads off to Paris to indulge in their brothels while Gilbert pulls Ida and replaces it with a revival of The Sorcerer. Fortunately, his wife Lucy (Manville) takes him to the Japanese Exhibition in London and he becomes fascinated by Kabuki Theater. He experiences an epiphany and comes up with the genesis for The Mikado. He is soon reunited with Sullivan and the rest of the film plays out the backstage trials, tribulations and hijinxs that ensue.

Jim Broadbent and Allan Corduner do an excellent job of portraying one of the most famous artistic duos of all-time. The actors convey how these artists with very different approaches to theater brought out the best in each other when they collaborated together. They weren’t afraid to challenge each other and ended up complimenting their respective strengths and weaknesses. The attention to period detail, like the richness of Gilbert’s study, is quite impressive. Also of note are the period costumes, especially the vibrant Japanese attire for The Mikado.

Not surprisingly, one’s enjoyment for Topsy-Turvy hinges on your love for Gilbert and Sullivan musicals. Leigh’s film is well-written, brilliantly acted (Broadbent has never been better) and masterfully directed but personally the subject matter fails to engage me. I prefer his contemporary dramas but for those who like period musicals, this film is pure catnip. While Topsy-Turvy is a superb backstage drama and biopic, it certainly isn’t for everyone and this resulted in fairly dismal box office returns when it was first released. Kudos to the Criterion Collection for giving Mike Leigh’s film the deluxe treatment. This is the kind of niche film that they excel at championing.

Special Features:

The first disc features an audio commentary by writer/director Mike Leigh. The always engaging filmmaker speaks passionately about the subject matter. He also talks about the nuts and bolts of his filmmaking process – i.e. how he works with actors, how he establishes mood and atmosphere, and so on. Leigh also tells a few filming anecdotes on this solid track.

The second disc starts off with a conversation between Leigh and musical director Gary Yershon. They talk about the differences between Gilbert and Sullivan and how much they drew from historical source material in Topsy-Turvy. Leigh also talks about his intentions, like how he wanted to comment on the filmmaking process. This is a lively and memorable discussion.

Also included are four deleted scenes including a cut song. Leigh was contractual obligated to deliver a certain running time and even though he pushed it, footage was still cut.

“A Sense of History” is a 22-minute short film that Leigh made in 1992 starring and written by Jim Broadbent. In it, he plays the 23rd Earl of Leete, who takes a film crew on a tour of his estate. It was at the time of the making of this short film that Broadbent and Leigh began talking about Topsy-Turvy.

There is a featurette made at the time of the flim’s release that is a fairly standard mix of talking head soundbites and clips from the film. Leigh and some of the cast speak eloquently about the film and Gilbert and Sullivan.

Finally, there is a theatrical trailer and three T.V. spots.

Secretariat chronicles the life of the race horse of the same name and how his owner, Penny Chenery (Lane), and trainer, Lucien Laurin (Malkovich), were instrumental in him winning the Triple Crown of Thoroughbred Racing in 1973. After her mother dies, Penny helps her brother (Baker) organize their parents’ estate and this includes several horses that her father (Glenn) almost sold. After finding out that the family trainer tried to sell the horses illegally, she fires him and takes control herself. Having little to no knowledge about horses, Penny asks eccentric trainer Lucien to help her but he’s lost interest in the sport of horse racing. However, he changes his mind and is soon training a newborn horse that has none of the traditional racing traits. The rest of the film follows the sports movie template as it tracks Secretariat’s unconventional rise and the sacrifices Penny makes and the obstacles she faces along the way.

What makes this predictable tale watchable is the performance of Lane and John Malkovich. They play well of each other as her strong-willed optimist goes up against his curmudgeonly character. Visually, they are a study in contrasts as Penny dresses conservatively while Lucien sports all kinds of flamboyant attire. Their scenes together crackle with an energy that is fun to watch.

Director Randall Wallace does a good job of conveying the energy and excitement of a horse race through editing and dynamic point-of-view angles that put you right in the race. You can’t help but get caught up in them even though their outcomes are known. Lane delivers inspirational speeches like a trooper and does a good job portraying the real-life Penny. This role may not get her an Oscar but no one could accuse her of phoning in her performance in an entertaining and engaging film.

Special Features:

“Heart of a Champion” is your standard making of featurette as cast, crew and horse racing experts talk about Secretariat and bringing his extraordinary story to the big screen including some fantastic vintage footage of him in action. Best of all, the real Penny tells her side of the story.

Also included are three deleted scenes with optional commentary by director Randall Wallace. They shed a bit more light on Penny’s home life and there is also a bit more character development. Some of this footage disrupted the flow of the film or was redundant.

Finally, there is a standard movie tie-in music video for “It’s Who You Are” by A.J. Michalka. The video cuts footage of her performing with clips from the film.

Much like Good Times, Chastity (1969) is clearly a product of the 1960s with trippy visuals and a we-can-change-the-world idealism. The film begins with Cher running desperately across a beach. Where is she going? Do we care? After the fluff of Good Times, Sonny Bono went behind the camera and wrote and produced Cher in this gritty tale of a rebellious free spirit. This is the first on-screen appearance of the tough-talking Cher that we all know and love. She rebuffs creepy guys hitting on her in trademark blunt fashion, rips off a gas station and smokes a joint. Chastity is your basic counterculture hero, living on the fringes of mainstream society and sticking it to The Man. The film and the accompanying soundtrack did so badly that Cher didn’t act again for over ten years.

Silkwood (1983) is among some of the best socially-conscious films to come out of Hollywood in the early to mid-1980s. The film is based on the real-life Karen Silkwood (played by Streep in the film) who worked at a nuclear power plant and when she found out about their shady dealings and unsafe working conditions tried to blow the whistle only to die in a mysterious car accident. Cher was in the big leagues with this film, acting opposite Meryl Streep and was directed by the legendary Mike Nichols. Cher drops her glamorpuss look and gets real, disappearing into her character. She more than holds her own with the likes of Streep, Kurt Russell, Craig T. Nelson, and Fred Ward. Silkwood was a hit with critics and nominated for five Academy Awards, including Cher for Best Supporting Actress.

Moonstruck (1987) was the My Big Fat Geek Wedding (2002) of its day only infinitely better and about an Italian family as opposed to a Greek one. Watching Norman Jewison’s film again, you realize just how much Nia Vardalos’ film is heavily indebted to it. If Moonstruck is La Boheme than Greek Wedding is Tony and Tina’s Wedding. Loretta (Cher) is engaged to Johnny (Aiello). They act like an old married couple and they haven’t even tied the knot yet! And therein lies the problem – their relationship lacks passion. He is called away suddenly to Italy to see his mother on her deathbed and asks Loretta to invite his estranged brother Ronny (Cage) to their wedding. Ronny works in a bakery and is bitter over having lost his hand in a freak accident, blaming Johnny for what happened. In a classic case of opposites attracting, Loretta and Ronny find themselves irresistibly drawn to each other. Like Greek Wedding, Moonstruck does heighten ethnic stereotypes for comedic effect but the latter film does so sincerely and with class. Moonstruck perpetuates a lot of Italian stereotypes but not in a grating way, rather with affection. The crucial difference between the two films is tone. Where Greek Wedding is all cuddly, feel good sitcom, Moonstruck has some bite to it, an edge as represented by Nicolas Cage’s passionate performance. Best of all it has a wonderful sense of romantic naiveté, a cinematic love letter to New York City.

Hot off her success with Moonstruck, Cher used her clout to have two directors and one actress replaced on her next film, Mermaids (1990). Regardless of the production problems, the end result is a sweet, funny and even poignant coming-of-age story. Set in the early 1960s, Mermaids is narrated by Charlotte (Ryder), a teenage girl who dreams of becoming a nun – quite possibly a reaction to her headstrong mother Mrs. Flax (Cher) who packs up and moves her two children every time a relationship with a man doesn’t work out … which is a lot. Mrs. Flax’s wandering ways are put to the test when she meets Lou (Hoskins) who runs the town shoe store and proceeds to charm the pants of the Flax women. The chemistry between Cher, Christina Ricci and, particularly, Winona Ryder, is excellent as she plays the conservative daughter rebelling against her free-spirited mother. The young Ricci is absolutely adorable as the energetic little sister Kate who is an avid swimmer.

Coming off the commercial flop that was Faithful (1996), Cher laid low for three years before bouncing back with Franco Zeffirelli’s semi-autobiographical film, Tea with Mussolini (1999), that saw her teamed up with an impressive group of veteran British actresses – Joan Plowright, Judi Dench and Maggie Smith. This film is a lavish period piece set before and during World War II and is a leisurely-paced character study set in Italy. Part of the joy in watching this film is seeing the cast breath life into these intriguing characters. The film focuses on three British women living abroad. Their daily routine changes when one of them (Plowright) takes a young boy in and raises him. Her two other friends (Dench and Smith) take turns babysitting the boy and imparting pearls of wisdom. This is something of an underrated film and it is rare that you get to see this many award-winning, critically-acclaimed actresses sharing the same space together.

Special Features:

Most of these films are accompanied by a trailer.

Born premature and blind, Wonder had an abusive father. After his mother fled with her children to Detroit, Wonder was signed to Motown records as a child by the legendary Berry Gordy. He had his first hit at age 13 and went on to have an incredible career, including five years during the early seventies – a creative period arguably only matched by The Beatles – which saw the albums Music of my Mind, Talking Book, Innervisions, Fulfillingness’ First Finale and Songs in the Key of Life. He’s been married twice, had a passel o’ kids and narrowly survived a serious car crash in 1973. Before you ask, he wasn’t driving.

Rich pickings for a biographical documentary, no? As it turns out, this effort by the History Channel is a bit of a missed opportunity. Clocking in at barely 45 minutes long, it’s obvious that the producers have not had much of a budget to work with. For a start, none of Wonder’s music features; in a game effort to avoid paying royalties, we get bland elevator bobbins that vaguely sounds like his music but at the same time is a million miles away. There’s only a handful of footage and still pictures used, and it’s not too long before you’re tired of seeing the same photograph over and over, no matter how many times they zoom into and pan across it in a vain effort to liven things up.

On the positive side, the talking heads wheeled in to regale us with anecdotes about Stevie’s life are engaging and well informed, and there’s the odd famous face including Smokey Robinson and Rev Al Sharpton.

All in all, you feel that an artist of Wonder’s calibre deserves something with better production values – even if he did throw his cred away with I Just Called To Say I Love You and Ebony and Ivory – but this scores a few extra points for making you want to find out some more about the guy and listen to his music.

Can’t Stop The Music is an ersatz autobiography of the band, charting their formation in New York’s Greenwich Village to a final, climactically fruity concert at San Francisco. A fresh faced, snake-hipped Steve Guttenberg plays Jack Morell (a thinly disguised Morali) who, after quitting his day job working in a record shop, decides to become a composer. A ten minute roller skating jaunt through New York set to a sickeningly optimistic disco tune later, he meets his landlady (Valerie Perrine) who happens to be an ex-supermodel with lots of contacts in the record business. After recruiting the Native American village person (Felipe Rose), the other members of the band join one by one and their place in disco folklore is assured.

Before we lose ourselves in its sanguine four-on-the-floor beats and relentless Eighties-ness, let’s get one thing straight: in a lot of respects, this movie stinks. The dialogue is terrible, the acting shonky and you could drive a bus through the holes in the plot.

However, I’m prepared to give this film a pass. If you can put your brain in neutral and disengage your critical faculties, it’s actually quite fun. There are a lot of memorable things that stick in the mind long after the film is finished. In every scene where Guttenberg is composing or arranging the band, he puts you in mind of Steve Martin in The Jerk, who has a crippling inability to clap in time to a beat. Leatherman (Glenn Hughes), with a ‘tache that would put Merv the Swerve to shame, gives a memorable rendition of ‘Danny Boy’ atop a grand piano, and there is a mindbending milk commercial that has to be seen to be believed. The music throughout the film is quite catchy, even though the lyrics were seemingly written by someone without English as a first language.

Special mention must be made of the rendition of the band’s biggest hit, YMCA. Filmed in an actual hostel, there’s stylised boxing, diving, gymnastics and cheeky male shower scenes galore, and more naked male flesh on display than is healthy for one person. It’s the gayest thing since Carry On Fisting (a film Sid James refused to talk about until his dying day), and it’s enough to turn Burt Reynolds ginger beer.

All in all, it’s a so-bad-it’s-watchable film. Not Star Wars Holiday Special bad, but Mystery Science Theatre 3000 bad, which makes it okay in my book.

Amazingly, Soderbergh raised the $58 million budget entirely outside of North America which allowed him much more creative freedom. The result was a four and half hour epic that refused to champion or demonize Che and instead opted to objectively depict his rise in Cuba and his fall in Bolivia. This approach ultimately doomed Che’s chances in North America where, despite breaking the film up into two more digestible parts, it received limited distribution. Predictably, it divided critics and was criminally ignored by all of the major award ceremonies – rather fitting for a film about someone who refused to rest on his laurels, always hungry to get back to the jungle and get back to work.

I think that the key to understanding Del Toro and Soderbergh’s take on Che comes from an interview with director where he said, “clearly this is a guy whose priority is going into the jungle and starting a revolution. That is the most important thing in his life … If you take away all the words and just look at what he did, the guy kept going back into the jungle.” Del Toro and Soderbergh were faced with the daunting task of making a film about an iconic historic figure, someone whose image has graced countless t-shirts and posters. Che is an extremely polarizing figure and so it makes sense that they would step back and take a more objective look at the man. Then, it would be up to the audience to decide how they felt about him.

Those looking for a crowd-pleasing underdog story a la Erin Brockovich (2000) will be disappointed by Che. The famous Argentinean is not as easy to like as the scrappy Brockovich. As depicted in Che, he’s a much more complex individual. He cares about the cause and those that fight with him but does not feel the need to show a lot of emotion. When he’s in the jungle it is all about the task at hand and living in the moment. Che never loses sight of what his objective is and his conviction never wavers, not even in the face of death. He’s like a Method actor that stays in character on and off-camera during a shoot.

Part One juxtaposes Che’s efforts to remove Batista from power in Cuba in 1958 with him addressing the United Nations in 1964 and in doing so we see Che in his element, putting into practice guerrilla warfare tactics, and we see Che the superstar espousing his beliefs to the media in New York City and the international community at large. At first, the Bolivia campaign as depicted in Part Two starts off well enough with Che sneaking into the country and meeting with his fellow revolutionaries. We see them get supplies and train in preparation for the task at hand. However, the country’s Communist party refuses to support an armed struggle, especially one led by a foreigner. The support of the peasants, so crucial in Cuba, is lacking in Bolivia, making food hard to come by. A feeling of dread creeps in as government troops gradually close in on Che, cutting off any avenue of escape.

Soderbergh maintains an objective stance by refusing to show any close-ups of Che. We always see him from a certain distance and often grouped with others. During the battle at El Uvero on May 28, 1957, Soderbergh conveys the noisy, chaotic nature of combat as men are seemingly wounded at random but there is never any confusion visually about what is going on. Twice during the battle, he takes us out of it by having a voiceover by Che where he espouses his philosophy of guerrilla warfare. With a widescreen aspect ratio, Soderbergh opens things up in Part One and this is particularly evident during the battle scenes. In Part Two, this all changes, as the smooth camerawork is replaced with hand-held cameras and a more standard aspect ratio which creates a claustrophobic feel and look. The long takes and deliberately slow pace may frustrate some expecting a more traditional biopic but I found it a welcome change from the cookie cutter mentality of most Hollywood depictions of history.

During the Cuban campaign it is evident that Che is very much a man of the people, whether it is making contact with and befriending peasants that he comes across in the jungle or treating a wounded comrade. However, Che eschews character development in favor of showing the nuts and bolts of a revolution. As Che says at one point, “A real revolutionary goes where he’s needed. It may not be directly in combat. Sometimes it’s about doing other tasks … finding food, dressing wounds, carrying comrades for miles … and then, taking care of them until they can take care of themselves.” The film takes this philosophy to heart by showing the day-to-day activities of Che and his fellow revolutionaries. We see him dressing wounds, the wounded being carried through the jungle and strategizing with his men and Fidel Castro (Bichir).

Benicio del Toro effortlessly becomes Che and tones down his tendency to sometimes resort to Brando-esque acting tics (see The Way of the Gun) and plays the iconic revolutionary as a man confident of his own convictions. He conveys Che’s sharp intellect with his eyes and also does an excellent job with the physical aspects like his recurring asthma that constantly plagued him. Del Toro provides us insight into the man’s character through attitude, behavior and the way he acts towards others.

Che is ultimately a study in contrasts. What worked in Cuba did not work in Bolivia. Soderbergh’s film illustrates the differences. In Cuba, the revolutionaries were able to get the trust and support of the peasants while in Bolivia they feared the rebels. It must also be said that Castro played a key role in the success of the Cuban revolution and his absence in Bolivia, the galvanizing effect he had, is sorely missed. With Che, Soderbergh has created an unusual biopic that does its best to not try and manipulate you into feeling one way or another about the revolutionary. Instead, it shows two very different examples of the man’s philosophies put into practice and how they played out – one a success and the other a failure. Che was a polarizing historical figure long before this film came along and will continue to be long afterwards.

Special Features:

The first disc includes an audio commentary for Part One by Jon Lee Anderson, chief consultant on Che and author of Che Guevara: A Revolutionary Life. He starts off by calling Che a “hippie rebel,” and a product of the 1960s. He talks about the corruption and decadence of Cuba under Batista and how this provoked men like Che and Fidel Castro to start a revolution. Anderson provides extensive historical background to what we are watching which fills in a lot of gaps and often explains what is being shown, putting it into context.

Also included is a theatrical trailer.

The second disc sees Anderson return for an audio commentary for Part Two. He explains Che’s fascination with Bolivia at an early age and why he chose that country to start a revolution. He talks about the political conditions in Bolivia that made it ripe for a revolution. Like he did with Part One, Anderson provides the backstory and elaborates in detail on what we are watching.

The third and final disc starts off with “Making Che,” a 50-minute documentary that takes a look at how the film came together. It started with producer Laura Bickford and her interested in Jon Lee Anderson’s book. She got Benicio del Toro involved and they spent years doing research and deciding what part of his life to depict. The film’s screenwriters talk about the challenge of condensing so many events into one film and so Soderbergh decided to split it up into two films. The director explains his depiction of Che, including the omission of the man’s more questionable actions, and his approach to the film. This is an excellent, in-depth look.

There are ten deleted scenes from Part One with optional commentary by Soderbergh. He puts this footage in context and explains why it was cut. These scenes provide some insight into Che and it’s nice to be able to see them.

Also included are four deleted scenes from Part Two with optional commentary by Soderbergh. Much of this footage illustrates Che’s philosophy of guerrilla warfare.

“End of a Revolution” is a 1968 documentary about the aftermath of Che’s failed revolution in Bolivia, the origins of it and a look at the forces that prevented it. The featurette begins with stills of Che’s dead body and a journalist describing the scene, his voice full of emotion. The doc does a nice job of profiling Bolivia and its people; for example, we see the brutal living and working conditions of the tin miners.

“Interviews from Cuba” features interviews with participants and historians of the Cuban Revolution conducted by producer Laura Bickford and actor Benicio del Toro. The participants talk about how they met Che and their impressions of him. They also discuss their views on the revolution. The historians talk about the key influences on the revolution and take us through significant moments of it.

Finally, there is “Che and the Digital Cinema Revolution!” Soderbergh’s film was the first feature to use the Red digital camera because of its quality and versatility in the terrain he would be shooting in. He did not have a lot of time to shoot Che and needed a camera that would allow him to shoot fast and not require a lot of artificial light. The cameras almost weren’t ready for the start of principal photography but Soderbergh stuck to his guns was able to get them just in time. This doc does a nice job taking a look at the challenges of using the Red camera and how it was the ideal technology for this particular film.

With his death came the inevitable increase in sales for his music and DVDs as he topped the download charts with Man in the Mirror and his music videos were bought en masse once again, as though it were the mid eighties. The mid eighties was Michael’s peak, when the Bad album spawned five US number ones and the movie Moonwalker was released.

Moonwalker was a Michael Jackson extravaganza. A movie that featured documentary clips of Michael and the Jackson Five, some of Michael’s music videos and a short story about Michael saving the world from drug obsessed crime baron Mr Big (played by Joe Pesci).

Moonwalker starts with a live performance of the download number one single Man in the Mirror before going into the documentary montage that takes you through the early days of Michael’s career, from his debut, through his Grammys and through the many highs that he enjoyed.

The movie also features the music video for the bonus track featured on the Bad album CD version, Leave Me Alone, which perfectly sums up Michael’s career and his relationship with the media.

The actual plot of Moonwalker finally kicks in as Michael stumbles onto the evil plans of Mr Big, causing him to be a marked man. Michael is chased by Big’s troopers, only to transform into a high performance car (way before Michael Bay got his hands on Transformers) and speed off towards the 1930’s Chicago club for the famous Smooth Criminal music video. This is perhaps Michael’s greatest video and without doubt the highlight of the movie, as Michael makes his way through the club to the tunes of Smooth Criminal, dispatching bad guys as he goes.

The finale of the film sees Michael take on the whole of Big’s army, before Transforming again into a giant robot, and then a spaceship.

This movie comes from the genius mind of Michael Jackson. It may not flow as a normal, narrative driven, movie would, but this doesn’t disguise the brilliance of Moonwalker. It’s escapist, it’s imaginative, it’s pure Michael Jackson.

The only downside to this DVD release is that it doesn’t feature any special features, but Michael Jackson’s numerous other DVDs more than make up for that.