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Yeah, they're even better with employee discount. I got Kagemusha on release day for $25.

PfR73 wrote:Yeah, they're even better with employee discount. I got Kagemusha on release day for $25.

Looks like I'm applying at Best Buy tomorrow.

lord_clyde wrote:

PfR73 wrote:We had several copies for sale today at the Best Buy I work at in Austin.

A little off topic I know, but I never realized how good the prices on Criterions were at Best Buy. I got Naked and Man who Fell to Earth this morning there and I was impressed.

For how much? BestBuy.com lists tham at 35 bucks. In the store it's sometimes different,

Naked, The Man Who Fell to Earth, and An Angel at my Table are $28.99 at my local Best Buy. Bad Timing is $21.99. They seem to carry most English-language Criterions and some of the samurai flicks.

The back of this package lists the year as 1989, but the Criterion site and imdb both list it as 1990. Does anyone know which year is accurate or why Criterion would put the wrong year on the package?

Anyone know if this disc is region free or region 1?

It's region 1.

I had picked this one up during that ridiculous Amazon sale a few years back and had been putting it off due to my distaste for Campion's Sweetie, but a bout of insomnia this morning prompted me to pop in the film-- mainly because it was the only non-Rohmer unwatched film from the 80s I had on hand and I've been neglecting my 80s project duties. Of course now I know the box's year was mislabeled, so so much for that.

However, I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed the film. Though I quite liked the picture on the whole, to my eyes the first segment was particularly interesting. Though this part of the trilogy contains the worst missteps in the gum chewing scene and the "fuck" scene, both incredibly trite and overly universal-- I haven't read the memoir but I can't help but think there were better events which could have been substituted-- it also contains the finest moments of nostalgic brilliance in the film. The scene with the sister coming back from the pool holding her dead sibling's shoes (the shoe motif in the film is brilliant), her hair still wet from swimming, is nothing short of a masterpiece in miniature, on par with the Carmen Miranda sing-along in Radio Days and the dress-up scene in Cria Cuervos-- all moments where the respective film moves beyond presenting someone else's childhood memories and creates a moment of clarity so striking that it gives the illusion of presenting the viewer's own memory.

This should look the same as the recent BD from Australia (or was it Germany?) that Tooze reviewed. Happy that Criterion decided to upgrade.