My Favorite Blu Ray/4K UHD Blu Rays of 2025

As I have predicted in last year’s preamble to this annual list, 2025 was a pretty darn horrible year, not personally for me, but for the world.  Again, I do not believe 2026 will be measurably better.  We are all bracing ourselves for a horrific catastrophe or a series of unmistakable signs that the things we have held dear regarding democracy, education, just plain human decency and others will be seriously (but hopefully not irrevocably) damaged.  In the last year, I noted with some surprise that the number of my purchased Blu Rays and 4K UHD discs had expanded greatly in number.  But in retrospect, this was not really surprising.  I believe in the power of motion pictures and other popular artforms. They are not merely reflections of our Zeitgeist.  We not only take solace but also learn lessons from them.   We always have access to those artists who, while exploring the depths of ignorance and depravity of the “God-fearing normal people” around them, refuse to embrace shallow nihilism or despair.  Some titles, if not all, in the list below testify to this observation, whether I have successfully conveyed this understanding or not.

The total amount of Blu Rays and 4K UHD discs purchased in 2025 increased by close to 30 percent from 2024, which puts the number of procured titles at nearly double that of 2023.  This answers the question I posed last year: the massive increase in the titles I had purchased was not a happenstance.  To be clear, this was not an outcome of my conscious effort to cut down on streaming subscriptions and turn toward physical media.  Even though there are too many streaming channels and their “mainstream” titles are becoming less and less interesting (especially their longform serialized content— the “TV series” materials), I actually downloaded (rented and purchased) a sizable number of movies from online platforms.  The numbers of movies I have in possession as downloaded files are not exactly declining.  My subscription to Arrow Video, for instance, did not make much dent at all in the number of Blu Rays issued by the label that I have purchased (or received as a payment for my contribution).  I do not know about you, but, for me, streaming services have not replaced physical media and are unlikely to do that ever, not just in the short term.    

Again, the usual disclaimers: For those who stumble onto my blog for the first time, this list is exactly what it says it is, My Favorite Blu Rays and 4K UHD Blu Rays of 2025.  It is not beholden to any “objective” assessment of the archival values of the items discussed herein, although the latter are certainly factors for consideration.  Nor is it beholden to the critical consensus for “greatness” or “excellence” of the films found in these discs.  This list is as far removed from the “The 100 Movies You Should See Before You Die” sort, which I actively detest.   

As Djuna put it memorably and succinctly, all movies are old movies.  The moment you have watched a pristine 2026 film it has become an “old” movie for you.  So, there is no strict rule for including “newer” titles.  The rule of thumb for me that has remained constant for more than a decade and a half, is the sense of (re)discovery, surprise or confirmation (of what I had suspected or anticipated) that a title gives me.  Every year, I “cheat” a bit and include one or two titles that I got my hands on too late to be included in the previous year’s list— in this year there is one title (Felidae) actually released in 2024, but for the rest, I have confined myself to the titles copyrighted to 2025. 

Finally, to those of you who might be reading or at least aware of the Korean-language version of this list: I have waded into such a surrealistically deep pool of deserving titles in 2025 that, for the first time since I have begun to compile these lists many years ago, I am finally close to having an entirely distinctive list of titles for Korean and English-language lists, meaning no overlap between the two lists.  When I actually took stock of the titles, the lists stopped just short of becoming entirely independent of one another, but this remains a distinct possibility in 2027 and subsequent years.  Who knows: Netflix purchasing Warner Brothers and other industry bullcrap might make it exponentially difficult in the near future, but in any case, I will let the releases dictate the result.    

20. The Hellbenders (1967, StudioCanal Cult Classics, Region B)

A title familiar from my black & white AFKN (American Forces Korean Network) channel-surfing days, its nail-biting and deliberately suspenseful sequence, in which the female protagonist impersonating a widow of a fallen Confederate soldier attempts to dissuade a Union cavalry from inspecting a coffin loaded with the robbed bank notes, has left a lasting impression on me, along with its requisite nastiness befitting a Sergio Corbucci spaghetti Western.  Yet I found the film, remastered by StudioCanal into a pristine special edition, deviating from my memory of it in some surprising ways.  In this edition, The Hellbenders no longer comes off like a typical Italo Western and, perhaps like Corbucci’s Django and Sergio Leone’s The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, its darkly pessimistic, not to say nihilistic, tone carries a rather authentic thematic weight, commenting on the self-perpetuation of warlike mentality and material greed rationalized by ideological conviction (i.e. the belief in “the cause”).

StudioCanal’s presentation through their Cult Classics line comes with an enthusiastic participation from the cult director Alex Cox, who contributes a commentary, as well as Ruggero Deodato, then-assistant director to Corbucci.

19. Maybe It’s Love (1984, Kani Releasing, Region A)

 

This title had been unknown to me and appeared less than inviting at first glance. Even Kani’s packaging suggested that the title was a Tupperware erotic thriller in the ‘80s mold, with powdery visuals and gratuitous nudities galore.  I only purchased it upon finding out that it was directed by a female director not well known to me, Angie Chen.   To my pleasant surprise, the film turned out to be an eccentric concoction-- something like a Nancy Drew mystery cum a Francois Truffaut-style coming-of-age story set in rustic, undeveloped areas of Hong Kong, infused with elements of adult film noir (The Postman Always Rings Twice, anyone?), a cute pre-adolescent adventure (The Goonies) and, yes, very plastic ‘80s erotic thriller, complete with reams of the footage showing spandex-clad, headband-wearing young vixen sweating and gyrating to disco rhythms (The sex does not, despite the cover art and posters, quite spill into the salacious territory). The sheer incongruity of all these elements should centrifugally spin the film into incomprehensible fragments.  Instead, it delivers uncommonly naturalistic acting from the leads as well as child actors and a sense of wistful nostalgia that feels authentically autobiographical.

Kani Releasing’s packaging includes a highly entertaining and informative interview with Director Angie Chen, speaking in English, and Katherine Connell’s spirited defense of the film’s historical values and aesthetic achievements.  I do not know if this is due to KR’s judgement or not, but the title, unlike many Hong Kong titles pouring out of the US labels, comes with simplified and traditional Chinese language subtitles, immensely helpful in enhancing appreciation of the film’s dialogue and performances.  This is one title in this list that proves the adage, “do not judge a book by its cover.” 

18. Last Known Address (1970, Kino Lorber/StudioCanal, Region A)

 

One stream of Blu Ray releases that has become a reliable source of classic titles for the candidates in my year-end list is StudioCanal-controlled European, mostly French, cinema from ‘60s to ‘80s released through Kino Lorber.  Many of these are star vehicles for Alain Delon and Jean-Paul Belmondo.  This particular title, however, stars Lino Ventura and the wonderful Marlene Jobert (Eva Green’s mother), a laid-back roman policier in the mold of an Inspector Maigret opus.  Ventura and Jobert are cop partners trying to locate a witness crucial for indictment of a gangster, their only clue the “last known address” of the said witness.  This is not an action thriller or even a conventional mystery, but ultimately an affecting character study: the core of the film is the relationship between Ventura and Jobert, anchoring the ties that they develop with colorful persons of interest they interrogate and attempt to help, including the witness-in-question’s young daughter suffering from a serious, possibly incurable, illness.  For a Jose Giovanni film, it is less angry and more melancholy, but no less compelling for that reason.   

17. Antiviral (2012, Severin Films, 4K UHD Blu Ray/ Blu Ray- Region Free).

 

Brandon Cronenberg’s disturbing yet memorable debut feature, an extreme, nauseatingly clinical body horror that is simultaneously a radical critique of the celebrity worship culture and commodification of desire, both reminiscent of and utterly distinct from his famous father’s opuses, receives a deluxe special edition treatment from Severin Films.  The 4K UHD remaster from the 35mm internegative bestows Karim Hussain’s blindingly white-washed, stains-in-the-plaster-wall cinematography with the best presentation possible, giving a chance for home video viewers to appreciate this challenging film in a setting that approximates a first-time theatrical viewing experience.  Severin really pulls out all stops for this title, including the 113-minute “Cannes Film Festival” version (the UHD disc is for the 108-minute Theatrical Cut) on a separate Blu Ray. 

Beginning with an audio commentary with Cronenberg and Hussain, the extensive supplements include a quirky but informative making-of doc, conversations with the director-cinematographer pair that goes into the unexpectedly prescient ways in which Antiviral anticipated some of the more unnerving features of COVID pandemic (including the practice of nose swipe for viral infection) as well as the 35mm analogue versus digital presentations of the film, among other fascinating topics, an archival view of the Sara Gadon-Caleb Landry Jones acting together (they purposefully avoided learning about one another), deleted scenes, among others. A consummately judicious archival release from Severin that truly does justice to the virulently strange vision of a contemporary original filmmaker.    

16. Unknown World (1951, Severin Films, Blu Ray- Region Free).

A highly idiosyncratic early ‘50s SF that at first glance seems to be a cheap knockoff of Journey to the Center of the Earth turns out to be anything but.  With the screenplay attributed to Milard Kaufman (Bad Day at Black Rock) but possibly also written by then-blacklisted Dalton Trumbo, Unknown World starts out like a micro-budget programmer about an underground exploration by a typical team of scientists and engineers, but gradually transforms into a metaphorically charged, apocalyptic ruminations about the hypocrisies of American military-industrial complex.  The special effects are standard toy-like model works but serve the purpose.  The characterizations are interesting and unusual, including Marilyn Nash’s female scientist, an unapologetic feminist.  The real dangers to the mission rise out of not only conflicts among characters but also their philosophical differences about the position of humanity in the cosmos, but there is no theological moralizing in the dialogue. For that matter, neither “lizardosaurus” creature nor a gigantic spider is around.

Severin’s presentation, although its touted 4K remastering of the preserved internegative is not quite pristine due to the limitations of the source materials, is highly respectful and informative, beginning with an enthusiastic audio commentary from Stephen Bissette, along with his video essay on the special effects techniques of 1950s SF, and the interview pieces focused on the scripter Victor Kilian and director Terrell O. Morse.

15. Felidae (1994, Deaf Crocodile, Blu Ray- Region A).

 

I was very moved by Flow and almost contemplated purchasing the 4K Criterion disc and adding it to the list, but instead another animation film about cats has unexpectedly made into it.  This is the “cheat” title, by the way, as it was technically out in 2024, but no matter. And wouldn’t you know it, Felidae turns out to be like a savvily and wittily updated krimi thriller.  It has a Eugenics-infused quasi-Mad Scientist SF plot, a crime-solving tomcat, a master criminal and a Gothic femme fatale all going about their cat-business (including a fairly graphic depiction of a neck-biting sex, ur, mating between the protagonist and a slinky lady cat) with gusto.  The German-language voice talents involved are pretty amazing, including Mario Adorf (!) and Klaus Maria Brandauer (!!).  You almost expect Klaus Kinski to appear voicing a hissy demon cat. 

Deaf Crocodile, a go-to label for the more exotic and lesser-known literary fantasy-animation titles from Europe, provides a full stack of supplementary materials, including a video interview with the director Micheal Schaack as well as animators and designers and a commentary by Ryan Verrill (journalist) and Will Dodgson (academic).

14. Winchester ’73 (1950, Criterion Collection, 4K UHD Blu Ray)

The Anthony Mann-James Stewart Westerns have received their dues in the physical media format from the earliest days: Man from the Laramie and The Naked Spur, to name the two most frequently cited titles, have received multiple DVD and Blu Ray releases over the years.  The reason Winchester ‘73 got into the 2026 list is, in a way, circumstantial: I have not really watched it in any of these formats, except as a part of an AFKN or ‘70s Korean TV (Not sure which one) program many decades ago.  The Universal Pictures-Film Foundation remastered 4K version out from Criterion is splendid, again allowing a viewer to notice small details such as the ways in which puffs of smoke from guns and rifles drift, and how lanky and awkward Stewart looks in some scenes.  Among the characters, Dan Duryea’s slimy villain takes the cake for leaving an indelible impression.

Criterion’s presentation collects various supplementary materials from preceding decades, including an archival commentary with Stewart moderated by film historian Paul Lindenschmidt.

13. V Cinema Essentials: Bullets & Betrayal (1989-1994, Arrow Video, Blu Ray- Region A).

Following in the footsteps of their J-Horror super-collection, Arrow Video curates nine examples of “V-Cinema,” Toei Pictures’ effort to cash in on the then-burgeoning VHS market by churning out extremely low-budget, “direct-to-video” exploitation films.  Surprisingly, there are less here that indicate their origins than meets the eye, aside from the inevitable 1.33 to 1 aspect ratio.  They may not be your ideas of “good movies”—as some commentators and interviewees cheerfully acknowledge, some of the performances range from wooden to hilariously terrible— but, in a fashion analogous to the Nikkatsu Roman Porno genre, many of these unmistakably sleazoid features do contain quite a chunk of sincere hokum, madcap exploitation energy (flashing middle fingers to “good taste”) as well as genuinely creative touches.  The helmers include such past and future notables as Sai Yoichi (The Burning Dog), Hasebe Yoshiharu (Danger Point: The Road to Hell) and Ishii Teruo (The Hitman: Blood Smells Like Roses). 

The box set is adorned with gorgeous illustrations by Chris Malbon that improve on the dully barebones original poster photos, and as usual come with a barrage of excellent supplements, spearheaded by historical contextualization by Earl Jackson, an essay on the Female Prisoner Scorpion character by Hayley Scanlon, and Daiske Miyao on the speed of Toei V-Cinema.  

12. Yojimbo/Sanjuro (1961-62, The British Film Institute, 4K UHD Blu Ray)

 

I could not avoid including a classic Kurosawa title in this list, as you probably could have guessed.  I have procured more than one 4K UHD remastered versions of Akira Kurosawa classics in 2025, including The Hidden Fortress, The Throne of Blood and High and Low, and any one of them could have made into the current list (One or more of them might still make it into the Korean-language list), but I have chosen the eternally enjoyable Mifune Toshiro vehicles, Yojimbo and Sanjuro.  Yojimbo, in particular, displays a tremendous improvement in visual quality over the Criterion Blu Ray, held up upon their release as a model showcase for Blu Rays.  Watching this 4K iteration on a 70-inch-something screen HD TV proved to be a revelation: I could literally count the hairs—white ones too— right below Sanjuro’s top-knot in the close-ups. 

BFI’s supplements are just as impeccable and thorough as those of Criterion’s nearly concurrent 4K release, major differences being commentaries.  Again, Alex Cox is present, jumping up and down with enthusiasm for Sanjuro.  I also enjoyed the video essay on “natural backgrounds” in these two films by Nic Wassell.  I am curious as to see if Kagemusha’s inevitable 4K remaster would show a noticeably different color scheme from DVDs and Blu Rays.  I am considerably less happy with the 4K treatment of Kurosawa’s the other color epic, Ran, but that is a story for another day.

11. Mabuse Lives! Dr. Mabuse at CCC: 1960-1964 (1960-64, Eureka! Masters of Cinema, Blu Ray- Region Free).

 

It was at the starting point of the DVD revolution, the year 2000 to be exact, that we were made privy to a gloriously remastered edition of Fritz Lang’s last film, The One Thousand Eyes of Dr. Mabuse, published from David Kalat’s Allday label. 25 years later, we have that film and its five German-language sequels collected into one boxset.  Eureka! released several stunning boxset editions in this year, all competing for a high or top slot in this list, but ultimately two of them climbed up the ladder. Made into the present slot is this collection of the postwar Mabuse series, produced through the Central Cinema Company led by the returnee Jewish entrepreneur and filmmaker Artur Brauner, who combined a documentarian’s persistence and a commercial instinct.  The films, vaulted in excellent conditions at the CCC, are fascinating criminal-espionage thrillers with inflections of science fiction and Gothic horror, many of them starring lovably irascible Gert Frobe (Goldfinger himself), Peter van Eyck in a series of interchangeable (sometimes American) hero roles and Wolfgang Preiss. 

David Kalat returns again as the Mabuse expert, providing audio commentaries to all series titles, but other supplementary materials are quite excellent and historically informative, including introductions by Tim Lucas, an interview with the CCC managing director Alice Brauner and a video essay on krimi films by David Cairns and Fiona Watson, among others.  Oh yes, we shan’t forget the lavishly illustrated insert booklet (57 pages) chock full of archival interviews (including one with Lang) and academic essays.   

10. The Pied Piper & Jiri Barta Shorts (1978-89, Deaf Crocodile, Region A).

 

The mordantly witty The Pied Piper, an animated feature running just short of one hour, done in the style of medieval wood reliefs brought to life, along with photographic insertions of real rats that most certainly would freak out some viewers, is joined by a series of sui generis animated shorts, from The Vanished World of Gloves to The Club of the Laid Off, in a two-disc special edition beautifully curated by Deaf Crocodile.  Even though these features are not exactly obscure, especially for the connoisseurs of Eastern European cinematic arts, it is still incredible to have them collected into a single release.

The creator Jirĭ Barta enthusiastically participate in the supplements (through an interpreter in an interview, making it go on a bit longer than usual), and is a most welcome presence. 

9. Night of the Juggler (1980, Kino Lorber, 4K UHD Blu Ray).

 

Scanned and remastered in 4K from the 35mm negative, this cult thriller starring James Brolin in his most volcanic state, taking place for the real-time roughly 24 hours in the late ‘70s New York City and another take on the Ed McBain “they kidnapped the wrong kid” premise most memorably adapted into Kurosawa’s High and Low, is a surprisingly nostalgic title for me.  I watched it in a South Korean theater with the viewers palpably excited by the raw emotions and gritty action sequences— greatly boosted by performances of the likes of Brolin, Julie Carmen, Dan Hedaya, Cliff Gorman and Mandy Patinkin— but the Korean release print was subtly censored: it is fascinating to see the Brolin-Hedaya confrontation in the police interrogation room played out in full length, for instance. 

Kino Lorber’s 4K UHD edition comes with a great commentary by Steve Mitchell and Nathaniel Thompson, and most surprisingly for me, a brand-new interview with James Brolin (who at 85 looks simply great!) and Julie Carmen as well as an autopsy of the Sidney J. Furie’s take on the film and how much it survived into the final Robert Butler-credited version. 

8. Splendid Outing (1978, Radiance Films, Blu Ray- Region Free)

 

Another big surprise: I did not expect Radiance Films to branch off into classic Korean cinema, but they did, and their inaugural title is none other than Kim Soo-yong’s Splendid Outing, a resolutely artistic psychological thriller with a vague suggestion of parallel life.  The ‘70s superstar Jeong Yoon-hee stars as a female head of a corporation whose aimless wandering into a port town results in her being abducted by a fisherman who claims that she is his long-lost wife.  Scanned in 4K by the Korean Film Archive from a rare 35mm negative (and further digitally restored by Heavenly Movie), Radiance’s presentation meticulously recreates the master cinematographer Jung Il-sung’s magnificent visual renditions of the protagonist’s mental landscape, including such disturbingly surrealistic vistas as scarlet-red fishnets that ensnare Jeong's businesswoman into captivity. 

The excellent supplements include Pierce Conran’s video essay on the “island women,” a fascinating trope in South Korean cinema, a commentary by Ariel Schudson, as well as insightful and highly informative interviews with directors Lee Chang-dong (Secret Sunshine, Burning) and Chung Ji-young (The White Badge, National Security, The Boys) who had served as an assistant director for this film. 

7. Shawscope Volume 4 (1975-85, Arrow Video, Blu Ray- Region A/Free)

 

Arrow Video’s amazing collections of Shaw Brothers films, models to emulate for curation of classic genre films, massively colorful and hitting dopamine centers of all genre film collectors, and not just Hong Kong wu xia pian or “kung fu” film fans, have now come up with its fourth volume.  In 2025 Arrow had already released Volume 3, spearheaded by Jimmy Wang Yu’s One-Armed Swordsman and other period-piece action films from ‘70s and early ‘80s (the majority directed by Chor Yuen).  That boxset could have easily made it into the list as well, but Volume 4, which controversially deviates from the series’ previous focus on wu xia pian/kung fu cinema and collects the horror and dark fantasy titles from the same period, was in the end the one that made the cut. Many of them feature dodgy if charming special effects and abjectly nonsensical premises or plot developments.

The flagship title is Super Inframan (1975), a crazy Shaw Brothers riff on the Japanese Ultraman/Kamen Rider, but the collection also includes the utterly bizarre Oily Maniac ( 1976), ludicrously sleazy Black Magic (1975) and its sequel (1976), a completely bonkers Hex (1980) and its myriad sequels and knock-offs, and the sui generis weirdness galore such as Demon of the Lute (1983).

The quality of presentation is, as befits Arrow Video, superb: to cite one example, the Arrow and L’Immagine Ritrovata’s Super Inframan remaster from 35mm original negative is literally eye-popping. When I had acquired the 88 Films Blu Ray about a decade ago, I assumed that this version was for sure the best this tokusatsu extravaganza would ever look.  I was wrong.  Inframan’s armors in this Arrow remastered version sports a sumptuous scarlet hue, compared to which the 88 Films version’s armors look just… red.   The only drawback to owning this title I could think of is, perhaps, that a few movies included are frankly real clunkers.  But with sixteen titles with each one getting its own designated disc, not all of them could have been insanely entertaining like Super Inframan.  In any case, there is nothing to disprove the proposition that every volume in the Arrow Shawscope collection series is simply a must-buy, even for those who are not committed fans of Hong Kong genre cinema.

6. World Noir No. 3 (1947-51, Radiance Films, Region Free).

 

Radiance Films is fast becoming a label to watch out for, overtaking Criterion, Arrow and Eureka! in their fastidious yet innovative presentations of sometimes obscure, other times unjustly forgotten European and Japanese cinema.  Their World Noir series managed to dig up many fascinating works of film noir from Japan, Italy, France and other nations, but I personally think they really hit the jackpot with this third volume.  It contains Henri Decoin’s Not Guilty (1947), a riveting acting showcase for Michel Simon (equally amazing in Julien Duvivier’s Panique [1946], remade by Patrice Laconte into Monseiur Hire), The Lost One (1951), a sole film directed by Peter Lorre, a deeply morose affair drenched in miasma of cigarette smoke, and The Girl with Hyacinths (1950), a Swedish tragic romance/psychological mystery, the best film in the collection. 

 

Radiance pulls out all stops for the supplements, with commentaries, video essays and archival footage (including alternative endings), and a 77-page booklet (yeah right, a book-LET) with six academic essays (two per one film) specifically on the titles. 

5. Daiei Gothic: Three Japanese Ghost Stories (1960-70, Radiance Films, Blu Ray- Region Free).

The first volume of this completely surprising (and surprisingly welcome) series from Radiance not surprisingly snared the top position in the 2024 list.  The second volume is situated at no. 5, mostly because the films themselves are not as magically enticing as those in the first volume.  This fact diminishes neither the archival significance nor sheer entertainment value of the three red-blood supernatural thrillers found herein.  Demon of Mount Oe, the oldest entry made in 1960, is a formalistic, dark fairy tale that refashions the myth of the demon Shuten Doji subdued by the warrior Minamoto no Yorimitsu (948-1021) as a special effects-laden, quasi-musical heroic fantasy.  The amazing cast includes Ichikawa Raizo as Yorimitsu, Hasegawa Kazuo as Shuten Doji, Katsu Shintaro (Zatoichi himself) as the fierce compatriot of Yorimitsu, Watanabe no Tsuna.  The Haunted Castle (1969) proves to be an aggressively Expressionist Gothic horror partaking of the vengeful demon cat trope.  Ghost of Kabane Swamp (1970), finally, is an unabashedly nihilistic film noir disguised as a supernatural horror, with Yasuda Kimiyoshi’s dynamic direction foregrounding desperation and inner turmoil of the characters.

 

As is the case with the first Daiei Gothic collection, this boxset is stacked to the gills with supplements, all highly informative and insightful, highlighted by English translations of source materials for Demon and Castle by F. Hadland Davis and an analysis of Encho Sanyutei’s kodan (recitation performance) version of the Kasane Swamp tale by Daniel O’Neill.

4. Wrack and Ruin: The Rubble Films of DEFA (1945-48, Eureka! Masters of Cinema, Blu Ray-Region B).

This year’s academically most interesting boxset/title.  Even though it is headlined by The Murderers Are Among Us (1946), a title fairly well represented in the DVD pool of desirable postwar German films— with its often-quoted imagery of two lovers taking a walk backed by a vast ruin of bombed buildings— the collection also curates four other much lesser known films that range from a docudrama about the flourishing black market (Police Raid), a look back in 1930s legal corruption case aimed at framing a Jewish entrepreneur as a conspirator for murder (The Blum Affair), a gritty survivor’s tale of war orphans coping with the everyday life among the rubbles of Berlin (Somewhere in Berlin) and a dramatization of the persecution of the theater actor Joachim Gottschalk and his Jewish wife Meta Wolff (Marriage in the Shadows).  These films collectively present us with a devastatingly authentic slice of cultural archeology, showing us the postwar German society attempting to reckon with its pitch-dark immediate past and groping for a purchase on the ever-thinning thread of humanity and decency. 

 

The Eureka! Masters of Cinema presentation is obviously working with limitations of the surviving elements, but its attempt to recover this critical moment of cultural history, when motion pictures were being made and consumed with the kind of renewed urgency that could only come after a world-shattering devastation, is extremely laudable.  The films themselves, even with their occasionally staid performances and limited production resources, are endlessly fascinating and educational in the best sense of the word.

3. The Outlaw Josey Wales (1976, Warner Brothers- Studio Distribution Networks, 4K UHD Blu Ray).

 

This early directorial effort by Clint Eastwood was plagued by production troubles (the screenwriter Philip Kaufman was originally set to direct, but was fired by Eastwood) and its reputation was perhaps a bit tainted by subsequent revelations about the source novel (Gone to Texas, the author of which, Asa Earl Carter, turned out to be a Ku Klax Klan member and a segregationist speechwriter for George Wallace) as well as the Eastwood-Locke romance.  Nonetheless, I could not ignore this title for 2025.  I am in the process of reacquainting myself with Eastwood’s early directorial efforts— Breezy, Play Misty for Me, The Eiger Sanction— and among them Wales remains the most fascinating and illuminating, despite the shadows cast by the negative aspects mentioned above. Even though it is economically and succinctly put together, Wales is an epic Western, giving classic Western themes—a lethal lone gunman with a traumatic past learning to care for other human beings and becoming a part of a makeshift community— a hard spin and touching upon many motifs that Eastwood would revisit in his later works, most importantly The Unforgiven. 

The 4K UHD prepared by Warner Brothers is simply magnificent, with Bruce Surtees’ cinematography shown in the best form.  The studio does not stint on supplements either, with six documentary features including a Western-focused chapter from Clint Eastwood: A Cinematic Legacy.  

2. The Betrayal (1966, Radiance Films, Blu Ray- Region Free).

 

Another triumph for Radiance, The Betrayal is the top-tier Daiei journeyman Tanaka Tokuzo’s remake of Futagawa Buntaro’s classic silent film Orochi (1925), of which only one third or so of reels remain intact today.  Fortunately, the surviving film stock includes one of the most jaw-droppingly grandiose action sequences ever committed to film in Japanese cinematic history, in which the hero Hirazaburo confronts a human tide of feudal police forces.  Tanaka and his star collaborator Ichikawa Raizo updates this sequence in an amazing series of sequences that build up spectacularly to a climax, as Ichikawa’s hero, relying on a single drawn sword, faces dozens of warriors, wooden carts and commoner policemen carrying ropes, jitte and sasumata.  Like Kudo Eiichi (13 Assassins)’s raging period pieces, Tanaka’s film bottles up the fury of the misunderstood and mistreated protagonist, maintains the tension taught as a drawn bowstring, and unleashes it in the explosive climax.  This is the major rediscovery of 2025 as far as I am concerned, and a must-have title for any discerning connoisseur of the Japanese chanbara. 

As usual, Radiance’s supplements are precise and informative, with Tom Mes’s video essay on the director Tanaka and Philip Kemp’s comparison of the 1925 original and the 1966 remake.   

 

1. The Black Tulip (1964, TFI/Kino Lorber, Blu Ray- Region A).

 

So finally herewith is my favorite disc of 2025, another Alain Delon star vehicle, a thoroughly delightful (and delightfully Gallic) swashbuckler based on an Alexandre Dumas character in which Delon plays a dual role, a cynical aristocrat who moonlights as a highwayman known as Black Tulip, and his milquetoast twin brother.  The latter, while impersonating this brother, decides to join the Revolutionary cause, smitten by an action heroine Caro (the beautiful Virna Lisi), who is capable of fencing, scuffling and kicking her way out of any dire situation.  It is a joy from start to finish, a breeze of fresh air from another time.

The Kino Lorber presentation is bare-bones except for a feature-length commentary by Simon Abrams, but its TFI-sponsored 4K restoration showcases Henri Decae’s cinematography in its pictorial resplendence, including unbelievably persuasive split-screen presentations of two Delons acting together.

It is almost March, but the list is done.  As I have said for the umpteenth time, better late than never.  There still are a slew of titles that for various reasons that did not make it into the list (some of which will no doubt show up in the Korean-language one): Finis Terrae (Eureka! Masters of Cinema), The House with Laughing Windows and Play It Cool (both Arrow Video), Sirius and Arlaune/The Student of Prague (both Deaf Crocodile), The Throne of Blood 4K UHD (BFI), Let’s Scare Jessica to Death 4K UHD, The Terrornauts, Interrogation and The Belly of an Architect (all Vinegar Syndrome), A Woman of Paris (Criterion Collection), among many, many other items. 

I face the prospect of a new year with some dread, but one thing is certain: I will still procure a goodly number of Blu Rays and 4K UHD Blu Rays in 2026.  This practice has remained a constant in my life for more than a decade now and for the likely future to come.  Classic cinema is forever, and my loyalty is to them, and their admirers, curators, preservers and fans.