If ever there was a film defined, not by its memorable twist ending, but by the journey it portrays in getting there, it's Jacob's Ladder.
Some may disagree, as it's the ending that seems to get the most press, but a simple rewatch confirms that it's everything that Jacob experiences leading up to the ending that really and truly sticks with you.
It's the early 1970s, and Jacob Singer (Tim Robbins) is serving time, and serving his country, in the Vietnam conflict. His unit is ambushed, Jacob is severely wounded, and we return to him later in the decade in New York City. He delivers mail and lives a simple life with his girlfriend, Jezebel (Elizabeth Pena), but something is... off. He's having hallucinations of people from his past, creatures that can't exist, and of something frightening in the shadows. Is he the victim of government testing? Is he caught up in something supernatural? Will he still deliver the mail on time?
Director Adrian Lyne (Deep Water) and writer Bruce Joel Rubin (Deadly Friend) craft a beautiful nightmare with Jacob's Ladder. The film plays with your imagination while exhibiting a genuine concern for Jacob's situation. Viewers can't help but feel sympathetic and affected by Jacob's journey, and Robbins' performance seals the deal. He's suffering, and we want that to end -- one way or another.
Pena is equally terrific here as the loving girlfriend who might know something more, and she's joined by a strong supporting cast, including Danny Aiello, Pruitt Taylor Vince, Ving Rhames, and more. Lyne keep viewers off kilter with a blend of direction, editing, and unnatural images glimpsed from the corners of the eye.
The most-discussed aspect of the film is its ending. No spoilers here, although the odds are good that you already know it, and there's power to it even on rewatch (or if you predict it on your first viewing). Its inspiration comes from a late 19th century story, that like the film, is effective and affecting even on repeat exposure. It's a journey of reflection through a disjointed lens, and it remains powerful.
Lionsgate's new 4K UHD release features a new restoration from Studio Canal, and it looks fantastic. Retained grain is plentiful even as the film's frequent darkness envelopes the screen with depth and danger. It's not a bright, colorful film, but details still find sharpness. The release includes archival extras and one new supplement.
The new extra is "On the Rungs of Jacob's Ladder," a featurette featuring interviews with director Adrian Lyne, writer Bruce Joel Rubin, and star Tim Robbins recalling the journey from the script to the screen. Also included are two commentaries, one with director Adrian Lyne and one with film historian Mike White, additional featurettes on the film's production, and deleted scenes.
The flipside of all that emotion and artistry is, arguably, Rob Zombie's The Devil's Rejects. The film and the filmmaker have their fans, but I'm not among them. To be sure, I put Zombie in the same camp as Kevin Smith, in that their films aren't generally for me, but both directors are fun and fascinating speakers. But The Devil's Rejects? Nah.
It's been six months since the events of House of 1,000 Corpses, and the wackadoo family of obnoxious sadists have finally been tracked down by the police. Cops assault their farmhouse, and casualties erupt on both sides, but both Otis (Bill Moseley) and Baby (Sheri Moon Zombie) escape. They're joined by Spaulding (Sid Haig), and soon the trio is back to their old tricks torturing and killing strangers even as the law, led by a very determined and equally violent Sheriff Wydell (William Forsythe), gets closer and closer.
Like I said, the film has its fans, but Zombie's aesthetic and interests just don't land with me. Zombie's killer trio are his antiheroes, even as they exhibit none of the genuine traits associated with the character type. The film revels in their carnage, finds their cruelty entertaining, and gives the victims zero value, aside from the short-lived joy of seeing great character actors on the screen again.
Seriously, for all his faults as a filmmaker, Zombie deserves praise for his supporting player casting of genre favorites. Ken Foree, Geoffrey Lewis, Priscilla Barnes, Danny Trejo, Tom Towles, P.J. Soles, Steve Railsback, Mary Woronov, Michael Berryman, and more all bring smiles, even as you wish it was under better circumstances.
Others see more here than I do, from the film's themes of moral degradation and shifting dynamics to the supposed horror of it all. To that latter point, nothing here is scary or unsettling. Our villains' performances are so over the top that their acts of cruelty are more silly than creepy. Victims let themselves be victims, giving us no one to root for, care about, or be engaged by. We get it, Zombie, you like Tobe Hooper and Quentin Tarantino.
Lionsgate's new 4K release isn't technically part of their Limited line, but it delivers the same quality physical presentation that fans have quickly become accustomed to. The picture looks quite good -- an accomplishment given Zombie's no-frills, lackluster visuals -- and captures all the sunlit violence, sassy smirking, and cg blood with an improvement over the previous Blu-ray.
This release only includes the theatrical cut, though, but at least the steel book art is fantastic. There are no new extras included, but we do get several archival supplements including two commentary tracks, one with Zombie and one with his main cast, deleted scenes, faux commercials, a making-of featurette, a blooper reel, and more.