Category Archives: Writers

Tribeca 2025: Gonzo Girl (***)

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 7, 2025)

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Mother of God, man…another film about Hunter S. Thompson?! Well yes…and no. Because you see, the adrenochrome-addled gonzo journalist pecking away at a bullet-riddled typewriter in Patricia Arquette’s dramedy is named “Walker Reade” (Willem Dafoe). A starry-eyed super-fan and aspiring writer named Alley (Camila Morrone) lucks into a gig as Reade’s writing assistant.

Reade’s muse has gone fallow; he has writer’s block and is under deadline pressure from his publisher to deliver a new book. While she takes initial warnings from his long-time, world-weary live-in assistant (played by Arquette) with a grain of salt, Alley soon learns that “writing assistant”  could mean anything from “babysitter” to “caregiver”.

As one might expect, there are echoes here of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Where the Buffalo Roam (and yes, there is a requisite “first acid trip” escapade). That said, the film vibes more like a hybrid of All About Eve and Get Him to the Greek. Jessica Caldwell and Rebecca Thomas adapted the screenplay from Cheryl Della Pietra’s eponymous novel (which the author based on her real-life stint as Hunter S. Thompson’s assistant).

While at times a bit uneven in tone,  Arquette’s directorial debut is,for the most part, an enjoyable romp for Hunter S. Thompson fans. Morrone gives an impressive performance, and Dafoe portrays Hunter  with a typically idiosyncratic flourish (sans the somewhat self-conscious mannerisms that Bill Murray and Johnny Depp deployed in their characterizations).

SIFF 2025: Jean Cocteau (***)

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on  May 17, 2025)

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Director Lisa Immordino Vreeland utilizes a non-linear collage of film clips, archival interviews, and a present-day actor reading from letters and diary entries to create a vivid portrait of the avant-garde poet/visual artist/playwright/film director. It’s an enlightening study; I picked up a number of new tidbits on his life and work (I was familiar with him mostly from his films – e.g. Blood of a Poet, Orpheus, and Beauty and the Beast). The address he made in 1960 “to the youth of the future” is a mind-blower. I found it particularly interesting how his “apolitical” stance made him a pariah to both the Left and the Right at various junctures. Absorbing and rewarding.

SIFF 2025: Blue Road: The Edna O’Brien Story (***1/2)

By Dennis Hartley

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Never heard about Oscar Wilde
Don’t know about Brendan Behan
Know anything about Sean O’Casey
Or care about George Bernard Shaw
Or Samuel Beckett
Won’t talk about Eugene O’Neill
He won’t talk about Edna O’Brien
Or know anything about Lawrence Stern

Being the proud middlebrow that I am, I will freely admit that the only two things I previously knew about Irish writer Edna O’Brien was 1) she was name-checked in my favorite Dexy Midnight Runners song (“Dance Stance”), and 2) that the 1964 UK kitchen sink drama Girl With Green Eyes was adapted from her novel “The Lonely Girl” (which I haven’t read).

However, I’m happy to report that Sinéad O’Shea’s engaging documentary portrait of the outspoken novelist, playwright, poet and short-story writer (who died in 2024 at the ripe age of 93) has set me straight. Now I want to read everything she wrote.

What a life. She was raised by an abusive father; left home and married writer Ernest Gébler when she was 24 (he was 40), and was garnering universal critical acclaim for her debut novel (“The Country Girls”) by age 30.

That book (and several of her subsequent works) were banned in Ireland, due to their sexual frankness (and anti-patriarchal stance, no doubt). Undaunted, she pushed onward with her career,  becoming the toast of the town in London, and eventually selling her work to Hollywood (in the film, the nonagenarian O’Brien bemusedly recounts escapades with Robert Mitchum and Marlon Brando). A film as provocative and uncompromising as its subject.

SIFF 2025: Four Mothers (***1/2)

By Dennis Hartley

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SIFF’s Opening Night Gala selection is the latest from writer-director Darren Thornton (A Date For Mad Mary). James McArdle stars as a gay novelist about to embark on an important American book tour. While he is excited about the prospect, he is torn about what to do about his mother while he is away (he’s her caregiver).

Adding to his stress level, he is unexpectedly saddled with taking care of three additional elderly women when several of his friends drop their mams off with him before heading off to a Pride festival for a weekend (he’s too nice a fellow to say no).

A delightful dramedy inspired by the Italian film Mid-August Lunch (my 2009 SIFF review). Bolstered by crackling dialog (co-written by the director and Colin Thornton) and endearing performances all round (particularly by Fionnula Flanagan as the writer’s mother, who steals all her scenes without uttering a word).

SIFF 2024: In Our Day (***)

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 11, 2024)

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Look in the dictionary under “quiet observation”, and you’ll find a print of auteur Hong Sang-soo’s character study of two artists (a 40-ish actress and an aging poet), each at a crossroads in their creative journey. Sang-soo’s beautifully constructed narrative chugs along at the speed of life; I understand that this may induce drowsiness with some viewers-but the devil is in the details, and those who pay close attention to them will be richly rewarded.

SIFF 2024: Hitchcock’s Pro-Nazi Film? (***)

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 11, 2024)

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I’ve always considered Alfred Hitchcock’s1944 war drama Lifeboat (about a small group of passengers who survive the sinking of their vessel by a U-boat) as a sharply observed microcosm of the human condition. However, Daphné Baiwir’s documentary sheds a different light, recalling a critical backlash from some who condemned the film as pro-German (an aspect I had never really considered before). A fascinating look at Hollywood in the 1940s, and the effects of war hysteria.

Blu-ray reissue: Gothic (***)

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on February 24, 2024)

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Gothic (BFI; Region ‘B’ locked)

OK, full disclosure. In my 2012 review of Guy Maddin’s Keyhole, I wrote:

[Keyhole is} Reminiscent of Ken Russell’s Gothic, another metaphorical long day’s journey into night via the labyrinth of an old dark house. And, like Russell’s film, Maddin’s is visually intoxicating, but ultimately undermined by an overdose of art house pretension and self-indulgent excess.

One might read that and glean that I was underwhelmed by Ken Russell’s 1987 drama. At the time, perhaps I was. But I reserve the right to occasionally change my appraisal of a film…especially when it comes to certain filmmakers like, well, Ken Russell for instance (David Lynch comes to mind as well). Sometimes, you are not in the “right” receptive mood for a  specific filmmaker’s uh, aesthetic. Upon a repeat viewing or two, some films will sort of…grow on you.

At any rate, this “metaphorical long day’s journey into night via the labyrinth of an old dark house” has grown on me; particularly as a fascinating treatise on one of life’s greatest mysteries: where does creativity come from? In this case, what “inspired” Mary Shelley (Natasha Richardson) to create her classic novel Frankenstein?

Russell’s speculative history tale suggests that “the Creature” was born during the course of a wild weekend at the country estate of Lord Byron (Gabriel Byrne). Byron invites Mary Shelly and her famous poet husband Percy (Julian Sands) for a sleepover that turns into a druggy, debauched night of “horror” (whether real or imagined is  left up to the viewer). Kinetic performances all round from a cast that includes Timothy Spall and Myriam Syr.  Stephen Volk wrote the screenplay; the music is by Thomas Dolby. There was added poignancy to my recent viewing, in light of Julian Sands’ tragic passing last year (Natasha Richardson also left us much too soon).

BFI has assembled an extensive package, starting with a sparkling transfer that nicely highlights DP Mike Southon’s vivid photography and Michael Buchanan’s lush art direction (his resume includes Orlando and The Krays).  There’s a heap of extras, including a full-length 83-minute 2002 video work by the director called The Fall of the Louse of Usher (starring  Russell and his wife Lisi) and a rare 27-minute Russell short from 1957 called Amelia and the Angel.

(Note: This is a Region ‘B’ disc, requiring an all-region player).

Writer’s block: Top 10 films about writers

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on February 25, 2023)

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Confession: I’ve been suffering from writer’s block. I don’t know “what” (if anything) has precipitated it – the current state of the world, the fact that I’m screaming toward my 67th birthday, a general malaise, or perhaps all of the above…I cannot say for sure.

Just for giggles (or in an act of pure desperation), I pulled up the Chat GPT app this morning, and typed in: “Give me 500 words on writer’s block.” It only gave me 3:

I got nuthin’.

Thanks. I’m here all week.

But seriously folks…this AI chatbot interface thing is raising serious ethical issues re: the art of creative writing. It’s just…weird. And it’s about to get weirder:

ChatGPT has taken the tech world by storm, showcasing artificial intelligence (AI) with conversational abilities that go far beyond anything we’ve seen before.

The viral chatbot interface is based on GPT-3, said to be one of the largest and most complex language models ever created – trained on 175 billion “parameters” (data points).

However, it’s something of an open secret that its creator – the AI research organization OpenAI – is well into development of its successor, GPT-4. Rumor has it that GPT-4 will be far more powerful and capable than GPT-3. One source even went as far as claiming that the parameter count has been upped to the region of 100 trillion, although this has been disputed in colorful language by Sam Altman, OpenAI’s CEO. […]

Altman himself has dismissed the idea that it is trained on 100 trillion parameters as “complete bullshit,” but some sources are claiming that it could be up to 100 times larger than GPT-3, which would put it in the region of 17 trillion parameters. However, Altman has also gone on record as saying it may not, in fact, be much larger than GPT-3. […]

When something causes as much excitement as GPT-3 has done, there’s an inevitability around the fact that the next iterations may not seem so groundbreaking. After all, once we’ve been amazed at a computer writing poetry, are we going to be as amazed a few years later by a computer writing slightly better poetry?

Ha! That free verse doesn’t even rhyme. Stupid chatbot interface!

Anyway…what was I talking about? Oh yes…writer’s block. In my review of Margarethe von Trotta’s 2013 biopic Hannah Arendt, I wrote:

A comic I worked with a few times during my stand-up days (whose name escapes me) used to do a parody song (to the tune of Dion’s “The Wanderer”) that was not only funny, but a clever bit of meta regarding the very process of coming up with “funny”. It began with “Ohh…I’m the type of guy, who likes to sit around,” (that’s all I remember of the verse) and the chorus went: “Cuz I’m the ponderer, yeeah…I’m the ponderer, I sit around around around around…”

Still makes me chuckle thinking about it. And it’s so true. Writers do spend an inordinate amount of time sitting around and thinking about writing. To the casual observer it may appear he or she is just sitting there staring into space, but at any given moment (and you’ll have to trust me on this one) their senses are working overtime.

So it was that I have found inspiration in my lack thereof (let’s see a chatbot pull that off). To wit, I’ve pondered the myriad films I have seen about screenwriters, novelists, journalists, poets, and playwrights, and curated 10 cinematic page-turners:

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American SplendorFrom the streets of Cleveland! Paul Giamatti was born to play underground comic writer Harvey Pekar, the misanthropic file clerk/armchair philosopher who became a cult figure after collaborating with legendary comic illustrator R. Crumb. Co-directors Shari Berman and Robert Pulcini break down “the fourth wall” throughout with imaginative visuals. Hope Davis gives a wonderfully deadpan performance as Pekar’s wife.

Written by: Harvey Pekar, Joyce Brabner, Shari Springer Berman, and Robert Pulcini

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An Angel at My Table-Jane Campion directed this moving and inspiring biopic about successful New Zealand novelist Janet Frame (beautifully played at various stages of her life by three actresses, most notably Kerry Fox). When she was a young woman, her social phobia and generalized anxiety was misdiagnosed as a serious mental illness and she ended up spending nearly a decade in and out of institutions. Not for the faint of heart.

Written by: Janet Frame and Laura Jones

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Barfly-It’s the battle of the quirky method actors as Mickey Rourke and Faye Dunaway guzzle rye and wax wry in Barbet Shcroeder’s booze-soaked dark comedy. The 1987 film is based on the life of writer/poet Charles Bukowski. Richly drawn, right down to the bit parts. Look for Sylvester Stallone’s brother Frank as a bartender who repeatedly beats the crap out of Rourke (I’d lay odds that Rourke could take him in a real-life back alley scrap!). If you’re up for a double feature, I’d suggest the compelling documentary Bukowski: Born into This.

Written by: Charles Bukowski

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Endless Poetry – Ever since his 1970 Leone-meets-Fellini “western” El Topo redefined the meaning of “WTF?, Chilean film maker/poet/actor/composer/comic book creator Alejandro Jodorowsky has continued to push the creative envelope.

This 2016 film, the second part of a “proposed pentalogy of memoirs”, follows young Alejandro (played by the director’s son Adan, who also composed the soundtrack) as he comes into his own as a poet. Defying his nay-saying father, he flees to Santiago and ingratiates himself with the local bohemians. He caterwauls into a tempestuous relationship with a redheaded force of nature named Stella. What ensues is the most gloriously over-the-top biopic since Ken Russell’s The Music Lovers. This audacious work of art not only confirms its creator has the soul of a poet, but is a nearly tactile evocation of poetry itself.

Written by: Alejandro Jodorowsky

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The Front-Martin Ritt’s downbeat yet politically rousing 1976 drama uses the entertainment industry’s spurious McCarthy era blacklist as a backdrop. Woody Allen is very effective as a semi-literate bookie who ends up “fronting” for several blacklisted TV writers. Zero Mostel is brilliant in a tragicomic performance (Mostel, screenwriter Walter Bernstein and several other participants actually were blacklisted).

Written by: Walter Bernstein

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Hearts of the West – Jeff Bridges gives a winning performance in this 1975 charmer as a rube from Iowa, a wannabe pulp western writer with the unlikely name of “Lewis Tater” (the scene where he asks the barber to cut his hair to make him look “just like Zane Grey” is priceless.)

Tater gets fleeced by a mail-order scam promising enrollment in what turns out to be a bogus university “out west”. Serendipity lands him a job as a stuntman in 1930s Hollywood westerns.

The film features one of Andy Griffith’s best big screen performances, and Alan Arkin is a riot as a perpetually apoplectic director (he handily steals every scene he’s in). Excellent direction by Howard Zieff,. Also with Donald Pleasence, Blythe Danner, Richard B. Shull, and Herb Edelman.

Written by: Rob Thompson

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Henry and June – Fred Ward (who passed away in 2022) delivers one of his finest performances portraying gruff, libidinous literary icon Henry Miller. Writer-director Philip Kaufman’s 1990 drama is set in 1930s Paris, when Miller was working on his infamous novel Tropic of Cancer. The film concentrates on the complicated love triangle between Miller, his wife June (Uma Thurman) and erotic novelist Anais Nin (Maria de Medeiros).

Despite the frequent nudity and eroticism, the film is curiously un-sexy, but still a well-acted character study. Richard E. Grant portrays Nin’s husband. Adapted from Nin’s writings. For better or for worse, the film holds the distinction of being the first recipient of the MPAA’s “NC-17” rating.

Written by: Anais Nin, Philip Kaufman, and Rose Kaufman

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In a Lonely Place – It’s apropos that a film about a writer would contain a soliloquy that any writer would kill to have written: “I was born when she kissed me. I died when she left me. I lived a few weeks while she loved me.”

Those words are uttered by Dixon Steele (Humphrey Bogart), a Hollywood screenwriter with a volatile temperament. He also has quirky working habits, which leads to a fateful encounter with a hatcheck girl, who he hires for the evening to read aloud from a pulpy novel that he’s been assigned by the studio to adapt into a screenplay (it helps his process).

At the end of the night, he gives her cab fare and sends her on her way. Unfortunately, the young woman turns up murdered, and Dix becomes a prime suspect (mostly due to his unflagging wisecracking). An attractive neighbor (Gloria Grahame) steps in at a crucial moment to give him an unsolicited alibi (and really spice things up).

A marvelous film noir, directed by the great Nicholas Ray, with an intelligent script full of twists and turns that keep you guessing right up until the end. It’s a precursor (of sorts) to Basic Instinct (or it could have been a direct influence, for all I know).

Written by: Andrew Solt and Edmund H. North (from a story by Dorothy B. Hughes)

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The Owl and the Pussycat – George Segal plays a reclusive, egghead NYC writer and Barbra Streisand is a perfect foil in one of her best comedic turns as a profane, boisterous sex worker in this classic “oil and water” farce, based on a stage play and directed by Herbert Ross. Serendipity throws the two odd bedfellows together one fateful evening, and the resulting mayhem is crude, lewd, and funny as hell. Robert Klein is wonderfully droll in a small but memorable role. My favorite line: “Doris…you’re a sexual Disneyland!”

Written by: Bill Manhoff (original stage play) and Buck Henry (screenplay)

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Prick Up Your Ears-Gary Oldman chews major scenery in this biopic about British playwright Joe Orton, who lived fast and died young. Alfred Molina nearly steals the film as Orton’s lover, Kenneth Halliwell. Halliwell was a middling writer who had a complex, love-hate obsession with his partner’s effortless artistic gifts (you might say he played Salieri to Orton’s Mozart). This obsession led to a shocking and heartbreaking tragedy. Director Stephen Frears captures the exuberance of “swinging” 1960s London to a tee.

Written by: Alan Bennett and John Lahr

Nice, very nice: Kurt Vonnegut: Unstuck in Time (****)

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on November 27, 2021)

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In a 2019 review of George Roy Hill’s 1974 film Slaughterhouse-Five, I wrote:

Film adaptations of Kurt Vonnegut stories have a checkered history; from downright awful (Slapstick of Another Kind) or campy misfires (Breakfast of Champions) to passable time killers (Happy Birthday, Wanda June and Mother Night). For my money, your best bets are Jonathan Demme’s 1982 PBS American Playhouse short Who Am I This Time? and this 1974 feature film by director George Roy Hill.

Michael Sacks stars as milquetoast daydreamer Billy Pilgrim, a WW2 vet who weathers the devastating Allied firebombing of Dresden as a POW. After the war, he marries his sweetheart, fathers a son and daughter and settles into a comfortable middle-class life, making a living as an optometrist.

A standard all-American postwar scenario…except for the part where a UFO lands on his nice, manicured lawn and spirits him off to the planet Tralfamadore, after which he becomes permanently “unstuck” in time, i.e., begins living (and re-living) his life in random order.

Now I am transported to 2021, the year I discovered that the best film adaptation of a Kurt Vonnegut story (Slaughterhouse-Five aside) is…Kurt Vonnegut’s life story, which is the subject of Robert B. Weide and Dan Argoff’s documentary Kurt Vonnegut: Unstuck in Time. One could argue that Vonnegut, a WW2 vet who weathered the devastating Allied firebombing of Dresden as a POW, was in fact telling his life story in novels like Slaughterhouse-Five, Cat’s Cradle, and God Bless You Mr. Rosewater.

Vonnegut’s postwar scenario was also not unlike Billy Pilgrim’s. He married his first wife Jane Cox, and they had a son and two daughters. In 1957, their household nearly doubled in size in the wake of an almost unbearably sad family tragedy. Vonnegut’s sister Alice died of cancer, only two days after her husband lost his life in a commuter train crash. Kurt and Jane welcomed three of the late couple’s children into their family.

Of course, Vonnegut’s life does not begin and end with Slaughterhouse-Five; while it sold like gangbusters and made him an instant darling of the literary set, his was no “overnight success” story. By the time of the book’s publication in 1969, Vonnegut had already been toiling at his typewriter for nearly 20 years in relative obscurity (although his 1963 religious satire Cat’s Cradle had become a cult favorite with college students). In the meantime, he still had to punch the clock to support his family (including a stint during the 1950s with the ad department for General Electric in Schenectady, New York).

Despite his breakthrough success (or arguably due to it), the 1970s were an emotional roller coaster for Vonnegut; his first marriage fell apart, he holed up in a New York City apartment and dealt with chronic depression and writer’s block for several years, and his bi-polar son suffered a mental breakdown. He found his mojo again by channeling family travails into two of his 70s novels, Breakfast of Champions and Slapstick (not popular with critics, but therapeutic). He remarried in 1979, and enjoyed a career resurgence soon after.

Fast-forward (or become “unstuck” if you will) to 1982. Burgeoning filmmaker and avid Vonnegut fan Robert Weide sent him a letter proposing a documentary portrait. A fair amount of time passed with no reply. As Weide himself recounts in the film, just when he’d given up hope that he’d ever hear back, he received a handwritten letter from Vonnegut giving his blessing. An over-the-moon Weide started work on the film in 1988.

When you consider the film’s belated 2021 release, it goes without saying a project nearly 40 years in the making is nothing, if not a labor of love. Love, as I see it, is the film’s theme. It’s about the love of creating, the love of writing, the love of a reader for their favorite author, and ultimately, the love of family and the love of a long friendship.

Weide (best known as a director and executive producer on Curb Your Enthusiasm) offers an endearing apologia early on for being “one of those directors” who interjects himself into his documentary; to his credit he stays fairly unobtrusive (over the decades the filmmaker and his subject developed and sustained a genuine father and son closeness until Vonnegut’s death in 2007).

This is no hagiography; Weide doesn’t sugarcoat the bad patches nor the darker sides of Vonnegut’s personality (“genius is pain”, an English poet once sang). The result is an intimate, inspiring, funny and deeply moving portrait of one of the greatest American writers of the 20th Century. Weide’s film beautifully illustrates how loss and trauma can be spun into gold by the alchemy of an inventive imagination. And so it goes.

Blu-ray reissue: Mirror (***1/2)

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on July 17, 2021)

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Mirror (The Criterion Collection)

Forgive me as I draw the chalk backwards (shameless middlebrow that I am) but watching Andrei Tarkovsky’s 1975 drama for the first time made me reassess my cheeky 2011 review of Terrence Malick’s Tree of Life. My opinion of Malick’s film hasn’t changed, but I can now state with confidence that I “get” what he was aiming for (also see: my review of Laurie Anderson’s Heart of a Dog).

In my experience, Tarkovsky’s films (Solaris, Stalker, Ivan’s Childhood, The Sacrifice, et.al.) are a wash the first time I see them but gain resonance upon repeat viewings. Yes, that’s a long-winded way of saying they are “challenging”. On reflection (sorry), Mirror is the most challenging of all; perhaps because it is Tarkovsky’s most personal statement.

Which reminds me of a funny story. Upon its initial release, Mirror received cheeky reviews from Soviet critics, who dismissed it as too obscure and self-indulgent. However, history has been kinder regarding this journey to the center of Tarkovsky’s mind. The film plays like a mashup of Amarcord, Wild Strawberries, and Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge; equal parts personal memoir, history lesson and postcards from the subconscious.

Criterion’s Blu-ray sports a new 2K digital restoration, which enhances an already visually stunning film. Extras include The Dream in the Mirror, an absorbing new documentary by Louise Milne and Seán Martin that lends thoughtful context to the more enigmatic elements of the film, and Andrei Tarkovsky: A Cinema Prayer, a 2019 documentary by his son Andrei A. Tarkovsky (which I haven’t had a chance to view yet).