Great!

Here I am barely finishing my Our Town review and wondering what I’ll have for the Column, and Dick Dinman sends over a handy link to his new DVD Classics Corner on The Air show on the new Kino disc of The Carpetbaggers.

Joining Dick to dish the dirt over Harold Robbins’ vintage trash-tale of Hollywood — the opposite of The Last Tycoon, reviewed last Saturday, is David Del Valle.

Our own take on The Carpetbaggers was through a foreign release, covered here in 2020. Kino’s new disc has twin commentaries, one by Del Valle and his cohort David DeCoteau, and another by the capable Julie Kirgo.

We’ve been trying to keep track, in the last few weeks, of desirable Region B discs that only crazy committed disc collectors can play. The dependable Gary Teetzel drops a flag and blows his whistle whenever something interesting is released, and I jump every time …

… the joke being that, if we buy, it soon shows up in Region A in a deluxe, and often cheaper, disc set.

So we wonder about our own sense of dedication when we eye a new Region B offering from UK’s Cult Classics (Studiocanal): the campy Brit Science Fiction thriller/sitcom/turnip Devil Girl from Mars.

We reviewed it ages ago in a cheap Image/Wade Williams disc set, and even though we remember it with smiles, we haven’t been tempted to watch it again.

On the other hand, we go crazy for ALL crackpot Sci-fi pix in beautiful new remasters, which is what this promises to be. Who can resist slinky, imperious Patricia Laffan and her pet refrigerator imposing killer robot, Chani.

Questions remain: will this only play in Region B, or will it be Region-Free?  What will the aspect ratio be?  The word from the experts is that it was originally 1:75 or 1:66, or thereabouts. The image of the back cover online says 1.37 and Region B . . . but I’ll have to see for myself. Reader reports encouraged.

We have to admit that the original cover art is difficult to pass up — the leather-clad Devil Girl Nyah looks like Cruella De Vil from Outer Space.

Thanks for reading! — Glenn Erickson