Along with Insomnia and the inexplicably-unreleased Death To Smoochy, this eerie thriller serves to rehabilitate Robin Williams. His cloying wacky zaniness jettisoned, he's a broody bugger as the middle-aged loser who becomes obsessed with a cute family whose holiday snaps he's developed for years. Like a chubbier Travis Bickle, he feels his fantasy figures owe him emotional payback. He freaks, rivetingly.
A terrific primer on Scott-Heron's lyrical, funky jazz bluesology, Robert Mugge's semi-concert documentary was first broadcast on Channel Four in 1983. Two decades on, the charismatic proto-rapper still comes over as a warm and eloquent performer, wry social commentator and effortless stand-up comedian.
It's not hard to see why the second version of Hollywood's infamous morality tale of the tortured love between a rising starlet (Judy Garland in her best role outside of Oz) and her older, alcoholic has-been suitor (the impeccable James Mason) is generally regarded as the best. George Cukor's Technicolor palette and Ira Gershwin's music are the ideal accoutrements for what is basically camp melodrama at its most sumptuous.
DA Pennebaker, that eminent celluloid chronicler of live rock (Don't Look Back, Down From The Mountain), filmed the farewell Ziggy show (July 3, 1973, Hammersmith Odeon), and now Tony Visconti's remixed the soundtrack for a 30th anniversary double CD special edition (the film's out on DVD, too). Bowie's between-song banter is included for the first time, most notably the big bold brouhaha of the bye-bye speech. And "The Width Of A Circle" is present in all its noisy, unedited, 16-minute glory.