Sunday, Mar. 26, 2006

5 DVD Sets From 5 Greats

By RICHARD CORLISS

THE SHIRLEY TEMPLE COLLECTION, VOLUME 3

The top box-office star of the '30s was 6 years old when she became a leading lady. Kids by the millions wanted her curls, her doll, the nonalcoholic cocktail named for her. Oh, there was a clockwork tinge to her adorability, her sugary films were anathema to sophisticates, and parts of her plantation musicals (such as The Little Colonel and The Littlest Rebel in this set) were, and are, criminally patronizing. But even Dakota Fanning doesn't hit every one out of the park and, man, Shirley could tap-dance--dance away the Depression, some said, or at least the depression in Hollywood. Here's a three-part dose of optimism from the New Deal's youngest and most potent ambassador.

THE SPIKE LEE JOINT COLLECTION

Time was when a Spike Lee movie was an infallible social blood test: if yours didn't heat up at his take on racial tensions, you probably needed a transfusion. Looking at five of his films (Do the Right Thing, Mo' Better Blues, Jungle Fever, Clockers, Crooklyn) years later, though, one can see the camera stylist behind the street-corner Savonarola. Sure, he editorializes with nearly every shot, but he's also a clever fellow at framing the action and getting sharp turns from lots of terrific actors. This joint's worth dropping into.

THE MEL BROOKS COLLECTION

The man who gave movie bad taste a good name finally has his own boxed set, with eight features (The Twelve Chairs, Blazing Saddles, Young Frankenstein, Silent Movie, High Anxiety, To Be or Not to Be, History of the World, Part I and Robin Hood: Men in Tights)--virtually the entire canon, minus The Producers. Most of those are extensions of the genre parodies Brooks and other early-TV geniuses wrote for Sid Caesar. The gags are hit-and-miss, but when they hit, you feel them in your gut. And each film has at least one shining moment, whether it be flatulent cowboys or synchronized-swimming nuns. A big disappointment: no Brooks commentaries. The collection is incomplete without a juicy vat of pinwheeling ad libs from the foremost tummler--sorry, raconteur--of our time.

GREENAWAY: THE EARLY FILMS

The triple-sec alternative to Mel Brooks' very wet humor, Peter Greenaway is the commercial cinema's pre-eminent avant-gardist. Back before he made The Draughtsman's Contract and 8 1/2 Women, he made meticulously malevolent short films (seven are collected here) and The Falls, a three-hour fake-umentary about 92 people whose lives were altered by a Violent Unknown Event. The textual and textural density is intoxicating, the English wit so dry you could choke on it. A sturdy challenge for movie lovers--and unmissable.

THE BUSBY BERKELEY COLLECTION

Dancing made stars in the '30s: Temple, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, Eleanor Powell. As for the toe-tapping extras, the foot soldiers of Hollywood musicals, Busby Berkeley put them to work by the hundreds, using them to create giant geometric shapes that were both military and erotic. From a Rockettes-style line eight or 10 deep, they would evolve into the human pictograph of a piano or a woman's face. This collection assembles the works that made Berkeley famous: 42nd Street, Footlight Parade, Dames and the first two Gold Diggers movies. For the pure Busby buzz, skip to the last half-hour of each film. That's where his numbers are. Better yet, overdose on the three-hour compilation also included. Dance delirium never came in so big and beautiful a package.