Apartment Zero:
Original Theatrical Version

Released in 1988, Martin Donovan’s Apartment Zero was notable not only for its taut Hitchcockian suspense, but for its intense homoeroticism. A then-unknown Colin Firth (Bridget Jones’ Diary) stars as Adrian, a nervous nelly of a cinema buff who rents an extra room in his apartment to a handsome but mysterious American (a smoldering Hart Bochner, doing his best Brad Davis) who may or may not be a serial killer. Emboldened by a palpable sexual tension between the two men that rivals any porn flick, this edgy chiller (which predates the similarly plotted but less thrilling Single White Female by several years) delivers jumps—and sexual thrills—aplenty, and should be required viewing for any filmmaker aspiring to make a good scary movie. Extas: Director’s commentary, along with a commentary by screenwriter/producer David Koepp and “special guest” Steven Soderbergh. But really, where were the two leads?—Ken Knox

C.R.A.Z.Y.

Jean-Marc Vallée’s tender C.R.A.Z.Y. is so rich in characterization—and so subtle in its exploration of a troubled youth dealing with his homosexuality in the ‘70s—that it would be easy to dismiss the film as just another valentine to glam rock and sexual androgyny. That would be a mistake. As 15-year-old Zachary, Marc-André Grondin delivers a seemingly effortless study of angst-ridden adolescence, while Michel Côté more than holds his own as the boy’s homophobic father. It’s rare to see such a thorough examination of the relationships between gay men and their fathers, and it’s even rarer that such films are as good (and, indeed, as sincere) as this charming sleeper is. An evocative soundtrack (Bowie, Pink Floyd, Jefferson Airplane, Patsy Cline, etc.) and attention to detail help sell the plot, but it’s the richly textured story of a family in the throes of “growing pains” that truly makes this one a winner. Extras: Sadly, just a trailer.—K.K.

Dixie Chicks: Shut Up and Sing

It’s impossible to watch Shut Up and Sing—Barbara Kopple and Cecilia Peck’s revealing, no-holds-barred documentary on the Dixie Chicks’ experience dealing with the fall-out surrounding lead singer Natalie Maines’ now-infamous comment about President Bush—and not feel a swell of various emotions. The directors tracked the talented trio for three years, from just before that fateful London concert to the release of their last album, 2006’s brilliant Taking the Long Way, and captured them at their most self-righteous, outspoken, vulnerable and, ultimately, endearing. Accordingly, the filmmakers paint a truly rounded portrait of their subjects, but the most notable thing about their movie is how it gets under the skin of the viewer and makes one want to stand up and cheer for the sense of righteousness that comes from watching these three great American heroines provide a profound example of true patriotism. And that’s not just whistling Dixie. Extras: Hell, they could have at least included the video for “Not Ready to Make Nice,” but all we get is a theatrical trailer.—K.K.