Goldblatt, Mark

The Punisher

First, a few facts. Dolph Lundgren expresses emotions ranging from stoic to, well, really stoic. There are holes in the story large enough to pilot the Exxon Valdez through without spilling a drop. And the film is littered with action movie clichés. But none of this matters. The Punisher succeeds because it stays true to its origins, the Marvel comic of the same name. Studio-engineered films such as Batman never quite capture the mixture of loyalty and betrayal, justice and revenge, moral ambiguity and emotional truth that are the hallmarks of the graphic novel. Films such as Darkman do. So does The Punisher. Lundgren plays Frank Castle, a dedicated policeman whose family was wiped out in a mob hit. He went underground (literally) and, as the Punisher, has been exacting his revenge, killing 125 mobsters in the past five years. But when the yakuza (Japanese Mafia) moves in on the mob's territory and kidnaps their children, it's up to the Punisher to rescue the kids. The action blazes, Lundgren (a former full-contact karate champ) moves with feral grace, the production design is a pleasure to watch, and director Mark Goldblatt (whose credits as editor include such big films as Starship Troopers and True Lies) has a clean, efficient style. --Geof Miller

Dead Heat (Divimax Special Edition)

Eerie, Indiana - Forever Ware / The Retainer / ATM with a Heart of Gold

The heartland of the American Midwest traditionally has been held up as everything from wholesome to stiflingly dull. This makes it a natural backdrop for this terrific, tongue-in-cheek juvenile fantasy, a place that looks like a squeaky-clean 1950s sitcom suburb but hides more secrets than Blue Velvet: Elvis lives down the street and Bigfoot roots through the neighborhood trash bins. Omri Katz (Matinee) and Justin Shenkarow (TV's Picket Fences) are a pair of adolescent Hardy Boys stuck in "America's capital of weird," a mix of The X-Files and Kolchak: The Night Stalker spun into a comic Twilight Zone. Creative consultant Joe Dante directed two of the episodes in this collection: "Forever Ware," about a demonic plastic container that keeps everything fresh and young forever--even people--and "The Retainer," where tinsel-teethed teens overhear the dreaded conspiracies cooked up by the neighborhood dogs. The third episode, "The ATM with a Heart of Gold," explores just how friendly the friendly neighborhood electronic teller can be. Clever, spirited, and directed with a tongue-in-cheek playfulness, this 1991-92 series looks more contemporary than ever in the wake of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Maybe it was just ahead of its time. --Sean Axmaker