Criterion Crazy: CC40
Written by Andreas Babiolakis
Holy. Shit.
So, the fortieth anniversary of the Criterion Collection is approaching, and the beloved company has, like always, celebrated the event with a bang. It isn’t unlike Criterion to release multi-film box sets like this, as we can reflect on the Essential Art House: 50 Years of Janus Films release that is sadly now out of print (and, judging by this latest announcement, is likely never to return). Having said that, what was dropped yesterday out of nowhere is the revelation of CC40: a forty film collection of some of Criterion’s most beloved titles (with enough variety between filmmakers, with each director being restricted to just one title in this box set). The films were selected not simply based on quality or popularity, but by the general consensus of what got selected by film industry personnel and experts, specifically the kind who have been invited to peruse through the Criterion Closet in their popular Closet Picks series. The Closet Picks videos get their own feature in this box set, and it is my understanding that each of the selected films get their own separate features as well, which amounts to an astronomically high amount of hours of content for any adoring cinephile. The films included are as follows in the order provided by the Criterion website:
• 8 1/2 (1963)
• Tokyo Story (1953)
• All That Jazz (1979)
• Bicycle Thieves (1948)
• Repo Man (1984)
• Naked (1993)
• Jules et Jim (1962)
• Being There (1979)
• Weekend (1967)
• Yi Yi (2000)
• The Night of the Hunter (1955)
• Pickpocket (1959)
• Sweet Smell of Success (1957)
• On the Waterfront (1954)
• Do the Right Thing (1989)
• Ratcatcher (1999)
• Sunday Bloody Sunday (1971)
• Mirror (1975)
• Barry Lyndon (1975)
• Safe (1995)
• Seconds (1966)
• His Girl Friday (1940)
• Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters (1985)
• Y tu mamá también (2001)
• My Own Private Idaho (1991)
• Love & Basketball (2000)
• Night of the Living Dead (1968)
• Ace in the Hole (1951)
• 3 Women (1977)
• The Red Shoes (1948)
• Down By Law (1986)
• La Ciénaga (2001)
• Wanda (1970)
• House (1977)
• Sullivan’s Travels (1941)
• The Battle of Algiers (1966)
• A Woman Under the Influence (1974)
• Cléo from 5 to 7 (1962)
• Persona (1966)
• In the Mood for Love (2000)
That is a seismic slate of films. The box set covers decades of films and film movements, from French New Wave and Hollywood to many other currents via one-off representations (like My Own Private idaho representing the New Queer Cinema movement of the eighties and nineties). There is an attempt to balance out the directors (an eighth of these releases are from female directors, for instance), but in trying to figure out the representation here, you may begin to find how CC40 is as contained as it is expansive. Sometimes, the films picked are not the best representations of what they’re meant to embody (I personally love Jean-Luc Godard’s Weekend, but is that really the best place to start for cinephiles who have never seen a film of his?), and often the sole film selected — if it’s not a niche, cult favourite like Weekend — is the more obvious and popular choice (Tokyo Story is unquestionably my favourite film by Yasujirō Ozu, but I feel like other films of his get targeted quite frequently and may serve as a less blatant entry here). There are also a few headscratching omissions regarding which directors did and did not make the final cut, as we’re missing out on Akira Kurosawa and David Lynch (who are Criterion Collection mainstays as much as most of the filmmaker who do get included), but I do wonder how many copyright related mazes Criterion had to get through in order to make what we do get work.
Of course, it’s impossible to have a perfect selection of films especially when it’s reduced to forty titles that are meant to carry the history of cinema from all over the globe. Unlike all Criterion announcements (where I sometimes have to quickly do my homework in order to prepare for my articles), I have seen every single film in this box set, and the weakest film (I won’t even dare point it out) is great. You are guaranteed to have forty strong-to-masterful titles here, and that’s nothing to sneeze what when you consider how many hours of cinematic gold that is for any film lover (from brand new, budding addicts, to fully blown veterans who have, like me, already fulfilled their due dilligence of watching these coveted films before such a box set could even be released). Regardless of the pickiness some like myself may exemplify, make no mistake as to how great CC40 is as a whole: every film adorer should see these works, and own at least most — if not all — of them.
That does carry me on to the next potential gripe you may have. This box set is curated for Criterion Collection aficionados who have followed them for years, given the amount of fan favourites that are included (including House and Repo Man, which are cult classics which have their very specific audiences and may be torture to other film circles). I find myself in this predicament, and I’m sure you may be in the same spot as well: don’t the biggest Criterion nuts already own a large portion of these titles (if not, many to all of them)? This is when you remind me that CC40 could very well be a box set intended for blossoming film buffs to explore more films with, but then I will bring up the price tag: CC40 is, understandably, eight hundred U.S. dollars (you’re looking at eleven hundred Canadian dollars for my local readers; not even a Criterion Flash Sale of fifty percent off can make it feel affordable despite the respectable dent that the discount will make). As I recall someone back in high school who hand built his very first electric guitar only to give up playing a few months in, beginners need baby steps, and not all curious film newbies can just fork over a grand to discover more (at that cost, it truly does feel like one is enrolling themselves in an at-home FILM 101 course). I do think that having this as a Blu-ray release is a nice, middle-of-the-pack decision, as many Criterion fans prefer quality that is higher than what DVDs offer, but not everyone owns a 4K player (imagine how much more expensive this would be as a 4K release as well).
Even though I can’t figure out what the ideal target audience for this box set is, it’s nonetheless gorgeous and its contents have much thought put into them (maybe more than the affordability or demographic). Anyone who does pick this up when it is available in November will be getting an entire library of masterpieces and favourites, all delivered in a stunning case that is due to look incredible on your bookshelf (I mean look at it; it will tie any collection together not just with its content but aesthetically as well). My assumption is that Criterion was always going to make a big splash to honour this anniversary, but that the box set is to make a vibrant re-introduction after Criterion was sold to Steven Rales earlier this year. Even though more materials would be necessary (the Blu-ray discs and the cardboard necessary were likely going to other titles anyway), Criterion can cleverly navigate the films they already have the rights to distribute, compile them here, and make more money off of those who want to buy this box set (and, knowing Criterion fans, many will buy this). It’s a double-win situation where Criterion can celebrate their catalogue while hopefully securing the company financially after what appears to be a turbulent journey these past few years.
So, is CC40 worth it? It depends on who you talk to, what they already own, what they can afford, how far along the cinematic journey they are, and how much value they can get out of this purchase. In the grand scheme of things, this is a monster of a release that I think reads brilliantly on paper, but it is one that I do advise not just rushing into (then again, if you can just blindly buy a box set that’s a thousand dollars without worry, then maybe you lead a life that is bereft of tribulations). Another alternative is doing what we’ve already been doing: picking up the specific titles you like the most and not investing in every single thing Criterion has to offer. While individually buying all forty of these films will be vastly more expensive than this box set (which, again, is pricey, but is actually also somewhat reasonable when you do the math), some cinephiles may like a handful of these films and they may be better off not taking the risk to find out if the rest of the catalogue will speak their language.
Overall, I do love this release, what it represents, and what it can offer for those who such a box set makes perfect sense to. In the day and age where buying physical is more necessary than ever in the twenty first century, CC40 is a reclamation of cinephilia for those who may have sold their collections away, a stance in the face of streaming services which continue to dishonour the millions of subscribers who get yanked along month after month, and a reminder of what passion and purpose look like in an industry that is getting clipped at the knees by business, tech, and hedge-fund-minded people who prioritize profit over art. Despite the industry foolishness of late, film will never die. I was hypothesizing who the audience was earlier, but perhaps Criterion wasn’t thinking of a target market more than it was conceptualizing a scenario where film reigned supreme again. Even just looking at CC40, that hypothesis comes true for a moment; for those who are able to buy and enjoy CC40, the celebration of cinema will never end (fortunately, it doesn’t have to end for those who can’t afford or don’t want this box set, either).
Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.