People get forgotten for unforeseen reasons. Raymond Bernard was the star director of a fledgling French blockbuster industry that was smothered by shifting national circumstances. Criterion’s fourth edition of its Eclipse series, dedicated to the director, is a revealing glimpse at his aborted career and his curiously overlooked talent for precisely attuned epics, incorporating a wide variety of artistic and technological developments into populist narrative filmmaking. The uncertain economics of inter-war France couldn’t sustain Bernard’s large-scale films. As budgets were slashed small-scale poetic realism became more popular, a style he in some ways anticipated. But the die was cast and for decades after France’s film industry was largely defined economically and temperamentally by the modest and more personal. Bernard continued to work, but like his idol Griffith, his status was diminished, an observer on the sidelines of an industry that he helped create. Though his fate was undeserved we can at least take pleasure in these testaments to his faint prominence.

—Michael Buening

James Bond was the very image of British postwar cool and indeed the Bond stories were something of an assertion of confidence and the importance of Britain in the world at large following the dissolution of Empire. That would have meant nothing though without the suave leading men and cutting-edge gadgets that drove the film series’ popularity. Now Bond fans have a reason to rejoice. You can now have every single Bond movie ever made—including the recent Casino Royale—complete with a wealth of extras detailing every last element of the Bond universe, in one big box. Each film is restored and burns up the screen as never before. Perfect for indulging in all those Connery vs. Moore arguments.

—Sarah Zupko

Three months before Otis Redding took Monterey Pop by storm, he and his buddies conquered Europe. Stax Records mounted its first European tour in the spring of ’67, and instantly created a passionate fanbase. Some of the earlier dates on the tour were released as live albums, but this April concert was taped for Norwegian TV, then sat in a vault for years. The black-and-white video is a joy to watch; the TV crew’s shot selection rotates nicely from artist close-up to audience reaction. But it is the performances that will ultimately amaze. The energy gets kicked up with Arthur Conley’s hot showmanship, sails through part of an Eddie Floyd song, and goes through the roof after a Sam and Dave set. Then Otis Redding comes on, and it appears neither the TV screen nor the stage nor his body can contain the joy he brings to every note.

—Mark Reynolds

Comprising seven of the best documentaries ever crafted for the small (and later, big) screen, The Up Series is a monumental achievement in cinema and DVD. It is hard to describe in plain and simple terms the impact and the power that these films really have. From their time in a bottle barometers of popular styles and changing social philosophies to the remarkable insight one gains in how people develop and adapt, each and every installment in this landmark undertaking deserves praise and reward. Though it’s hard to imagine how the chronicle of a dozen or more kids from childhood to adulthood could resonate with such colossal themes and universal platitudes, The Up Series is indeed such an exalted exhibition. But it is also much more. It is riveting human theater, the drama of lives fulfilled and dreams dashed, played out over the ambitious possibility of time and space.

—Bill Gibron

The only thing possibly more fascinating than each and every gorgeous, vivid, mind-bogling episode of this award-winning BBC series is the “making of” short that followings each episode. Even the most casual viewer will lose herself in the beauty, violence, and fragility of this planet as conveyed in these stories of life on Earth in places where few humans can or should go. At some point she’ll realize that a few brave and talented humans did go to such places, and went to considerable effort to bring these stories to her TV set. An obvious choice for nature lovers, this exceptional series will also appeal to visual artists, armchair adventurists, and anybody who likes well-told stories of epic scale. (Available for $59.95 at Discovery Channel store)

—Karen Zarker

The official visual documentation of the recent Springsteen world tour arrives just in time in the “American Land” like an injection of bottled euphoria after a deadly struggle with depression. A pot of coffee after a hang over, a smile from a pretty woman, a white flag rising from the air after a gut-shredding battle, dawn after dusk—Springsteen and his talented band blast through the wreckage of a war-weary nation, hurricane disaster zone, and de-industrialized poverty and crime-stricken wasteland that is still called the United States.

—David Masciotra