Weekly DVD/Video Picks

National Geographic: Inside the Vatican (2002)

When a papal conclave has chosen the next pope, he retreats to a room in the Sistine Chapel called the “Room of Tears.” Here the papal white awaits him. The Room of Tears, and the conclave process, are among the tour stops in this video. Respectful and often fascinating, Inside the Vatican offers a unique behind-the-scenes look at the life, history and inner workings of Vatican City. Vignettes include the ordination of a bishop, the restoration of a priceless tapestry, the swearing-in of a Swiss Guard soldier, reception of world leaders and a race to digitally preserve disintegrating documents.

Inside the Vatican touches on the origins of the papacy in Jesus’ call of Peter and the 20th-century discovery of Peter’s grave and bones. Episodes in papal history, glorious and otherwise, are discussed, from Leo X’s financial mismanagement to John Paul II’s role in the downfall of the Soviet Union. Glimpses of John Paul II’s pastoral spirit and compassion can be seen in footage of a visit to a leper colony and in an interview with the Holy Father’s personal photographer, who explains that he considers it a sacred duty never to take even one bad picture of the Holy Father.

Content advisory: A fleeting journalistic reference to criticism of the Pope’s “conservatism” and a brief discussion of Galileo that needs context.

The Miracle Worker (1962)

The astonishing story of Annie Sullivan’s dogged efforts to break the isolation of Helen Keller’s sightless and soundless world is brought stunningly to life in The Miracle Worker. Originally a Broadway play written by William Gibson, directed by Arthur Penn and starring Anne Bancroft and Patty Duke, the story was brought to the screen by the same creative team, with Gibson adapting his own stage play and Penn again directing Bancroft and Duke in Oscar-winning turns. 

Duke, 16, is like a feral animal as Helen, unnervingly oblivious, snatching food from other people’s plates and lashing out at unwanted interference with abandon. Bancroft brings iron conviction and a total dearth of sentimentality to Sullivan, a tough-minded, nearly blind Boston Catholic whose Yankee directness both unsettles and offers hope to her genteel Southern Protestant hosts. “It has a name,” Sullivan says again and again, signing nouns under Helen’s fingers as she tries to get her to link sign patterns with physical objects. And the grueling eight-minute dining-room battle will have parents of willful children on the edge of their seats. The cathartic final scene is nothing short of transcendent.

Content advisory: Harrowing physical confrontations between Helen and Annie; disturbing verbal account of subhuman living conditions. Still fine family viewing.

The Three Musketeers (1921)

Douglas Fairbanks’s first major silent costume swashbuckler exuberantly embraces the melodramatic absurdities of Alexandre Dumas’s universe, with valiant heroes and scheming villains risking all to capture a diamond brooch — foolishly given by the Queen to an indiscreet admirer — all for the purpose of either embarrassing or saving the honor of the queen, thereby pushing her weak-minded King this way or that in the power struggle between the Queen’s allies and the villainous Cardinal Richelieu.

Yes, it’s really as convoluted as all that. But Fairbanks is in top form, leaping and dueling as the young D’Artangnan. The film takes more than a half hour to introduce its large cast of characters and set up its intrigues and alliances, but after that it’s gung-ho derring-do all the way.

Content advisory: Swashbuckling violence; a negative clerical depiction; romantic complications.