In one sense, we’re getting to the end of the line on new DVD releases. Perhaps Blu-ray will take over, who knows what will happen in the scheme of things, but there’s a weird sense of what’s coming out is even less Best Buy friendly than, say, Saturday Night Fever. But if you love movies, my god, what we’ve been getting has been nothing less than revelatory. And so it is that two films from Michael Powell have come out on DVD, one a masterpiece, another a very interesting final film.

A Matter of Life and Death (aka Stairway to Heaven, 1946) is a classic heartwarming effort from Powell and Emeric Pressburger, his cinematic partner of choice, to which the two created a great number of masterpieces. Like a lot of great films it was considered abandoned for quite some time, but now has a passionate following in a number of film people, as Powell and Pressburger are the ultimate filmmaker’s filmmakers.

David Niven plays Peter Carter, a poet and RAF flyer who has a conversation with a air traffic controller June (Kim Hunter) as his plane is flaming out. His parachute is shot up, and it appears he’s about to die, so he asks June if he can love her, so at least he can off with that. But then, he wakes up on the beach, alive. How he survived is anyone’s guess, but he finds June and the two fall madly in love. Well it turns out heaven screwed up, and Conductor 71 (Marcus Goring) must recover the man. But when he comes down Peter argues that he cannot be taken as he is now in love, and to kill him now would be an act of cruelty, and perhaps violate some time space rules too or some such thing. As such, he asks for a trial, all the while on earth he’s working with Dr. Frank Reeves (Roger Livesey) who he tells about h his moments with the Conductor. Reeves is not entirely convinced, but not unconvinced, but when he has a fatal accident, he becomes Peter’s lawyer in heaven.

Though it shares some similarities to Here Comes Mr. Jordan, what Powell and Pressburger do is engaging, moving and beautiful. The earth sections are shot in three strip Technicolor, while heaven is in black and white, and the fight for love, and that belief, and the idea of a doomed soldier earning his reprieve is powerful stuff. It works like gangbusters, and the craftsmanship is of the highest order. These guys knew how to make movies, and if you’ve always been intimidated by their Criterion output, this might be the best starter film.

The film comes in full frame and in 2.0 mono. Extras include an insightful commentary by Ian Christie, and an introduction by Martin Scorsese (8 min.).

1969’s Age of Consent is not one of Powell’s best films, in the sense that the man made many a masterpiece, and this is a smaller film that has charms but is not what one might call top shelf. It was also his last film, and one that saw him trafficking in sexual content, something unimaginable even in 1960, when he did Peeping Tom.

James Mason plays Bradley Morahan, an artist who leaves England for Australia to get some peace and quiet. He moves to a fantastic location and begins a relationship with Cora (Helen Mirren), whom he first only buys seafood from, but then moves to using her as his muse, as he paints numerous pictures of her.

Cora’s life is ruled and ruined by Ma Ryan (Neva Carr-Glynn), a drunken old lady who steals whatever money Cora makes to buy Rye. Cora dreams of leaving, and has been hiding money for that very pursuit. But she grows into being Bradley’s model, even with Bradley’s interloping friend Nat (Jack McGowran) showing up and making a general nuisance of himself.

Shot mostly outdoors, the film sotck here is not of the caliber of Powell’s earlier films, and the transfer here gives it a feel of the late sixties, where his Technicolor and black and white efforts feel timeless in comparison. It is very much a period piece, and the mores also allow for an ample amount of nudity, mostly offered from the 24-year-old Mirren. Much has been written about Mirren’s sexuality of late, and it’s fair to say it’s less unsightly to sexually objectify a woman in her sixties than her twenties, but the buxom and slightly feral Cora belongs naked, as she is a proud goddess of the sea in Powell’s vision. And if his last film leaves any gifts, it’s the complete freedom, and powerful sexuality that Mirren’s innocent is able to project. It’s her movie, though Mason is one of cinema’s greatest icons, and seeing him in a relaxed role as a painter is also a delight. The tropical location makes the film feel lush and lived in, and sensual, but relaxed to the point of being minor. It’s still engaging, though, and well worth it.

The film comes in anamorphic widescreen (1.78:1) and in 2.0 mono. Extras include a great commentary by Kent Jones, an introduction by Martin Scorsese (5 min.), a making of (17 min.), a conversation with Helen Mirren about the role (12 min.) and an interview with underwater photographers Ron and Valerie Taylor (10 min.). Though the year has just begun, this title will more than likely show up on a number of best of year-end lists.