Criterion’s price tags can make you wonder if they’re selling gold-plated celluloid, but when it comes to restoration and extras, they usually deliver the goods. I’ve been collecting since the laserdisc days of ’89—over 320 titles, each one proof that obsessing over film nerd stuff is a life choice. Take In the Heat of the Night and Some Like It Hot—two classics Criterion treats like royalty, with restorations so sharp they’d make the filmmakers do a double take. But don’t let the pretty 4K pictures fool you; we’re here to see if these editions have the guts to back up the hype or just fancy packaging for your shelf.
Some of you have written to ask if investing in these 4K restorations actually makes sense—like, isn’t streaming “good enough”? Sure, if you also think eating instant noodles counts as fine dining. The hard truth? Streaming gives you the diet version of these classics—compressed, stripped down, and missing the heart. Criterion doesn’t just clean up the image; they restore the soul. You’re not just watching a movie—you’re getting context, history, and bonus material that actually respects your intelligence.
They also dig deep for the weird, the wonderful, and the long-forgotten—films by directors like Kurosawa, Wilder, and Wes Anderson that the algorithm wouldn’t recognize if it smacked it in the face with a vintage clapboard. So no, streaming’s not “good enough”—not if you actually care what’s on the screen.
In the Heat of the Night Remains a Landmark in American Cinema and Civil Rights Storytelling
In the Heat of the Night isn’t just a classic—it’s a hard look at race, justice, and authority in America during one of the country’s most volatile eras. When Virgil Tibbs (Sidney Poitier), a Black detective from Philadelphia, gets pulled into a murder investigation in small-town Mississippi, he’s met with open hostility from the local police, including Chief Gillespie (Rod Steiger), and the town’s deeply entrenched racism. What unfolds is more than just a whodunit—it’s a collision between dignity and ignorance, law and prejudice.
Norman Jewison doesn’t pull punches here. With Haskell Wexler’s sharp cinematography capturing the tension in every corner, and Quincy Jones delivering a score that’s as unpredictable as the storyline, the film balances social commentary with real suspense. Poitier and Steiger deliver career-defining performances—one a model of quiet authority, the other a study in conflicted transformation.
This isn’t nostalgia. It’s a mirror. Released in 1967, at the height of the civil rights movement, In the Heat of the Night won five Academy Awards—including Best Picture—because it dared to tell the truth at a time when Hollywood mostly looked the other way. Over 50 years later, it still hits hard.
In the Heat of the Night paved the way for an entire genre of socially conscious crime dramas—from Mississippi Burningto L.A. Confidential and even Crash. It showed that you could confront racism head-on without turning the film into a lecture or diluting the characters into symbols. What’s refreshing—even now—is that it never falls into the trap of modern “anti-racism” storytelling that often feels like checkbox filmmaking.
It doesn’t preach. It doesn’t posture. It shows the ugliness of racism in real terms, not hashtags. In a media environment where every other script feels like it’s written by an HR department trying to win a virtue-signaling contest, In the Heat of the Night reminds us that true injustice deserves more than platitudes. Real racism, real hate crimes—whether against African-Americans, Jews, Asians, or members of the LGBT communities—deserve to be portrayed with honesty and weight, not reduced to content filler for a corporate diversity reel.
What’s Inside the Criterion 4K UHD Edition of In the Heat of the Night
This isn’t a CGI-laden blockbuster begging for Atmos speakers and popcorn. In the Heat of the Night is a taut, brilliantly written look at American racism in its rawest form—set in the Deep South and released in 1967, when the country was still burning with civil rights unrest. What Criterion has done here is nothing short of restoration as historical preservation. This 4K UHD edition delivers the definitive version of the film—visually and sonically.
The 4K digital restoration is stunning. Grain is intact but finely managed, the image now cleaner and far more detailed than any previous Blu-ray release. Blacks are darker, not crushed, and contrast levels make Wexler’s cinematography pop without ever feeling artificial. This isn’t some hyper-saturated Marvel color grade—it’s true to the period, true to the film, and for once, skin tones across the racial spectrum actually look right. The color palette feels more natural, more grounded—like you’re finally watching the film the way it was meant to be seen in 1967, not filtered through decades of subpar transfers and faded prints.
Audio gets an upgrade too. You can go with the original uncompressed monaural track for an authentic experience, or switch to the DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 surround mix, which opens up Quincy Jones’s score in a way that’s both respectful and dynamic. Yes, the title track is still a killer—Ray Charles delivers it with fire—and now it hits harder than ever.
Then there’s the bonus content, and it’s deep. You get new and archival interviews with director Norman Jewison, actor Lee Grant, and a segment from a 2006 AFI interview with Sidney Poitier—one of the most powerful voices in American cinema history. The commentary track brings Jewison, Grant, Rod Steiger, and Haskell Wexler into the room with you. It’s like sitting in on film school, only no one’s trying to sell you a course for $499 afterward.
The disc also includes Turning Up the Heat, a comprehensive look at the production and cultural legacy of the film, with input from John Singleton and Reginald Hudlin. There’s even a deep dive into Quincy Jones’s groundbreaking score in Breaking New Sound, featuring Herbie Hancock and the Bergmans, which feels like a mini-doc all its own.
Add the original trailer, subtitles, and a smart, contextual essay by critic K. Austin Collins, and you’ve got a package that puts most modern releases to shame.
This is how you teach history. Not through TikTok explainers, not through performative DEI workshops—through real stories, grounded in real struggle, told by people who lived it or dared to confront it on screen. Show this to your kids. Let them hear Sidney Poitier say, “They call me Mr. Tibbs.” Let them see how a film can cut deeper than a hashtag. Criterion didn’t just restore In the Heat of the Night—they reminded us why it still matters.
Where to buy: $49.95 at Amazon
Some Like It Hot 4K UHD: Cross-Dressing, Crime, and Comedy Done Right
You can keep your algorithm-approved Netflix comedies—Some Like It Hot is still funnier, sharper, and ten times sexier than anything cooked up in a modern writing room full of sensitivity readers. Billy Wilder’s 1959 masterpiece hasn’t aged—it’s just been waiting for the rest of us to catch up. And with Criterion’s new 4K UHD edition, it looks better than ever.
Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon are in full scene-stealing form as Joe and Jerry, two struggling Chicago musicians who witness a mob hit and go full drag to escape town—only to end up in an all-female band headed to Miami. Marilyn Monroe’s Sugar Kane burns brighter than a Florida sunbeam, and Curtis turns in one of the all-time great comedy con jobs by pretending to be a Cary Grant-esque millionaire to win her over. Meanwhile, Lemmon’s “Daphne” gets engaged to a lecherous millionaire and leans into the role with chaotic, jazz-drunk glee.
4K So Sharp, It Could Shave Tony Curtis’s Legs
If ever a comedy deserved the royal treatment, it’s Some Like It Hot. Billy Wilder’s gender-bending, mob-dodging, horn-heavy farce hasn’t just aged well—it’s aged like Monroe in a spotlight: hot, a little tragic, but still commanding the room. Criterion’s 4K UHD + Blu-ray edition doesn’t just clean up the visuals—it restores the film’s manic brilliance with the kind of polish that makes most modern comedies look like they were shot through a ring light and a diversity committee.
First off, the 4K digital restoration (with Dolby Vision HDR) brings Charles Lang’s black-and-white cinematography to new life. Contrast is vastly improved—blacks are deeper, whites are less blown-out, and the details are crisp enough to count the beads of sweat on Joe E. Brown’s forehead. You’ll see textures in Orry-Kelly’s costumes you’ve never noticed before—lace, sequins, pinstripes—and yes, Curtis and Lemmon are still doing their best to act through the pantyhose.
The original uncompressed monaural track sounds cleaner than ever, but for those who like a little more spatial play, the DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 mix adds just the right amount of air without ruining the vintage charm. Monroe’s breathy vocals and Lemmon’s squeaky “Daphne” both come through with the clarity they deserve—proof that the performances were pitch-perfect, not just gimmicky.
And then there’s the Criterion content buffet, stacked with enough extras to make a film professor weep and a Billy Wilder fan cackle. The 1989 audio commentary by film scholar Howard Suber delivers genuine insight without slipping into academic coma territory.
A feature on Orry-Kelly’s costumes reminds us that drag isn’t exactly a new concept—it just used to come with better tailoring. Wilder’s appearances on The Dick Cavett Show (1982) are packed with the kind of withering intelligence and barbed charm that no one dares unleash on late-night anymore.
A 2001 conversation between Tony Curtis and Leonard Maltin is equal parts reverent and slightly unhinged—because Curtis never not performed. You also get a 1988 French TV interview with Jack Lemmon (mercifully beret-free), a 1955 radio spot featuring Monroe in full breathy mode, three behind-the-scenes documentaries, the original trailer, and an essay by Sam Wasson that—unlike most academic insertions—is actually worth reading.
All told, this is how a comedy classic should be treated: with brains, beauty, and just enough bad behavior. Criterion’s 4K restoration proves that Some Like It Hot wasn’t just ahead of its time—it’s still ahead of ours. It’s a film that plays with gender and identity better than any contemporary Oscar-bait drama, but does it with a martini in one hand and a wink in the other.
Let your kids stream whatever sanitized rom-com they want—but if you want to show them real comedy, real stars, and real craftsmanship, cue this up and tell them to take notes.
Where to buy: $49.95 at Amazon
Related Reading:
