In Making Movies, Sidney Lumet counted Daniel among the best films he ever directed. Almost nobody saw it. The 1983 drama reportedly earned less than $700,000, which makes it a perfect representative for this second Imprint collection. Volume One had Serpico and The Offence. Volume Two gathers five later titles that mostly lived outside Lumet’s highlight reel, either because critics dismissed them, audiences ignored them, or both.

The Wiz (1978), Lumet’s only musical, is the obvious headliner. Diana Ross (Lady Sings the Blues) plays Dorothy as a shy kindergarten teacher whose trip through Oz is rebuilt from New York landmarks, from the New York State Pavilion in Queens to a World Trade Center Emerald City. Critics attacked Ross’s casting and Lumet’s handling of the material, and the film lost millions, while Michael Jackson’s Scarecrow was one of the few elements that received broad praise at the time. Its reputation has changed substantially over the years, particularly among Black audiences who embraced it long before critical reassessments caught up. Leave it to Lumet to pave the yellow brick road through Queens. I grew up on this film and have the recent Criterion release, but I still was happy to have another copy of it in this set.

Daniel (1983) is the heavyweight of the set. E. L. Doctorow adapted his own Rosenberg-inspired novel, The Book of Daniel, after the project reportedly struggled for years to find backing. Timothy Hutton (Ordinary People) plays Daniel Isaacson, a graduate student in the 1960s protest era who keeps circling back to the execution of his parents (Mandy Patinkin and Lindsay Crouse) as Soviet spies. It is demanding, melancholy material, but the fact that Lumet himself singled it out gives the film a different weight from the rest of this box.

A Stranger Among Us (1992) sends NYPD detective Emily Eden (Melanie Griffith, Working Girl) undercover in a Hasidic community while investigating a murder. The film competed at Cannes but took a beating from critics, and Griffith’s performance earned a Razzie. Lumet reportedly noticed Eric Thal while he was auditioning for a smaller role and promoted him to the male lead, while James Gandolfini turns up in his first credited film performance. The movie is a curiosity more than a rediscovered triumph, but curiosities are exactly what boxes like this are built to preserve. I’ve always had a fondness for this film. It’s an intriguing mystery, and Griffith is far better than the reviews indicated.

Critical Care (1997) is the sleeper. James Spader (Stargate) plays resident Werner Ernst, caught between two half-sisters fighting over the care of their comatose father while hospital administrators keep one eye on the patient’s insurance. Albert Brooks gets some of the sharpest material as a doctor whose cynicism has become a survival skill. The movie barely received a theatrical life, but a satire about money deciding who receives medical care has not exactly become less relevant.

Gloria (1999) closes the collection with Lumet remaking John Cassavetes’ 1980 film after stepping in for Scott Kalvert. Sharon Stone (Casino) plays the ex-con who emerges from prison after taking the fall for her boyfriend and ends up protecting a young boy from the mob. Critics were rough, the film lost money, and it became George C. Scott’s final feature appearance. Even so, it is a useful endpoint for a collection interested less in Lumet’s greatest hits than in the corners of his career people stopped talking about.

That is the value of this set. It does not make a case that these five movies secretly belong beside Dog Day Afternoon or Network. It makes a case that the less celebrated work deserves to stay available, too. Volume One had the hits. Volume Two is where completists earn the name.