GRAND PRIX: Blu-ray (MGM 1966) Warner Home Video

In 1966, director John Frankenheimer debuted one of the most exhilarating and immersive 70mm film experiences in modern screen history. In many ways, the film Grand Prix (1966) was a departure. To be certain, films about racing and its unsung heroes were nothing new. Yet, if race cars appeared at all on the big screen until then they had been mere backdrop – a stylish and gleaming prop photographed against rear projection with little regard to capture the reality of the racing experience on film. With a desire to put the audience in the driver's seat, Frankenheimer's authenticity marked the true spirit of the race.

At the start of Grand Prix – the movie, Frankenheimer fills the screen with the reality of competition. He uses legitimate shots of crowds and actual F-1 drivers, mechanics and pit crew preparing for the 1966 Monte Carlo race. At once, the genius and mystery behind his storytelling is established. As an audience, we are pressed to question; Is this a movie or is this reality?

Actor Steve McQueen had always been Frankenheimer’s first choice for the part of American driver, Pete Aaron. Initially, McQueen expressed interest. Unfortunately, for Frankenheimer – he sent assistant Eddie Lewis in his stead to iron out contractual negotiations. Reportedly, McQueen took an instant dislike to Lewis, thereafter dropping out of the project. The part of Pete Aaron went to James Garner instead. Garner always felt he had been foisted on Frankenheimer by the studio. Although director and star eventually fell into a syncopated rhythm of working styles, Garner would later muse that Frankenheimer ran roughshod over most of the cast.

The rest of Grand Prix’s roster is rounded out by an international cast; including French matinee idol Yves Montand (as introspective driver and ladies man Jean-Pierre Sarti), Japan’s Toshiro Mifune (as automotive designer Izo Yamura), England’s Brian Bedford (Scott Stoddard), Italy’s Antonio Sabato (ego driven, Nino Barlini) and American Eva Marie Saint (fashion writer, Louise Frederickson).

Except for James Garner, principle cast were remanded to the care of Jim Russell’s racing school for an intense three week training session on how to master the hairpin turns of each course in the Grand Prix circuit. Frankenheimer absolutely refused to use doubles during the racing sequences. Eventually, he was reluctantly ‘convinced’ by Russell to use a double for Brian Bedford. The actor could not learn to shift gears. As for Garner; he was assigned F-1 champion Bob Bondurant as his driving instructor. The two spent a month at Willow Springs, at the end of which Bondurant gave a glowing review of his student’s capabilities.

Robert Alan Arthur's screenplay for Grand Prix weaves a mostly threadbare fictional narrative between Frankenheimer's peerless racing footage. The plot, such as it is, revolves around a rivalry between American F-1 racer Pete Aaron (James Gardner) and his partner Scott Stoddard (Brian Bedford). Pete races for the love and thrill of it. But his split second ill-timed decision to allow Scott to pass him during the Del Monaco race results in a near fatal accident. Upon his recovery Stoddard, an introspective and insecure Englishman living in the shadow of his dead brother, teeters on the verge of mental collapse. He suffers from night sweats while his marriage to sultry American model, Pat (Jessica Walter) crumbles.

After the accident, racing manager and notorious sponge - Jeff Jordon (Jack Watson) dumps Pete from his roster – erroneously sighting Pete's incompetence as the culprit for Scott's accident. In reality, Jordon is backing Scott because his family has the funds to keep him solvent.

Meanwhile, Pete approaches the head of the Ferrari Company, Agostini Manetta (Adolfo Celli) for sponsorship, but to no avail. Instead, he is relegated to the press corp. But a reprieve of sorts comes from Japanese manufacturer, Izo Yamura (Toshiro Mifune) whose deep admiration provides Pete a new opportunity to ride.

Meanwhile, French racer and champion Jean-Pierre Sarti (Yves Montand) is contemplating an extra-marital affair with American fashion magazine editor, Louise Frederickson (Eva Marie Saint) – a miscalculation that will end in tragedy. Finally, there’s Italian racer Nino Barlini (Antonio Sabato…yes, the father of Antonio Sabato Jr.) whose characterization of the suave Lothario is very much an overplayed stereotype boiling over into cliché.

The beauty or perhaps the curse of the Grand Prix circuit is that no two courses are alike, presenting Frankenheimer and his crew with a set of unique and occasionally dangerous challenges that leant an air of verisimilitude to the production. In one scene Garner’s racer had been rigged with butane to catch fire . However, as the car came to a halt, an unexpected breeze fanned the flames into a fireball that engulfed the actor. He barely escaped with minor injuries.

Composer Maurice Jarre interpolates the racing sequences with an eclectic score of rousing marches and poignant love ballads; an almost fairy-tale ballet for automobiles. Sound effects editor, Gordon Daniels evokes the raging engines and more subtle nuances off track for a visceral sonic experience.

While many racing purists criticized and even denounced Grand Prix as sensationalizing the dangers of Formula-1 racing, the truth of the matter is that Frankenheimer had meticulously researched F-1’s history before making the film. As though to prove Frankenheimer's point, on April 7, 1968, F-1 racing lost one of its most enigmatic personalities, Jim Clark in a horrific accident that very much mimics the one that kills Yves Montands in the film.

It is Frankenheimer's commitment to every last detail, his really getting down to the nuts and bolts of F-1 racing, that stamps Grand Prix with a hallmark of authenticity unlike any other racing film before or since. Years later, Frankenheimer would reflect, “When I look back I don’t know how the hell we ever did that film!” Fifty one years later, racing enthusiasts and film fans alike remain eternally grateful to Frankenheimer that he dared to try. Gentlemen…start your engines.

Warner Home Video’s Blu-ray of Grand Prix has finally arrived. I say, finally, because at the dawn of the Blu-ray vs. HD format war Grand Prix was one of the first films to emerge from Warner in the HD format, hence it should have been one of the first on Blu-ray too. Whatever the reason, Grand Prix never materialized on Blu until now. Fans of this film have waited a long time. The wait has arguably been worth it. Grand Prix looks fabulous on Blu-ray.

One aspect of the film that ought to be addressed before continuing is that there seems to be some confusion over format. The opening title sequence advertises the film as “in Cinerama” (presumably the single camera derivative that took over from the abandoned 3 camera set up). Yet, just a few credits later the film is advertised as being photographed in Super Panavision 70. These two processes are irreconcilable. Whatever the case, the image is wide. On widescreen televisions the aspect ratio mimics that of a movie shot in Todd A-O. Grand Prix has decidedly NOT been photographed in Todd A-O. But I digress.

On Blu-ray Grand Prix roars to life with colors that are rich and vibrant. This is to be expected since the original camera negative whether Cinerama or Super Panavision has a lot to offer hi-def and vice versa. Colours, particularly reds and greens really pop. Flesh tones look natural. Occasionally, interior scenes can look just a tad washed out or, shall we say, less vibrant than exterior photography. Fine details are evident throughout. Age related artefacts are non-existent for a very smooth and engaging visual presentation.

The audio is 5.1 Dolby Digital. At the time of its release, Grand Prix’s sound mix was considered state of the art. Today, there is much to admire in the multiple overlays of effects layered to suggest a total race immersion experience. Despite these advances, dialogue never sounds entirely natural. The Blu-ray's DTS mix accurately captures the dated characteristics of this soundtrack.

Extras include ‘making-of’ featurettes that are engrossing with interviews from real racers and film stars alike as well as several other informative featurettes on the racing culture of Formula 1. There's also the film’s original theatrical trailer. All of these extras were included on Warner's 2 disc DVD offering from some years ago. Nevertheless, Grand Prix in 1080p comes highly recommended!

FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)

4

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

3.5

THE GREAT DICTATOR: Blu-ray (UA 1940) Criterion Home Video

In retrospect, Charlie Chaplin's The Great Dictator (1940) plays as inspired anti-war comedy and an utterly wicked satire of Adolph Hitler. True enough, the film fits that bill. Yet, to simply view the movie as such is to discount the bravery of its creator. Only Chaplin, it seems, had the audacity of genius to challenge the status quo.

By 1940 Hitler was well on his way to achieving his fantasy of world domination with the powers that be around the world still in complete denial of his brutality. In Hollywood, there was a general ignorance that another World War had begun to brew. Instead, the dream factories chose to concentrate on the fantastical make believe that had seen their profits soar throughout the 1930s.

It was a mistake of blind-sightedness but one that the movie moguls - most of them of Jewish descent - hoped would continue to appease Hitler enough to allow them to continue distributing their product to the foreign market. Hitler was, in fact, a huge movie buff who enjoyed a steady diet of American films. What he liked he passed on for general distribution. What he found subversive was quickly condemned and occasionally even re-edited by Hollywood studios in yet another attempt to pacify the Nazi leader.

But with The Great Dictator, Charlie Chaplin's little tramp took dead aim at the tyrannical forces of the Third Reich. It's as though Chaplin is looking Hitler straight in the eye shouting, "Hitler, Schmit-ler. You're a crazy man but I defy you through the power of laughter."

Chaplin, who had never spoken in films before or even considered sound necessary, chose The Great Dictator as his first 'talking' movie. Clearly, the genius had something relevant to say. The strength of Chaplin's convictions cannot be overstated. In fact, when he announced that The Great Dictator would be his next project the creative trusts at the other studios quietly banned to encourage Chaplin to abandoned the project.

After all, the film would undoubtedly receive a negative review from the Nazi leader. But even more disturbing to the moguls was the prospect that Hitler might view Chaplin's film as evoking Hollywood's collective sentiment and this would impact their own ability to do future business overseas. Undaunted, Chaplin received the biggest plug of his career when U.S. President Franklin Roosevelt not only encouraged him to make the movie but also guaranteed its distribution.

The script, by Chaplin, is another tour de force. The film begins in earnest with an unnamed Jewish barber (Chaplin) blundering through the front lines of World War I. The barber rescues an officer, Commander Schultz (Reginald Gardiner) who is carrying important documents that may turn the tide of war and save their country of Tomania from falling into a dictatorship. Regrettably, the plane carrying Schultz and the barber loses altitude and crashes. Although both men survive the wreckage their country is lost.

Flash forward twenty years into the future. Tomania has become a totalitarian state under the autocratic leadership of Adenoid Hynkel (Chaplin also) whose political agenda is for an anti-Jewish Arian nation. Minister of Interior, Garbitsch (Henry Daniel) and Minister of War, Herring (Billy Gilbert) are the right and left hands of the administration; the former a crafty and manipulative warmonger, the latter a grossly incompetent fop simply along for the ride.

Suffering from amnesia, the barber returns to his trade only to learn that Hynkel's storm troopers have condemned the shop for being owned by a Jew. After a scuffle with the storm troopers, the barber is rescued by another exile, Hannah (Paulette Goddard) who strikes Hynkel's henchmen on the head with her fry pan. Captured by Commander Schmidt, who is now a high ranking official in Hynkel's government, Hannah and the barber are released from custody after Schmidt recognizes the barber as the man who once saved his life.

Meanwhile, Hynkel invites neighbouring Italian dictator, Benzino Napaloni (Jack Oakie) to a demonstration of his military might. The exercise is a disaster and Hynkel quickly breaks the political pact he has formed with Napaloni in favour of pursuing his unilateral dream for world domination. It should be pointed out that this course of action is maniacally encouraged by Minister Garbitsch who has his eye on becoming dictator himself by presumably overthrowing Hynkel at some later date.

The film now enters its most inspired arena of comedy. Schultz, Hannah and the barber are sent to a concentration camp but escape when Schultz taps into the idea of using the barber to impersonate Hynkel. The rouse works on the camp guards and the trio are set free. Meanwhile, Hynkel is accidentally thrown overboard while on a duck hunting expedition. He is recovered from the drink but accused of being the barber attempting to impersonate Hynkel and is sent to one of his own camps. The barber, now dressed as Hynkel seizes the opportunity to liberate Tomania from its tyranny, addressing the people and Hannah directly from a podium during one of Hynkel's rallies.

"Hannah, can you hear me? Wherever you are, look up, Hannah. The clouds are lifting. The sun is breaking through. We are coming out of the darkness into the light. We are coming into a new world, a kindlier world, where men will rise above their hate, their greed and brutality. Look up, Hannah. The soul of man has been given wings, and at last he is beginning to fly. He is flying into the rainbow—into the light of hope, into the future, the glorious future that belongs to you, to me, and to all of us. Look up, Hannah. Look up".

In retrospect, time and history have regrettably proven the barber's speech too optimistic an epitaph for the realities of Adolph Hitler. Still, the potency of Chaplin's own plea to the world cannot be discounted. In many ways, the final speech in The Great Dictator plays like a call to arms for the Allied Forces. Certainly, the film illustrates with the most threadbare of masks that darkening malaise having begun to envelope central Europe. There is no mistaking the parody of either the names or situations depicted in the film as anything but a direct hit to Hitler's self-perceived supremacy on the world stage.

By 1940, Chaplin's popularity was in a class apart from the rest of Hollywood. Arguably, he was the number one star in the world. A decade earlier, Chaplin had been mobbed by ardent fans in Berlin, a display of adoration that infuriated the Nazi party and led directly to the publication of their propaganda, 'The Jews Are Looking At You'. Now, he was taking a more direct stab at the Nazi establishment , one that could not be ignored either for its sentiment or scathing parody.

Despite Chaplin's enviable autonomy in Hollywood, failure to find distribution for The Great Dictator would have meant financial ruin. Chaplin had invested $1.8 million of his own money to make it. Yet, in hindsight The Great Dictator came at a curious crux in the genius's career. Following its release and overwhelming critical and financial success, Chaplin would make only four more movies, each met by increasing unpopularity with audiences. By 1950, the McCarthy witch hunt labelled Chaplin a subversive Communist sympathizer. Exiled from the U.S. - except for a brief return to accept his life time achievement Oscar in 1972, Chaplin's reign as the undisputed comedic genius of the 20th century had come to a sudden end immediately following the release of The Great Dictator.

Criterion Home Video gives us another gorgeous 1080p transfer from the Chaplin archives and Mk2. Previously, they released a breathtaking Blu-ray of Modern Times. If anything, The Great Dictator looks even better than its predecessor on Blu-ray. The B&W image exhibits a superbly rendered gray scale. Blacks are deep and velvety. Whites are crisp though never blooming. Film grain appears as grain, not digital grit. The annoying aliasing and digital combing of an interlaced transfer that plagued the Warner release of the film on DVD in 2005 has been completely eradicated. Age related artefacts have been almost entirely removed. The image is smooth, clean and gorgeous. In keeping with Criterion's attention to authenticity, the film's soundtrack is presented in original mono, nicely cleaned up and very crisp sounding.

Extras include the hour long, 2001 TCM documentary that parallels Chaplin and Hilter's lives, a compelling audio commentary by Dan Kamin and Hooman Mehran, two extensive visual essays totalling 40 minutes, nearly a half hour of silent but thoroughly fascinating behind the scenes footage shot by Chaplin's brother Sidney in Technicolor, a sequence from the 1921 film King Queen Joker, a deleted sequence from another Chaplin precursor shot in 1919 and a 30 page collector's booklet by film critic Michael Wood. Good stuff all around. The Great Dictator on Blu-ray is a no brainer repurchase. It belongs on everyone's top shelf!

FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)

4.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

4

BEVERLY HILLS COP: Blu-ray (Paramount 1984) Paramount Home Video

Martin Brest's Beverly Hills Cop (1984) is a film very near and dear to this critic's heart. I was thirteen when I first saw it with a live audience. Almost immediately I was impressed with relative unknown stand up comic Eddie Murphy who seemed to be able to shoot barbs as quickly from his hip as he could shoot bullets from his holster.

Then and there I decided that Eddie Murphy's brand of comedic genius was tailor-made for the movies. The passage of time has not altered my snap assessment of his talents some thirty years later, although I will concede that Eddie's made some terrible movies since.

Now, 80s movies get a bad rap in general. Those who haven't seen enough of them will quickly point to the tacky hairdos and flamboyant fashion trends (padded shoulders, mesh tank tops, pastel Don Johnson suits that I must agree have heavily dated since), the materialism run amuck (lifestyles of the rich and famous here we come), the improbable feather-weight airiness of scripts and finally, to the whole laissez faire attitude toward 80s acting as over the top grandiose, transparent or just plain dull.

True enough, there's no shortage of 'bad' movies made throughout that decade, but then again, isn't that true of any decade in the history of cinema? And, I have no doubt that if either Sly Stallone or Mickey Rourke had accepted the challenge of playing Axel Foley (both were initially offered the role) that this film would be wedged in a bargain bin heap of forgotten whacky-tacky fluff. How refreshing then to discover that with Eddie Murphy in the driver's seat not only has Beverly Hills Cop not dated, it seems to have successfully avoided all of the aforementioned pitfalls.

The film opens in the slums of inner city Detroit. Undercover cop Axel Foley (Eddie Murphy) is attempting to bust a ring of smugglers by pretending to fence stolen cigarettes when the squad cars move in. One of the smugglers gets cold feet, steals the semi with the contraband and Axel barely clinging inside, and leads the cops on a harrowing chase through the back alleys.

The smugglers get away and Axel is left to face the wrath of his superior, Inspector Douglas Todd (Gilbert R. Hill) for this botched showdown. That evening Axel hooks up with his old pal, Mikey Tandino (James Russo), once a cop himself who left with their mutual friend, Jenny Summers (Lisa Eilbacher) to work for Victor Maitland (Steven Berkoff); a Los Angeles high roller. One problem: Mikey stole from Victor's private stash and it gets him murdered.

After narrowly escaping the same fate, Axel informs Todd that he is taking some time off for a presumed vacation. Todd warns Axel not to pursue Mikey's homicide but Axel makes his way to the city of Angels anyway. Almost immediately he is met by Victor's violent opposition and this plays Axel directly into the hands of the L.A.P.D.

Axel is investigated by Lt. Andrew Bogomil (Ronny Cox) and his two arresting officers, Billy Rosewood (Judge Reinhold) and Sgt. John Taggart (John Ashton). Although all three cops sympathize with Axel's predicament and vow to look into Mikey's murder they absolutely refuse to invest themselves in anything but procedural by-the-book investigative practises. Naturally, this conflicts with Axel's more intuitive powers of deduction.

Axel finds Jenny working as the curator in one of Victor's art galleries. As their friendship rekindles, Axel and Jenny begin to realize that Victor Maitland is involved in illegal narcotics smuggling. But Axel must prove this as a motive to kill Mikey while dodging Bogomil and sidling up to broker a truce with the inexperienced rookie, Billy and veteran hard ass Taggart.

Daniel Petrie's screenplay deserves the real credit here. In as much as Eddie Murphy proves himself to be master of the adlib on this project, it is Petrie's clever shaping and moulding of the buoyant buddy-buddy relationship developing between Axel, Taggart and Rosewood that really keeps the film's pace alive and electric.

Reportedly, director Martin Brest flipped a coin to decide whether or not he would do the film. After it became a smash hit, Brest had the quarter framed to hang on his wall as a good luck piece. In retrospect, Beverly Hills Cop seems to have had everything going for it. In reality, it might just as easily have been a disastrous flop.

The original script was written in 1977 as a more serious crime drama with action split between Pittsburgh and California. Jenny Summers was to have been Axel's lover and Mikey his brother. When Eddie Murphy became the lead major rewrites were in order - all of them in service to making the film an action/comedy.

This 'cut and paste' work done on the final draft was still incomplete when Brest started to roll his cameras. To fill in the gaps, the director relied heavily on Murphy's genius for improvisation to literally create dialogue and situations on the spot, many ultimately staying in the film and proving to be enduring highlights.

In the final analysis, everything clicked to produce the first megawatt hit in Eddie Murphy's film career. Both 48 Hours and Trading Places precede Beverly Hills Cop in Murphy's canon but neither came anywhere close to clinching the comedian's universal popularity with audiences. 30 years later, the film still holds up spectacularly well.

The same can be said for Paramount Home Video's new Blu-ray incarnation. After some opening credits that belie their 1080p mastering efforts with some wonky colour flickering, the image becomes razor sharp and nearly pristine. Colours burst forth with a robust integrity not seen anywhere since the film went to home video. Film grain is thicker during interior scenes (as expected for film stock of this vintage) but is in keeping with a very film like presentation. Blacks are deep and solid. Whites are clean, though never blooming. Contrast levels are bang on. Fine details are perfectly realized. This is a video presentation that will surely NOT disappoint.

The audio is advertised as a newly remastered DTS. Nevertheless, it remains very frontally focused as is probably in keeping with the original soundtrack elements. Early Dolby movie recordings really didn't do much with rear channel sound and this audio is no exception. Sorry, but my mind doesn't go back that far and even if it did, I was thirteen when I saw this movie in theatres. It sounded good to me then. It sounds even better now.

The highlight of the extras is a 29 minute 'making of' featurette. Martin Brest's audio commentary left me wanting, what with long pauses of silence and only the most superficial of recollections about the film. Featurettes on casting and underscoring the film are relevant but produced with excess concision. Together, they barely add up to 18 minutes. All of these extras, save the original theatrical trailer, are in standard definition.

Nevertheless, Beverly Hills Cop on Blu-ray is another must own catalogue title given its due on Blu-ray. The folks on the mountain ought to be proud of their enduring commitment to creating quality hi-def transfers of catalogue film titles. Show them they deserve more than honourable mention in this review. Buy this disc!

FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)

4

VIDEO/AUDIO

4

EXTRAS

3

THE COMANCHEROS (20th Century-Fox 1961) Fox Home Video

Glamorously mounted but rather nonsensical and episodic to a fault, Michael Curtiz's The Comancheros (1961) is a super western of the old school, a last gasp of the old establishment as the Hollywood of yesteryear reluctantly gave way to grittier, more contemporary realism. Curtiz, who was in ill health at the start of production, continued to decline and was forced to withdraw midway through, leaving his star, John Wayne the defacto director as well.

Based on Paul Wellman's best selling 1952 novel, the narrative patched together by screenwriters James Edward Grant and Clair Huffaker periodically waffles, perhaps because the hero of Wellman's novel was the character of Paul Regret and not Jake Cutter - the Marshal. Casting John Wayne in this latter role necessitated rewrites to flesh out his character at the expense of the former.

The tale begins in earnest in Louisiana, circa 1843 with Stuart Whitman as Paul Regret (a role originally envisioned by Wellman as belonging to Cary Grant). A wily gambler with a certain ruthlessness about him, Regret guns down Emil Bouvier (Gregg Palmer) during a gentlemen's duel.

The duel's overseer, Gireaux (Henry Daniell) informs Regret, owing to the fact that Bouvier was the son of a local magistrate, that the penalty of hanging for murder will likely be enforced. Instead, Regret flees the state, bringing about a country wide man hunt with a sizable bounty on his head.

Aboard a gambler's riverboat, Regret meets and is seduced by Pilar Graile (Ina Balin); a mysterious woman of means whose former lover, Esteban (Richard Devon) has been reduced to servant status. Curiously, after spending several pleasurable days with Regret in her private suite, Pilar vanishes without a trace.

Enter Jake Cutter (John Wayne), a U.S. Marshall who arrests Regret as the boat docks. Determined to bring Regret into custody, Cutter's plans are foiled when, after encountering an Indian massacre, Regret seizes the opportunity to knock Cutter unconscious and steal his horse. Returning empty handed to his outpost, Cutter is given a new assignment; to learn who has been selling guns to the 'Comancheros' - a ruthless sect of ranchers allied with the Indians and living obscurely by their own rules of lawlessness.

Under a distant escort from Texas Ranger Tobe (Patrick Wayne), Cutter buries his supply of guns for trade, then drives his empty wagon to a prearranged destination where he meets unrepentant and mildly psychotic rough rider, Tully Crow (Lee Marvin). Learning what he can from Crow, Cutter enters a game of poker at Crow's behest and is accidentally reunited with Regret who keeps the secret of Cutter's true identity from Crow.

After losing several hands of poker Crow becomes violent and Cutter is forced to kill him. Arresting Regret once again, Cutter takes him to the location where he has buried the guns and makes him dig up his stash. Cutter explains his mission to Regret who reluctantly goes along for the ride.

Recognizing that Regret's act of murder was a case of fair play rather than cold-bloodedness, Cutter takes him to the Marshall's office and pleads his case. Regret is made an honorary Marshall by Circuit Court Judge Thaddeus Breen (Edgar Buchanan), thereby absolving him of his crime.

Regrettably, from here on in, the plot becomes intriguingly convoluted. Regret accompanies Cutter on his mission to learn the whereabouts of the Comancheros. The pair are ambushed by Esteban, who recognizes Regret from the riverboat. Even after Cutter pretends that he and Regret have come on business to aid the Comancheros, he and Regret are strung up by their wrists on a narrow precipice, presumably to die in the sun.

They are saved from this fate by Pilar. As it turns out she is the daughter of the Comanchero's ringleader (Nehemiah Persoff). Pilar and Regret are reunited and Pilar's father affords Cutter and Regret every hospitality under Esteban's watchful eye. After a night of drunken revelry, Wayne and Regret stage a daring escape from the Comanchero's stronghold with Pilar in tow and her father bound and gagged.

The Comancheros make chase but Tobe has brought the U.S. Cavalry with him and the entire band of outlaws are apprehended. Cutter departs for his next mission, leaving Pilar and Regret to start their life together in the open wilderness of Mexico.

Composer Elmer Bernstein provides a memorable theme for the film that manages to capture the vast open spaces of the old west. More directly, it borrows heavily from his own underscoring for another super-western, The Magnificent Seven (1960).

As always, the best thing about the film is John Wayne who is memorable and engaging as Cutter. By this stage in his acting career, Wayne had matured to a place of being comfortable in his own skin. As the embodiment of the old west Wayne delights in the more flippant dialogue he's given throughout the narrative. To be sure, Wayne is bigger than life on screen, but also very relaxed and natural. His persona reaches beyond the screen and pulls the audience into the story - no small feat, given the shortcomings of the script.

Regrettably, the other principles in the cast do not live up to Wayne's high standard, particularly the very wooden Stuart Whitman and even more stiff Ina Balin. There is minor buddy/buddy chemistry at play between Wayne and Whitman but virtually zero romantic chemistry between Balin and Whitman, leaving the plausibility of the film's finale highly suspect.

The Grant/Huffaker screenplay makes its share of misfires - mostly during the latter half of the story when Pilar unexplainably pivots from Comanchero loyalist to Cavalry informant. In the course of two brief scenes she rats out her own father in favour of starting an uncertain relationship with a man she barely knows. None of this makes much sense even if one buys the fairytale course of true love. Nevertheless, the film as a whole clings together - awkwardly so at times, but for the most part without drawing too much unnecessary attention to its weaknesses.

Previously Fox Home Video made the The Comancheros available as part of their John Wayne: The Fox Westerns Collection on DVD. Now we get a deluxe Blu-ray offering that is infinitely more satisfying on almost every level, not the least of which are the Blu-ray's bounty of extras. More about those in a moment. The anamorphic widescreen image is quite sharp and pleasing. Colors on the Cinemascope DeLuxe print are surprisingly bold, especially when directly comparing them to the rather tepid tones on the DVD. Flesh tones look more natural on the Blu-ray. On the DVD they were just a tad too orange.

An softness to long and medium shots remains, but the image is infinitely more sharp and defined on Blu-ray than on DVD. Colour saturation is the biggest improvement. The audio is a 5.1 Dolby DTS. There's also a 4.0 Dolby track for purists of the original stereo masters. The DTS is often quite exhilarating - especially the Bernstein music cues that burst forth with a hearty and robust sonic palette. Dialogue is never natural sounding, too much front channel and rather strident. Still, this is a faithful reproduction of the original theatrical soundtrack.

Extras on the DVD were limited to a theatrical trailer. The Blu-ray provides a bounty of extras worthy of a re-purchase. We get an extensive 'making 0f' documentary that also critiques the real struggles to civilize the west. A two part documentary on Wayne's Fox tenure features extensive film clips from the likes of The Barbarian and the Geisha, Red River, North of Alaska and The Alamo - titles this critic hopes are in the works at Fox for a Blu-ray re-issue in the very near future.

There's also a well informed audio commentary to appreciate, a stills gallery, the original Comanchero's comic book digitized on 97 screen displays (the ending of the comic greatly varies from the film's ending, so it's definitely worth a look) and the film's theatrical trailer. Overall, Fox has outdone themselves on this offering. Let's all hope it's a trend they will encourage and foster for subsequent deep catalogue titles on Blu-ray. Highly recommended!

FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)

3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

4

EXTRAS

4