NIXPIX - DVD & BLU-RAY Reviews

WINGS: Blu-ray (Paramount 1927) Paramount Home Video

2012-01-27T22:03:00.002-05:00

The very first and only silent movie to take home a Best Picture Oscar, William Wellman's Wings (1927) remains a monumental achievement in storytelling. While time and technologies have undoubtedly changed, the screenplay by Hope Loring and Louis D. Lighton remains fairly fresh and exciting. Ditto for the effervescent acting of Buddy Rogers, Richard Arlen, and then 'IT' girl, Clara Bow.

Paramount Pictures really put its best foot forward on this last great silent feature and the results hold up spectacularly well, even from our very contemporary perspective. Harry Perry's cinematography, that incorporated hand cranked cameras actually bolted to real biplanes flying perilously dangerous missions in the sky, left this critic white knuckled and appreciative for not only the cameramen involved but also the actors - all of whom do their own stunt work (most of it, harrowing and treacherous).

Completed on a then monumental budget of $2 million dollars, our story opens in the halcyon days before WWI with a manly rivalry between suitors Jack Powell (Buddy Rogers) and David Armstrong (Richard Arlen) for the affections of the town snooty, Sylvia Lewis (Jobyna Ralston) - a girl with big city experience. David comes from an affluent family. But Jack is the boy next door. Happy circumstance for Jack, since the girl next door, Mary Preston (Clara Bow) just happens to be in love with him.

Jack and Mary revamp a beat up car into the roadster, 'The Shooting Star'. Mary tells jack, "You know what to do when you see a shooting star? Kiss the girl you're in love with." But this gives Jack the idea to go see Sylvia instead. Too bad for Jack that Sylvia's heart belongs to David.

Learning that the boys have been drafted into the air corp. Sylvia prepares a silver locket with her picture in it for David to carry into battle. She even writes an inscription of her love on the back of the photo before inserting it into the locket. Unfortunately, Jack mistakes the locket as a present for him and Sylvia, not having the heart to straighten him out, lets him keep it.

During basic training Jack attempts to knock David senseless in a boxing match. But after David refuses to surrender to Jack - despite being badly beaten by him - Jack realizes what a brave man David really is and the two become best friends. Jack and David also meet veteran flyer, Cadet White (Gary Cooper in a star defining role) who is killed during a training exercise at base camp. Jack and David fly train hard and eventually fly air raids over enemy lines, wiping out many German pilots during their missions, winning the respect of Lieutenant Cameron (Roscoe Karns).

Given furlough in France, Jack takes on with a French chorus girl (Arlette Marchal) at the Moulin Rouge before Mary arrives to rescue him from making a terrible drunken mistake. It seems Mary has joined the Red Cross Ambulance Corp. and just happens to be stationed in France at the same time. Taking Jack back to her room, Mary's superiors learn of their fraternization. Strictly forbidden under army regulations, Mary's association with Jack gets her fired from her job. She is forced to return home while the boy's fight on.

Jack and David come to a parting of the ways after David attempts to save Jack from humiliation by tearing up Sylvia's locket photo before Jack can read her inscription. The boys fly a harrowing mission in which David is downed behind enemy lines. Wounded but still very much alive, he steals a German plane and attempts to fly back to the base. But Jack, mistaking him for an enemy pilot, shoots the plane down. It crashes into a farmhouse and David is killed.

Returning home a war hero, Jack is riddled with guilt. David's mother (Julia Swayne Gordon), who vowed to hate Jack for the rest of her life, forgives him instead after Jack returns to her the toy teddy bear David once vowed to carry with him through the battle. Jack rushes home where he is reunited with his parents (George Irving and Hedda Hopper) and later, Mary who reminds him, as they look up and see a shooting star, what he can do with the girl he loves. Having at long last realized how deeply she cares for him, Jack leans Mary into him and kisses her.

Viewed today, Wings' storytelling holds up remarkably well. Part of the reason for this is the liquidity in camera movement achieved by Harry Perry. Gone are the static long shots one generally associates with silent movies. Wings has a fresh and vital cinematography that is in keeping with the very best in contemporary movies. The camera soars - literally - and dizzyingly up into the wild blue yonder and beyond.

The one curiosity for this reviewer was seeing Clara Bow's name above the title. Frankly, and despite her galvanic reputation as Paramount's 'IT' girl, she isn't in the film all that much. Wings is a buddy/buddy flick. It's real stars are Buddy Rogers and Richard Arlen. Both have matinee idol good looks to recommend them - Rogers appealing more toward the prepubescent and Arlen a good mainstay for the twenty-something female audience. But each can act too. It's a wonder their respective careers never advanced after Wings (or perhaps they did and are simply forgotten today).

The male bonding chemistry is really what gives Wings its sparkle and heart. 'Wild' Bill Wellman's attention to realism sells the drama, tragedy and heroism of those daring WWI pilots as high cinematic art. Wellman was a relative unknown in the director's chair when Wings was being prepared. Asked by Jesse Lasky why he thought he would be the ideal choice to helm such a weighty and expensive project, Wellman replied, "I'll make the best goddamn picture that ever was."

That was enough for Lasky. And Wellman damn near succeeds in doing just that. Wings remains a high water mark in American film making. Despite the 90 plus years that have passed since its general release, Wings is a film of epic illusion and grandeur. It needs to be screened more often today.

Paramount's Blu-ray resurrects the glory and wonder of Wings as few more recent digital transfer have been able to do and with far younger films to work from for their 1080p inspiration. Undergoing an exhaustive restoration, Wings comes to life on home video as never before. The meticulous research and restoration yields a magnificently layered, texturally dense and often very vivid transfer.

The film is presented in hand tinted sepia, purple, deep azure and golden hues depending on the mood Wellman is attempting to achieve. While certain scenes still retain a heavy patina of film grain and marginal loss of fine details, the overall visual presentation of Wings is one of gorgeous preservation. Truly, the film elements look marvelous beyond all expectation and will surely not disappoint.

Two scores accompany this presentation: the first preserving the 'organ music' that would have accompanied the film during its general release, but the latter being a full orchestra and sound effects re-orchestration that duplicates as close as possible the original road show engagement. This latter scoring session is preferred and really heightens one's appreciation for the film.

Extras are limited to three short featurettes: on the making of the film, the underscoring and restoration process, and another on filming aerial dogfights. Bottom line: To kick off its 100 year celebration in film making Paramount Home Video has done an exceptional job preserving this vintage classic for future generations. Wings is a winner. Buy it today. Treasure it forever. Very highly recommended!

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

ANNIE HALL (UA 1977) MGM/Fox Home Video

2012-01-27T21:05:00.001-05:00

Not since 1938's You Can't Take It With You had a comedy won the coveted Best Picture Oscar until 1977's Annie Hall. Since then, no comedy has even dared to try and for good reason. Along with Manhattan (1979), Annie Hall (1977) is probably Woody Allen's greatest filmic achievement - a darling existentialist romp through the rather severe neuroses of a pair of pixelated misfits. Co-written by Marshall Brickman and Allen, the film takes romantic banality to a whole new, and sublimely hilarious level. The film's uncanny biographical similarities with Allen's real life have caused some critics to suggest that Annie Hall is really about Allen's relationship with co-star Diane Keaton - a fact Allen continues to deny to this day.

In retrospect, Annie Hall marks a significant departure for Allen from his previous filmic works. The plot is played mostly serious, if with brilliant, often scathing and supremely sardonic wit that only Woody Allen can provide. Originally intended as a drama with a murder mystery as its focus, Annie Hall ultimately became a study of imperfect (in some cases, seriously flawed) male/female relationships.

Our story opens with socially repressed New York comedy writer, Alvie Singer (Woody Allen) and his misshapen reflections on his life thus far. Alvie sees himself as a typical Jewish man but tends to see Jew haters, both real and imagined, lurking everywhere in his midst. To alleviate this religious angst Alvie relies on his friend, Rob (Tony Roberts) who chronically calls him 'Max' and inadvertently sets Alvie up with social neurotic Annie Hall (Diane Keaton) during a tennis match.

Annie is obnoxiously funny, a horrendous scatterbrain and a truly terrible driver. Her idiosyncrasies (including needing marijuana before, during and after sex) leave Alvie feeling even more socially inept and awkward, but with the added emotional hindrance of being hopelessly in love. Alvie engages Annie on a strictly platonic level at first. In point of fact, he thinks she's pretty dumb and encourages her to take night course to improve her mind. Unhappy chance that Annie takes this suggestion to heart. As her intellect grows, so too do Alvie's insecurities - that she might leave him for someone better.

Annie introduces Alvie to her family. Her mother (Colleen Dewhurst) encourages the match, but Annie's severely troubled brother, Duane (Christopher Walken) only seems to add to Alvie's nervous uncertainties about their relationship.

Annie wants to be a singer. At first, this dream goes unrealized. In fact, her nightclub debut is an unqualified disaster. But fear not. With Alvie's encouragement, Annie presses on, eventually garnering the respect of her audience and even the interest of big time L.A. record producer, Tony Lacy (Paul Simon). Alvie and Annie fly out to the coast. And although Annie elects to stay behind to cut a record - thereby forcing their breakup, she eventually returns to the Big Apple, though not necessarily to Alvie or even to that cloistered nervous existence she once knew.

Alvie runs through a series of even more tragically flawed relationships (Janet Margolin, Carol Kane and Shelley Duvall) only to realize too late that Annie has been the one for him all along. Regrettably, by the time he's figured this out it's really too late to go back and repair the damage in their relationship. Alvie will just have to live with the fact that he has let his soul mate get away.

Woody Allen’s ability to fashion a cohesive story out of disjointed - often seemingly pointless - vignettes is not only admirable, but fully realized. His non-linear narrative nimbly explores the past, present and future all at once, incorporating first person narrations and even animation to revitalize what is essentially a very conventional romance between two very unromantically inspired people.

Take, for example, the scene where Alvie is waiting outside a theater for a movie date with Annie. Alvie is suddenly accosted by an ardent fan (James Burge) who makes a damn hilarious nuisance of himself by screaming Alvie’s name and credentials to passerby foot traffic.

This scene, like the next where Alvie and Annie are forced to listen to a pontificating critic while waiting in line for tickets, ends only when the author being criticized - Marshall McLuhan - turns up from behind one of the lobby marquees to admonish the man and reaffirm Alvie's faith in sweet revenge. "If only life were this simple," he muses. But these sequences have absolutely nothing to do with Alvie and Annie's romance. Nevertheless, they help to set a style, a mood and a tone for the film that ultimately satisfies and, even more miraculously, carries the romantic thread along to its next deceptively explorative moment.

Woody Allen is of course his usual brilliant self-deprecating self – employing a direct address to the audience throughout the film that is quite engaging. Christopher Walken makes a welcomed edition as Annie’s off kilter brother, Duane. Diane Keaton won her Best Actress Oscar for this film. But knowing her as we do today, she seems to be playing herself in the film rather than a character; her wacky delivery of lines and, then unconventional, wardrobe just par for the course of who Diane Keaton is in life. Does she still deserve the Oscar for being herself? Arguably, yes. Her performance is eclectic and moody and fraught with an ability to create great audience sympathy for the character of Annie Hall.

In retrospect, Annie Hall the film seems like the quirky precursor that might have inspired Seinfeld; another story about New Yorkers that, in truth, have very little to say but do it magnificently well as masters in the art of time-suckage.

MGM/Fox's Blu-ray easily bests its disgustingly below par DVD transfer from 1999. Despite being repackaged many times since that initial release, the non-anamorphic DVD was always a blight on the company's roster of mainstream home video releases. The Blu-ray rectifies the first great sin by enhancing the transfer for widescreen TVs. We get a very smart and generally clean 1080p transfer that I suspect has been derived from less than perfect film elements. In fact, I would have to say that this is a 720p image simply bumped up to a 1080p resolution.

Colours are slightly faded and contrast levels much weaker than expected. There are even a few instances where film grain has a terribly digitized look to it. *Check out the scene where Annie and Alvie stroll near the Hudson at twilight near the bridge. It's not only excessively grainy, but background information looks as though its suffering from 'tiling'.

Sharpness is also another issue. The Blu-ray is softly focused. Details don't pop as they should. In fact, there's a very flat look to this transfer. Background information tends to get lost or simply blend in together without distinction. Darker scenes lack fine detail. Overall, I have to say this is a below middling effort, but in the same breath will state that, compared to the DVD, the Blu-ray is light years ahead of the game.

So, buyer beware and let the chips fall where they may. Annie Hall is both visually better and worse than expected on Blu-ray. The average rating given the disc below is for direct comparisons and marked improvements over the aforementioned DVD. But as a Blu-ray stand alone disc, apart from its DVD counterpart Annie Hall probably ranks more like a 2 to 2.5 out of 5.

The audio is mono as originally recorded, and although dated, exhibits an adequate listening experience that is in keeping with Woody Allen's own minimalist approach to making movies (at least, movies from this vintage in his career). There are NO extras!

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

VIDEO/AUDIO
3

EXTRAS
0

THE BLUES BROTHERS: Blu-ray (Universal 1980) Universal Home Video

2012-01-21T15:02:00.002-05:00

A mindless claptrap loosely structured to 'celebrate' the city of Chicago and several of the biggest R&B acts of their generation, John Landis' The Blues Brothers (1980) attempts to straddle the light hearted trappings of the musical comedy, but winds up strapping a pipe bomb to everything instead. The film is the brainchild of Saturday Night Live alumni Dan Akroyd and John Belushi; the two having played the brothers Blue on television in several popular skits.

Envisioning a more durable and lengthy piece of entertainment for himself and Belushi to co-star in, Akroyd wrote a 324 page screenplay (his first, and nearly 3 times as long as a normal screenplay ought to be) before having the manuscript bound to resemble a copy of the telephone book and submitting it to Landis for consideration. Evidently, Landis saw something he liked, because he quickly set about pruning Akroyd's concept into a manageable length.

The premise for all the musical numbers and rampant destruction that follows is threadbare at best. Jake Blues (John Belushi) is paroled after serving three years in prison for armed robbery. His brother Elwood (Dan Akroyd) immediately takes him for a little tete a tete with 'the penguin': Sister Mary Stigmata (Kathleen Freeman) who is disappointed by the way 'her boys' have turned out. But now the orphanage where Elwood and Jake grew up is in very real danger of being taken over by the city for failing to pay its taxes. (Aside: religious properties are exempt from taxation. However, at the time the script was being developed Illinois was considering a bill that would have revoked that exemption).

Jake offers to knock over a liquor store to get Sister Mary the $5,000 she needs to save the orphanage. But Elwood reasons a more prudent way to raise money. He and Jake will reunite with their band and give a benefit concert. To bolster their confidence the orphanage's custodian, Curtis (Cab Calloway) tells the boys to visit an Evangelical church run by Rev. Cleophus James (James Brown). The boys attend and Jake is divinely inspired by the word of God.

All, however, does not go according to plan. Elwood is pulled over by two state troopers (Steven Williams and Armand Cerami) for running a red light. Discovering that Elwood's license has expired the police make chase. Elwood drives his car through the Dixie Square Mall in a 'Smokey and the Bandit' styled chase that ends with the total annihilation of virtually every store front in the place.

(Aside: the Dixie Square was an abandoned property set for demolition at the time Landis and his crew did their own wrecking of its interiors. However, after the filmed carnage the state of Illinois attempted to sue Universal for the cost of damages, claiming they had plans to reopen the mall but could no longer consider it viable or safe.)

Elwood takes Jake back to his 'men's club' - a flophouse. But the next day the entire establishment is nuked by 'a mysterious woman' (Carrie Fisher). Elwood and Jake survive the building's collapse and make their way to Ray's Music Express, an emporium presided over by none other than Ray Charles. They acquire new instruments on credit and hurry off to collect the remaining members of their band (Murphy Hall, Willie Dunne, Matt Murphy and Tom Malone).

Matt's ol' lady, Mrs. Murphy (Aretha Franklin) attempts to discourage her hubby's participation in the band's reunion by belting out a rendition of 'Think', but to no avail. Elwood and Jake interrupt a Neo Nazi rally, driving their car into the crowd and forcing the Nazis to jump into the river, thus incurring the wrath of the Head Nazi (Henry Gibson) who vows revenge.

Next, Elwood, Jake and the boys make their way to Bob's Country Bunker; a remote western bar where they crash the Good Ol' Boy's gig. Unfortunately, they drink more than they earn and the bar owner (Jeff Morris) demands payment. The band flees into the night, making their way to the Palace Hotel ballroom. Elwood and Jake rally their friends to promote their appearance and sell out the 5000 seat venue. Their ambitious promotion works, but it also alerts the police, Bob and the Head Nazi to Jake and Elwood's whereabouts.

On route to the Palace, Jake and Elwood run out of gas, forcing the band to go on without them for the first act. Curtis performs a retro rendition of Minnie the Moocher and wows the crowd. After a brief flirtation with 'a chic lady' (Twiggy), Jake and Elwood arrive at the Palace. They perform their trademark song that brings the audience to a standing ovation. Unfortunately, their arch nemeses are about to close in.

Elwood and Jake escape through a trap door in the stage floor but are confronted by 'the mysterious lady' who turns out to be Jake's estranged wife. She has come there to murder the brothers. But at the last possible moment she allows herself to be very briefly seduced by her ex instead. Elwood and Jake elude their captors and race back to Chicago.

The extended chase sequence that brings them to the County Clerk also brings out the police and the National Guard. Elwood and Jake burst into the Cook County Assessor's office where their money is taken on behalf of the orphanage by a lowly clerk (Steven Spielberg). The orphanage has been saved. Unfortunately, someone will have to atone for all the damages incurred throughout the state. Jake, Elwood and the band are carted off to prison - presumably for an indefinite stay. The film concludes with the band performing 'Jailhouse Rock' to the rest of the inmates.

The Blues Brothers would be considered high camp with cameos a la the likes of Michael Todd if only the resulting narrative weren't so fraught with structural inconsistencies that render the movie an episodic mishmash. The premise for the film is so threadbare it's practically nonexistent after the initial scenes at the orphanage are played out. What follows is a grossly overinflated and overproduced series of clichéd vignettes. It is rumoured that 103 cars were totalled during the lengthy chases that open and close the film; to say nothing of the many properties damaged along the way.

I must be getting old, but this sort of thoughtless twaddle doesn't appeal to me anymore. I'm not entirely certain that it ever did. The musical acts are engaging, I suppose, but their choreography is more frenetic than fantastic. George Folsey Jr.'s slapdash editing simply fades to black or cuts away to another angle of action already covered when he seems incapable of providing a dramatic visual link or transition between scenes. In the end, The Blues Brothers isn't so much a tongue-in-cheek 'look who's here' cavalcade of stars - musical and otherwise - as it proves an exhaustive roller coaster ride that runs out of thrills and outstays its welcome long before the final fade out.

Universal Home Video has chosen to include The Blues Brothers as part of their 100 year celebration. This disc is just a repackaged version of the Blu-ray already available for more than a year. So if you already own it, don't buy it again. We get two versions of the film; the theatrical cut and the 'extended director's cut'. The latter doesn't really add anything to your viewing experience so much as it simply lengthens a few of the musical sequences with different angles of the action already covered in the theatrical cut. The excised portions reinserted into the film have a different colour palette than the rest of the film and appear - at least to my eye - slightly more waxen and void of film grain than the rest of the movie.

Overall colour fidelity is solid (except during the aforementioned inserts). Flesh tones are quite natural. Contrast levels are stong. Blacks are deep. Whites are clean. Age related artefacts are not an issue. A hint of edge enhancement crops up but nothing that will distract. The visuals are in fine shape and will surely not disappoint. The DTS audio is unexpectedly aggressive, particularly during the musical sequences. Heavy on the bass and really robust in its clarity and separation. Extras include a retro hour long 'making of' documentary and two brief featurettes: one on transposing the music, the other on remembering John Belushi.

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

EXTRAS

3.5

A FAREWELL TO ARMS: Blu-ray (Paramount 1932) Kino/Lorber

2012-01-21T13:35:00.001-05:00

Ernest Hemmingway's literary masterworks have never translated well to the big screen. Perhaps it's because most of Hemmingway's celebrated novels are not really works of fiction at all, but thinly disguised first person accounts of the author's own expeditions around the world. This semi autobiographical approach may read well as literature but it doesn't necessarily play well as pure cinema. Such is the case with Frank Borzage's adaptation of A Farewell to Arms (1932); a sumptuously mounted super production from Paramount that regrettably only comes to life in brief fits and sparks.

Difficult to say what is the problem here. Benjamin Glazer and Oliver Garrett's screenplay moves the action along at a swift pace (perhaps a little too swift), while Charles Lang's lush black and white cinematography transforms the internal decadences of the First World War into sublime cinema art. So too is the film blessed with first lady of the American theater, Helen Hayes, and matinee idol cum realist actor Gary Cooper as the struggling protagonists of our harrowing tale. Each is in fine form. Together they share a thread of sympathy that makes their doomed romance all the more palpably tragic. Still, the thing doesn't come together as it should and this is a genuine mystery.

The title of Hemmingway's bleakest novel is excised from a 16th century poem by English dramatist, George Peele. The novel cynically contrasts the intimacy of personal loss with the more epic destruction of civilizations. The film does not have that luxury of exposition or time to explore these dualities. Hence, we are left with the story of American Lieutenant in the Italian Ambulance Corp., Frederic Henry (Gary Cooper). A carousing devil-may-care sort, along with his suave sidekick, Maj. Rinaldi (Adolph Menjou); the two frequent the more salacious brothels and bars in search of libations and prostitutes to numb their psychological wounds.

Rinaldi is the real womanizer; Frederic, his protégée. Yet, despite the many seductions they share, Frederic's heart is never in the same place as his loins. After a particularly vicious bombing raid, Frederic meets nurse Catherine Barkley (Helen Hayes). At first she is very curt with Frederic. However, during a music recital Rinaldi encourages Catherine to share a drink with him in the garden. She agrees. But when Rinaldi returns a few moments later with a bottle and two glasses he finds Frederic seated next to Catherine.

Frederic attempts to take advantage of Catherine. She slaps his face, but then decides to allow him to kiss her again. She reveals to him a broken heart over the loss of her boyfriend in the war and he discovers that she is a virgin. Learning of their affair - an entanglement forbidden by army protocol - Rinaldi has Catherine reassigned to a hospital in Milan. But when Frederic is wounded in battle he is taken to that very same hospital where his affair with Catherine continues.

Well enough to return to the front, Frederic departs without ever knowing he has impregnated his beloved. She flees to Switzerland to have the baby but writes Frederic most every day. Unfortunately, Rinaldi has decided for himself that Frederic does not need any more 'distractions'. He confiscates the letters and files them away. Meanwhile, Frederic continues to write Catherine at the hospital in Milan - unaware that she is no longer there.

Frantic to learn what has happened, Frederic deserts the army. He is discovered by Rinaldi who reluctantly tells Frederic where Catherine is. But Rinaldi has forwarded Catherine's unopened letters to Frederic back to her. Fearing that this means Frederic is dead, Catherine suffers a collapse. Her baby is delivered prematurely and stillborn. Frederic arrives in Switzerland to find her gravely ill. And although Catherine's faith in Frederic and their love is restored with this reunion, it comes too late to save her broken heart. She dies in Frederic's arms, just as the town's steeple bells begin to peel, heralding the armistice between Italy and the Austro-Hungarian empire.

A Farewell to Arms has its moments to be sure. And certainly, this adaptation is ahead of the lugubrious 1957 remake co-starring Jennifer Jones and Rock Hudson. Yet, on the whole the story simply does not gel as it should - even as a straight forward romance. The first third is very strong, with Cooper earnestly excelling as the dreamy-eyed Lothario. But from the moment his Frederic meets Catherine his charisma is stultified, diffusing his blithe spirit into a more serious - and arguably - less appealing lover.

Helen Hayes is an odd choice for Catherine. As an actress she's more than adequate. But as a woman made desirable to a man who, arguably, has had plenty of them, she is less than. It's hard to see why Cooper's Frederic would be so intoxicated by Haye's sexually inexperienced ingénue. The hurdle of this explanation is never entirely resolved and, as the affair between Catherine and Frederic blossoms it becomes even more of a perplexing issue. There are flashes of on screen chemistry between Cooper and Hayes, but these are fleeting at best. The overriding arch in their romance is absent. In the final analysis, A Farewell to Arms is like a diamond in the rough; attractive looking but with a serious flaw running through it that is never entirely buffed out.

The same might be said for Kino Lorber's Blu-ray release of the film. Remastered from original 35mm fine grain elements, the image is fairly impressive in its reproduction of film grain. Contrast levels are very good with deep blacks and clean whites. But age related artefacts are everywhere and distract on more than one occasion. Overall, the image is sharp, exposing a fair amount of fine detail. There are, however, moments when the elements lapse into a murky soup of soft focus and weaker than expected tonality.

The audio is mono as original recorded. it exhibits consistent hiss and pop throughout. Save three trailers there are NO extras to consider.

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

EXTRAS

GOOD MORNING VIETNAM (Touchstone 1987) Buena Vista Home Video

2012-01-20T13:41:00.002-05:00

Art imitates life...well, sort of, in Barry Levinson's Good Morning Vietnam (1987) a very loose adaptation of the experiences of Armed Forces Radio D.J., Adrian Cronauer. In 1979 the real Cronauer attempted to garner interest in turning his tenure in Vietnam into a television sitcom. Unfortunately, networks were disinterested in both his premise and the war. Fast forward a decade later and at least part of Cronauer's dream becomes a reality.

But the idea Cronauer pitched to Hollywood is decidedly very different from the film that ultimately premiered in theaters. Good Morning Vietnam plays fast and loose with Cronauer's life's work. In fact, apart from its general tenor and a few key elements derived from Cronauer's real life experiences, the screenplay by Mitch Markowitz is a work of total fiction.

Second class airman Adrian Cronauer (Robin Williams) arrives in Saigon in 1965 to host a program for the Armed Forces Radio Service. It is Brigadier Gen. Taylor's (Nobel Willingham) hope that Cronauer's glib take on current events will stimulate the morale of the troops stationed in Vietnam.

Cronauer is immediately befriended by Private Edward Garlick (Forest Whitaker). But his reception with commanding officers Lieutenant Steve Hauk (Bruno Kirby) and Sergeant Major Dickerson (J.T. Walsh) is frosty at best. Neither wants Cronauer on their watch and neither cares for his particular brand of humour.

Despite this friction, Cronauer proves to be untouchable; thanks to the support of his listeners and Taylor's backing. He also befriends his fellow disc jockeys, Mart Lee Driewitz (Robert Wuhl) and Dan 'the man' Levitan (Richard Portnow), buying them drinks and women inside Jimmy Wah's (Cu Ba Nguyen) plush local watering hole. Sometime before, an ex G.I. promised Wah nude pictures of actor Walter Brennan and Wah is counting on Cronauer to fulfill that request.

At work Cronauer changes the program's format from easy listening to rock and roll. He further infuriates his superiors by poking endless fun at the President, his daughters, his policies and the general absurdity of the actions taken by the White House that are progressively leading to an escalation of the war.

Cronauer meets and becomes infatuated with Trinh (Chintara Suapatana); a young Vietnamese girl taking English lessons. She is distant and untrusting, but Cronauer pursues her - even bribing her teacher to let him take over the class. But Cronauer is thwarted in his romantic advances by Trinh's brother, Tuan (Tung Thanh Tran) who believes that Cronauer's influence can only corrupt his sister's honor.

Cronauer is reprimanded by Dickerson after he involves himself in a brawl over some Vietnamese prostitutes at Jimmy Wah's. And although Cronauer takes his lumps, he continues to broadcast as he likes and teach the unorthodox English classes to be near Trinh. Impressed by Cronauer's sense of honor, Tuan sets him up on a date with Trinh's whole family serving as their chaperone. Cronauer is generous with his money and buys everyone a seat inside the local theater.

Later on, Tuan rushes to Jimmy Wah's - reportedly to get Cronauer to meet Trinh privately. The two are barely a few feet outside the bar when the entire establishment is blown to bits. Cronauer is shaken and does not see what is plainly a setup. Tuan is a Viet Cong operative who has risked his own life to save his friend from the explosion at the last possible moment.

Cronauer attempts to broadcast news of the incident and is promptly taken off the air. He becomes bitter and cynical about the U.S. involvement in Saigon and vows to quit his job rather than play his part in the cover up. This suits Dickerson and Hauk fine. But Taylor commands his underlings to reinstate Cronauer with all possible speed.

Dickerson devises a ploy to rid himself of Cronauer by sending him into dangerous terrain to interview the soldiers. During his trek into the jungle Cronauer's jeep is blown off the road by a Viet Cong land mine. Tuan risks his life again to rescue Cronauer. But this time he is revealed to be Phan Duc To, a VC operative. Gen.Taylor cannot ignore this association. Cronauer loses his job and is ordered to leave Vietnam.

On his bittersweet ride to the airport, Cronauer convinces Garlick and his escort to allow him one final visit to Trinh and his 'English class'. There, Cronauer stages a spontaneous softball game with the students and gives Garlick a recorded message to play on the air as his farewell address to the troops. Garlick remains true to his word, then assumes the reigns of Cronauer's old show.

Good Morning Vietnam benefits immensely from Robin William's explosive shoot from the hip improvisation. Whenever the screenplay paints itself into a melodramatic corner Levinson cuts to Williams as Cronauer seated behind the microphone and belting out a litany of scathing satire guaranteed to tickle the funny bone. The disappointment, of course, is that the screenplay has been artificially plumped out with pure pulp. This isn't Adrian Cronauer's stories from Vietnam. It is pure fabrication almost from beginning to end.

That said, Mitch Mankowitz's screenplay gets a lot of mileage from its liberal slant on the big bad U.S. government invading a small country and turning everything upside down. This is a fairly enjoyable movie that glosses over its points and, in the final analysis, moralizes the figurehead of Adrian Cronauer as a crusader championing peace and his fellow G.I.

Buena Vista Home Video's Blu-ray easily bests its previously issued DVD on every level. The image is tighter and more refined. A few scenes retain a thick patina of grain that seems slightly unnatural, but on the whole, this is a faithful reproduction of the theatrical experience. Colours are bold and bright. Contrast levels are bang on allowing Peter Sova's cinematography to really shine through. Flesh tones are very natural in appearance.

The DTS audio delivers the goods, particularly on the catalogue of vintage pop tunes that are interpolated throughout the story. The explosion at Jimmy Wah's is also appropriately aggressive. Extras include a featurette with the real Adrian Cronauer, interviews with Levinson and cast and crew, outtakes and the original theatrical trailer. Good stuff, all around.

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

EXTRAS

MANHATTAN: Blu-ray (UA 1979) MGM/Fox Home Video

2012-01-19T14:57:00.002-05:00

There are two love affairs at play in Woody Allen's brilliant dram-edy Manhattan (1979); the first between two couples with opposing viewpoints about practically everything, and the latter (and more meaningful) between Allen and the isle from whence the film derives its title. Undeniably, this is Woody Allen's most personal masterwork; an intimate celebration of the New York he knows so well and worships at every possible chance he gets.

Allen is Isaac, a middle aged, angst ridden TV comedy writer who is currently indulging a May/December whirlwind with 17 year old music protégée Tracy (Mariel Hemmingway). Outwardly, Isaac's friends, Yale (Michael Murphy) and Emily (Anne Byrne Hoffman) support his relationship. Inwardly, they feel he is making a terrible mistake - one that can only end in disastrous heartbreak.

The wrinkle here is that even as Yale professes to be in a stable relationship he is having an affair with journalist, Mary (Diane Keaton). Yale confides the affair to Isaac and asks that he check Mary out to garner his approval. But Isaac and Mary's first casual meeting goes hopelessly awry. She's too opinionated, too bold in her criticisms and too grating on his nerves. Or maybe not. An accidental reunion without Yale reveals to Isaac that Mary is just as vulnerable as he is. She just happens to shield her insecurity from the world. Isaac, on the other hand, wears his awkwardly on his sleeve.

Isaac decides to convince Tracy that he is all wrong for her so that he pursue Mary for himself without feeling guilty. But he cannot betray Tracy's naive sweetness, even if it's for her own good. So far, the plot of Manhattan sounds about as close to cliché as the romantic comedy can get. That is, of course, if the movie had been written and directed by anyone other than Woody Allen. The most engaging aspect of any Woody Allen film in general, and this one in particular, is its seemingly effortless use of dialogue; so natural and unassuming that it appears to be happening with a magical spontaneity as the film plays on.

The conversations these characters have with each other are never anything but spot on truthful. Allen is at his most wonderfully sardonic when he suggests to Tracy that he believes in mating for life "like pigeons and Catholics". But the humour peppered throughout this wordy excursion is only part of the dialogue's charm. There is something else at play here - a sort of reality apart from the world of artificially crafted narrative film. It goes without saying that Allen's delivery of each line carries with it a weight of comedic genius. But again, that's only a fragment of the sparkle that Manhattan delivers in spades virtually from its first frame to its last.

One aspect of the film that sets it apart from virtually all others in Woody Allen's canon is its spellbinding B&W cinematography from Gordon Willis. Above all else, Manhattan is a story of that tiny little isle where all of these lives playfully and occasionally self-destructively intersect. The usually introspective Allen makes no apology for creating a character out of this vast cityscape. In fact, he revels in peeling back the layers to get to the heart of what makes New York...well...New York. We are first introduced to 'Manhattan' with a flourish of Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue and an eclectic series of shots that take us from the Bronx to the Battery and everyplace in between.

Yet these opening images are not presented as a travelogue per say. Rather they are an exaltation of Manhattan as a place where the nostalgia of our collective memories collide with the more sumptuous and imaginative daydreams we all share.

Clearly, Woody Allen has imparted his love of the city on Gordon Willis (or perhaps Willis shared it all along). Either way Manhattan - the movie is a visceral journey to the very heart of love and life embodied in the flawed human beings attempting to find their own happiness within its tight borders. Isaac, Mary, Yale and Tracy may be imperfectly matched, but Manhattan - as seen through Woody Allen's eyes, is as close to perfect as cities and motion pictures get.

MGM/Fox's Blu-ray easily bests MGM's old SD DVD from 2002. Here at last is Manhattan as we ought to have seen it all along; with its sumptuous deep focus image revealing a startling clarity and multitude of fine details even during its darkest scenes. The gray scale has been impeccably rendered. Blacks are velvety deep. Whites are pristine. Film grain is ideally preserved for a very theatrical experience. There is a razor sharpness to the visuals that reveals more fine detail and background information than ever before. Love, love, LOVE this 1080p transfer!

The audio is DTS 2.0 and really does justice to the many orchestral offerings scattered throughout the film. Dialogue sounds crisper than I recall and althought obviously manufactured, will impress like never before. The one disappointment is in the extras. There are none. Just a theatrical trailer. But I digress. Manhattan on Blu-ray comes highly recommended!

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

THE APARTMENT (Mirisch 1960) MGM/Fox Home Video

2012-01-19T13:59:00.001-05:00

Billy Wilder’s The Apartment (1960) is a subversive light comedy with a very big message. Reportedly, the idea for the film first came to Wilder after seeing Brief Encounter (1945). But the gestation period for The Apartment proved lengthy, perhaps because Wilder knew that the story he really wanted to tell could not be told under the stringencies of the Production Code. Throughout the 1950s Wilder toyed with numerous ideas for a screenplay with long time collaborator, I.A.L. Diamond.

But by 1960 the Production Code - and indeed the studio system that had fostered it for so many years - were in a state of steep decline and utter chaos: not so good for Hollywood in general, but very, very good for Wilder and The Apartment.

According to co-star Shirley MacLaine, the script was written as filming progressed. However, Wilder has gone on record as saying that he only gave his actors several pages of the script at a time because he did not want them to know the ending of his story in advance. In MacLaine's case, this uncertainty definitely added something extra to her performance; a sort of skittish effervescence.

Our tale charts the rise and inevitable fall of aspiring corporate stooge, C.C. Baxter (Jack Lemmon) as he suffers through the various pitfalls while climbing up the corporate ladder. Baxter has his eye on a key to the executive washroom. But he’s in a dead end job – just another cog in a very big wheel.

Baxter is so desperate for a chance to elevate himself at work that he sucks up to his boss, Mr. Vanderhoff (Willard Waterman). When the latter decides he needs a quiet little place to take his secretary for a little backroom badinage, Baxter loans him his apartment for the evening – assuming the favor will be returned in kind with a leg up at work.

It isn’t. Instead, Vanderhoff lets it be known around the office that Baxter’s apartment can be used for private affairs. In no time Baxter’s flat has gone from a lonely bachelor pad to a sort of portable rendezvous for wayward married executives who want more than dictation from their secretaries. Spending more than one night out in the freezing cold or soaking himself inside a local bar while his bosses indulge themselves at his place isn’t exactly what Baxter had in mind. But what can he do?

Reneging on the deal now would put a crimp in everyone’s plans and create a trickle down resentment that could relegate Baxter to the end of the line for a promotion. If it seems that Baxter’s life is going nowhere – it is. But things begin to look up after he becomes romantically drawn to pixie-ish elevator operator, Fran Kubelik (Shirley MacLaine). Baxter senses that Fran shares his flirtatious enthusiasm. But his optimism for a romance is shattered after he discovers that Fran and the company’s president, Mr. Sheldrake (Fred MacMurray) are having an affair.

Having heard about Baxter’s 'hospitality', Sheldrake borrows the apartment for several trysts with Fran. But when he decides to break up with her and go back to his wife, Fran attempts suicide – bringing notoriety and possible scandal to this low key hideaway. As a favor for hushing up the whole fiasco, Sheldrake promises Baxter what he’s always wanted – a cushy job in the executive suite. But has Baxter already paid too high a price for the privilege?

The Apartment is often interpreted as both a critique and a snub of the corporate world; a place Wilder clearly perceives as harboring the lowest common denominator of rank professionalism. Jack Lemmon is the idea 'hero' for this very un-heroic story. His everyman excels on every level at revealing the frustrations as well as the elations of a good guy mildly corrupted by his surroundings.

Shirley MacLaine delivers an enchanting performance as the waifish innocent who nearly succumbs to 'the evils that men do'. Her Fran becomes the princess of a fractured fairytale. And her rescue, out of Baxter's apartment and into his arms, is as unexpected as it proves welcomed.

True to Wilder's own heart, Fran and Baxter eventually work through their auspicious romance with a card game. But it’s their proximity to certain failure until the very end that continues to ring true for more than a handful of daydreamers still stuck in the steno pool.

MGM/Fox Home Video’s Blu-ray thankfully improves on the mess that was their SD DVD. The B&W widescreen image not only tightens up, it sharpens up - considerably. Fine details that were marginally present now pop out with a startling clarity. We can, as example, for the first time clearly see patterns in suits and detail in hair and skin.

Contrast is slightly darker, but fine detail is evident even during the darkest scenes. Edge enhancement present on the DVD is still present on the Blu-ray, but has been greatly tempered for an image that is very smooth and mostly satisfying throughout this presentation while remaining true to Joseph LaShelle's original cinematography. The audio is DTS reprocessed stereo. I very much liked the robustness of Adolph Deutsch's score - particularly the main title.

Extras are all direct imports from the DVD and include two all too brief featurettes: one on the making of the film, the other a fleeting tribute to Jack Lemmon. There's also an audio commentary and theatrical trailer. Highly recommended!

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

EXTRAS

2.5

NOTORIOUS: Blu-ray (RKO 1946) MGM/Fox Home Video

2012-01-19T13:27:00.002-05:00

Alfred Hitchcock’s Notorious (1946) is a superior espionage thriller that treats its adult subject matter with great maturity and sincerity. At this point there had been a severe rupture in the Anglo/American alliance between Hitchcock and producer David O. Selznick. Neither particularly wanted to work together after Spellbound, but Selznick still wanted the revenues he could derive from another Hitchcock smash hit. So, Selznick put together a 'package' deal that included Cary Grant, Claude Rains, Ingrid Bergman and Hitchcock before farming out the property lock stock and barrel to RKO to produce and distribute.

For the first time since his arrival in America, Hitchcock was free to make the sort of movie he wanted to without Selznick's meddling...well, almost. Selznick did keep a watch on the film as it developed. But by then Hitchcock and screenwriter Ben Hecht had concocted a silky caper that could stand on its own.

The film stars Cary Grant as T.R. Devlin, a suave and laconic FBI man who employs the daughter of an executed Nazi, Alicia Huberman (Ingrid Bergman) to infiltrate her late father’s organization of spies in South America. Alicia’s past, as a fast and loose party girl precedes her arrival in town. Devlin pretends to be repulsed by her, but secretly harbours a growing sexual frustration to possess Alicia, yet oddly be rid of her once and for all. Devlin's boss, Capt. Paul Prescott (Louis Calhern) observes Devlin's looming obsession and pulls the plug on their burgeoning romance. After all, Alicia's 'talents' for seduction are needed elsewhere.

Alicia is employed to pursue one of her father's old friends, Alexander Sebastian (Claude Rains); the head of a Nazi spy ring. Devlin sets up their first cute meet at a horse track by startling Alicia's horse, thus forcing Sebastian to play the part of her gallant rescuer. Sebastian takes this bate and soon he and Alicia are inseparable. But their faux romance is frequently interrupted by Devlin's constant need to be near Alicia.

Alicia confides in Paul and Devlin that Sebastian has proposed marriage. After some consternation, mostly on Devlin's part, Alicia agrees to marry Sebastian to get even closer to uncovering the truth behind the Nazis' plans for espionage.

At first, Sebastian does not suspect a thing. But during a lavish reception given at their home, Sebastian is led to believe that Devlin and Alicia have become romantically involved. Yetr, the passionate kiss between Alicia and Devlin that he is privy to has actually been staged to throw Sebastian off Devlin's discovery of uranium found inside one of the vintage bottles inside Sebastian's wine cellar.

This rouse works only temporarily. Sebastian learns the truth about Alicia after investigating the wine cellar for himself early the next morning. Together with his mother, Anna (Leopoldine Konstantin), Sebastian decides that the only way to save face within the organization is to slowly poison his wife and make her resulting death look like an accident.

Notorious is slickly packaged entertainment, sinfully adroit and compelling. It is arguably the quintessential example of the master indulging in his craft with all pistons firing simultaneously. Ted Tetzlaff's moody cinematography creates a taut atmosphere throughout the film that gradually constricts the world around Devlin and Alicia into a claustrophobic and inescapable prison of their own design.

For arguably the first time in his career Cary Grant reveals a bitter alter ego to his usual devil-may-care charm. His Devlin is a courtly spy seething with a perverse need to command the woman he believes has betrayed his affections. Ingrid Bergman is tragic as the self destructive plaything who suddenly realizes she has every reason to live. Claude Rains positively oozes menace from every pore.

Notorious is a film of so many unique and engaging qualities that it's difficult to assess its greatest strength. Watching the film today is like indulging in a luscious pastry. All of the necessary ingredients are present and accounted for. Yet, each combines with others in perfect measure to go beyond mere nourishment and completely satisfy. In the final analysis, Notorious is a high-class thriller with few - if any - equals.

No! No! NO! Not again! When MGM/Fox Home Video issued its box set of Hitchcock thrillers encompassing a few of his British films as well as all of his Selznick tenure, Notorious received short shrift; its transfer softly focused, poorly contrasted and with a discernible amount of edge enhancement and pixelization. Hardly the way to treat a film as great as this.

But now we get the Blu-ray. Things should be different, right? Tragically, they're not! Notorious has obviously been sourced from the same flawed elements used in the DVD mastering effort. This is not a 1080p rescan but the same DVD transfer bumped up to a 1080p signal. The results speak for themselves. Contrast levels marginally improve. The image is ever so slightly darker. But image clarity is still lacking with a woeful loss of fine details evident throughout. Grain looks a tad more natural thanks to Blu-ray's higher bit rate, but the edge effects from the DVD are still present and more obvious than ever. What a sham!

Hitchcock films in general deserve nothing but the best mastering efforts. But Notorious is not just any Hitchcock film. Arguably, it represents the very best of his early work. It is, without question, his greatest Selznick picture! Regrettably, the Blu-ray does not even attempt to do the film justice.

The DTS audio is mono and adequate for this presentation. All of the extras, including several featurettes, and audio commentary, stills gallery and theatrical trailers are imports from the aforementioned, and much maligned, DVD release. For shame! MGM/Fox has taken a silk purse and made a sow's ear from it. Not recommended!

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

VIDEO/AUDIO
2

EXTRAS
3

SPELLBOUND: Blu-ray (Selznick 1945) MGM/Fox Home Video

2012-01-19T12:31:00.002-05:00

Psychologically speaking, Alfred Hitchcock’s Spellbound (1945) is a red herring; its simplification of Freud's theory on the guilt complex seem utterly quaint and slightly archaic by today's standards. That, however, does not discount the film from being a superior psychological thriller. By 1945 producer David O. Selznick was involved in several productions that diluted his total involvement on this film. In fact, Selznick had 'packaged' Spellbound as a property to market to RKO before deciding to produce the film himself. Hitchcock detested being traded as though he were a prize thoroughbred. But he owed Selznick two more pictures under his current contract. Spellbound was one of them.

After initial apprehension Hitchcock persuaded Selznick to purchase the rights to Hilary Saint George Saunder's novel ‘The House of Dr. Edwardes’ for $40,000. Selznick had wanted Hitchcock to make a film about his own life-affirming experiences employing psychoanalysis. In fact, Selznick's own therapist, May Romm is credited as being the film's technical advisor. But Hitchcock had no such intensions. Instead, the director scored a minor coup by having Selznick hire renown painter Salvador Dali to stage the elaborate dream sequence. Hitchcock saw the inclusion of Dali - with his bizarre and clever visual interpretations - as an artistic collaborator. But as far as Selznick was concerned, having Dali (an artist of immense repute) on the marquee translated into considerable cache at the box office.

Spellbound begins in earnest with Constance Petersen (Ingrid Bergman); a somewhat sexually repressed psychotherapist doing her analyses of patients at Green Manors; a country sanitarium. Although Constance's own sexual frigidity becomes the brunt of Dr. Fleurot’s (Jon Emery) cynical humour and flirtations, her romantic life kicks into high gear with the arrival of new chief of staff, Dr. Anthony Edwardes (Gregory Peck) who is replacing retiring head, Dr. Murchison (Leon G. Glenn).

However, certain phobias begin to manifest themselves in Edwardes’ character, drawing Constance romantically closer to him, but at the same time exciting the maternal, as well as her professional instincts to protect Edwardes and get to the bottom of his psychosis. The authorities suspect that Peck's character (rechristened John Brown after it is learned he is not Anthony Edwardes) has murdered the real Anthony Edwardes to assume his identity.

Constance and John escape the police and take a train to her old academic mentor, Dr. Alex Brulov (Michael Chekov) who suggests to John that women make the best psychiatrists until they fall in love. "After that," he explains, "They make the best patients." Determined to break John's repression, Alex and Constance try regression therapy. John recalls being in a gambling house with Edwardes, but the resulting jumble of images (including a curtain full of eyes and a giant wheel tumbling down a snowy incline) only elaborate the mystery at hand.

Constance decides that John needs to be taken back to the last place he remembers being before his blackout: the ski slopes where he assumed Edwardes' identity. But Alex warns her that she is taking a terrible risk. She believes John is innocent of the crime of murdering Edwardes. But what if he is not? Unlocking his repressed memory might force John to kill her too.

At the heart of Spellbound is a romance. Yet John is exonerated from killing Edwardes only after Constance decodes his dream and realizes who the real killer is. Ben Hecht's screenplay deftly exploits her race against time and makes legitimate attempts to sustain the psychoanalytic thread. But the latter is eventually relegated to the backdrop of this glossy and suspenseful romance. Miklos Rozsa's memorable score, complete with its spooky Theremin strains captures the duality of this dangerous love.

Hitchcock’s battles with Selznick on the set of Spellbound were daily and exhausting. At one point the director pleaded with Selznick to buy out the rest of his studio contract and find someone else to complete the film. Selznick retaliated with the threat of a lengthy lawsuit, forcing Hitchcock to finish the film.

Selznick also encountered resistance from Salvador Dali, who had planned an elaborate dream sequence far too costly and much too lengthy for the purpose of the film. Although Hitchcock convinced Dali to reduce his scale – many sequences that were filmed were eventually excised by Selznick to tighten Dali’s meandering symbolism. None of these edits pleased Dali’s artistic sensibilities.

After Spellbound’s premiere, Hitchcock focused his attentions on crafting Notorious. Believing that Spellbound’s narrative still lacked clarity, Selznick pulled the general release print and removed a montage explaining the clinical treatment of patients; effectively eliminating an additional fourteen minutes from the finished feature.

Even after enthusiastic reviews and favorable box office, Selznick seemed dismissive about the final cut, calling it “just another man-hunt wrapped up in pseudo-psychotherapy.” Thankfully, audiences have continued to disagree with this snap assessment. Spellbound is a magnificent thriller. Gregory Peck and Ingrid Bergman have genuine on screen chemistry. Yet, there is a sense of foreboding about their relationship that is sustained until the final fade out. As publicity of its day indicated, "Will he kiss me or kill me?" In the final analysis, Spellbound is compelling entertainment. It retains its allure as pure escapism even if the science behind it has rendered the film's theories about the human mind utterly moot.

MGM/Fox Home Video Blu-ray shows marked improvements over its SD DVD. The image tightens up as it should in 1080p. Contrast levels greatly improved with richer blacks and cleaner whites. But so too does the overall sharpness, clarity and detail in the image improve. The video noise on the DVD translates to an impressive patina of very naturally reproduced film grain. The audio is DTS mono perfectly reproduces the power in Miklos Rozsa's dramatic score.

Extras are all imports from the DVD and include an engrossing audio commentary by Charles Ramirez Berg and Thomas Schatz, an isolated music/effects track, a making of featurette, interview snippets with Hitchcock and Peter Bogdanovich, a featurette on Salvador Dali and galleries dedicated to stills and poster art. Highly recommended!

FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)
4

VIDEO/AUDIO
4.5

EXTRAS
3

DEAD POET'S SOCIETY (Touchstone 1989) Buena Vista Home Video

2012-01-17T16:51:00.003-05:00

Peter Weir’s Dead Poet’s Society (1989) is an emotional ode to those few gallant educators who enter our lives and make the meandering tenure of our youth more rewarding and meaningful because of their stay. Although revered today, at the time of its release Dead Poet's Society garnered several scathing reviews from some of the top film critics in the country; particularly Roger Ebert who suggested in print that he felt like throwing up at the end.

Director Weir chose to shoot the film chronologically, allowing for two weeks of rehearsals before principle photography began in Wilmington Delaware with a then largely unknown cast. In fact, the most recognizable face in the crowd (apart from its star Robin Williams) probably belonged to Norman Lloyd – a popular actor on television’s hospital drama, St. Elsewhere. Herein he is cast as the curmudgeonly rigid Dean of Education, Mr. Noland. By all accounts, the experience of working on this film impacted the fledgling actors in a positive light. Many of them went on to have very lucrative careers afterward.

At every turn, director Weir fought for the actors’ creativity and integrity, instilling a sense of mutual participation that bode well with garnering the best possible performances from all concerned. As example, when actor, Dylan Kussman, cast as Richard Cameron – the Judas of the piece – suggested to Weir that he did not think his character would harbor enough guts or redemption to stand along with his fellow classmates in defiance of their professor’s dismissal, Weir chose to accept Kussman’s logic and allowed the actor to play his scene his way.

The focus of Tom Schulman’s screenplay is seven boys entrusted by their parents to academic pursuits at Weldon, a stuffy prep school circa 1959; introspective Neal Perry (Robert Sean Leonard); introvert Todd Anderson (Ethan Hawke); boastful Knox Overstreet (Josh Charles); gawky Charlie Dalton (Gale Hansen); opinionated conservative Richard Cameron (Dylan Kussman); shy Steven Meeks (Allelon Ruggiero) and outgoing Gerald Pitts (James Waterston). The school’s time honored principles of ‘tradition’, ‘honor’, ‘discipline’ and ‘excellence’ are viewed as slightly confining, though nevertheless necessary to mould boys into men.

Inducted into their grueling academic pursuits, the boys experience a breath of fresh air when newly appointed English professor John Keating (Robin Williams) trashes the rigid structure of the approved curriculum in favor of a more self-exploring and soul-searching investigation of life. Keating’s message is simple; carpe diem or ‘seize the day’.

In one of the best moments in the film derived from Keating’s unorthodox teachings, the professor instructs his students to tear out an essay on understanding poetry from their text books because its mathematically devised scale of appreciation suggests that only through structure can art be fully appreciated – an absurd notion at best. The rest of the film is basically an extension of Keating’s attempts to awaken the boys to their own place in the grand scheme of life; to firmly situate their self worth in the world they will inhabit by making ample use of their hearts as well as their minds.

Keating further introduces his pupils to the Dead Poet’s Society – an extracurricular and transformative experience whereby poetry is read in a darkly lit cave to liberate the soul with pure self expression. Unfortunately, Charlie Dalton takes his new personal freedom too far and publishes an article in the school flyer that proposes girls be allowed to attend classes at Weldon.

This progressive gesture leads to certain repercussions for Dalton and Keating by Dean Nolan. Meanwhile, Neil has decided to become an actor at the local playhouse, something his strict father, Mr. Perry (Kurtwood Smith) is dead set against. Going against his father's wishes, Neil performs as Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, garnering critical praise and a standing ovation. But Neil's moment of elation is thwarted by his own father's unsympathetic failure to even acknowledge him in his performance.

That failure leads to Neil’s tragic suicide. Mr. Perry holds the school in general and Keating in particular responsible for his son's death. Nolan conducts his own investigation into the matter and concludes as much. Keating is relieved of his job but not before his remaining pupils ban together to illustrate for him the lasting impact his teachings have had on all of their lives.

Reportedly, the role of Keating was first offered to Bill Murray, and then Dustin Hoffman. Both turned it down. Today, it is unfathomable to imagine either actor in the role. Robin Williams, so often an actor prone to extremes, offers one of his most sustained and unassumingly sympathetic performances, fairly dripping with the milk of human kindness, compassion and understanding. He is the teacher we all wished for in our youth; the one so few of us actually had.

Perhaps the greatest objection lobbed at the film then was that it didn't 'feel' like a typical Robin Williams movie. Yes, Williams is our star and yes, his contributions are immense. But they are also void of that self-reflective need to spontaneously break out and be 'out and out' hilarious. This film illustrates Robin Williams can act. Stand up comedy will always be his forte. But he proves he can hold his own on the screen without the benefit of razor sharp jokes and scathing one liners. In the end, Dead Poet’s Society is a showcase for Williams’ the actor rather than Williams the comedian and this is as it should be, and furthermore, all to the good.

Well, it's about time Buena Vista Home Video began revisiting its Touchstone catalogue on Blu-ray. If only the results were a little more forthcoming on this disc we would truly have a good reason to celebrate. I can't exactly say what's wrong with this transfer, although something definitely is. Colors are not very bold or vibrant and the image tends to look a tad thick. Flesh tones are pasty pink or slightly orange. Never do they appear natural. Fine detail is present and occasionally the image looks as it should - sharp with solid film grain present. But there are too many scenes that exhibit a rather soft quality with undistinguished tonality. Blacks, browns, dark grays and dark blues all translate to a muddy deep brownish mess.

If I had to guess I'd say this isn't a true 1080p remastering effort but the old DVD transfer merely bumped up to a 1080p signal. For those who haven't seen the film in a long while, there won't be anything to disappoint them herein. The image is much improved over older versions available on DVD and (of course) VHS. But for those who own the SE DVD issued a few years ago there is precious little to recommend an upgrade to Blu-ray.

The audio has been repurposed to DTS but sounds very like the old 5.1 Dolby Digital DVD mix. This is a dialogue driven movie and there are no real moments to accurately assess the sonic spread of effects and music. Extras are all direct imports from the SE DVD and include a rather haphazardly slapped together documentary in which most of the actors associated with the project (save Robin Williams) are allowed to aimlessly spout off about their impressions while working on the film. Ethan Hawke can’t remember much of anything associated with the production. There’s also another brief featurette about scoring the film and the original theatrical trailer.

FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)
4

VIDEO/AUDIO
3

EXTRAS
2.5

REBECCA: Blu-ray (Selznick International 1940) MGM/Fox Home Video

2012-01-16T14:46:00.001-05:00

Despite being disavowed in later years by the master of suspense as "not a Hitchcock film", Rebecca (1940) remains the only movie made by the master to win a Best Picture Oscar. An oversight on the part of AMPAS perhaps. But it may also indicate just how close to perfect Hitchcock came his first time out in Hollywood. Afforded all the lavishness of resources that producer David O. Selznick could provide (and more meddling along the way than Hitch' expected and that created a friction in artistic temperaments) the master of suspense was forced by Selznick to adhere to a strict literary adaptation of Daphne Du Maurier's celebrated novel. And it is saying much of both Hitchcock and Selznick that the resulting film illustrates a melding (rather than a clash) of their creative ideas and wills.

The arrival of Hitchcock in Hollywood began innocently enough with a personal invitation from Selznick to work on a movie adaptation of the ill-fated Titanic. Arguably, Selznick had zero interest in this project – despite purchasing The Leviathan (a rusty liner whose resemblance to the Titanic was uncanny). However, Selznick knew that the project was of considerable interest to Hitchcock and Selznick wanted Hitchcock under contract. Installed in a comfortable bungalow with precious little to do, Hitchcock’s dismay was somewhat quelled when he and Selznick finally agreed on Rebecca (1940) as their first collaborative effort. The author of the novel was not only greatly admired by Hitchcock - she was also a close personal friend.

To say that Hitchcock was wholly unprepared for the omnipotent and intrusive way that Selznick ran his studio is perhaps an understatement. Selznick always considered himself more a collaborator than a mogul. And he was acutely aware that the film being released was 'A Selznick Picture' directed by Alfred Hitchcock. On the set of Rebecca, Hitchcock found himself taking ‘advise’ from Selznick (something he was not used to).

But this was Hollywood - not England. As yet unproven to American audiences, Hitchcock took his cues and marching orders from Selznick, sometimes almost willingly, at other times with quiet apprehensiveness. As example: Hitchcock was not at all thrilled to have Joan Fontaine foisted on him by Selznick as the film's heroine. But she was the right choice, a virtual unknown to film audiences despite having broken into movies the year before. Eventually Hitchcock came to appreciate Fontaine's contributions, so much that he would choose to work with her again on Suspicion a year later.

Rebecca is essentially Bronte’s Jane Eyre set in modern times. While vacationing with her paid companion, Edythe Van Hopper (Florence Bates) in Monte Carlo a young nameless waif (Joan Fontaine) marries aristocrat, Maxim de Winter (Lawrence Olivier). For a while Maxim and his new bride are divinely happy. He sees in her all the unspoiled sweetness and feminine purity lacking in his own superficial existence.

However, upon returning to Maxim’s home, the foreboding seaside estate - Manderly - the presence of Maxim’s first wife – the haughty Rebecca - begins to intrude on the couple’s marital serenity. It seems that everyone from Maxim’s sister, Beatrice Lacey (Gladys Cooper) to the matronly, yet unsettlingly cold housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers (Judith Anderson) will not allow Rebecca’s memory to fade. Feeling stifled in her new home, the second Mrs. de Winter (never named in either the novel or film) decides to throw a lavish costume ball to resurrect the glory and grandeur of the old days at Manderly.

However, her plans go horribly awry when she arrives at the ball costumed the same as Rebecca the previous year; in a gown deliberately chosen for her by Mrs. Danvers. This similarity sends Maxim into a rage and he orders his wife to go upstairs and change. She and Mrs. Danvers have a confrontation in Rebecca’s bedroom and Danvers attempts to brainwash the bride into committing suicide.

Instead, the discovery of a shipwreck off Manderly’s coast leads to another sunken vessel located with Rebecca’s remains aboard. Maxim further complicates matters when he confides in his wife that he knew all along the body was there. “How did you know?” she asks. “Because I put it there,” Maxim explains.

This filmic revelation is an alteration to the original novel. In print, du Maurier's hero is also a murderer; Maxim has killed Rebecca in a fit of rage after she reveals to him that she is pregnant with another man’s child. Selznick, a purist when adapting literary works, utterly detested making this revision. It was imposed on him by the Production Code.

Hence, what ought to have been a moment of shocking revelation in the film is instead slightly anticlimactic. Yet, Olivier’s powerful oration of that tragic moment when Rebecca accidentally strikes her head on ship’s tackle, leaving Maxim to cover up the body, is expertly played and even more sublimely executed by Hitchcock's first person camera work.

Exonerated from any wrong doing at a public inquest, Maxim hurries home to his new wife whom he realizes he truly loves, only to discover that Mrs. Danvers has gone mad and torched his beloved Manderly – presumably with his new wife inside. After a frantic search the lovers are reunited on the front lawn just in time to witness Mrs. Danvers demise.

For the final shot Selznick had wanted the smoke from the burning mansion to form the letter 'R' high above the flames. Hitchcock balked at this decidedly tacky idea. Instead, a compromise was achieved. The camera tracks in amidst the harrowing blaze inside Rebecca's bedroom, coming on a close up on an embroidered pillowcase on Rebecca's bed that is eventually consumed by the flames.

As Hitchcock’s American entrée, Rebecca is impressive to say the least. In hindsight, Selznick’s constant badgering through memos, revisions and input has strengthened and tightened the novel’s loose construction. And although Selznick's 'suggestions' would eventually cause a rift between the two collaborators - with each going their separate ways - Hitchcock's meticulous planning and technical craftsman was not always as well served at other studios after he and Selznick parted company.

On the heels of Selznick’s Gone With The Wind (1939), Rebecca proved a valiant successor, incredibly popular with audiences. It received near unanimous critical praise and accolades. Today, the film retains much of its big screen magnificence. The screenplay by Robert E. Sherwood and Joan Harrison deftly condenses the novel's rambling plot. Franz Waxman's brooding score provides an unsettling backdrop full of curious tensions. Lyle Wheeler's art direction captures the moody grandeur of Manderly - itself a character in both the novel and the movie.

And then, of course, there is the cast. Olivier is superb as the emotionally distraught/guilt-ridden man about town who cannot disentangle himself from his sordid past. Fontaine gives what is probably the best performance of her career as the nameless second wife. She embodies all the fragile insecurities and tender apprehensions of a wallflower thrust into the lap of luxuries she does not understand but is desperate to appreciate.

However, the standout performance in the movie remains Judith Anderson's demonic housekeeper. Here is a character so brutally wicked, so utterly trapped by her memories of the past, that her sense of self is in a state of malignant decay - eaten away by the acidic presence of her first mistress. Anderson chills us to the bone with her take on this incomprehensibly evil, yet strangely lost, creature. Danvers self destructs before our very eyes and her spiral into insanity is terrifyingly conveyed.

In the final analysis, Rebecca is a great movie - period. It is a Hitchcock picture; perhaps not the one Hitchcock would have made if left to his own devices, but nevertheless fraught with Hitchcockian touches that make our skin crawl with suspense-laden delight. This is what story telling on celluloid is all about!

MGM/Fox Home Video’s Blu-ray of Rebecca slightly bests both the previous Criterion and Anchor Bay Home Video DVD editions with a few minor caveats. First, I don't believe MGM/Fox has gone back to the drawing board for a true 1080p upgrade. Second, like the Criterion DVD edition, the MGM/Fox release substitutes a title card with ‘Rebecca’ in capital letters, rather than the ‘signature’ hand written script that appeared as the actual title credit in 1940 (and on all subsequent poster and campaign art related to the film). To date, only the Anchor Bay release contains this proper title credit.

Third, like the Criterion DVD – the isolated music and effects track contained on this Blu-ray uses a substitute piece of music for the scene where Maxim and the second Mrs. DeWinter arrive at Manderly for the first time. Frankly, I am at a loss to explain these oversights on an otherwise impeccable mastering effort.

Predictably, the Blu-ray improves on the image quality where film grain is concerned. There's more of it and it looks very film like - not gritty or digitized or with excessive DNR applied. The gray scale tightens up slightly, and contrast darkens a tad. But fine details are not any sharper this time out than on the DVD and this is a definite sign that a new 1080p master has not been employed for this Blu-ray release. Also, the slight instability in the image that was evident during the first three minutes of the aforementioned DVD release continues on the Blu-ray upgrade. Otherwise, this is a very fine presentation of a great classic film. The audio is mono and adequately represented.

Extras are all imports from MGM/Fox's DVD and include a thoroughly informative audio commentary by Richard Schickel, the aforementioned isolated music/effects track, extensive galleries of art and stills, two featurettes; one on the making of the film and the other on author, Daphne Du Maurier and three radio broadcasts of Rebecca as a play. Good stuff all around.

Aside: even though I am endorsing this Blu-ray upgrade, my advice is to hold onto or acquire the Anchor Bay DVD (now out of print but available through private collectors) for authenticity. To date it remains the only version of Rebecca to include the film's original 'signature' title credit. Recommended!

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

VIDEO/AUDIO
Blu-ray 4
Anchor Bay DVD 3.5

EXTRAS
3.5

SEABISCUIT: Blu-ray (Universal/Dreamworks 2003) Universal Home Video

2012-01-13T10:51:00.002-05:00

Hollywood has always loved an underdog. There's just something intuitively 'feel good' about conquering adversity and director Gary Ross’ Seabiscuit (2003) - based on Laura Hillenbrand’s novel – is a rather rousing tribute to just such a four-legged victor and his rider conquering the raceway.

Immediately following the real Seabiscuit’s victorious Santa Anita race, author B. K. Beckwith published Seabiscuit: The Saga of a Great Champion. In 1949 the horse’s exploits were further immortalized on celluloid in the Shirley Temple classic The Story of Seabiscuit. But it was Ralph Moody’s 1963 book Come On Seabiscuit that served as the inspiration for Laura Hillenbrand 2001 novel, Seabiscuit: An American Legend on which this film is based.

The real life story of this legendary animal and its ability to rally a Depression-worn nation to its feet is worth noting. Seabiscuit began life as a knobby-kneed lazy pony on Claiborne Farm where he was trained by Sunny Jim Fitzsimmons (Shay Duffin in the film). The horse was frequently subjected to smaller, more grueling races where he invariably finished dead last.

In truth, there was nothing in Seabiscuit’s history to warrant the success that was to follow. After a few intense, though lackluster seasons, the horse was sold to automobile entrepreneur Charles S. Howard (Jeff Bridges in the film) for $8,000. Something of a would-be maverick, Howard’s faith in the future was unshakeable.

Assigned to trainer Tom Smith (Chris Cooper) for conditioning, Seabiscuit gradually began to respond, particularly after Smith paired him with Canadian jockey, Red Pollard (Toby McGuire). The team won Detroit’s prestigious Governor’s Handicap and the Scarsdale Handicap in the same year.

Howard and Smith next shipped the horse to California where his last two races of the year set a time only two fifths of a second off the world record. By 1937, the men turned their attentions to California's most prestigious horse race. Although Seabiscuit managed to win the qualifying meet, he was bumped at the start of the actual competition, finishing an abysmal fifth.

In the film, Seabiscuit’s failure is attributed to Pollard’s error and his loss of sight in one eye after a boxing match. In actuality, Pollard lost his sight in a riding accident. It is highly unlikely this impacted his ability to command the horse during the race as he had done so many times before under the same personal handicap. Despite the loss, Seabiscuit had already become the darling favorite amongst Californian racing fans.

After winning three subsequent races in short order, Howard relocated the horse to the Eastern racing circuit where Seabiscuit’s victories continued unabated. Of the 15 races entered, Seabiscuit rode to victory in 11 – the premiere money-maker of 1937. On the west coast, he was a fanatical favorite on radio, in newsreels and in the stands.

A businessman at heart, Howard quickly cashed in on this obsession with a complete line of merchandise. However, a tragic accident involving Pollard forced Howard to recast Seabiscuit’s rider with George Woolf (Gary Stevens), in a race that now seems doomed from the start – one that was eventually lost.

Throughout 1937 and 1938 it was rumored that Seabiscuit would challenge the reigning champion, War Admiral. For one reason or another this meet never occurred and Pollard – who had attempted a comeback aboard another horse – suffered yet another setback when his leg was shattered during a training session.

A match race against Ligaroti – a prized pony belonging to singer Bing Crosby proved victorious, but of the three additional outings that same year, Seabiscuit won only one. Then, in November of 1938, the inevitable match between Seabiscuit and War Admiral at Pimlico was set. Admiral was decidedly the betting favorite. But Seabiscuit had won the heart of the crowd and, in an unprecedented recovery, beat the established champion by four clear lengths. He was voted 1938’s Horse of the Year.

Unfortunately, during a qualifying meet, Seabiscuit ruptured a suspensor ligament in his front left leg. The recovery period for the horse coincided with Red Pollard’s own mending and together, the two began to re-bond on the race course. Initially plagued by nightmares from his riding accident, Pollard eventually gained the confidence required to sit on a horse again.

Howard was adverse to allow Pollard his ride. But the jockey’s persistence eventually won the entrepreneur over. After all, the original team of Pollard and Seabiscuit made for great copy in the newspapers. After an unremarkable start, rider and horse conquered the San Antonio Handicap and then, in an unfathomable feat Seabiscuit won the prestigious Santa Anita Handicap and its $121,000 grand prize; a glorious finale to a truly remarkable career.

The following year, Howard announced Seabiscuit’s retirement from professional racing to a cushy stall at Ridgewood Ranch in California where he would eventually sire 108 foals – none as successful as he had been on the racing circuit. Seven years later, Seabiscuit died, his burial kept in secret by all except the immediate Howard family. However, on June 23, 2007 a statue was erected at Ridgewood in honor of the horse that nobody had initially wanted.

The film exacts its usual pound or two of artistic license on the historical record, condensing and/or omitting less dramatic portions and occasionally fabricating history to suit its own end. Interestingly enough, the final climactic race is something of a cinematic let down despite Seabiscuit’s victory – somehow unfulfilled in its celebratory summation of this great racer’s career.

Ross’ direction and screenplay are solid, as are the performances from all concerned. Yet, the love affair between man and his ride is somewhat relegated to secondary status amidst a seemingly endless montage of racing footage and the well-constructed triage of humans – Howard, Pollard and Smith – who inspire and feed off one another’s accomplishments. In the final analysis, Seabiscuit is a beautifully crafted exercise in the re-creation of a bygone era. As pure melodrama however, it tends to leave something to be desired.

Universal's re-issue of Seabiscuit on Blu-ray as part of their 100th anniversary perfectly captures John Schwartzman's evocative cinematography. Colors are rich and detailed. Flesh tones are very nicely rendered. Contrast levels are bang on with deep blacks and very clean, crisp whites. Fine details are evident throughout, even during the darkest scenes. Film grain looks very natural and the overall image is smooth and satisfying. The DTS audio is appropriately aggressive with superior spatial spread. Extras include a brief featurette on the making of the film as well as authentic newsreel footage of Seabiscuit’s victories immortalized on celluloid. Recommended!

FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)
3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO
4.5

EXTRAS
3

FAST TIMES AT RIDGEMONT HIGH: Blu-ray (Universal 1982) Universal Home Video

2012-01-13T10:13:00.002-05:00

The soft-core teen sex farce, with its interminably heavy handed insertion of pop tunes and pointlessly plodding vignettes, is on full display in Amy Heckerling's Fast Times At Ridgemont High (1982); a mindless claptrap dedicated to a certain element of growing up too fast in a culture worshipping sex, drugs and rock and roll. The screenplay by Cameron Crowe (based on his book) tries too hard to be revealing, poignant and funny. It's none of the above.

Even in '82 I remember thinking to myself that this wasn't a very good movie about how teenagers really behaved. Unlike director John Hughes, who treats his pubescent ensembles as though they have both minds and hearts, the characters that populate Heckerling's tableau are merely oversexed cardboard cut outs - extreme stereotypes unrealistically portrayed in gratuitous nudie scenes and salaciously ill timed/bad taste comedy.

Crowe's script is very loosely concerned with nineteen year old Stacy Hamilton (Jennifer Jason Leigh) who is determined to lose her virginity before she turns twenty. Stacy works at the mall food court with her girlfriend, Linda Barrett (Phoebe Cates). Linda wastes no time regaling Stacy with her own sexual exploits and teaching her the finer mechanics of filacio using a carrot as her...uh...prop.

Stacy meets 26 year old audio specialist and resident mallrat heartthrob, Ron Johnson (D.W. Brown) at her place of work. The two are quickly acquainted. After Stacy sneaks out of her house to meet Ron at a secluded dugout she has her first sexual encounter. It will be her last with Ron, whose M.O. is apparently boinking virgins.

Wallflower movie usher Mark Ratner (Brian Backer) worships Stacy from afar. He confides his feelings to his best friend, Mike Damone (Robert Romanus), a bookie/ticket scalper who encourages Mark to ask Stacy out on a date. Meanwhile, Stacy's brother, Brad (Judge Reinhold) is seriously thinking of breaking up with his girlfriend, Lisa (Amanda Wyss) to expand his own sexual horizons. Lisa beats Brad to the punch line, however. After Brad is fired from his menial fast food job he aimlessly bounces from one job to the next, disillusioned about his future.

The one character yet to be introduced into this narrative is inexplicably the star of the film; Jeff Spicoli (Sean Penn), a playfully drugged out California surfer dude totally oblivious to authority figures and completely out of step with all but two of his fellow burnouts (Eric Stoltz and Anthony Edwards). Spicoli incurs the wrath of U.S. history teacher Mr. Hand (Ray Walston) by being chronically late to his class and later ordering cheese pizza during one of the lessons.

Spicoli borrows the snazzy silver sports car of bull-headed varsity jock Charles Jefferson (Forrest Witaker) without his knowledge, then accidentally trashes it. To avoid Charles wrath, Spicoli leaves the wreckage parked on campus, spray-painting slurs all over its smashed frame that, presumably, have been put there by Lincoln High School's rival football team. The rouse works and Charles - fueled with uncontainable rage - demolishes Lincoln's football team on the field during the playoffs.

Eventually, Stacy's awakened sexual appetite migrates to Mike who takes thirty seconds to shoot his wad inside a pool house change room. Short seduction, perhaps, but one that is long on consequences. Stacy becomes pregnant. She tells Mike about the baby. But he is unable to call in enough of his markers to pay for the abortion. Instead, he chickens out and leaves Stacy waiting for a ride to the free clinic.

Stacy lies to Brad who drives her to the bowling alley - presumably for a date with Mike - before crossing the street to the free clinic where she has the abortion anyway. Brad, however, is no fool. He sees Stacy go into the clinic and thereafter becomes a sympathetic brother. Mark and Mike have a falling out over Stacy that almost leads to blows inside the locker room. Eventually, the chums reconcile and Stacy decides to hook up with Mark who really loves her.

Viewed today Fast Times At Ridgemont High is a painfully obtuse exploitation of teenage stereotypes. Sean Penn's drug happy surfer, Forest Witaker's mindless jock, Brian Backer and Rob Romanus' painful preppies, etc. etc. But even these stereotypes are disingenuous. As a teenager I could never relate to these characters. They were just too empty headed, soulless and odd.

Even more disconcerting is the rather devil-may-care way basic human decencies are discarded. The one exception is Jeff Spicoli. Although given preciously little to do in the script, there is something in Sean Penn's performance to suggest that beneath his Kowabunga, narly passion for surfing and Playboy centerfolds lurks a sad, stunted and somewhat scared little boy yearning to be a man. As a teen I clued into that. But as an adult even Spicoli seems void of good reasons for either my sympathy or respect.

The film treats such serious topics as car accidents, chronic drug abuse, unprotected casual sex and abortion as though they were merely harmless fun; a predictable part of growing up. Granted, Fast Times at Ridgemont High is billed as a comedy. But it really is more of a holdover from the '70s vein in stupid human behavior (a la Animal House 1978). Whenever Crowe's script paints its characters into a narrative corner (which it does a lot) the film relies on a snippet of an 80's pop tune to transition from one scene to the next. So much for continuity.

Every studio made teen comedies throughout the 1980s. But unlike some of the more enduring examples in the genre (Teachers, Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink) Fast Times at Ridgemont High really doesn't hold up, perhaps because it rarely holds the conscience of its own characters in high regard.

Universal has chosen to re-release its Blu-ray, repackaged as part of their 100th Anniversary celebration. The 1080p picture exhibits good colour fidelity (preserving its dated patina of 80s film stock) and a considerable amount of film grain that looks like grain and not digitized grit. Fine details are evident, particularly in close ups. Flesh tones are very natural. Contrast levels are bang on. Age related artefacts are present but extremely rare. This is a fine rendering that will surely not disappoint.

The DTS remastering gives the 80s pop songs a bombast that the dialogue portions of the film lack. Dialogue is frontal sounding with little spatial separation, but hey - such were the early Dolby stereo tracks back in the day. Let's just say this is a faithful reproduction of the way the film sounded in theaters then. Extras are limited to an audio commentary and a documentary that looks back at the film and its impact.

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

EXTRAS

THE BROTHERS KARAMAZOV (MGM/Avon Productions 1958) Warner Archive Collection

2012-01-12T10:10:00.003-05:00

Richard Brooks could be an exacerbating individual; relentlessly unsympathetic to his actors and crew. But no one can deny he was one hell of a great director, and he proves it again with The Brothers Karamazov (1958); an exuberant adaptation of Fyodor Dolstoyevsky's epic novel of familial greed. Brooks penchant for telling stories with a strong social commentary excels at extolling the flawed - and occasionally ruptured - relationships between four male heirs to a family fortune.

It took the author two years to compose the novel, a passionate philosophical debate about God, man's perceptions of his own free will and the godless way he conducts himself to suit his own (im)morality. Dolstoyevsky always intended the book to be part of a masterwork entitled The Life of a Great Sinner. But he died a scant four months after his book was published.

For the film, director Brooks assumes a daunting task: to translate philosophy into a tangible visual medium. Overall, he succeeds, possibly because Brooks could see much of his own inner demons being exercised in the novel. Brooks, who also wrote the screenplay, has achieved a minor coup. He has made Dolstoyevsky's prose concretely visual.

The film begins in earnest with monk, Alexi Karamazov (William Shatner) in search of his lecherous father Fyodor Pavlovich (Lee J. Cobb) to reclaim a payment owed his eldest brother, Lieutenant Dmitri Karamazov (Yul Brynner). Alexi finds Fyodor at home, indulging in a violent orgy with tavern owner, Agrafena Alexandrovna Svetlova Grushenka (Maria Schell). Although the Karamazov's patriarch is entertaining thoughts of marriage, the fiery Grushenka does not share in them.

Dmitri has offered to pay a debt to save the reputation of a prominent local family in Ryevsk for the elegant Katya (Claire Bloom) with the promise that she will become his mistress as remuneration. Very reluctantly, and bitterly, Katya agrees to these terms. But Dmitri has had a change of heart. Katya is an honourable woman. Instead of seduction, Dmitri offers her the money as a gift she gratefully accepts. Moments later Dmitri is arrested by the army police for a brawl he had earlier in the evening. A few months later Katya visits Dmitri in prison with overwhelming news.

Her grandmother has died and left the entirety of her estate to Katya, primarily because she never learned of the disgraceful debt the family owed. In the interim Katya has fallen hopelessly in love with Dmitri and, upon learning his fate, has come to pledge herself wholeheartedly in marriage to him. However, Dmitri has recognized a fundamental flaw in his own character. He is his father's son - prone to wanton revelry and devil-may-care debaucheries that would make Katya a most unhappy wife.

Nevertheless, Katya pursues Dmitri upon his release from prison. The Karamazov's middle son, philosopher Ivan (Richard Basehart) is instantly smitten with her. But his influence at home is most strongly felt by their father's bastard son, Pavel Smerdjakov (Albert Salmi) who has taken Ivan's published works to heart. Ivan does not believe in God or the law. They do not exist. Lawlessness is a myth perpetrated by the state to control its populace. Presiding over this motley brood is house servant Grigori (Edgar Stehli) who has been like a second father to the boys. He has watched powerless as their father's lifestyle has infected the entire family's welfare; financial, moral and spiritual.

Dmitri returns home to demand that his father pay out the rest of their mother's inheritance owed to him. He is refused and later rebuked when Fyodor enters into an unholy alliance with Grushenka to buy up Dmitri's debts, then have him arrested for not being able to repay them. Grushenka sends Captain Snegiryov (David Opatoshu) to arrest Dmitri. Instead, Dmitri confronts the aged officer with a challenge. Snegiryov begs for his life in front of his young son, Ilyusha (Miko Oscard) who bitterly declares that he will never forgive Dmitri for his father's humiliation.

Dmitri learns of the plot against him from Snegiryov and confronts Grushenka at a skating party. His initial plan is to use money given to him by Katya to pay off his debts. Instead, Dmitri falls under Grushenka's spell and throws a wild party in her honour at the tavern. Grushenka falls in love with Dmitri and this hardens Katya's heart.

Hence, when Dmitri is accused of murdering his own father, Katya seizes on the moment to cast her word against him by exposing the debt of money owed to her. Prompted by Alexi, Ivan confronts Smerdjakov who gleefully confessing to murdering the elder Karamazov by striking him with a poker from the fireplace. Smerdjakov declares that it was Ivan's writing and opinions that gave him the impetus to plot his crime. Assuming responsibility for the crime, Ivan and his half brother struggle. But Ivan cannot bring himself to kill his father's killer. Instead he declares that Smerdjakov will confess his crime, not only because it is a crime, but to save Dmitri from spending the rest of his life in prison.

Smerdjakov's faith in the faithless Ivan is shattered. Ivan returns several hours later with Grushenka and policemen to arrest Smerdjakov, only to find that he has hanged himself rather than face prosecution. The next day Ivan attempts to testify in court as to what Smerdjakov told him. But the judges are unconvinced and unsympathetic. They find Dmitri guilty of murder. Yet, as the prisoners are led in chains onto a train bound for the work camp, Ivan observes that Dmitri is not among them. Katya demands to know what has happened to him, but Ivan is silent, joining Alexi, Dmitri and Grushenka in a carriage bound for the border.

At the last possible moment, Dmitri demands that they stop at Capt. Snegiryov's home where Ilyusha lies very ill. Dmitri begs Snegiryov to pardon his challenge, thereby restoring Ilyusha's faith in, and love for, his father - emotions Dmitri always lacked towards his own. The carriage pulls into the night, presumably with Dmitri and Grushenka bound for a better life together abroad.

The Brothers Karamazov is a superior filmic adaptation of an extremely complex novel. Clearly, Richard Brooks has done his homework. The script is literate without being a literal translation of the novel. Necessary excisions to accommodate the time constraints of a motion picture have been made. But these never blunt the impact of the novel's philosophical debates. Brooks screenplay captures the essence of the novel without being essentially bound by its weighty narrative.

And then there is the cast to consider; a magnificent roster with not a false performance among them. Yul Brynner is a powerful and commanding presence in the film, as is Lee J. Cobb. Richard Basehart - an actor sadly underrated in his own, as well as our, time - is exceptional as the godless cynic who is converted by the final reel. Albert Salmi, an actor that I must confess I had never heard of before, is absolutely chilling as the prodigal with secretive bloodthirsty desires to cleanse himself of his illegitimate past. Even William Shatner's pious monk is delivered with reverence. Both Maria Schell and Claire Bloom give noteworthy performances as opposing depictions of womanhood inexplicably drawn to the same flawed men.

The Brothers Karamazov also benefits from the many gifted craftsmen working behind the camera. Bronislau Kaper's score is expert and manages to capture the raw tension, fiery obsession and carnal aliveness of the piece. John Alton's impressionist cinematography is a perfect compliment, creating a sort of colour coded claustrophobia that draws the viewer into the darkening malaise that has enveloped this family. Walter Plunkett's costume design is understated. The clothes don't speak for the characters, but add their own social commentary about the Imperial caste system. In the last analysis, The Brothers Karamazov is an exceptional cinematic achievement. It excels at sustaining Dolstoyevsky's high ideals while creating its own equally immersive high drama.

Frankly, it is beyond me how Warner Home Video could have allowed this memorable classic to go the way of its Archive MOD DVD program. The Brothers Karamazov is most definitely deserving of a fully restored Blu-ray release. Having said that, the MOD DVD is not all that bad. Colour fidelity is a little weaker than expected. The film was photographed on single strip Eastman stock and has begun to show subtle signs of vinegar syndrome. Flesh tones are pasty. Reds are more orangey.

Contrast levels are very good. The image is occasionally 'thick' with a loss of fine detail. There are no digital anomalies to speak of, and age related artefacts are kept to a bare minimum. On the whole these shortcomings will not detract from the story. The audio is mono and adequately presented. The only extra is a theatrical trailer. Highly recommended!

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

3.5

EXTRAS

GREEN DOLPHIN STREET (MGM 1947) Warner Archive Collection

2012-01-11T15:55:00.003-05:00

Throughout the late 1930s, and well into the 1950s, MGM had a great affinity for period costume melodrama. Part of the studio's enthusiasm for turning great literary masterworks into living tableaus on film had to do with L.B. Mayer's idea of maintaining artistic prestige. But more to the point, it was a way for Hollywood's raja to hold his master craftsmen and artisans up to the rest of the world while politely thumbing his nose at his competition.

Frankly, throughout the first two decades of the talkies, there was no competition in Hollywood or elsewhere for this sort of consistent striving for grandeur. MGM had a magic all its own. Its back lots, capturing the essence of virtually every European and Asian landscape known to man, were second to none as was the studio's immense and ever expanding roster of star talent. Hence the costume epic, with its myriad of extras and gargantuan set pieces seemed tailor-made for the MGM treatment.

All of MGM's riches are evident in Victor Saville's production of Green Dolphin Street (1947); a lumbering would-be costume epic that, even in all its resplendent wonderment, tragically does not come together as it should. The film's chief weakness is its meandering screenplay by Samson Raphaelson (based on Elizabeth Goudge's sprawling novel) that spends far too much time developing the first third of the novel's pretext, before quickly scampering through a series of elephantine - but decidedly disjointed - vignettes (an earthquake, a flood, a cannibal attack, etc.).

Casting is another hurdle not entirely or successfully overcome. Green Dolphin Street stars Lana Turner as Marianne Patourel, the haughty young daughter of Sophie (Gladys Cooper) and Octavius (Edmund Gwenn). Sophie was once madly in love with Dr. Edmond Ozanne (Frank Morgan). But his youthful carousing soured their chances for a life together. Now, after a period of self imposed exile the good doctor has returned to the small French hamlet with his son, William (the painfully wooden and emotionally unappealing Richard Hart).

Marianne and her sister, Marguerite (Donna Reed) pay a call on the Ozannes. And although Marianne is quite captivated by William she dismisses him quite boldly, incurring his temporary wrath. One thing is for certain. Marguerite is in love with William at first sight, but completely unable to usurp or rival her sister's verbalization of her own emotions. Marguerite allows Marianne (who is obtuse to her sister's passions) to pursue William. Marianne even convinces her father to finance William's career as a maritime officer in his majesty's navy, then pushes William to accept his commission.

William does as he is told, particularly after a tete a tete with Captain O'Hara (Reginald Owen) the commander of 'The Green Dolphin' - a sea faring vessel that makes regular trips to New Zealand. Meanwhile, in another part of town Timothy Haslam (Van Heflin) has his eye on Marianne for his own, even though he has already begun an affair with Corrine (Ramsay Ames). After Corrine's brother wounds Haslam in a knife fight he is patched together by the sympathetic doctor and ushered onto the Green Dolphin to avoid incarceration for the brawl.

William sails with his regiment to the Orient. But once on foreign soil he is quickly drugged by a Chinese coolie (Tetsu Komai) and his enterprising daughter (Lila Leeds) who steal all his money before leaving him badly beaten on the docks. As William's own ship has sailed without him he is now considered a deserter to the crown. He cannot return home. Nevertheless, Captain O'Hara comes to William's aid.

O'Hara takes William to New Zealand where he becomes reacquainted with the exiled Haslam, now a successful trader, running a lucrative lumber mill. William and Haslam gradually become good friends and business partners. After a night of carousing, William inadvertently writes for Marianne's (not Marguerite) hand in marriage.

The defiant Marianne, thirsty for travel, excitement and William's companionship above all else sails to New Zealand, leaving Marguerite heartbroken back in France. Confessing her love of Edmond to her husband and daughter Sophie dies peacefully at home and a broken hearted Octavius takes his own life. These are dark days for Marguerite, who finally comes to seek spiritual guidance from Mother Superior (Dame May Whitty) and the sisters of a nearby convent.

In New Zealand Marianne and William are married. Although Haslam is as ever in love with her, he contains his emotions and keep them secret from both William and Marianne. The couple have a daughter, Veronica (Gigi Perreau). During these years William and Haslam's lumber mills thrive. But a devastating earthquake and catastrophic flood put a period to their venture. Retreating further inland Haslam, William, Marianne and Veronica find themselves at the center of a tribal war that nearly costs them their lives. Haslam manages to finagle their release from captivity and certain death. Not long afterward, the friends migrate to a Dutch colony where they thrive as sheep farmers.

Marianne diligently works to gain a pardon from the Royal Navy for William, then suggests that it is time for all of them to go home. But the years have withered Haslam's desire to retire to France. He elects to stay behind. After bittersweet farewells William and his family return to France and move into Marianne's ancestral home. Unfortunately, Marianne discovers a letter William wrote a long time ago to Marguerite that professes his undying love for her. Believing that her entire marriage has been a lie, Marianne falls into a dark and bitter depression, one that is quelled when Marguerite confides in her that she no longer desires William for herself, but has instead decided to become a nun.

Green Dolphin Street makes valiant strides and many attempts to become an epic on par with Gone With The Wind (the original trailer for the film even suggests as much). But the film suffers from too much scenery and not enough business to keep the entire enterprise afloat. At 141 minutes it does its best to condense Goudge's weighty novel into a manageable screenplay, yet fails to attend to the more poignant bits of business between characters that might have made this story of love and sacrifice live beyond the footlights.

As I mentioned before, the script is only half the problem. The other half is in the casting - or miscasting, I should say. Although Green Dolphin Street's roster contains stellar performers who have all proven themselves more than worthy of their craft elsewhere, each is an ill fit for the characters they play in this particular film.

Lana Turner is too brittle as the headstrong Marianne; too much vinegar in her veins to ever be believed as a woman of passion for anyone but herself. Her haughty and overly exaggerated mannerisms bury the lugubrious Richard Hart, whose performance is both mediocre and utterly void of any sort of romantic spark. Van Heflin and Donna Reed are cardboard cut outs, characters so one dimensional that they are wholly absent of sustaining our attention or garnering our praise.

The film cannot be discounted altogether. Green Dolphin Street does have its pluses - chiefly in George J. Folsey's starkly beautiful cinematography and Cedric Gibbons/Malcolm Brown's first rate art direction. A. Arnold Gillespie's special effects are equally impressive. His earthquake and flood sequences are realistic and utterly terrifying to behold.

Still, Bronislau Kaper's score does not particularly serve the intimacy of the story. In fact, it seems too melodramatic and over the top - incomprehensibly swelling to a garish clash of symbols and strings at even the slightest hint of either a kiss or a tragedy on the horizon. Walter Plunkett's costumes are lavishly tailored, but tend to swamp their female protagonists under yards of skirt and crinolines. In the final analysis, Green Dolphin Street is a gargantuan undertaking that is unable to sustain its status as an epic. It's big and bold and given the MGM class 'A' treatment from top to bottom. But the results are more middling than mesmerizing.

The same cannot be said for Warner's Archive MOD DVD. The efforts put forth on this remastering effort yield a rich and varied B&W image with strong tonality. The gray scale has been superbly rendered. Certain scenes have a slightly 'thick' characteristic, but on the whole this presentation winningly preserves the gorgeous cinematography with minimal age related artefacts peppered throughout. There are no edge enhancement or other digital anomalies to speak of.

The audio is mono and I must say something seems slightly off between the balancing of dialogue and music. The dialogue is soft but audible while the music explodes at varying intervals with a bombast quite uncharacteristic for a film of this vintage. Hiss and pop are kept to a minimum but the discrepancies between loud and soft is odd. The only extra is a theatrical trailer.

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

3.5

EXTRAS

NEVER BEEN KISSED: Blu-ray (20th Century-Fox 1999) Fox Home Video

2012-01-10T16:12:00.002-05:00

Not since John Hughes' Pretty in Pink' has a movie about the joyous angst of being a teenager been so aptly expressed as in Raja Gosnell’s Never Been Kissed (1999); a rather delightful romantic/comedy that satisfies everyone’s wish fulfillment for the atypical ‘what if’ scenario. What if you could go back to an embarrassing moment in your own life and rectify it all to the good? Josie Geller (Drew Barrymore) is about to be given just such a chance when her newspaper editor, James Rigfort (Gary Marshall) assigns her to go undercover and do an exposé on what teenager’s really think about life, drugs, sex and so on.

One problem; Josie was the most unpopular gal in high school back in the day. But that was then. This is…well – it looks like more of the same. After wiping out on the school steps and blending with the nerdy crowd, Josie finds herself reverting to her former self the second time around. She seems entirely ill-equipped to handle the onslaught of negativity from the in-crowd on campus.

The situation is further complicated when Josie realizes she is starting to fall in love with her English teacher, Sam Coulson (Michael Vartan). Josie’s brother, Rob (David Arquette) attempts to diffuse the situation for his younger sister, by first pumping her full of confidence, then enrolling in high school himself to relive his glory days as a baseball jock and all around popular guy.

The screenplay by Abby Kohn and Marc Silverstein nimbly covers just about every juvenile vignette from our collective playbook of pre-adult life and effortlessly melds the more important romantic ‘coming of age’ message to the narrative's underbelly, even as it gradually peels away the layers of corn until what emerges is a sort of Sleeping Beauty awakening story with a genuine heart of optimism at its core.

The magic that is supposedly Drew Barrymore has always escaped this reviewer. But she is wholly believable as the awkward swan who, until this moment, has waddled through life more like a goose. There's a precocious sincerity to her performance that can neither be quantified nor understood unless you see the film. Barrymore takes us on that ride through the blossoming stage of life. Yet she does so without being overly dramatic or relying on the remedy of kooky humour to sell this believability to the audience.

Of course, all would be for not in Josie Geller's fairytale if it were not for the ideal prince. Michael Vartan proves to be just that, lending an intelligence to his pencil thin role as the object of Josie's affections. David Arquette is refreshingly obtuse as the has been in life who can still rock the house at his alma mater. Sweetness without the saccharine, Never Been Kissed is recommended viewing. It’s a feel good movie with more than a few moments of sublime realization.

Fox Home Video appears to be up to its old tricks where Blu-ray mastering is concerned. Never Been Kissed is not a true 1080p re-scan but a regurgitation of the previously issued DVD transfer bumped up to a 1080p signal. The image tightens up, although not enough to notice any real differences between the Blu-ray and the previously issued DVD when the picture is in motion. Colour fidelity marginally improves. Flesh tones look more natural on the Blu-ray while appearing just a tad too orange on the DVD. Contrast is okay. But fine details that ought to be present, quite simply are not!

This is a middling effort from Fox and one consumers ought to avoid purchasing if the quality of Fox's Blu-ray output (and catalogue Blu-ray titles everywhere for that matter) is ever to improve. A message has to be sent to the studios distributing these movies and the way consumers can send such a message is by boycotting anything less than 100% fidelity being sold to them as good faith product. The cold hard facts are that Blu-ray remastering takes time and money. Having said that - if it's good enough to go to the hi-def market, then it deserves both those considerations - PERIOD!

Truly, there is NO good reason (other than cost cutting) to put out substandard Blu-ray transfers, especially for a film that is barely 13 years young! Why can't the powers that be at Fox get that through their penny pinching minds?!? The big improvement noted on the Blu-ray is in its DTS audio that absolutely blows away the old 5.1 Dolby Digital track on the DVD. Then, as is now, the only extra feature included is a theatrical trailer. The movie is advertised as "a comedy with class" and that's certainly true enough. The Blu-ray's slipshod treatment is classless and disappointing! Not recommended!

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

3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

EXTRAS

THE GIRL FROM MISSOURI (MGM 1934) Warner Archive Collection

2012-01-01T22:49:00.002-05:00

Jean Harlow is Eadie Chapman, The Girl From Missouri (1934) in director Jack Conway's saucy romantic yarn about a good girl from the wrong side of the tracks. Eadie's mom started out that way, but fell hard for men who passed her around until her looks and fresh faced innocence turned to chalk. Now she's the hostess of a seedy dive that caters to more of the same rough trade. But that life's not good enough for Eadie. She wants something better for herself. Together with friend, Kitty Lennihan (Patsy Kelly), Eadie makes a late night break for Manhattan where she lands a job as a chorus girl who does private parties for rich millionaires.

Her most recent client is Frank Cousins (Lewis Stone); a onetime captain of industry who's fallen on his own hard times. Frank is too old for Eadie but kind to her nevertheless. He gives Eadie his ruby cufflinks and proposes marriage. But the moment she leaves him alone he takes his own life with a revolver.

Frank's rival, Thomas Randall Paige (Lionel Barrymore) wastes no time covering up the truth about Eadie and the cufflinks to the police. To show her gratitude Eadie latches onto Paige, following him back to his stately office under the accusatory glare of T.R.'s secretary, Ms. Newberry (Clara Blandick).

T.R. attempts to thwart Eadie's advances. After all, he's just been appointed the head of the international trade mart and doesn't need any complications on the home front. But Eadie is hard to get rid of. After T.R. gives her some cash to go away, she instead takes Kitty and tails him to his working vacation in Palm Springs. There, Eadie is inadvertently introduced to T.R. Jr. (Franchot Tone). The young Tom falls hard for Eadie, but sees her just as his dad does; as a flashy gold digger he can bounce on his knee without any fear of commitment.

The wrinkle here is that Eadie really is a good girl. After T.R. Jr. takes her to his bedroom inside their palatial family estate she breaks down, but bears only her soul to him. Tom is genuinely touched by Eadie's sincere confession of hard knocks. He rushes to his father's side to tell him that he intends to propose to Eadie at the first possible moment. Publicly T.R. Sr. gives his blessing. But behind the scenes he is determined as ever to rid their lives of Eadie once and for all.

Hiring an actor to play Eadie's lover, T.R. Sr. sends the press and the district attorney to Eadie's hotel suite. The very public scandal sends Eadie to jail and fills Tom Jr. with disillusionment about his future bride. Eadie turns to Charlie Turner (Hale Hamilton); a rich, but slithery friend of T.R. Sr. who has no quam about taking advantage of Eadie's precarious predicament. Charlie pays her bail with the expectation that she is now to become his kept woman.

Instead Eadie makes haste to confront T.R. Sr. She stows away inside his ship's stateroom as he is about to embark upon his first trip abroad as director of the trade mart. At precisely the right moment she emerges in her scanties and clutches his arm. Members of the press take T.R.'s picture as Eadie shouts "There! See how you like it!"

Angry and tired of being a good girl, Eadie succumbs to Charlie's advances. He gets her drunk, then promptly takes her to his home while his own wife is away in Egypt. But Kitty has wisely assessed the calamity about to occur. She intervenes, then lets both T.R.'s into Charlie's home. T.R. Sr. confesses that he admires Eadie's spunk and determination; qualities that will be useful to him on his world tour, but only if she and Tom Jr. are married. After some apprehension, Eadie agrees. She still loves Tom Jr. and he is very much in love with her.

The Girl from Missouri is typical 1930s fluff and nonsense sold with great conviction and the chic good taste that only MGM in its heyday could sell as pure gold. Anita Loos' screenplay makes its points but never remains on one for too long. Harlow is sublime as the proverbial good girl with a heart of gold buried under, mounds of tacky clothing and some very harsh makeup.

This reviewer has never been a fan of Harlow's early look; the bee stung lips, painted mole and pencil drawn brows. Although it was the 'hot' look of its period, when viewed through contemporary eyes it really is a freakish parody of womanhood; like Kabuki makeup designed to mask an asexual creature lurking beneath.

Franchot Tone's rather effeminate visage is a good match for Harlow's severe facade. Moreover, he and Harlow have real on screen chemistry. Lionel Barrymore and Lewis Stone give solid back up and Patsy Kelly is always good for a laugh. In the final analysis, The Girl from Missouri is a gritty dark romantic comedy that sells its wares with great gusto.

Warner's Archive MOD DVD falls short of expectations. Although advertised as remastered, the image is very grainy and riddled with age related artefacts. The image appears rather 'thick' instead of refined with fine details wanting throughout. Contrast levels seem just a tad darker than they ought to be. Once one gets used to these visual shortcomings the image has a consistent rendering that is tolerable. But the heavy patina of grain looks digitally harsh at times. The audio has been cleaned up but continues to exhibit slight hiss and pop that will not distract. The only extra feature is a Spanish theatrical trailer.

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

2.5

EXTRAS

RIFFRAFF (MGM 1936) Warner Archive Collection

2012-01-01T22:37:00.004-05:00

Comeuppances inside a cannery make for thrilling melodrama in J. Walter Ruben's Riffraff (1936) a sort of Americanized version of Eugene O'Neill's Anna Christie with Jean Harlow cast as Hattie Tuttle - a hardnosed, tough talking broad who scrapes by on the meager salary she earns as a tuna fish gutter. Hattie lives with her sister Lil' Bunt (Una Merkel) and her two kids. But her heart belongs to roughhouse scrapper and tuna fisherman, Dutch Mueller (Spencer Tracy).

Dutch is desperately trying to convince his coworkers not to strike against their employer, Nick Lewis (Joseph Calliea) since doing so will force Nick to call in scab labour at a fraction of their cost and thereby dissolve the contract that has secured their current wages. After some fast talking, and some even faster flying fists, Dutch convinces the employees to go back to work. Nick doesn't care much for Dutch. In fact, he's a thorn in Nick's side. But Nick's very sweet on Hattie whom he attempts to lure into his clutches with oily charm and a fur stole.

Dutch's relationship with Hattie runs hot and cold, leaving her feeling rather undervalued and ripe for Nick's advances. Pete (William Newell) is Dutch's best friend. But after a particularly rough break, Nick fires Dutch and refuses to take him back. Dutch's coworkers turn against him and he falls on hard times. To ease his pain, Hattie - who has begun to date Nick - asks him to loan her money to give to Dutch so that he can regain his self respect. When Nick refuses Hattie takes the money anyway. But she is too late to give it too Dutch who has ridden the rails out of town.

Nick learns of Hattie's theft and has her sent to the prison work house. Unbeknownst to Dutch, Hattie is pregnant with his child. When Dutch comes to the prison to visit her, suggesting that she make a midnight break through an open sewer so that they can finally be together, Hattie is appalled. She admonishes Dutch, telling him that she was ever the fool to ever believe he would make an honest woman of her and, more importantly, something out of himself. Demoralized, Dutch goes to Pete and begs for a job. Pete finds him one guarding the oil boat on the docks. After Dutch thwarts an attempt made to blow up the craft with a homemade bomb he earns the respect of his coworkers and a second chance from Nick to have his old job back.

Regrettably, at just the moment when Dutch has learned to appreciate his newfound respectability as a prospect for winning Hattie back, she has turned to a life of crime by making a break from the prison through the sewer as Dutch suggested. Hold up inside Lil's cramped waterfront shanty, Hattie sends for Dutch who tells her he will go with her anywhere so long as they can be together. But Hattie, realizing that their future as a family depends on the decisions made right now, begs Dutch's forgiveness and vows to return to prison to serve out the rest of her sentence so that they can start their lives together anew.

Riffraff is fairly engaging entertainment. Spencer Tracy is in the 'mug' or 'galoot' phase of his MGM career - a mantel he inherited from Wallace Beery. As such, Tracy was often cast as no accounts who eventually see the light and come to the side of virtue through their interactions with good women. Harlow's on screen appeal is in transition with this film. Her harsh 'gun mall' looks have been softened and her brassy veneer greatly tempered to reveal a more tender and misunderstood virginal quality lurking just beneath her defensive facade.

Harlow and Tracy are indelible stars, the kind we don't see the likes of in our current cinema firmament. They have their own presence on screen working apart, but are united in Riffraff to produce an entirely new persona for each through their on screen chemistry. She gives Tracy respectability. He makes Harlow genuine with a real woman's heart. A very young Mickey Rooney is in this one too, happily so as Jimmie Thurger, an impressionable kid who worships Dutch as a god. In the final analysis, Riffraff is good solid entertainment. It coddles and wallops its audience with melodrama and comedy - as propriety demands.

Warner's Archive MOD DVD is adequate, though not exceptional. The gray scale is nicely balanced. But the image has a curious instability (most likely due to damaged sprocket holes). It wobbles continuously throughout this presentation - a distraction most noticeable in long and medium shots. Age related artefacts are everywhere and occasionally add another layer of distraction to the mix. But contrast levels seem bang on and the image is relatively crisp with fine detail evident in background information. The audio is mono with noticeable, though hardly distracting hiss and pop. The only extra is a theatrical trailer.

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

3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

EXTRAS

SARATOGA (MGM 1937) Warner Archive Collection

2012-01-01T11:08:00.002-05:00

Just six days shooting remained on Jack Conway's Saratoga (1937) when its star, MGM's resident sex symbol Jean Harlow fell ill and succumbed to uremic poisoning at the tender age of 26. The back lot went into a state of shock, then mourning, leaving the completion of Harlow's last picture in jeopardy. MGM contemplated recasting the film with Virginia Bruce or Jean Arthur. But fans inundated the studio with pleas to release the film as a testament to its fallen star.

Several crucial sequences had yet to be filmed at the time of Harlow's passing. Undaunted, MGM regrouped, hired double Mary Dees and finished the film - a bittersweet occasion for all concerned. Fans may have won the battle, but the spoils of their conquest went straight into MGM's coffers. Saratoga was the biggest grossing film of 1937.

Viewed today, Saratoga is not quite the memorable last act of Harlow's career that fans might have preferred. In fact, the screenplay by Anita Loos is rather pedestrian. Bookie Duke Bradley (Clark Gable) intervenes in the bank's takeover of Grampa Clayton's (Lionel Barrymore) once illustrious stud farm. Grandpa's son, Frank (Jonathan Hale) has been contemplating getting out of the horse race business for some time. Frank's weak heart has left him tired and slightly disillusioned about the future of the farm.

Meanwhile, Frank's daughter Carol (Jean Harlow) has been abroad in Europe these many months and has recently become engaged to wealthy Hartley Madison (Walter Pigeon). Duke and Hartley have a long standing - though very congenial - rivalry stemming from a bet Duke lost to Hartley on the racetrack. Duke vows to get even and confides his intensions to friends, Fritzi (Una Merkel) and Tip O'Brien (Cliff Edwards). But Fritzi's husband, Jesse Kiffmeyer (Frank Morgan) is the loveably jealous sort. He thinks Duke is making a play for Fritzi. Actually Duke is in love with Carol. After Frank dies of a heart attack Grandpa hands over the deed to the farm to Duke. Carol is outraged but can do nothing without buying the farm back.

At an auction Duke goads Hartley into betting on Moonray, a colt that Carol is selling to pay off her debts on the farm. Duke is determined to win Carol's heart. But when he confesses his intensions to soak Hartley for the necessary funds to marry her, Carol is outraged. Duke decides that the only way to win Carol is to win enough bets to own the farm outright. But Carol sets into motion a plan to teach Duke a lesson about living life on the prospect of good bets alone.

Carol stacks the deck against Duke by getting Jesse's contract with jockey Dixie Gordon (Frankie Darro). But Fritzi learns of this plot and alerts Duke who has already taken a $100,000.000 bet from Hartley that Moonray will win. Instead, Fritzi's horse comes in, securing Duke's future interests in the farm and winning back Carol's love and affection.

Saratoga is rather convoluted entertainment, complicated by the fact that Harlow is absent from the last third. Mary Dee does a so-so job of faking Harlow's presence, shot mostly with her hand to her face or from the back to conceal her identity. But Harlow's inimitable brass and cheek is missing and it is greatly missed! Anita Loos was forced to rewrite the last act to accommodate Harlow's absence but either way, Saratoga isn't as grand or memorable as Harlow's five other filmic outings with Gable - Red Dust (1932) being their finest (and still absent on home video!!!!).

Viewed today, the sequence where a beleaguered Carol, recovering from the flu, has Duke rub liniment on her back is a painful reminder of the sad few days left in Harlow's own life. Indeed, Harlow looks bloated and unwell throughout most of the film. Her mother's religious beliefs prevented Harlow from seeking the necessary medical treatment to save her life. By the time L.B. Mayer learned of his star's ailing health it was already too late.

As a film, Saratoga is passable entertainment. But its love triangle gets buried under a quagmire of screwball misdirection. Is this a story of dirty underhanded horse racing, or a playful romantic romp for its two stars? The screenplay never entirely decides and as a result Saratoga flip-flops between these contradictory plot devices. By the end we really don't care if Grandpa gets his farm and only marginally worry whether or not Carol and Duke will be together before the final fade out.

Gable's catch all line, "I love yah!" doesn't cement their relationship either because he says it to virtually everybody in the cast. In the final analysis, Saratoga is good but not great. It is more of a footnote to the behind the scenes tragedy that brought down the curtain on one of Hollywood's most enduring and endearing stars.

Warner's Archive MOD DVD is a middling effort. The image is soft throughout, occasionally distractingly so, with a loss of fine detail that makes for a pretty murky presentation. Contrast levels seem a tad weak. Blacks are never truly black but velvety gray. Whites bloom during brighter scenes. Age related artefacts are everywhere and distracting. The audio is mono with noticeable hiss and pop throughout. The only extra is a very brief trailer hosted by Lewis Stone who does not appear in the film.

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

2.5

EXTRAS

SUZY (MGM 1936) Warner Archive Collection

2012-01-01T11:06:00.001-05:00

Based on Herman Gorman's novel, George Fitzmaurice's Suzy (1936) is a congenial, but misshapen narrative melodrama set against the backdrop of WWI. The screenplay by Dorothy Parker, Alan Campbell, Horace Jackson and Lenore J. Coffee has its ups and downs. The chief problem with the story is that it waffles between legitimate melodrama and hackneyed hokum; a lot of sound and fury signifying absolutely nothing by the final fade out.

Despite the fact that Jean Harlow is cast as the title character, cabaret singer Suzanne 'Suzy' Trent, the film really doesn't belong to her character. After her stage show closes Suzy decides to stay in England to look for another show or a rich husband. She finds neither but quickly latches on to loveable factory worker, Terry Moore (Franchot Tone) who truly adores her and comes to consider her his lucky charm. Terry is working on a stabilizer for aircrafts in his spare time - a device he is certain will make him rich. Unhappy chance that the munitions factory where he works is run by Mrs. Schmidt (Greta Meyer) and a gaggle of German spies who waste no time in their attempt to murder Terry after they think he has overheard their plans for industrial espionage.

Terry and Suzy are married. But on the eve of their wedding Terry is shot by German spy Madame Diane Eyrelle (Benita Hume) in Suzy's presence. Believing that Diane has murdered her husband - and also erroneously suspecting that she will be accused of the crime, Suzy flees to France and the relative safety of her friend, Maisie's (Inez Courtney) apartment.

Maise gets Suzie a job as a cabaret singer where she meets charismatic French flyboy Capt. Andre Charville (Cary Grant). At first the two mix like oil and water. But very quickly Suzie falls under Andre's romantic spell. What she fails to realize is that Andre's way with her is his way with all women. He is a loveable womanizer incapable of settling down. Nevertheless, Suzy and Andre are married.

Andre's father, Baron Edward Charville (Lewis Stone) knows his son better than that. He is cold and aloof toward Suzy, believing that she has married his son for the family fortune. But when he sees just how much she truly loves Andre, Edward becomes Suzy's sincere champion - dedicating himself to seeing that Andre remains true to her.

Andre is recalled to the battlefront and wounded. While convalescing in the army hospital he is visited by Diane with whom he is having an affair. He is also visited by Suzy who inadvertently is reunited with Terry. The two bitterly reconcile after Terry learns Suzy and Andre are married. But when Suzy learns of her husband's affair with Diane she also recalls where she has seen his lover before. She tells Terry that Diane is the one who shot him on their wedding night and that Andre is in grave danger. Terry and Suzy hurry to Diane's home to warn Andre but in an ensuing struggle Andre is shot and killed, forcing Terry to take over his air raid mission and win the aerial battle in his stead.

After shooting Diane, Terry conquers the German forces in the skies before crashing his plane near Diane's house. Terry and Suzy dress up Andre's corpse to make it appear as though he has been the one flying the plane. The French air force mourn their loss, but Terry and Suzy go off together - united in the knowledge that they have lived up to the legacy of Andre Charville.

As top flight entertainment, Suzy never gets off the ground. Harlow isn't bad in this melodrama, but she's not quite as glittery or engaging either. Grant is wholly unacceptable as a Frenchman. No accent, no depth of character - just the old Cary Grant we're used to seeing. That said, he's still Cary Grant - charisma plus - and for most that's probably good enough. The same cannot be said of Franchot Tone's pitiful attempt at an Irish brogue. It's there, then it's not. He is the least convincing of the three principles.

All these sins could be forgotten if the script were better. It's not. The opening act puts our heroine in familiar territory, then plucks her from this musical melange to thrust her full force into a dark tale of espionage where she tends to languish.

The last two thirds of the story are really about Terry - struggling to reconcile his emotions between jealousy and admiration for Andre, to forget that he is married to his wife and to do right by their friendship. As such, Harlow's Suzy really gets cast into the dust bin during the film's last act. She's merely the go between these two soldiers of misfortune - serving as a bridge that will bring her back to her first love, Terry.

Warner's Archive MOD DVD is adequate, though hardly exceptional. The gray scale is nicely balanced but the image is frequently softly focused with a loss of fine detail throughout. Age related artefacts are everywhere and frequently distract. A hint of edge enhancement crops up now and then but nothing that will hinder one's viewing pleasure. The audio is mono and with a noticeable hiss and pop throughout. A radio promo is the only extra.

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

2.5

EXTRAS

RECKLESS (MGM 1935) Warner Archive Collection

2011-12-31T21:55:00.002-05:00

Jean Harlow's career undeniably crests into the 'sheer magnificence' category of movie acting with Victor Fleming's Reckless (1935); a glowing example of the studio bound melodrama that unexpectedly wallops its audience with genuine heart and soul. The film is loosely based on a 1931 scandal involving torch singer Libby Holman's marriage to tobacco heir Zachary Smith Reynolds and was first proposed as a project for Joan Crawford by writer/producer David O. Selznick. A bit of well timed verisimilitude extended beyond the project's history.

Jean Harlow replaced Crawford after Selznick felt that Harlow's real life romance with William Powell (her co-star) would deliver added cache at the box office. But Harlow was initially reluctant to accept the role. Her own husband, MGM producer Paul Bern had committed suicide the same as Zachary Smith did and her on screen husband, played by Franchot Tone, would have to.

The screenplay by Selznick and P.J. Wolfson changed the names 'to protect the innocent' but kept pretty much everything else in this high octane tear jerker. Harlow stars as Broadway chanteuse, Mona Leslie. We first meet Mona in jail for reckless driving. She is salvaged from the tank by sports promoter Ned Riley (William Powell) who has come to Mona's aid at the behest of her concerned Granny (loveably cantankerous May Robson).

Granny knows that Ned carries a torch for Mona. However, at present that flame has been transferred from Mona to wealthy playboy Bob Harrison Jr. (Franchot Tone). Certain that his affections will not be reciprocated, Ned is reluctant to confess his true feelings to Mona. The one time he musters the courage to propose he finds that Mona has slipped off to sleep before he can find the words.

Bob is the rather devil-may-care sort. Although engaged to socialite Josephine Jo' Mercer (Rosalind Russell) he enjoys slumming with Mona. She, in turn, has mistaken his affections for genuine love. Out on a drunken bender, Bob decides to marry Mona, then quickly comes to regret his haste. Although Jo accepts their marriage and Mona without any sort of personal resentment, Bob's father, Colonel Harrison (Henry Stephenson) is unable to bring himself to be anything less than utterly condescending towards Mona.

Mona tolerates his paternal abuse, all the while hoping that he will someday warm up to her genuine kindness. Jo's brother Paul (Robert Light) is equally unwilling to let bygones be bygones. He deliberately excludes Bob from the country club fox hunt. This snub leads to the first of many scenes as Bob quickly realizes he is no longer welcome amongst the people he once regarded as his family and friends. Their alienation leads to his declining self respect and his frequent turning to the bottle for solace. Mona does all that she can to win her husband back but it's no use. As Bob grows more sullen he begins to suspect that Ned is getting designs on his wife.

After making a public spectacle out of Jo's wedding to blueblood, Ralph Watson (Leon Ames), a severely drunken Bob confronts Mona and Ned in his hotel suite before taking his own life. The tabloids brand Bob's suicide a murder and suggest that Ned and Mona were in cahoots to finish him off for a million dollar settlement. Although a coroner's inquest eventually exonerates Ned and Mona of any such crime, the court of popular opinion refuses to surrender the rumours surrounding Bob's death. Ned and Mona are branded social pariahs and ostracized from all 'good' society.

Mona quickly discovers that no Broadway producer will take a chance on restarting her stage career. At the same time Mona learns she is pregnant with Bob's baby. The Colonel attempts to gain custody of the child but surrenders all claims when Mona agrees to forgo the million dollar insurance payout that is rightfully hers. Ned comes to Mona's aid by secretly raising funds to produce her comeback Broadway revue. But the mood at the premiere turns ugly when the Colonel stacks the audience with his own friends who hiss and boo Mona during her debut song. In her own defence, Mona confronts the audience.

She tells them once and for all that she had nothing to do with Bob's death and further admonishes them for their arrogance and ignorance in preventing her to go on. Her sheer defiance softens their hearts and Mona concludes her song to resounding applause and a proposal of marriage from Ned backstage that she gratefully accepts.

Reckless is a masterpiece on many levels, only slightly marred by the obtuse interjection of a severely botched musical number near the beginning of the film. Bob has bought out the house for a command performance. Harlow lip syncs the title track 'Reckless', then has her dancing done by an obvious double for most of the routine that follows. Musical comedy was never Harlow's strong suit.

Why anyone at MGM would have force fed her into this claptrap production number (that migrates its action from an absurdly over produced art deco nightclub backdrop that inexplicably transitions into a southwestern mariachi routine topped off by Mona's onstage murder) is beyond me. Only the inconsequentially painful ending of Dancing Lady (1933), set to Rhythm of the Day narrowly tips the scale of bad taste exercised in this sequence. But even that had Nelson Eddy do his own singing and Joan Crawford schlep her own feet to the beat.

Otherwise, what we have with Reckless is a lavishly produced melodrama with decorous accoutrements and top notch performances. Everyone is giving it their all and it shows in spades. George Folsey's elegant cinematography and Cedric Gibbons' superb art direction deliver a glamorous showcase that is eye popping. Reckless is high art with high quality written all over it. It deserves better than what it's been given on DVD.

And on that note, here are a few words about the transfer. Warner's MOD Archive release is good but not great. The gray scale is fairly accurately represented. But age related artefacts are prevalent throughout and at times quite distracting. Advertised as 'remastered' the image is only a tad sharper and more refined than that offered on other titles featured in the Harlow 100th Anniversary Collection that do not advertise as much. At times contrast levels seem just a tad weaker than expected. Thankfully, we have all been spared the obnoxious inclusion of edge enhancement on this outing. But film grain occasionally looks more gritty than grainy. Overall, the transfer will not disappoint, but it's hardly worthy of a film as good as Reckless.

The audio is mono but adequate with minimal hiss and pop. Extras include an audio vault of outtakes and radio promos plus the film's theatrical trailer. Highly recommended for content. Moderately recommended for transfer quality.

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

4.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

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PERSONAL PROPERTY (MGM 1937) Warner Archive Collection

2011-12-31T21:53:00.002-05:00

A sparkling romantic comedy based on H.M. Harwood's play The Man In Possession, W.S. Van Dyke's Personal Property (1937) shimmers with a playful zest. MGM, the purveyors of such glossy/frothy entertainments during Hollywood's golden age, are working with stellar material here, and an impeccable cast too. The film stars the studio's resident bombshell Jean Harlow in her second to last feature, opposite the undeniably handsome heartthrob Robert Taylor.

On this occasion both give peerless performances. Harlow is Mrs. Crystal Wetherby - a gold digger whose late husband left her with a fashionable home in London and his good name, but precious little else. Starved for cash, Crystal has become engaged to stuffed shirt, Claude Dabney (Reginald Owen); heir to a ladies undergarment factory. Claude's brother, Raymond (Robert Taylor) has just been paroled from a six month prison sentence for illegally selling automobiles. Although Mrs. Dabney (Henrietta Crosman) dotes on her prodigal, Raymond's father, Cosgrove (E.E. Clive) has taken Claude's side in the matter. Raymond will have to leave the family estate and seek his livelihood elsewhere.

Raymond accidentally bumps into Crystal inside the lobby of his favourite hotel. Not knowing that she is his brother's fiancée, he doggedly pursues her with flirtatious aplomb, then tails her to the opera and later, her home in an attempt to get to know her better.

Crystal rebukes Raymond at every turn. But a saving grace arrives in bailiff Herbert Jenkins (Forrester Harvey) who has come to collect on some outstanding debts. Because Herbert's wife is about to have a baby, he appoints Raymond as his sheriff's deputy and assigns him the task of living on the Wetherby estate until such time as the debt can be paid in full or his men arrive to confiscate the contents of the home.

At first this arrangement does not sit well with Crystal. In fact, she's about to have a lavish dinner party in Raymond's presence. How embarrassing! Not to worry, though. Raymond has thought of everything. He decides to help Crystal along by playing the part of her butler for the evening. Only the rouse curdles when he discovers that Crystal is Claude's wife to be.

The dinner party is most certainly the highlight of this Hugh Mills/Ernest Vajda screen adaptation - a potpourri of witty one liners haughtily dispatched with superb comedic timing by all concerned. At the party are Crystal's girlfriend with a roving eye, Catherine Burns (Marla Shelton), her mother, Mrs. Burns (Cora Witherspoon), stuffed shirt Lord Carstairs (Lionel Braham) and musician with marbles in his mouth, Arthur Trevelyan (Barrett Parker). All will play a farcical part in entertaining us with the obtuse stupidity of the evening as Raymond - rechristened Ferguson the butler - subliminally threatens to expose his true identity (and much to Claude's chagrin) to the rest of the unsuspecting gathering.

By night's end Crystal has decided for herself that she cannot marry Claude whom she finds even more boorish and ill tempered. But what to do? She's penniless and still unaware that she might find an escape from her debts by marrying his brother. Raymond decides to play a percentage. He cons Claude, telling him that he has decided to vacate Crystal's home for four hundred pounds. Instead, Raymond uses the money to buy up the Jenkins' debt, thereby making him the guarantor of Crystal's estate. She has become 'his' personal property!

Personal Property has wit, elegance, charm and genuine sparkle - all hallmarks of a classic 'classy' comedy. There is real chemistry between Harlow and Taylor, the kind no amount of good acting can forge. As a pair of loveable frauds they're both real charmers. But there's something more added to the mix - that intangible quality that authenticates their burgeoning on camera romance.

Surrounded by a superior supporting cast, these Hollywood greats take charge and lead the audience into a sumptuous concoction of chic good taste and sardonic drollness. In the final analysis, Personal Property is a comedic gem through and through. They certainly don't make 'em like this anymore and more is the pity.

A pity too that Warner's MOD Archive release hasn't done a better job mastering the film for this release. The gray scale has held up remarkably well for a film over 70 years old. But age related artefacts (dirt, scratches, pocks and chips) are everywhere and, at times, distracting. Worse, there seems to be some rather obvious aliasing and edge enhancement applied to the transfer. When the image is solid (which is for a good portion of the film's run time) it's a middling mastering effort that we can tolerate though hardly accept. But when the shimmering of fine details kicks in it all but dismantles our appreciation for the movie.

The audio is mono and adequately realized with minimal hiss and pop. Extras include a Lux Radio broadcast of a different play starring Taylor and Harlow, plus the film's original trailer. Highly recommended for content, not for transfer quality.

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

2.5

EXTRAS

THE FOUR FEATHERS: Blu-ray (London Films 1939) Criterion Home Video

2011-12-31T15:37:00.003-05:00

The essence and flavour of Zoltan Korda's 1939 adaptation of The Four Feathers is arguably the most loyal to A.E.W. Mason's 1902 novel. Although it diverges in many ways from a purist's interpretation of the book, the film holds the dubious distinction of being the only adaptation to feature an all British cast. The screenplay by R.C. Sherriff, Lajos Biro and Arthur Wimperis takes up its tale of heroism after the fall of Gen. Gordon in Khartoum.

Gen. Flaversham (Allan Jeayes) is a disillusioned relic of the old home guard who worries that his young son, Harry (Clive Baxter) does not share in his familial sense of honour. Since the time he was able to walk, young Harry has been brought up on stories of glory and war. Gen. Burroughs (C. Aubrey Smith) in particular relishes in recanting his 'good ol' days during the Crimean conflict. Still, Harry can only see the futility in war. His father's friend, Dr. Sutton (Frederick Culley) sympathizes with Harry's dilemma but assures him that when the time comes he will do the right thing to preserve the Flaversham family name.

Unhappy circumstance that adult Harry (now played by John Clements) has not changed his viewpoint with time. It's1895 and the North Surrey Regiment, under Sir Herbert Kitchener is marching to face the forces of the Khalifa (John Laurie - decidedly miscast as an Arab). Forced into the army, Lieutenant Harry Flaversham and his comrades, Capt. John Durrance (Ralph Richardson), Lieutenants Peter Burroughs (Donald Gray) and Willoughby (Jack Allen) have all been called into service. But Harry has other plans. Engaged to Ethne Burroughs (June Duprez) he is no longer willing to sacrifice his own happiness simply to satisfy his peers.

John, Peter and Willoughby are outraged by Harry's resignation from the army. They each give him a single white feather (a symbol of cowardice) to mark their displeasure. When Ethne does nothing to defend her beloved's reputation Harry demands another feather from her. Although she refuses, he plucks a single white plumb from her fan. Harry next confides in Dr. Sutton that he is indeed a coward, then sets out to Egypt of his own accord to remedy his rash decision to withdraw from the armed forces. But Harry is still determined to be a hero on his own terms. He disguises himself as a mute Sangali, intent on infiltrating the Khalifa's forces and learn their future attack plans against the British.

On route to a clash with the Khalifa, Durrance succumbs to sun stroke that causes permanent blindness. Left for dead in the middle of the desert, Durrance is rescued by Harry who tucks Ethne's white feather into his letter. Forced to retreat back to England, Durrance actively pursues a romance with Ethne. The old Gen. approves. Durrance is a retired hero. Out of pity, Ethne pledges herself in marriage to Durrance even though her heart still belongs to Harry. Inadvertently, the sightless Durrance reveals to Ethne, the old Gen. and Dr. Sutton the contents of the white feather. Harry is still very much alive. No one, least of all Ethne, has the heart to tell Durrance this.

Meanwhile, back in the Sudan Burroughs and Willoughby are captured and taken to the prison of Omdurman - a hellish pit of despair from which there is no return. They quietly discover that the Sangali slave in their midst is none other than Harry Flaversham, come to their aid with a plan of escape. Harry organizes a revolt amongst the prisoners who overpower the guards and seize the Khalifa's arsenal. Their victory spares Kitchener's army from a full blown Khalifa attack.

When news of Harry's courage reaches Durrance he dictates a letter to Dr. Sutton, releasing Ethne of her engagement promise under the false pretext that his plans for therapy abroad to restore his sight will take many years. Sometime later Harry returns to England. He is reunited with Ethne, the Gen., Dr. Sutton and many old friends. But as the old General begins to recant his favorite war story, Harry quietly intervenes to cleverly dispel his embellishments. The mildly irritated Gen. modestly complains that he will never again be able to tell his story with a straight face.

The Four Feathers is lavish entertainment. It's battle sequences are immense and impressive. For some years afterwards they would continue to turn up as 'stock footage' in other British films. Korda's direction is more stilted than North American audiences are used to. His preference for scenes of exposition is that the actors should move about the scenery while the camera remains relatively stationary. Viewed today, these intimate scenes have a strangely embalmed quality, a sort of rigid yet mobile waxworks on display.

The other 'hump' that audiences in this country then and now need to overcome is that The Four Feathers is a film absent of star power. That vital ingredient aside, the film is populated by supremely competent performances. John Clements transformation from apprehensive soldier to Sangali native is sublime perfection. Ralph Richardson manages a minor acting coup, resisting the more obvious urge to rely on audience sympathy for the blindness of his character. Instead, he remains a steadfast beacon of courage under fire - our empathy for his Durrance derived from Richardson's presence, not his character's predicament. C. Aubrey Smith's stoic elegance draws from a rich tapestry of distinctly British memory and fondness for the England that used to be.

In the final analysis, The Four Feathers succeeds as a motion picture because the craftsmanship of its acting overrides George Perinal's rather flat and uninspired cinematography during the lengthy melodramatic dialogue sequences.

The same high praise cannot be extolled on Criterion's Blu-ray release. It is, frankly, an insult to collectors who have come to regard the company's integrity and commitment for releasing time honoured and art house movies in the best possible condition available. Although Criterion's Blu-ray release does correct the horrendous mis-registration problems that riddled the old MGM DVD from several years ago, it has been derived from a similarly flawed Technicolor dye transfer that contains severe streaks and modelling throughout this presentation. Colour bleeding during long shots, as well as obvious 'breathing' of the image around the edges is extremely distracting.

The image is often gritty rather than grainy. (Aside: 3 strip Technicolor was a grain concealing process. As such this image ought to be velvety smooth yet sharp. Regrettably, it is neither). There is an occasional softness, particularly with the footage shot on location. As example, the rock formations that Lieutenant Durrance climbs in his sun stroke delirium are not delineated by the coarseness of their fine texture. Instead they appear as nondescript blobs of grayish brown.

Only in close ups does the image vaguely hint at the vibrancy and attention to detail it ought to have throughout. The audio is mono as originally recorded and adequate. But the visual are, in a word - disappointing, period! Extras include an informative feature length audio commentary, a featurette on the Korda legacy and London Films, and the film's original theatrical trailer. Given Criterion's usual dedication, this release seems slapdash at best! Not recommended!

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

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BOMBSHELL (MGM 1933) Warner Archive Collection

2011-12-31T12:58:00.001-05:00

Hollywood's pre-code era yielded some rather raunchy masterpieces that have recently resurfaced as part of the 'golden age' canon of classic movies. Given our own current laissez faire cultural climate the concerns and constraints imposed upon the film industry then by the Hayes/Breen offices at the behest of the Catholic League of Decency seem laughable. But at the time there was a very fervent morality that wholly believed movies were capable of corrupting the masses. (They may have been on to something there!)

One of the cinema's most popular attractions then was Jean Harlow - a brassy, unabashedly crass young lass (at least on screen) who's escapades inside a rain barrel in Red Dust (1932) prompted a targeted outrage. Although sympathetic to the cause of propriety, MGM's Louis B. Mayer was not about to turn Harlow out from his stable of stars. After all, she was a top money maker. And Harlow's screen image was diametric to the rather naive and fun loving girl behind the scenes.

Nevertheless, Harlow's early on screen persona was that of a loud mouthed, sexually promiscuous tease, unapologetically perverse and in search of sin where and whenever it could be found. In many ways, Victor Fleming's Bombshell (1933) seems to foreshadow the coming of the production code while still getting away with slinging its mud - its underlying 'pity the poor misunderstood trollop' narrative thread pitched low as a sort of subliminal apology for Harlow's more gregarious on camera antics.

In Bombshell Harlow is Lola Burns - a Hollywood star cut in the image of Paramount's Clara Bow - her 'It girl' status in constant danger of being capsized by sleazy press agent, E.J. Hanlon (Lee Tracy), unbearably greedy family; father (Frank Morgan), brother (Ted Healy), coarse private secretary, Mac (Una Merkel) and wayward romantic partners, Hugo (Ivan Lebedeff) and Jim Brogan (Pat O'Brien).

Lola's career is a resounding success. But her home life is a shambles. She hungers for peace, though perhaps not at any price. However, Hanlon is not about to let Lola settle down with anyone - especially since he is in love with her himself. Lola doesn't see that love, however. To her Hanlon is just another sponge among many, and, in some ways Lola's right. To pad his own interests, Hanlon has hired actors to portray Lola's latest lover, Gifford Middleton (Franchot Tone) and his uppity blue blood parents, Mrs. Middleton (Mary Forbes) and Wendell Middleton (C. Aubrey Smith).

After some moonlit badinage, Lola is all set to marry Gifford. But a chance meeting between the Middletons and Lola's father and brother results in predictable disaster. The next day Lola retreats to the relative safety of the studio; Hanlon's plan all along. The two reconcile and Lola begins to fall for Hanlon - until she learns the truth about Gifford.

Bombshell is gregarious entertainment. The film is justly famous for a line of dialogue uttered passionately by Franchot Tone: "Your hair is like a field of silver daisies. I'd like to run barefoot through your hair!" But the film's loud mouth approach to comedy tends to grate on one's nerves. Everyone is shouting at everyone else all the time and this frantic mayhem threatens to drown out the carefully crafted witticisms and more biting comedy peppered throughout by screenwriters Caroline Francke, Mack Crane, John Lee Mahin, Jules Furthman and Norman Krasna.

When the actors settle down for a moment or two there's pause for the audience to catch their breath and reflect upon the ripeness of this parody. In truth, the film is a scathing jab at what life might be like for Hollywood's alumni besought by leeches at every turn and hounded by the press for the next big scoop about glamorous life. Bombshell isn't a great film, but it has great ideas inserted throughout its rather meandering plot - enough to provoke sincere thought after the footlights have come up.

Bombshell is one of the film's offered by the Warner Archive as part of its 100th Anniversary dedicated to its star. Harlow died tragically of uremic poisoning at the age of twenty-four, necessitating retakes with a double on her last movie, Saratoga (1937). Those interested in owning this film really should invest in the entire Harlow Anniversary collection that features 7 films for a mere $49.99 plus taxes.

Although advertised as 'remastered' Bombshell's transfer suffers from virtually every age related pitfall known to film preservationists. For starters, the image is rather 'thick' instead of refined, characterized by a veil of heavy grain and with fine detail wanting throughout. The gray scale seems gritty and on the low end of the contrast spectrum. Age related artefacts are heavy and frequently distract. Warner has arguably done its best on a shoestring budget in bringing this film to home video. But it could stand to benefit from a costly 'ground up' digital restoration. The audio is mono as originally recorded and rather strident throughout. The only extra is a theatrical trailer for the Spanish version of the film. Not recommended.

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

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THE LAST TIME I SAW PARIS (MGM 1954) Warner Archive Collection

2011-12-31T11:21:00.001-05:00

Lost opportunities and the haunted remembrances they conjure to mind are the focus of Richard Brooks' The Last Time I Saw Paris (1954). Based on F. Scott Fitzgerald's Babylon Revisited, the film is a rather turgid melodrama about an absolutely luscious wartime romance that turns toxic after the big guns have stopped firing. The script by Julius J. and Philip G. Epstein and Brooks lacks the tender lustre and exuberant punch necessary to sustain the characters beyond a few well placed scenes. But it positively and interminably drags during the last act where all the characters succumbs to insipid wallowing as they drown in their own self pity and regret.

Our story opens in the present with Charles Wills (Van Johnson) revisiting all the old haunts he once knew so well in Paris. Charles panged expression tells us we are in for a bittersweet reminiscence. (Aside: although the film's credits suggest the entire movie was shot on location in France, only these opening scenes and a few inserts peppered throughout the film were actually photographed in Paris. The rest was photographed on MGM's back lot in Culver City.)

After reuniting with old friend and barkeep, Maurice (Kurt Kasznar) inside the Cafe Dhingo, Charles attentions are drawn to a rather gaudy caricature of Helen Ellswirth (Elizabeth Taylor) painted on the wall. We regress in flashback to the Armistice. Charles is a returning solider caught in the heady street celebration that has devoured Paris. He is impulsively kissed by Helen, who wastes no time disappearing into the crowd.

Charles makes his way to the Cafe Dhingo where he is reunited with French soldier, Claude Matine (George Dolenz) who is having a drink with girlfriend, Marion Ellswirth (Donna Reed). Marion takes an immediate shine to Charles, inviting him back to her father's home for a liberation party. Charles happily complies and is amazed to discover Helen at the party too.

Much to Marion's chagrin, Charles and Helen quickly become lovers. Helen's father, James (Walter Pigeon) is an irreprehensible and penniless scamp; loveably sponging off Charles to place a bet on a long shot at a horse race. He warns Charles that the qualities of solidity and permanence that other women would value in a husband will not be enough to sustain Helen's affections. She is her father's daughter, used to the good life and parties and dabbling in art and music with artists and musicians who would rather spend their days drinking at the Cafe Dhingo than work.

Undaunted Charles marries Helen. James bequeaths them some 'useless' deeds to land in Texas that James is convinced will yield oil someday. In the meantime, Charles begins to work for the Europa News Outlet, quietly beginning his first novel in his spare time. Charles and Helen have a daughter, Vicki (Sandra Descher). But even the prospect of motherhood isn't enough to quell Helen's desire for nightlife. She frequently leaves Charles to tend to the girl while she stays out all night.

Meanwhile, Charles succumbs to a growing depression because of his lack of initial success in the publishing world. His mental darkness is compounded when Helen catches cold and has to be hospitalized for pneumonia. Gradually, Charles turns to drink. A chance meeting with notorious socialite, Lorraine Quarl (Ava Gabor) leads to a superficial romance at approximately the same time Helen decides to take up with tennis playboy, Paul (Roger Moore in his MGM debut). News arrives that the oil wells have come in. The family is rich. But this only compounds their troubles. Charles takes up racing and even more drink and Helen plunges into her affair with Paul.

Although Charles continues to see Lorraine he desperately wants Helen back. But it's no use. The two are at cross purposes and never the twain shall meet. After a particularly embarrassing scene at a social gathering Charles stumbles home in a drunken stupor. He angrily bolts the door from the inside, then collapses on the stairs. Helen returns home, contrite and hoping to reconcile once and for all. But, unable to open the door she retreats to her sister's home in a rainstorm where she collapses from another bout of pneumonia and dies.

Marion, who has married Claude, petitions the courts for custody of Vicki and wins. Charles retreats to America where he finally gets a handle on his alcoholism. Returning to France, presumably some years later, he finds James paralyzed and in a wheel chair after suffering a stroke. Charles begs Marion for custody of Vicki but she bitterly refuses him. Only after Claude confides in his wife that he has known all along how much she still loves Charles does Marion's heart soften. Marion brings Vicki to the Cafe Dhingo where Charles is waiting and father and daughter are reunited with the promise of starting their lives anew.

The Last Time I Saw Paris is a mostly maudlin affair that might have been helped along if the film had actually been shot entirely in the city of light. But the differences between the inserted location photography and the rest of the film shot at MGM are painfully obvious, the back lot entirely unconvincing as a substitute for the real thing. The assemblage of talent in the film is impressive. But the screenplay relies too heavily on every 'American in Paris' cliché, offering nothing fresh or revitalizing to a formula all too familiar.

Elizabeth Taylor is supremely gorgeous throughout the film. But her performance is fairly dull for long stretches. Van Johnson is appropriately bitter. But the bite in his contempt for Helen is so brutal one wonders how a fickle creature such as she ever clung to the hope that one day they would reconcile. Walter Pigeon's smarmy patriarch is refreshing. But Ava Gabor and Roger Moore make no impression whatsoever, particularly Moore who gets limited mileage from his Cheshire grin and dashingly youthful good looks. In the final analysis, The Last Time I Saw Paris is a tragedy of its storytelling rather than a tragic romantic story.

The film has long been in public domain and there are numerous editions available on DVD. None offer satisfactory image quality. To my knowledge Warner Home Video's resurrection of this title as part of their Archive Collection represents the first widescreen presentation of the film on home video. This is the preferred edition. Buyer beware - all others are bootlegs.

Colour fidelity is much improved over other editions. But there is still a considerable amount of age related debris, nicks, chips and scratches to wade through. Flesh tones are slightly too pink and occasionally the overall colour spectrum is muddier than anticipated. During a few sequences contrast levels appear slightly boosted. Otherwise, the transfer is vaguely consistent with fine detail visible in medium and close ups. The audio is mono and adequate for this presentation. There are NO extras.

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

2.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

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FASHIONS OF 1934 (WB 1934) Warner Archive Collection

2011-12-31T11:15:00.002-05:00

Bette Davis is given the ultra glam-bam treatment in William Dieterele's Fashions of 1934 (1934); a rather superfluous bit of claptrap and utter nonsense that stars William Powell as a loveable con 'artiste'. The screenplay by F. Hugh Herbert and Carl Erickson is a mindless, but passable escapism that casts Powell as Sherwood Nash - a fraud whose investment firm has just gone belly up.

Sherwood's partner, Snap (Frank McHugh) is in a dither over their sudden loss of income but rebounds quickly when he discovers Lynn Mason (Bette Davis) waiting for the elevator. The elegant Lynn is desperately trying to break into the fashion business but to no avail. Her predicament gives Nash an angle he is all too willing to exploit.

Nash's secretary Glenda (Dorothy Burgess) knows Harry Brent (Gordon Westcott) the chauffeur of leading couturier Oscar Baroque (Reginald Owen). For a small percentage Harry agrees to drive over Oscar's latest imports from Paris to Nash's storefront before delivering them to his boss. Nash gets Glenda, Lynn and a few other models to pose in the clothes. Snap takes their pictures and Lynn feverishly works to design knock offs at a fraction of the price, thereby undercutting Oscar and all the other designers in Manhattan.

Eventually the rouse is found out by Oscar. Harry is fired and Nash is threatened with prison. But Nash has another angle. He will go to Paris and act as a spy for Oscar, taking pictures of the leading Paris designs so that Oscar can beat them on the runways back home.

Once on the banks of the Seine, Lynn quickly discovers that Oscar's inspiration has come from nothing more than second hand history books purchased from street vendors. Barred from all the reputable fashion salons in Paris, Nash and Lynn decide to open up the Maison Elegance with clothing designs by Lynn forged with Oscar's signature.

In the meantime, Nash comes to realize that Oscar's fiancée, the Grand Duchess Alix (Verree Teasdale) is really Mabel McGuire, his old pal from Hoboken New Jersey. Threatening her with exposure, Nash gets Mabel to star in his musical revue, sporting a decadent gown of ostrich feathers. The review is a smash hit but Oscar has arrived to learn the truth behind what's been going on behind his back.

Oscar has Nash arrested and Maison Elegance shut down. Lynn, who has been harboring affections toward Nash for some time has had enough and vows never to speak to him again. But Nash is the slippery sort. He takes the police to Oscar's lavish abode on the eve of his wedding and confronts Oscar with the truth about Mabel. Outraged, Oscar is forced to release Nash from incarceration or face fallout in the tabloids from news of his sham marriage to a faux duchess. Nash dashes off to the pier and catches the clipper bound for America. He reunites with Lynn and vows to be true to her from now on. She forgives him and the two trot off together, presumably reconciled and on their way to the altar.

Fashions of 1934 is billed as a musical comedy, but actually it's more like a classic screwball with only one musical number to recommend it. But what a number it is! Staged with aplomb by Busby Berkeley, 'Spin A Little Web of Dreams' is a sumptuous fantasia of scantily clad girls preening in ostrich plumbs. Like all of Berkeley's most inspired creations this one is a bizarre cornucopia of conflicting imagery. The female form is re-imagined as everything from a throbbing bud of a feather laden peony to the rigid life size harp, and finally the bow of a ship sailing on carpets of flowing silk bunting.

Berkeley also stages a sublime fashion show at Maison Elegance. A revolving platform of famous works of art painted on transparent screens dissolve into living creations worn by models who step beyond the paintings to parade about the forecourt, surrounded by sycophantic admirers.

These two production numbers help elevate Fashions of 1934 above its rather conventional and not terribly prepossessing comedic trappings. William Powell is in fine form as the affable cheat; slick and stylish and in his element. But Bette Davis seems entirely out of place as Lynn - her larger than life persona desperate to break away from the platinum clothes horse concocted for her by Orry-Kelly. In the final analysis, Fashions of 1934 is a curious, but effortlessly amusing film. Without Berkeley's touches of genius there would be very little to recommend it.

Part of the Warner Archive, Fashions of 1934 gets an adequate home video release. But something is decidedly wrong with the title credits. After the 'First National' logo the screen suddenly goes black for an instant before a title card reading 'William Powell in Fashions' appears on a different backing than the rest of the main titles. This credit is held over for an excruciatingly long time before the rest of the sequence continues and it is my guess that this is a reissue title card plastered on for the film's re-release some years later - presumably so that the film's original title 'Fashions of 1934' would not date the re-release.

It would have been a nice touch if Warner Home Video had gone in search of the original title sequence because this version of the main titles doesn't really work. Otherwise, the transfer is middle of the road. Age related artefacts are everywhere and occasionally distract. But the gray scale has been very nicely balanced with strong blacks and clean whites, allowing William Rees' stylish cinematography to shine through. The image is crisp without being digitally harsh. All in all, a good effort. The audio is, of course, mono as originally recorded but also in fine form. The only extra is a theatrical trailer.

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

3.5

EXTRAS

LOVELY TO LOOK AT (MGM 1952) Warner Archive Collection

2011-12-22T10:15:00.002-05:00

Based on Alice Duer Miller's novel 'Gowns by Roberta' and more directly on the Broadway smash hit and subsequent film Roberta (1933), Mervyn LeRoy's Lovely To Look At (1952) retains the most durable aspects of the stage show and book while ever so slightly refreshing the bouquet of memorable songs for the postwar generation. Overall, the dated material holds together remarkably well, thanks to the winning score that features such immortal songs as 'Yesterdays' and 'Smoke Get In Your Eyes'.

The screenplay by Dorothy Fields, Otto A. Harbach, George Wells, Harry Ruby and Andrew Solt begins in the drawing room of aspiring Broadway producer Tony Naylor (Howard Keel) who, at present, is entertaining potential backers for his new show with a sampling from the score along with co-producers Al Marsh (Red Skelton) and Jerry Ralby (Gower Champion). The backers are enchanted by what they see and hear but less amused to learn that at present all Tony has to show for his efforts is inspiration and perspiration. They walk out without committing a single dollar to his venture.

Disillusioned, Tony, Al and Jerry decide to hit the nightclub where Tony's latest plaything, Bubbles Cassidy is performing. She wants to get married, but Tony is all fizz and no pop. The next day, Al gets the surprise of his life. His beloved Aunt Roberta has died in Paris, bequeathing him her couturier. Tony has another inspiration. The three will go to France, sell off the assets and use the money to finance their show on Broadway. A good plan, only upon their arrival they discover that Roberta is a couturier in steep financial decline. The shop's overseer, Stephanie (Kathryn Grayson) and her chief designer, Clarisse (Marge Champion) have been counting on Al to pull the company out of imminent financial ruin.

After some consternation Al agrees to help the girls. He has more trouble convincing Tony that it's the right thing to do. But Tony has already moved on, finagling a selloff of Roberta to rival Max Fogelsby (Kurt Kasznar) whose girlfriend, Zsa Zsa (Zsa Zsa Gabor) is hoping to be part of Roberta's fashion show extravaganza.

Meanwhile Jerry has fallen in love with Clarisse and Stephanie with Tony - although he is as ever reluctant to commit himself to any relationship for very long. Bubbles realizes that she has been romantically betting on the wrong horse, so to speak, and eventually decides to accept a proposal from Al. This leaves Tony free to pursue Stephanie. But a falling out between Tony and Al - after the latter learns that Tony has been wooing Stephanie merely to convince her to give up the couturier - threatens not only their future friendship but Stephanie's happiness as well.

For the most part the songs in Lovely to Look At are staged with great visual flare. 'I Won't Dance' is playfully performed by Marge and Gower Champion in the shop's attic, amidst cords of fabric and other fashion accessories. 'Lafayette' is a charming traveling song sung exuberantly by Howard Keel, Gower Champion and Red Skelton as the boys experience the pleasures of Paris en route to Roberta's.

The film's title song gets a clever treatment with Kathryn Grayson standing before six full length mirrors, fantasizing Howard Keel has materialized in each as a reflection to serenade her. But perhaps the most spectacularly realized song is 'Smoke Gets In Your Eyes' sung by Grayson and then danced by the Champions amidst a seemingly endless array of glistening stars set against velvety blue heavens.

Midway through filming director Mervyn LeRoy called in Vincente Minnelli to stage a lavish fashion show finale for the film. MGM also brought in its costume designer Adrian. But Adrian's cloths seem constantly at odds with the clutter in Jack D. Moore and Edwin Willis' production design. The result is a grand spectacle more garish than lovely, a crazy quilt of oddities and severely wacky haute couture.

Red Skelton serves as the hapless master of ceremonies, constantly in the way and tripping over the countless yards of silk bunting perpetually being moved around the pavilion. Models cavort between extras attired in animal skulls and metal breast plates. Amidst all this hullaballoo Marge and Gower Champion perform a strange pas deux as bejeweled gamin and lanky jewel thief, the latter in danger of having his own heart stolen.

Kathryn Grayson emerges from the fray warbling the melodic, 'The Touch of Your Hand' with Howard Keel - the romance between Stephanie and Tony reconciled in song before the final fade out. In all, the fashion show finale from Lovely To Look At is bewilderingly done in bad taste. It doesn't ruin the film as a whole, but it does tend to grate on one's nerves.

Warner's MOD DVD release is above average, though not spectacular. Lovely To look At received a Technicolor restoration all the way back in 1995 for its laserdisc release and this is the print we get from the Warner Archive. It's flawed with minor mis-registration problems. Age related artefacts are present throughout. Scratches are the most obvious and begin immediately during the title sequence.

When the image is properly aligned it exhibits a razor sharp clarity that is very impressive. Colours are less vibrant than one might expect and flesh tones are at times unnaturally pinky-orange. Contrast levels appear slightly bumped, for a slightly brighter than necessary image. Overall, this transfer will not disappoint, but this is hardly an exemplary effort. The audio is mono and offers some interesting spatial separation, particularly during the film's title song. There are NO extras.

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

EXTRAS

FOUR DAUGHTERS (WB 1938) Warner Archive Collection

2011-12-22T10:06:00.002-05:00

The family drama is a subgenre in cinema storytelling that Hollywood used to excel at during the 1930s and 40s. Modest stories about everyday folk were a daily staple of the American movie goers diet back then. Perhaps more than any other genre, the family drama nourished and satisfied our need to believe that happy endings were possible for everyone - even ourselves.

True enough, the people that populated these homespun narratives were dressed more smartly than the average ma and pa, and perhaps lived in surroundings more idyllic than our own, but otherwise their struggles, fears, hopes and dreams were not unlike ours. And we cherished the way these family units came together during times of joy and strife, always able to find a way on to a brighter tomorrow. Simple ideals, perhaps, but sold with tender aplomb and gentle understanding for life as it should - and possibly could - be.

Based on Fannie Hurst's celebrated novel, director Michael Curtiz's Four Daughters (1938) is the quintessential heartwarming - and, at times heartrending - melodrama. The film stars the Lane sisters, Pricilla, Rosemary and Lola, along with Gale Page, as the four siblings who find love and heartbreak in homespun America.

The screenplay written by Lenore J. Coffee and Julius J. Epstein effectively condenses Hurst's novel without losing any of its poignant reflections on quaint - almost bucolic - domesticity. The film opens in the front parlour of the Lemp family. Sisters Ann (Pricilla Lane), Emma (Gale Page), Thea (Thea Lane) and Kay (Rosemary Lane) are in the middle of a music recital conducted by their father, Adam (Claude Rains), who has great hopes for a classical music career for Kay even though she prefers modern jazz.

Thea excites the brood when she announces that she has finagled a date with Ben Crowley; a wealthy - slightly older suitor who will be able to fulfill her dreams of living well. Ben is hardly romantic. Nevertheless, Thea pursues Ben and eventually he proposes marriage. Emma has a steady beau too, flower shop owner Ernest Talbot (Dick Foran). Although Ernest's love is genuine, Emma is not entirely certain Ernest is the man for her. He's too placid and lacking in that spark and fire of romantic fantasy that Emma secretly yearns.

In the meantime, Adam has welcomed Felix Deitz (the sadly underrated Jeffrey Lynn in a stellar performance) into the family's home as a tenant. Felix is a brash but loveable and roguishly handsome composer. The shy and restrained Emma is immediately smitten with him, but Felix gravitates to the more gregarious Ann, who is quite unaware of her sister's affections.

Felix invites a friend, music arranger Mickey Borden (John Garfield, in the role that made him a star) to room with him as the two attempt to collaborate on songs. Although a brilliant arranger, Mickey is not terribly serious about life. His interests blow with the wind, to where his latest meal will come from. The Lemp family welcome Mickey into their fold and Mickey soon takes a subtle romantic interest in Ann, though she is as obtuse to his advances as she is to understanding how deep Emma's affections run for Felix.

Emma and Ann share a close sisterly bond, one that Ann has initially vowed never to break by getting married. However, when Felix proposes Ann accepts. In a last ditch effort to win Ann for himself, Mickey tells her on the day of her wedding that she will be ruining two lives if she goes through with the marriage. Unable to break her sisters heart, Ann instead elopes with Mickey - certain that her departure will lead to Felix falling in love with Emma. Instead, Felix leaves the Lemps, making a career for himself in the big city and Emma decides once and for all that Ernest is the man for her.

Four months pass. It's Christmas and the family reunite. Felix unexpectedly returns too, his mere presence creating romantic tension as everyone gathers around the radio for the evening's big surprise. Kay has landed a radio program with national sponsorship. Her debut is a smashing success that makes Adam very proud. But during the broadcast Ann accidentally drops the claim check from a bracelet Felix once gave her that she has since sold to help keep Mickey and she afloat. Felix decides to leave the Lemps, perhaps for good. Mickey offers to drive him to the station in Ben's car. At the last possible moment, Ben decides to tag along.

After Mickey drops Ben off at the corner drug store he confides his own selfish reasons for marrying Ann to Felix. Realizing that Mickey just might love Ann, Felix forgives him, offering a gift of money that he intended to give as a wedding present, then says goodbye. But as the train pulls from the station Mickey realizes what a heel he has been. He deliberately drives Ben's car at a full clip off the snowy road and into a ditch to commit suicide.

Meanwhile a phone call arrives at the Lemps informing them of the accident. However, since the car is in Ben's name the Lemps assume it is Ben, not Mickey who is mortally wounded and lying in the hospital. When Ann, Adam and Thea arrive at the hospital Thea, who has been growing rather cold and distant from her husband, realizes just how much she loves him. Ann and Mickey are briefly reunited. He smiles at her tenderly, then dies.

In the Spring Felix returns to the Lemps, swinging on their rusty gate. Ann rushes to his side and the two embrace. They are at last free to love as their hearts dictate.

Four Daughters is a beautifully constructed, superbly scripted and impeccably acted melodrama. The entire cast is working overtime, but with a freshness and congeniality that seems unstrained. It's a wonder that Jeffrey Lynn never made a bigger splash in movies as a leading man. His performance is a standout. So is John Garfield's. This film made him a star. The Lane sisters give it their all, and it is saying much of the two lesser, Lola and Rosemary, that although their parts are not as well delineated in the script they manage to distinguish themselves as memorable siblings. In retrospect, Pricilla Lane is the outstanding find, her plucky personality and commanding presence a definite plus.

In many ways Four Daughters marks the definite break Warner Brothers began to make in the mid-30s away from 'ripped from the headlines' gangster/crime movies into the foray of lush and memorable romantic dramas and comedies that would pit the studio in direct competition with MGM for its box office during the 1940s. Ernest Haller's sumptuous cinematography captures the simple beauty of mid-town America and its surrounding rural landscapes. Here is a world of cleanliness and wholesomeness, of tidy little homes and churches nestled against rolling hills with babbling brooks and wild honeysuckle.

Bottom line: the family drama doesn't get much better than this. Four Daughters is an unpretentious slice of life told with an understanding heart and patience for exposition that we don't see in movies anymore. It has strong characters, great humanity and real charisma; the true hallmarks of an enduring cinematic masterpiece.

It's a pity this title didn't get a Blu-ray release but instead has gone straight to the Warner MOD Archive. This is the second outing for this movie in the archive, remastered this time around for improved picture quality. The elements are still in rough shape, but the gray scale is greatly improved with contrast levels appearing bang on. At times the image is a tad thick with fine detail wanting. Otherwise, this is a nicely transferred attempt at preserving the film as it currently exists. But age related artefacts are everywhere and, in a few instances, distract. The audio is mono but adequate for this presentation. There are NO extras!

Parting thoughts: Four Daughters gets my vote for a Blu-ray upgrade with a new restored 1080p hi-def master and perhaps some extra features like an audio commentary and featurette. This film belongs in everyone's library. It's a winner, a charmer and a joy to experience.

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

4.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

3.5

EXTRAS

HOLLYWOOD PARTY (MGM 1934) Warner Archive Collection

2011-12-20T18:54:00.001-05:00

Patched together by directors Richard Boleslawski, Allan Dwan, Edmund Goulding, Russell Mack, Charles Reisner, Roy Rowland, George Stevens and Sam Wood, MGM's lavishly absurd send-up to decadence on the west coast, Hollywood Party (1934) remains the grand daddy of all such nonsensical ensemble pieces. All the studios made films like this during the 1930s to show off their glittering star power. But none could rival MGM's supremacy for glamour.

The premise of Howard Dietz, Arthur Kober, Richy Craig Jr., Herbert Fields, Edmund Goulding, Henry Myers, Edgar Allen Woolf's screenplay is simplistic to a fault. Then again, you aren't watching star cavalcades like this one for plot. In a nutshell, the narrative centers on Jimmy Durante (playing himself). On screen Durante is the Great Schnarzan, a spoof of Tarzan, wrestling dead lions and chasing after his Jane (played on the screen by sultry Spanish starlet, Lupe Velez. Velez would make a name for herself as one of Hollywood's most bizarre suicides in 1944, discovered face down in a toilet after succumbing to an overdose of barbiturates.)

In this film Ms. Velez is very much alive, however, and full of vinegar for Durante after he snubs her by not inviting her to his over-the-top house party. The whole affair is being given in honour of Baron Munchausen (Bob Pearl); a big game hunter whose lions are wanted by Durante to co-star in his next big picture in order to resurrect his waning popularity with fans.

In another corner are the Clemps: Harvey (Charles Butterworth), Henrietta (Polly Moran) and daughter Linda (June Clyde) - newly arrived from Texas. Harvey is a millionaire oil baron who enjoys tearing up thousand dollar bills in public to attest to his fortune. But he is unnaturally quite obtuse to virtually any and all romantic inquiries made about either his daughter or his wife.

Durante's biggest rival, Liondora (George Givot) attempts to woo Linda, then Harvey to gain access to the millionaire's backing for Munchausen's lions. But as luck would have it neither will get what they want out of the night's festivities.

The film wildly ricochets between vignettes as far reaching and eclectic as a cartoon sequence featuring Mickey Mouse and 'Hot Chocolate Soldiers' to the arrival of Ted Healy and The Three Stooges playing a pack of misguided autograph hounds. Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy turn up in the last act as the original owners of Munchausen's lions - intent on collecting their fury friends after they discover they've been duped by the Baron.

Durante seduces Henrietta but is unable to consummate their affair when the lions are unleashed from their cages. Striking his head on the stairs, Durante awakes in his own home with his real wife (Jeanne Olsen) at his side. The whole night has been just a dream concocted after reading Edgar Rice Burroughs' Tarzan The Ape Man.

At its core, Hollywood Party is an utterly mindless trifle. There's no point to anything we see on the screen. It's just pure entertainment. And therein lies the film's success. It isn't pretending to be anything but a cavalcade of great stars doing wonderfully absurd things for which the rest of their careers were made justly famous. This is a wonderful opportunity to see a lot of 'acts' get into the act of performing without being bothered by needless exposition. Like a night in Vaudeville, Hollywood Party comes across as delightful and silly. It's grand good fun, even if it is completely pointless.

Warner Home Video's MOD DVD is very solid. Given the film's age and the fact that no restoration work has been performed on this title, the transfer holds up remarkably well. It's sharp and consistent with considerable grain. But age related artefacts are kept at bay for the most part. Process shots and dissolves are grainy, but otherwise the image is fairly smooth and satisfying. Contrast seems slightly bumped up. The audio is mono. Occasionally, it's strident but otherwise passable if not exceptional. Warner has seen fit to give us a rare audio vault of extras - 9 outtakes of songs both featured and left on the cutting room floor. Recommended!

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

EXTRAS

HONOLULU (MGM 1939) Warner Archive Collection

2011-12-20T18:47:00.001-05:00

Mistaken identities and dead ringer twins are at the crux of Edward Buzzell's Honolulu (1939); a charmingly obtuse musical comedy: heavy on the comedy - light on the music. Very light, in fact, for MGM, the studio that practically invented and certainly would go on to perfect the musical genre during the next two decades. Inspired by stories of doppelgangers, the screenplay patched together by Herbert Fields, Frank Partos and Harry Ruskin is an effortless trifle, easy on the eye and ear but unremarkable in virtually every way...well, almost.

The film stars Robert Young as movie matinee idol, Brooks Mason. Mobbed at every turn by his adoring fans Brooks desires nothing more than peace away from the fray of adulation. So when Honolulu pineapple plantation owner George Smith - a man who could pass for Mason's twin - is practically torn limb from limb after one of Brooks' premieres it gives Brooks a great idea that is soon to become a colossal headache.

Brooks and George will trade places and lives for a spell so that Brooks can get away from life in the fast lane. Unhappy circumstance for George who quickly finds himself caught in a revolving door at Manhattan's Memorial Hospital after he is throttled by yet another flock of sycophants. Brooks' agent, Joe Duffy (George Burns), who isn't in on the gag thinks his meal ticket has clearly lost his mind and feverishly works to sedate George until a cure for his 'condition' can be ironed out by the doctors.

In the meantime, Brooks - masquerading as George - is having the time of his life. Aboard a luxury liner bound for Honolulu Brooks meets winsome dancer Dorothy March (Eleanor Powell) and her travelling companion, Millicent DeGrasse (Gracie Allen). Millicent rightly pegs Brooks as the Hollywood star of her dreams - a truth he vehemently denies, all the while pursuing Dorothy during their shipboard romance.

But once on the mainland of the Hawaiian islands, Brooks has to face George's fiancée Cecelia Grayson (Rita Johnson). Mistaking Brooks for George, she is briefly startled by George's transformation from congenial pineapple grower to charming ladies man. Brooks sweeps Cecelia off her feet for George's sake. But this creates a rift in Brook's relationship with Dorothy.

After some cleverly timed delays Cecelia's father, Horace (Clarence Kolb) finally forces Brook's hand in marriage. In the nick of time George turns out for his own nuptials. Dorothy forgives Brooks and the two are married. Millicent takes a shine to Joe and introduces him to her sister (also played by Allen). Utterly bewildered at seeing 'doubles' yet again Joe faints in the lagoon.

Honolulu is a fairly effervescent comedy. The musical program is scant at best. Gracie Allen sings a charming but brief ditty that Powell dances to briefly aboard ship. Powell also does a blackface routine that is meant as homage to her dancing idol, Bill 'Bojangles' Robinson. But the standout routine in the film is undoubtedly the Hawaiian chant that comes at the tail end of the film's third act. Powell, in grass skirt and bare feet performs a fresh and sultry dance before donning a pair of heels to tap out the final act.

Robert Young is quite good at playing twins. True enough, there's very little difference between Brooks and his alter ego, but Young and some clever split screen work make the rouse hold up. Enough cannot be said about Eleanor Powell, a gorgeous and gifted performer who, sadly, has largely been forgotten today except amongst die hard classic film fans. Her legacy endures as the lady who is tops in taps. But we need to remember her more.

Warner Home Video's MOD DVD transfer is solid, if flawed. No attempt has been made to clean up age related artefacts. They are present and on occasion distracting. Thankfully, Warner has 'remastered' the transfer to eliminate the ton of edge enhancement that has always plagued TV broadcasts of this film. The image is fairly solid with only a hint here and there of those nasty edge effects.

The gray scale seems a tad 'thick' with fine detail frequently less than what one might expect. Nevertheless, the image is reasonably sharp throughout, showcasing Ray June's slick and stylized cinematography to good effect. The audio is mono but quite aggressive, particularly during the Hawaiian chant dance routine. The drums are clear sounding and loud. There are NO extras. Recommended!

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

3.5

EXTRAS

SHIP AHOY (MGM 1942) Warner Archive Collection

2011-12-20T11:46:00.003-05:00

Considered a minor offering when it premiered, viewed today Edward Buzzell's Ship Ahoy (1942) is a rather glowing, buoyant and glamorous affair that casts Eleanor Powell and Red Skelton together in their first film. Its screenplay, written by Matt Brooks, Bradford Ropes and Bert Kalmar, is par for the course of films set during WWII - full of foolish espionage and the hint of Nazis off camera. Ship Ahoy is also notable for the first on screen appearance of Frank Sinatra in an MGM movie. He's hardly showcased, but gets a chance to warble a few lines of two of the movies best songs before disappearing into the background.

Eleanor Powell plays Tallulah Winters, a standout dancer with the Tommy Dorsey orchestra. After a rousing run on the Great White Way their troop is bound for Puerto Rico to give a command performance on the floating nightclub of Pietro Polesi (Bernard Nedell).

Actually, Pietro is a spy working for the Axis powers along with Dr. Farno (John Emery). Farno and Polesi present themselves backstage to Tallulah as FBI agents who have been assigned the dangerous task of carrying a magnetic bomb component to Puerto Rico. They convince Tallulah that she will be doing the U.S. government a great service if she will smuggle the device in her luggage. Tallulah happily agrees.

Meanwhile, in another part of Manhattan pulp fiction writer and hypochondriac, Merton Kibble (Red Skelton) is nearing mental and physical burnout. To calm his nerves his agent, Skip Owens (Bert Lahr) lies and says Merton's doctor has suggested they both take an ocean voyage. Actually Owens just wants to go to Puerto Rico to pursue his sweetheart, Fran Evans (Virginia O'Brien).

The foursome hook up on board their ship with Tallulah instantly taking a liking to Merton, whose bumbling ineptitude with a deck chair she finds utterly charming. As for Merton, Tallulah proves just the magic elixir he needs to steady his nerves. Their romance continues to blossom until Merton's editor sends a cable, demanding that he finish off his pulp series, 'Olga' - the tale of a spy. Merton dictates the final chapter to Skip. But Tallulah accidentally overhears Merton's dictation, assumes his offhand derogatory comments are about her and their romance and decides then and there to cut Merton loose.

As the ship docks in Puerto Rico Merton is perplexed by Tallulah's sudden despondency. In the last minute shuffle their similar luggage is switched and Merton winds up with the magnetic bomb which he is unable to move from the ship's metal floor. Eventually, Tallulah realizes what has happened and finagles an exchange of luggage, handing over the bomb to Pietro aboard his floating nightclub, still believing she is doing good work for the U.S. government.

Merton realizes the truth about their host but also learns that Tallulah is blameless. Pietro and Dr. Farno imprison Merton and Skip in the ship's cargo hold and force Tallulah to go on with her lavish production number to keep the real FBI agents at bay. Instead, Tallulah taps out a distress message in Morris Code, revealing to the agents the real identity of the Axis spies and the whereabouts of the magnetic bomb.

Ship Ahoy may not be a top tier MGM musical, but it is a very lavish, stylish and fun loving second tier effort put forth with A-list effort by the entire cast. Skelton and Lahr are great comic foils together. Skelton's easy going nature tames Lahr's more gregarious leering. More importantly, the romantic chemistry between Skelton and Powell is spot on believable. Lahr and O'Brien also have a good run of bad romantic chemistry too - forever at odds but loveably so. I suppose the right word for this sea faring excursion is 'charming...quite charming.' The musical numbers are a mixed bag, but fairly appealing.

Powell taps the hell out of 'Tallulah' - a spectacular shipboard number performed by Tommy Dorsey and his Band. She also gets a matador tap number as well as the finale, a bit too reminiscent of the 'Three Cheers for the Red White and Blue' finale from Born To Dance (1938) for my tastes and not nearly as effective. Dorsey also opens the program with (curiously) a Hawaiian War Chant. The number features drummer Buddy Rich to good effect but really doesn't give Powell much of a chance to shine.

Robert Planck's cinematography sparkles in glorious B&W and Cedric Gibbons' art direction is first rate. In the final analysis, Ship Ahoy is a fun way to kill a couple of hours on the high seas.

Warner Home Video's MOD DVD presents the film in a mostly appealing transfer. Age related artefacts are present throughout but mostly do not distract. Aside: I noticed a rather obvious hair caught in the lower center gate of the image during the Tallulah number that is distracting. Otherwise, scratches and tears are kept to a minimum. The gray scale has been impeccably rendered with a solid amount of fine detail and good tonality throughout. Contrast levels are very accurately realized. The audio is mono but acceptable with minimal hiss and pop. Aside from a trailer there are NO extras. Recommended!

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

3.5

EXTRAS

DUCHESS OF IDAHO (MGM 1950) Warner Archive Collection

2011-12-20T11:40:00.001-05:00

Everything seems to be coming to close in Robert Z. Leonard's Duchess of Idaho (1950) a middling Esther Williams musical melange that has the mermaid take to the pool twice in two utterly gaudy - rather than glistening - aqua ballets. The film marks the final on screen appearance of Eleanor Powell, the 'tops in taps' dancer extraordinaire who once dominated MGM's musical landscape. Hardly as light on her feet as she had once been, Powell is nevertheless fantastic, her electricity generating what little spark the film has during the latter half of this hapless boy meets girl/boy loses girl/boy sings song and gets girl rehash.

Duchess of Idaho also rounds out Lena Horne's MGM contract as the 'walk on' chanteuse of colour whose numbers could easily be excised from film prints in the south. She sings 'Baby Come Out of the Clouds' as a nightclub entertainer. It's only a so-so song and staged with about as much aplomb, employing a funky slime green curtain that envelopes the orchestra directly behind her. The last 'surprise' cameo in the film is Red Skelton, who literally comes in to make a snide comment and do a pratfall before departing. None of these alumni is particularly well served by their all too brief appearances in this film, but they give it their all anyway.

The claptrap of a plot patched together by Dorothy Cooper, Jerry Davis and Sid Fields has Esther Williams cast as aquacade beauty Christine Riverton Duncan. Chris rooms in a ritzy apartment with Ellen Hallitt (Paula Raymond); secretary to wealthy industrialist, Douglas Morrison (John Lund). Ellen is forlorn. For although she proves herself an admirable 'his girl Friday' capable of plucking her randy boss out of any romantic entanglement he steps into, he doesn't even know she is alive, much less in love with him.

After Morrison cancels a romantic rendezvous with Ellen at Sun Valley Chris decides to take matters into her own hands. She takes the first train to Sun Valley in hot pursuit of Morrison. The idea is to lure him into a romance, then break his heart, convincing him that Ellen is the right girl for him. Ludicrous, indeed!

The narrative slightly derails when Chris meets band leader Dick Layne (Van Johnson) who utterly refuses to give up on his infatuation with her. At first Chris finds Layne a bore. Gradually, she warms up to his somewhat abrasive charm, but cannot publicly acknowledge her change of heart or risk ruining her deception towards Morrison.

Eventually, the whole mess unravels with Ellen making a B-line for Sun Valley to take Morrison in hand, exposing Chris to ridicule from Dick. Wounded feelings all around are eventually quelled when Morrison professes his love and proposes marriage to Ellen. Chris apologizes to Dick and the two are reunited in their romance.

Duchess of Idaho's plot is lousy. The film is rescued from being terrible by its many musical offerings - an abundance of riches belted out in rapid succession and inserted whenever the dullness of the romance threatens to topple the whole excursion into oblivion. Mel Torme is wasted in the walk on part of Cyril the bellhop, whose one number 'Warm Hands, Cold Heart' was left on the cutting room floor. But newcomer Connie Haines (as Peggy Elliott) gets two plum songs (Choo Choo Choo to Idaho, and, Of All Things) delivered with spritely exuberance.

The film's most memorable song is probably 'You Can't Do Wrong Doing Right' - a sort of jazzy spiritual sung by Van Johnson, Haines and other members of the Dick Layne orchestra (actually, The Jubalaires). None of these songs have anything to do with the plot. In fact, there isn't even a romantic ballad to underscore the burgeoning romances in the film. The fact that Esther Williams and John Lund remain mute for the musical program also creates a curious vacuum in the entertainment.

Esther's two water logged aquacade numbers are really second rate, using the same pool set from This Time For Keeps (1947), only slightly redressed and with a bunch of muscle men in Grecian attire who spend most of their time in the waves tossing Ms. Williams amongst them. Bottom line: with all the talent on tap for this outing so much more ought to have come of it than ultimately did. This isn't a great or even good Esther Williams musical. It's just present and accounted for.

The same can justly be said of Warner Home Video's flat MOD DVD offering. The image sports fairly accurate colours. But frequently there are Technicolor misregistration problems that create halos in the image. Occasionally the image sharpens up so that we can see some fine detail. But mostly the visuals are softly focused and somewhat blurry. Edge enhancement is also present. Colours are obviously faded during rear projection shots. Not what I expected and arguably, not what the film deserves. Age related artefacts are present but do not distract - much. The audio is satisfactory, though hardly stellar. Extras include two excised musical numbers - one from Lena Horne, the other from Mel Torme, and the film's theatrical trailer.

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

2.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

2.5

EXTRAS

RED SKELTON WHISTLING COLLECTION (MGM 1941, 42, 43) Warner Archive Collection

2011-12-19T17:50:00.003-05:00

Whistling with the likes of Red Skelton is to observe a master comic plying his craft with the nimblest slights of dialogue, giddy, absurd and peppering our appreciation of good humour in scathing double entendre. By the time Skelton donned the persona of Wally 'the Fox' Benton Whistling in the Dark was a film twice removed from its source material. The original Broadway 1932 play had been such a smash that it was quickly turned into a middling film the following year. Undaunted by the previous film's lacklustre performance, MGM dusted off this time honoured chestnut and gave it to Skelton - then a rising star on their back lot. The results: sheer comedic poetry - a laugh-a-minute festival of the obtuse.

It is important to note that although solving crimes is part of the melange of these movies the crimes themselves are incidental - or perhaps not even important - to the exercising of Red Skelton's comic style. The screenplay for Whistling in the Dark by Robert MacGunigle, Harry Clork, Alber Mannheimer, Eddie Moran and Elliot Nugent is a patchwork of one liners and warhorse stage humour that make even less of the thriller aspects than the original Lawrence Gross/Edward Childs play.

In director S. Sylvan Simon's Whistling in the Dark (1941) Wally (Skelton) is a radio personality perennially engaged to sweetheart, Carol Lambert (Ann Rutherford). Carol is jealous of the sponsor's daughter, Fran Post (Virginia Gray) - a contrivance soon jettisoned when Wally gets himself kidnapped by cult leader, Joseph Jones (Conrad Veidt). Joe has led an exemplary life dedicated to the cheap swindle, pitching phoney religion to the feather-headed while lightening their pockets at his out of the way religious retreat.

But when one of his 'parishioners' dies, Joe learns that he will have access to her millions once her only living heir - nephew Harvey Upshaw (Lloyd Corrigan) bites the dust. To hasten the inevitable and get his hands on the money, Joe sends his driver Sylvester (Rags Ragland) and henchman, Noose Green (Don Costello) to kidnap Wally. Joe has decided from listening to Wally's latest broadcast that he is the only one capable of concocting a diabolical murder plot that the police will be unable to solve. To secure Wally's compliance, Joe also has his goons take Carol and Fran hostage.

The rest of the plot is inconsequential at best, with too many plausible loopholes in its construction to be believed. Wally, Carol and Fran trade barbs and skulk around Joe's religious retreat, biding their time with futile plans of escape while Noose and Sylvester go after Upshaw, intent on carrying out whatever plot Wally concocts.

Whistling in the Dark was so successful that MGM immediately launched into a sequel, Whistling in Dixie (1942). If anything, the crime story concocted by Nat Perrin, Wilkie C. Mahoney, Lawrence Hazard and Jonathan Latimer is even more unremarkable this second time around. After Carol gets a phone call from her old sorority sister, Ellamae Downs (Diana Lewis) she convinces Wally to head to Georgia to solve the murder of Martin Gordon (Mark Daniels) who was doing some sort of excavation at an old Confederate Fort.

Wally and Carol are met at the station by Ellamae, her cousin Hattie Lee (Celia Travers), her father, Judge George Lee (Guy Kibbee) and their driver, Chester Conway (Rags Ragland) - Sylvester's twin brother. Having sent Sylvester to prison at the end of the first movie, Wally is concerned that his twin harbours the same murderous feelings toward him. On the contrary, Chester proves congenial and harmless. But wait - Sylvester has escaped prison and is currently on his way to the old southern plantation. Meanwhile Sherriff Claude Staggs (George Bancroft) and DA Frank Bailey (Peter Whitney) are in cahoots to unearth a buried treasure of real gold confederate coins - the real reason Gordon was murdered in the first place.

The plot of Whistling in Dixie may be pure pulp. But the nonstop cavalcade of sharp shooting jokes is smart and hilarious. At one point the narrative balances a case of mistaken identity (Wally gets Chester and Sylvester confused) and a brawl between Carol, Hattie and Ellamae that no man, much less Wally, can break up with predictable, but riotous results.

As a narrative, Whistling in Brooklyn (1943) is the third and weakest of the three films. Wilkie Mahoney, Nat Perrin and Stanley Roberts' screenplay doesn't even try to be clever, but instead relies almost exclusively on Red Skelton's comedic brilliance to carry off what can only be described as a convoluted mish-mash of a plot. Wally and Carol have decided to get married. But before they can make it to the altar Wally is accused of being 'Constant Reader': a terrorist who taunts the police with letters that foreshadow upcoming crimes.

Jean Pringle (Jean Rogers) is the reporter assigned to cover Wally's story. But she quickly becomes part of the plot, being hunted by thugs loyal to DA Grover Kendell (Ray Collins - entirely unsuitable as the heavy). To escape incarceration Wally joins The Beavers; a professional baseball team who all sport very long beards and are pitted against the Brooklyn Dodgers in a game that laughably goes awry once Wally has shaved their star pitcher.

Predictably, Wally solves the mystery behind 'Constant Reader', leading Inspector Holcomb (Henry O'Neill) to a retired tub moored at the Brooklyn docks where Kendell and the real Creeper (Sam Levene) are hiding out.

Viewing these films today is like a peering into a window from another more innocent time. Skelton's comic genius is timeless to be sure. But he is surrounded by 40s pastiche that attempts - mostly in vane - to set up and then dismantle the premises of vintage film noir while standing the conventions of the crime thriller on end. I never understood Wally's radio persona nickname 'The Fox' since his character seems to howl more like a wolf. Oh well, a minor point, I suppose.

The rest of the cast, particularly Rags Ragland, are a veritable who's who of bit players that really enjoy their fleeting moments of notoriety in these otherwise one man shows dedicated to Skelton's brilliance as a comic. Ann Rutherford is forgettable, but we catch glimpses of Eve Arden (Buzz Baker in 'Dark') and Lucien Littlefield (Corp. Lucken in 'Dixie') as well as other memorable faces in support that make these films a loving catalogue of old favorites paraded for our amusement and entertainment.

If you go into any of these movies with the premise that they are detective thrillers with a comic edge (as, say, The Thin Man series) you will be utterly disappointed. The 'Whistling' trilogy is nothing more than a narrative excuse for the writers and Red Skelton to pitch their hats and jokes on. Both the writers and Skelton do this extremely well, like tossing horseshoes at the fair. And if you want to laugh then the Whistling series definitely attains a high water mark that few films past or present can lay claim to. These are fun flicks - though nothing more.

Warner Home Video has made all three movies available in one MOD archive collection with fairly impressive results. Whistling in the Dark has obviously been the benefactor of some digital restoration beforehand and the results are impressive. The gray scale is beautifully balanced. The image is crisp and mostly free of age related artefacts. Contrast levels are bang on.

The other two movies in this collection don't fare as well, but they're hardly write offs. Whistling in Dixie's image is a tad softer but not deplorably so. Age related artefacts are present throughout but these don't distract either. The last film in the series also adds a modicum of edge enhancement and shimmering of fine details. But again, these distractions are kept to a bare minimum. The audio on all three movies is mono and adequately represented with minimal hiss and pop. The only extra features are theatrical trailers for all three movies. Recommended!

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

Whistling in the Dark 3.5

Whistling in Dixie 3

Whistling in Brooklyn 2.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

Whistling in the Dark 4

Whistling in Dixie 3

Whistling in Brooklyn 3

EXTRAS

THE ENCHANTED COTTAGE (RKO 1945) Warner Archive Collection

2011-12-19T16:06:00.002-05:00

W. H. Auden once said that "a daydream is a meal at which images are eaten." He might just as well have been referring to the classic Hollywood movie - an endless source of digestible fantasy to satisfy our every whim.

The human condition is fraught with inconsistencies. Most of us spend ample time daydreaming 'what if' and 'if only' scenarios to supplement the stark inadequacies in our daily lives. It is this fertile escapism that illuminates John Cromwell's The Enchanted Cottage (1945); a strangely moving, overly sentimental excursion into romantic fantasy that still manages to retain much of its timeless allure, mostly because the performances given by its three principle leads are solid and appealing. Based on the 1923 play by Arthur Wing Pinero, the film is a sustained illusion - an almost magical hallucination that happily intoxicates its audience on its ether.

The plot involves two fateful souls; physically wounded/psychologically scarred American pilot Oliver Bradford (Robert Young) and mousy wallflower/housemaid Laura Pennington (Dorothy McGuire). Oliver first comes to the cottage with his haughty fiancée Beatrice Alexander (Hillary Brooke) before his accident. The two have envisioned their honeymoon there...or that is, Oliver has heard of the cottage's reputation for consecrating lifelong happiness and therefore desires that his own union should start off on the right foot.

The two are met by the cottage's housekeeper, Abigail Minnett (Mildred Natwick) and her assistant, Laura Pennington. Abigail came to the cottage a young bride during the first world war. Unhappy chance that her husband was killed in the conflict, leaving her to oversee the pleasure of other couples who rent the cottage and make it their own intimate retreat. Oliver attempts to carve his and Beatrice's names in a pane of window glass with her diamond engagement ring- a tradition of sorts at the cottage, But the stone is dislodged from its setting instead; an ominous precursor that foreshadows their break up.

Oliver's over possessive mother, Violet Price (Spring Byington) and meddling stepfather, Frederick (Richard Gaines) are perplexed by Oliver's choice of venue to start off his marriage. Adjacent the ruins of a grand estate that burned to the ground long ago, the cottage is unremarkable in every sense, nestled on a parcel of bleak land facing a rather restless sea and craggy cliff. Surely a more fashionable abode would do the engaged couple better. Alas, any plans are dashed when Oliver is called into service. He is downed and wounded, his face disfigured by a large gash and scar, his mouth twisted to one side and his left arm paralyzed.

Perceiving his own freakish appearance as repulsive Oliver retreats from his family to the cottage alone. He is waited on by Mrs. Minnett but tenderly coaxed from self imposed exile by Laura and through the understanding heart of their neighbour, Major John Hillgrove (Herbert Marshall); who found his true calling as a famed composer and concert pianist only after being blinded in WWI.

Then a strange thing occurs. As Oliver tells it to John he awoke one morning to miraculously discover his former self restored and Laura, whom he has steadily been harbouring romantic feelings towards, suddenly transformed into a beautiful woman.

Naturally, John is shocked by Oliver's revelation. But he is also greatly pleased to learn how the strength of their love has mended Oliver's corrosive self pity and cured Laura of her inability to appreciate her own innate value. Rejoiced and renewed, Oliver invites his mother and stepfather to the cottage where he intends to break the news of his marriage to Laura.

Only, the restoration of Oliver and Laura is a cerebral myth - a play upon both their minds that has come to them from the magic of the cottage. They see one another as resurrected people. But the world can only see them as they are; scarred and physically ugly. With only Ted Tezlaff's clever cinematography to assist, the scene where Violet and Frederick inadvertently make this truth known to Oliver and Laura is both startling and heartbreaking.

After Violet and Frederick leave the disheartened couple to their realization John reveals a fundamental truth to Oliver and Laura - that nothing has changed. In their eyes they will always be young and beautiful - a myth of the cottage perhaps, but one that will endure and sustain them for the rest of their lives.

The film concludes with John giving a private concert for his friends at his home. Oliver and Laura approach the front door as they are. But as they turn to look at each other their faith in the dream endures. They are once again a contented, handsome couple who can face the world together.

The Enchanted Cottage is poignantly wrought entertainment. The premise sounds hokey, but is carried off with such tenderness that it is easily becomes believable. It may be just me, but I've never found Robert Young capable of having true romantic chemistry with any of his leading ladies. He reminds me of the elegant suitor - good to look at but utterly void of the manly lust factor that made actors like Clark Gable and Robert Mitchum such great romantic leads. His Oliver isn't particularly engaging, but he need not be when flanked by Dorothy McGuire and Herbert Marshall's impeccable performances.

McGuire in particular captures the angst and insecurity of a young woman yearning for love, only to discover it in the unlikeliest suitor. Herbert Marshall (whom I have never seen give a bad performance) is superb as the introspective catalyst responsible for bringing Oliver and Laura closer together. In the final analysis, The Enchanted Cottage is an exceptionally affectionate and affecting piece of romantic cinema. It can justly be said that 'they don't make 'em like this anymore!'

The tragedy of this Warner Archive MOD release is that no one at the studio seems to think this vintage catalogue title warrants anything more than a slap-dash transfer, so horribly marred by age related ravages that it is barely hanging on by a thread. The video is a mess. Boosted contrast levels result in a thoroughly faded print. The gray scale is washed out. Fine detail is a non-issue. There is none!

The image is frequently blurry and always softly focused. Speckles, scratches, tears and missing frames riddle this presentation. Truly, there is NOTHING to recommend this transfer. The audio is mono and fares considerably better than the video, only occasionally suffering from slight hiss and pop. There are NO extras. Not recommended!

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

3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

EXTRAS

STARS AND STRIPES FOREVER: Blu-ray (Fox 1952) Fox Home Video

2011-12-15T11:17:00.002-05:00

John Philip Sousa's life and legacy were arguably immortalized in Henry Koster's Stars and Stripes Forever (1952): one of the last movies released by 20th Century-Fox in the traditional Academy aspect ratio and in 3-strip Technicolor. The results, alas, are less than colorful. Based on Sousa's autobiography, 'Marching Along' the screenplay by Ernest Vajda adheres very closely to the historical record, perhaps too closely for the big glossy musical that Fox was used to producing at this time. To liberate the narrative from its rather uneventful proceedings Vajda creates an entirely fictional character, Willie Little (Robert Wagner) who serves as the story's young love interest along with Debra Paget.

Although Clifton Webb delivers an indelible performance as the band leader with a penchant for pomp and circumstance the resultant exercise proves curiously lifeless and rather charm free. Perhaps part of the problem with the film is that its subject matter is both middle aged (a kiss of death in Hollywood films) and stoically unanimated. Nor does Sousa's music, however rousing (and it is most certainly that) warrant or even lend itself to any sort of visual interpretation or choreography other than a stiff march. Since Sousa did very little marching himself, this leaves Charles G. Clarke's cinematography with nothing else to do but photograph static shots of Webb passionately conducting. It's a tough sell because we're so used to seeing movie musicals that...well...move.

Our story opens in 1890 as Marine Sergeant Major John Philip Sousa (Clifton Webb) is about to resign his commission from the Marine Corp Band. Sousa is despondent that only his marches - not his ballads - have been embraced by the public. His ever loving wife, Jane 'Jennie' Middleworth (Ruth Hussey) is supportive of her husband's decision even if Major George Porter Houston (Roy Roberts) has his misgivings.

Sousa is greatly impressed by the cheek of a young Marine private, Willie Little (Robert Wagner) who attempts to reason away a drunken midnight brawl that has left him bloody, black-eyed and bandaged. Little further ingratiates himself to Sousa by modifying a conventional tuba and rechristening it the Sousa-phone in Sousa's honour. In reality Sousa created and patented the instrument himself.

Willie coaxed Sousa to attend a bawdy Vaudeville performance given by his sweetheart, Lily Becker (Debra Paget). But the theatre is raided by the police because of a report of public indecency (the dancer's costumes are too skimpy) forcing Sousa, Willie and Lily to flee. Back at Sousa's home, Willie finagles an audition of sorts for Lily. But her garish musical styling is more a diversion of the limbs than a celebration of the song. Sousa encourages Lily to take singing lessons to improve her prospects. She agrees, but frequently clashes with her tutor (Romo Vincent).

In the meantime, Sousa debuts his new march Semper Fidelis at a White House reception hosted by President Benjamin Harrison (Roy Gordon) and the First Lady (Helen Van Tuyl). Sousa is awarded a special medal for the song - the only Sousa composition to receive official recognition from the U.S. government. Sousa informs Houston that he will not be re-enlisting in the Marines as he intends to form his own civilian band. He also takes Willie Little with him to New York to hold open auditions.

Still intent on finding a spot for Lily in Sousa's troop, Willie lies that the band leader has shown a marked interest in having her come with them on tour. Instead, Sousa - who knows nothing of Willie's deceptions - hires trained opera singer Mme. Estelle Liebling (Aileen Carlyle); a move that infuriates Lily to no end.

Sousa's civilian band is a colossal hit and they tour with increasing regularity, culminating in a world class showing at the Chicago World's Fair. Sousa is nicknamed 'the march king'. Meanwhile Lily's prospects, both professional and personal, culminate in her secret marriage to Willie and Sousa offering her to tour with the band. Unfortunately, Sousa does not approve of band members being married to one another. Nevertheless, Jennie encourages the marriage, informing both Willie and Lily to keep it a secret.

When Sousa is informed that their performance at the Cotton States Exposition is to be cancelled, presumably because marching bands don't fill the stands, Sousa willfully ushers his band onto the exposition fair grounds for an impromptu engagement where they are an immediate hit. Sousa accidentally discovers that Willie and Lily are married but agrees to keep his knowledge of their marriage a secret. He furthers Lily's career by promoting her in several lavish stage numbers with the band.

The overall mood of the nation sours after the Maine is sunk. Willie re-enlists in the Marines and is wounded. Sousa, Jennie and Lily are later informed that Willie may lose his leg as a result. In the midst of this looming tragedy Sousa composes his great masterpiece, 'The Stars and Stripes Forever' - a patriotic flag waving march that captivates the nation.

After Willie's amputation and hospitalization, Lily escorts him to a recreation hall where he is delighted to see Sousa's band performing. The reunion is hardly accidental. Sousa calls Willie from the audience to a waiting sousaphone and together they strike up a rousing rendition of The Stars and Stripes Forever. We dissolve into a generational montage of many bands playing the piece with the final image one of the ghost of Sousa ahead of a band in Washington circa 1952; seemingly marching onward into an infinite immortality.

The film has its merits to be certain, chiefly in Clifton Webb's supremely engaging central performance. If only the screenplay didn't waste so much time pulling away from its subject to chase after the lethargic love story it might have succeeded. True enough, Sousa's home life was largely uneventful, but the film might have zeroed in more on his personal struggles, his challenges with composing and his moderate familial tribulations. Instead, the narrative seems strangely unbalanced. It's a story about Sousa, but Sousa is the protagonist in the background rather than the foreground.

Still, this reviewer is not going to complain about the release of deep catalogue titles like this one on Blu-ray (even if there are far more worthy contenders for the new media still waiting in Fox's vaults).

Curious that Fox Home Video would choose Christmas to release a patriotic flag waver that seems more suited for the 4th of July. Then again, who am I to argue with their logic - or lack thereof. This, from the studio who released Miracle on 34th Street (a Christmas classic) theatrically in the blistering summer heat of 1947.

Fox has truly outdone themselves on this vintage title. A fresh 1080p scan reveals colour fidelity and fine details long buried in other incarnations of The Stars and Stripes Forever. Mis-registrations in the original Technicolor negative (seen on the DVD) have been corrected. The image is smooth and sharp at the same time. In some instances we can actually see clothing fibre. The image positively glows. The audio is DTS mono and is very crisp. Extra features are all imports from the aforementioned DVD and include two brief but informative featurettes on the making of the film and the real Sousa's life and career.

Fox also gives us a DVD copy of the film and a rather lavishly appointed booklet that provides very informative facts about the making of the film, the real Sousa and the film's cast members. Bravo! While I'm only a moderate fan of this film I certainly applaud Fox Home Video for its efforts. They've put together a very nice package.

Now, if Fox would just give us full 1080p Blu-ray's of Anastasia (1956), The Ghost And Mrs. Muir, How Green Was My Valley, Two For The Road, The King & I, Oklahoma!, Hello Dolly!, Star!, Laura, The House on Telegraph Hill, Carousel, Yentl, The Inn of the Sixth Happiness, The Agony and The Ecstasy...

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

MEET ME IN ST. LOUIS: Blu-ray (MGM 1944) Warner Home Video

2011-12-14T09:40:00.001-05:00

A treasure trove of quaint domesticity loving brought to the screen with a light nimble touch, Vincente Minnelli's Meet Me In St. Louis (1944) is the quintessential 'teenager in love' movie musical from the 1940s. More than that: it is a vintage snapshot of turn of the century Americana finely wrought and meticulously crafted. Based on Sally Benson's serialized Kennsington Stories the film is Minnelli's first in Technicolor and it illustrates the director's keen and adaptive eye for sumptuousness.

For Meet Me In St. Louis Minnelli brought his true sense of color to bear on his already well exercised cinematic fluidity and camera movement. Everything, including the hues used in each scene, are in service to heightening the impact of the story. Minnelli opens each of the four seasons with a still portrait of the Smith family home as it might appear in a picture by Currier & Ives.

Judy Garland stars as Esther Smith, pining for the affections of John Truett (Tom Drake), the handsome boy next door. Esther lives with her mother (Mary Astor) and father (Leon Ames), her two younger sisters, Agnes (Joan Carroll) and Tootie (Margaret O'Brien), brother Lon (Henry H. Daniel), grandpa (Harry Davenport) and their maid, Katie (Marjorie Main). But the family's serenity is threatened when Mr. Smith's law firm decides to move him to New York.

'There's no place like home' was a popular message of another Garland classic: The Wizard of Oz and it resurfaces in Meet Me In St. Louis. Clearly, it was a message MGM's mogul, Louis Mayer took to heart.

Clearly Meet Me In St. Louis is a showcase for the film's star, Judy Garland. And yet Garland almost did not do the film. Tired of playing girls, Garland had had her first taste of playing 'women' opposite Gene Kelly in For Me And My Gal. She was also perhaps concerned that her performance would be overshadowed by the scene stealing antics of pint size Margaret O'Brien. Whatever her concerns, Garland was eventually coaxed to do the part. Her relationship with Vincente Minnelli began apprehensively at the start of the shoot. By the end they were hopelessly in love and soon to be married.

Viewed today, Meet Me In St. Louis retains its elusive magic. Irving Brecher and Fred Finkelhoffe's screenplay is a doting stroll through a year in the life of the Smith family. Hugh Martin and Ralph Blanes' four original songs augment the vintage catalogue of standards, heightening the poignancy of the entire score.

Warner Home Video's Blu-ray is curious. It seems the DVD was so impeccably mastered that the Blu-ray's improvements are negligible at best. Side by side comparisons reveal the obvious: a tightening up of the image with marginal improvements to fine detail. But color fidelity looks about the same and occasionally even appears a tad garish on the Blu-ray - adopting a reddish hue. The audio is a DTS remastering of the 5.1 Dolby Digital tracks used on the DVD but here too the accoustic differences are indistinguishable.

I'm not sure what ticks me off more - Warner's disastrous cover art (that replaces the vintage stylized calligraphy with some truly awful photo shopped lettering and a stock image of a house that IS NOT the Smith family home) or the fact that the back jacket DOES NOT list even a third of the extra features included.

Just to be clear: the Blu-ray contains ALL of the extras from Warner's 2 disc DVD (The Making of An American Classic, Hollywood: The Dream Factory, Becoming Attractings: The Films of Judy Garland, an audio commentary, isolated score, stills gallery and trailers). Only the audio commentary, 40 page booklet and CD sampler are listed as extras.

The 40 page booklet is deceiving. It's big on artwork but scant on behind the scenes info - pretty to look at but none too engaging overall. The CD sampler is, frankly, a waste of time and disc space. We get four songs totalling less than 15 min. Warner has repeatedly included such CD's as 'extra' content on deluxe and vintage Blu-ray titles.

Personally, my philosophy is that only complete soundtracks should be included. I understand the marketing behind Warner doing it their way. Whet the consumer appetite with a few 'samples' and hope they run out to buy the complete soundtrack album. More money. I said, I understand it. I don't respect it - especially since buying the complete soundtrack renders this 'sampler' moot - a Frisbee disc.

Bottom line: Meet Me In St. Louis is a cinematic treasure. It belongs on everyone's top shelf. But if you already own the 2 disc DVD there's really no rush to double dip for the Blu-ray. Wait until it goes on sale.

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

VIDEO/AUDIO

EXTRAS