APOLLO 13: 4K Ultra HD Blu-ray (Universal, 1995) Universal Home Video
Few endeavors
define American exceptionalism as succinctly as the space race. Imbued by
President John F. Kennedy’s optimistic challenge to the Soviet Union, not only
to explore, but conquer the farthest reaches of our solar system; the
commitment only solidified with the untimely assassination in 1963 of its most
ardent proponent, and framed by one of the nation’s most turbulent decades of
socio-political upheaval; the prospect of putting a man on the moon seemingly
the sci-fi stuff of Carl Sagan and Stanley Kubrick; by 1969, America had beat
out the competition, landing Apollo 11 on the moon. In that momentous instance
of ‘one small step for man, one giant
leap for mankind’ America created the template for standardized exploration
of outer space; and this, in spite of seemingly insurmountable odds and a
hellish ‘test flight’ command module
gone horribly wrong, incinerating Apollo I astronauts, Virgil I. ‘Gus’ Grissom,
Edward H. White II, and Roger B. Chaffee.
Today, we have
mostly mislaid our excitement for interplanetary exploration; regrettably, also
our blind admiration for this particular brand of gutsy human resolve – nee,
heroism – required to assail the future into the present: mankind’s meager
grasp at the infinite. With NASA’s shuttle program in mothballs and America’s
dedication to the stars presumably an ambition from our ‘quaintly’ modern past,
the prospect of telling legitimate stories on film about those heady early
years of gestation veer between mildly ironic and grotesquely archaic. How does one turn back the clock? Perhaps, by illustrating the point; that
despite all cinematic evidence to the contrary and Hollywood’s verve to
homogenize this supremely ‘human’ endeavor and accomplishment as mere dramatic
fantasias (everything from Star Wars,
1977 to Interstellar 2014) there is,
decidedly, nothing ‘routine’ about catapulting into the farthest regions of the
galaxy. Ron Howard’s Apollo 13
(1995) attains a level of legitimacy primarily because it eschews the
histrionics of cheaply sentimental melodrama, despite its bombastic James
Horner score (abounding in orchestral swells of flag-waving patriotism); also,
because it extol the virtues rather than the vices of an aborted lunar mission;
an odyssey that became an ordeal so easily misconstrued as failure, yet,
ultimately one of the most triumphant moments in American ingenuity.
In hindsight, Apollo 13 is so clearly infused with a
directorial passion for those early years. Ron Howard’s fortitude was always,
not simply to recreate and/or document this grand misshapen experiment, but
also will into existence a living testament of that epoch in space exploration,
typifying an inimitable spirit of uniquely American blind-eyed courageousness
that brought forth victory from the chaos. Initially inspired by ‘Lost Moon: The Perilous Voyage of Apollo 13’,
a chronicle co-authored by astronaut, Jim Lovell and award-winning Time
Magazine writer, Jeffrey Kluger; Howard’s original concept, and indeed, that of
his screenwriter, William Broyles, had been to tell the story of this fateful
mission exclusively from the perspective of the three men who experienced it
firsthand. A fact-finding visit to Lovell’s home, accompanied by actor, Tom
Hanks, would expand on this premise; Howard and Hanks gaining new insight from
Jim wife, Marilyn; Howard electing in the final draft to tell three connecting
stories as one: the human tragedy unfolding in space, the familial saga rocking
the Lovell home, and the race-against-time facing mission control to devise a
safe return for their beleaguered aeronautic crew. Along the way, screenwriter,
Al Reinert was brought in to refine the particulars. From the outset, Howard
had sought Tom Hanks as his ‘star’ – an unlikely choice given Hanks’ early
career had consisted of small screen light fluff, fantastic and goofy romantic
comedies. Indeed, Lovell had expressed casual interests to be immortalized by
the likes of Kevin Costner instead whom he felt ‘looked’ more the part. In
retrospect, however, Hanks proved the right choice; capable of carrying off the
mission with the appropriate merits – expressing nervous intrepidness in the
face of staggering odds.
Howard
handpicked the rest of his cast from a stellar assemblage of formidable stars:
Bill Paxton and Kevin Bacon as Lovell’s mission-bound compatriots, Fred Haise
and Jack Swigert respectively; Gary Sinise as the aborted third member of
Apollo 13’s crew, Ken Mattingly - denied his opportunity to partake after being
exposed to the measles virus; and Ed Harris, as Gene Kranz, NASA’s stalwart
flight director who, when the chips were down, offered his own peerless brand
of stern valor, declaring “America has
never lost a man in space and it sure as hell isn’t going to on my watch.
Failure is not an option.” With so
much butch testosterone on tap, Ron Howard’s movie easily could have
degenerated into yet another tired tale of America’s yahoo glory days as space
cowboys. And yet, in hindsight, the movie’s linchpin is Kathleen Quinlan’s
Marilyn Lovell; the actress highly regarded by the lady who lived through the
experience; Quinlan anchoring the drama to a sort of intimate all-American
family crisis and immediacy, humanizing the sense of interstellar peril as a
wife and mother, powerless to reach out to her husband in his hour of need, yet
ever-present and determined to see the fate of their mission through – whatever
the outcome.
Apollo 13 is immeasurably fortunate to have attained the
blessings of Jim and Marilyn Lovell; the couple in awe of Ron Howard’s
attention to detail, right down to building an exact replica of Mission Control
on the Universal back lot; also, electing to shoot a considerable amount of the
interior ‘weightless scenes’ inside a KC-135 ‘reduced gravity’ military
aircraft. In all, director, stars and cinematographer, Dean Cundey, would spend
a staggering one hundred hours aboard this plane, the actual pilot performing
perilous parabola dives, in order to simulate weightlessness while shooting
progressed inside the aircraft’s cavernous cargo hold, redressed to resemble
the inner cabin of Apollo 13’s Saturn V rocket. Later, close-ups would be
photographed back at Universal, the actors slightly bobbing and weaving within
frame to seamlessly maintain the illusion of zero gravity under less fanciful
conditions. Even as verisimilitude proved the order of the day, early on Ron
Howard made the executive decision not to use any of NASA’s stock footage of
the actual blast off; electing to recreate this moment digitally, using models,
early CGI effects and composited matte process photography instead. While the
sequence ultimately remains one of the movie’s most iconic and gripping,
placing the omnipotent camera at impossible angles to capture the sheer scope
of the launch, Howard was also quick to embrace a selection of iconic images
originally captured photographically by NASA for posterity, replicating these
digitally and interpolating them with his re-envisioned bits. Evidently, the
CGI was convincing enough to fool even mission control experts hired as
consultants on the picture; Howard asked about the ‘vault footage’, later to confess not a single shot had come from
NASA’s archives.
NASA’s
complicity in the making of Apollo 13
extended to a very gracious offer for Ron Howard to use Mission Control Center,
housed on the 2nd and 3rd floors of Building 30 at Houston’s Johnson Space
Center. Instead, Howard elected to build his own exact replica from scratch,
affording him greater latitude with camera angles, employing a mechanically
operated boom to maneuver in and out of the complex ‘crowd’ shots. However, Howard took advantage of at least
one luxury offered by the military: as the USS Iwo Jima had been scrapped some
years before, he employed her sister ship, the USS New Orleans, as the recovery
vessel for the splash-landed module. Meanwhile, spacecraft interiors were
constructed to exacting specifications by the Kansas Cosmosphere and Space
Center’s Space Works, who had been integral in the restoration of the real
Apollo 13’s Command Module. Two individual lunar modules and two command
modules were re-built for the movie; each, an exact replica. Co-star, Kevin
Bacon would later admit the claustrophobic atmosphere on board, compounded by
being physically restrained in air-tight suits and helmets, left him with a
queasy sense of unease, mastered only after some personal decompression of his
anxieties. It also gave the actor newfound respect for the men who had actually
undergone this trial by fire.
Apollo 13 opens with a jubilant aura of celebration as Apollo
11’s lunar landing takes place on July 20, 1969; Ron Howard incorporating a new
voice over narration from no less a cultural mandarin than former CBS anchor,
Walter Cronkite to summarize the events leading up to this defining moment in
American history; a much younger Cronkite, unable to contain his ebullience
glimpsed in stock footage heralding Neil Armstrong’s historic imprint on the
face of the moon. At the Lovell home, a house party is in full swing. There is,
to be sure, reason for optimism. Jim Lovell has been slated for a pending
mission to the moon, along with cohorts, Fred Haise and Ken Mattingly. These
are heady times, capturing the essence of J.F.K.’s promise to the nation,
perhaps, almost lost after Kennedy’s assassination, though now having surpassed
even his aspirations. After the party, a slightly inebriated Lovell informs his
wife, Marilyn of his unquenchable desire to walk on the moon’s surface. The
wait will not be quite so long. For on October 30, 1969, Lovell is quietly
informed by his superior, Deke Slayton (Chris Ellis) their mission has been
bumped up.
Marilyn is
mildly superstitious. It is, after all, Apollo ‘13’ – the historic ‘unluckiness’
of that digit in the back of her mind; an anxiety compounded when her
wedding ring slips off in the shower and is lost down the drain; a true
incident that both the real Marilyn Lovell and her surrogate in the film
prophetically regard as a very bad omen. Indeed, as the days dwindle down to
the launch, fate seems to be having its way; Ken Mattingly is denied permission
to partake after it is revealed he was inadvertently exposed to the measles. It
is a bitter pill to swallow. His replacement, Jack Swigert, lacks Mattingly’s
hours in the training module cockpit; a deficit not lost on Lovell, who
begrudgingly is forced by Slayton to accept the fact, Ken will not be a part of
their mission. Marilyn’s anxieties manifest themselves in a nightmare.
Initially, she had elected not to be present for the blast off. But now, she
hurries to her husband’s side at Cape Kennedy in a show of support the night
before the fateful launch.
On April 15,
1970, Apollo 13 heads for the stars. However, as it climbs toward the outer
stratosphere one of its engines prematurely cuts out. Nevertheless, the rocket
reaches its orbital objective, charting its third trajectory toward the moon.
All systems are go, the crew settling in for an unremarkable three day journey,
broadcasting good wishes and images from space, presumably to be broadcast on
national television. Lovell and his crew are unaware none of their
transmissions are actually being broadcast to the world; NASA publicity man,
Henry Hunt (Xander Berkeley) explaining to Marilyn the fickle and blasé nature
of network programming. Presumably, the public’s appetite for outer space has
cooled to the point where everyone considers such marvels of man-made
engineering nothing more than routine.
All evidence to the contrary, as Swigert, ordered by Mission Control to
stir Apollo 13’s oxygen tanks as part of their ‘housekeeping’ procedures,
inadvertently causes one of the tanks to rupture, creating massive damage. ‘Houston…we have a problem!’
Lovell takes
notice; Apollo 13 is venting their oxygen supply into outer space. Mission
Control aborts the moon landing, ordering the crew to power up their ‘escape
craft’ - the Aquarius - for the return home. At Mission Control, Flight
Director Gene Kranz aggressively rallies his team of engineers and scientists
to come up with a plan. ‘Failure is not an option!’ Controller, John Aaron
(Loren Dean) makes a fortuitous decision to bring Mattingly into the process.
After all, no one has spent more hours prepping for this mission; such
dedication and attention to detail could – and will – prove invaluable in
helping to bring everyone home safely. In space, Lovell quietly laments his
lost chance to touch the surface of the moon, his regrets turning to genuine
concern as Aquarius is running on auxiliary power; the crew subjected to the
extreme cold of space. Swigert suspects Mission Control is withholding the
cruel fact they are doomed to perish. Animosity mounts as Haise blames
Swigert’s inexperience for the incident. But Lovell quashes their heated
debate. Now is not the time to be pulled apart but to stand united and tall in
the face of seemingly insurmountable adversity.
As carbon
dioxide levels rise to near lethal levels, NASA’s engineering team devises a
way to adapt the command module's square filters in the lunar module's round
receptacles. As Aquarius’s guidance systems are shut down, Lovell does some
quick calculations, making a difficult but vital alteration to their flight
plan. It will prove their salvation, manually igniting the lunar module’s
engines. Mattingly and Aaron transmit their solution to the problems facing
Apollo 13’s crew. Swigert transfers Aquarius’ auxiliary power to the command
module; the service module jettisoned to reveal the true extent of the damage.
Will Apollo 13 be able to reenter the earth’s atmosphere without bursting into
flames? Debatable. Momentarily losing radio contact, everyone at Mission
Control holds their breath; Marilyn nervously observing from the visitor’s
gallery as tensions in the command center mount with each excruciating second
of silence; the vacuum broken when Lovell is heard over the airwaves,
transmitting their successful splash down in the Pacific Ocean; the craft
retrieved by the USS Iwo Jima. While
Lovell and his team are given their justly due hero’s welcome, Walter Cronkite
narrates the events that would follow, including an investigation into the
explosion, and, a brief summary of each man’s subsequent career, concluding
with Lovell’s careworn, yet clear-eyed and, as yet unfulfilled prospects for
man’s return to the moon.
As Gene
Roddenberry so eloquently put it, space - ‘final
frontier’. Apollo 13 resonates as a lovingly assembled snapshot of Americana,
torn from a particularly turbulent decade buffeted by socio/political
upheavals; a sort of ‘cap’ on President Kennedy’s optimistic promise to explore
the uncharted reaches of the baffling infinite. Of course, the space program
would continue for some years afterwards; the shuttle program, with its myriad
of triumphs and two unexpected disasters – Challenger (1981) and Columbia
(2003) – officially mothballing NASA’s plans for future manned space
exploration. Director, Ron Howard has quite obviously invested himself – body,
soul and creative energies in totem – to will Apollo 13’s authenticity into existence. While the NASA footage of
the actual incident was an obvious ‘starting point’ for his research, Howard’s
movie, with its expertly advised and multifaceted viewpoints, manages to fill
in the gaps, effectively blurring the lines between fact and fiction.
For some time
now our pop culture and American cinema particularly have been the leading
arbitrators of a sort of false-front running a parallel course with history to
fulfill its requirements for artistic license, dramatic arcs and personal/political
agendas; reality left far, far behind in favor of a good yarn. Those who regard
movies as their window onto the world – both past and present – are fed a
steady diet of pure pulp masquerading as fact. The saga of Apollo 13 requires no such embellishments and, as such, is afforded
very little by Ron Howard. He hasn’t made a documentary, per say, so much as a
living document of the events as they actually occurred; relying on Broyles and
Reinhert’s expertly written screenplay – with just enough technical jargon to
excite the space aficionado, though never bore the popcorn-munching novice –
and, the camaraderie of Tom Hanks, Kevin Bacon and Bill Paxton to carry the
load; also Gary Sinise and Kathleen Quinlan’s separate narrative threads,
capably intertwined with the unraveling chronicle in space. It’s a winning
combination with never a false chord struck for the purposes of dramatic irony,
tension, or forced pathos. The situations are real and the cast plays them ‘straight’, or rather, right down the
middle. Indeed, after pre-screening Apollo
13 for the men and women who had lived through its ordeal, Ron Howard was
told by Gene Kranz that in years yet to follow, whenever someone sought to
research this particular era in space exploration they could readily turn to Apollo 13 with confidence, knowing the
truth had been nobly illustrated: very high praise, indeed.
Shot on film, Apollo 13 definitely benefits from the
upgrade to Ultra Hi-def 4K Blu-ray. For its 20th anniversary,
Universal Home Video (UHV) gave us a superb 1080p Blu-ray (included in this
packaging as well). The 4K incarnation predictably advances in image and audio
quality, as it should. UHV’s approach to 4K releases has been refreshingly
invested when directly compared to the rather lackluster way they have all but
thrown regular Blu-ray under the proverbial bus with bare-bones and
inconsistently remastering discs begrudgingly, and miserly parceled off, mostly
through to third party distributors. Honestly, Death Becomes Her and Into
The Night are pathetic efforts – if effort was ever considered, much less
applied. But I digress. Apollo 13 on
both UHD and 1080p Blu-ray looks fantastic.
Where the 4K bests its competition is, of course, in the refinements and
minute details oft overlooked, but much reinvigorated as our appreciation for
Dean Cundey’s cinematography: skin textures look uncannily lifelike. Overall
definition advances. It’s a subtler upgrade, but it’s there. The HDR color grading has accentuated
Cundey’s use of ambient lighting; also, the period tones – oranges and greens -
with flesh advancing towards a rosier (natural) pink, the stark black infinity
of space offering exceptional contrast and depth. The DTS:X audio is a minor revelation
too.
Aside: a word
to those as yet unfamiliar with DTS:X audio. It’s basically Dolby Atmos’
competition. Who will win this latest format war is anybody’s guess. In format
wars of yore it’s always been the consumer left confused and investing in equipment
doomed to end up as a glorified door stop. Is DTS:X the next dinosaur? It has
height channels - speakers projecting sound upwards. It’s all in service to
object-based surround imaging. What?
Okay, speakers – either mounted to the ceiling or bouncing sound off it to
create a ‘sound bubble’ - that ‘all-encompassing’ listening experience. Unlike
Atmos, DTS:X favors dedicated ceiling speakers for its atmospheric SFX. Because
most aural experiences in the cinema are subject to something called the ‘X-curve’
movie soundtracks reproduced for the home theater experience must be
re-engineered at considerable expense for their home video release. During
Blu-ray’s infancy uncompressed soundtracks (PCM, or pulse-code modulation)
became something of the standard in this ‘standard-less’ industry, later to be
joined by Dolby TrueHD and DTS-HD. Alas, more complex audio mixes increasingly
were at the mercy of higher resolution mastered video - 3D, 4K and ‘deep color’
- gobbling up valuable disc space. DTS:X is a response, or rather, a return to
uncompressed audio. Dolby, long the industry standard bearer may have its work
cut out in this format war, as DTS claims it takes far less time and money to
master a DTS:X home theater mix than Atmos.
But the best news here is whoever wins this tortoise vs. hare race consumers are no longer the losers as most
any sound system today will decode both options. Yippee!
The 4K
rendering of Apollo 13 does not
include any of the bonus features that came with the Blu-ray. But the Blu-ray
does come with this repackaged affair. So, yes - you still have all the extras
as before. And Universal has jam-packed their 20th anniversary
edition with an insightful roster of goodies, beginning with Apollo
13: Twenty Years Later: A Conversation with Director Ron Howard and Producer
Brian Grazer. We also get all of the previously released junkets; comprehensive
documentaries on the making of the film and the space program: Lost
Moon: The Triumph of Apollo 13, and Conquering Space: The Moon and
Beyond: also, Lucky 13: The Astronauts’ Story, as
well as two independently produced audio commentaries, one featuring Ron
Howard, the other co-starring Jim and Marilyn Lovell. Bottom line: I cannot
think of a better way to mark the promise and pride of the America that once
was – and remains a grand experiment, than with a renewed screening of Apollo 13. The 4K disc is absolutely
the best way to experience this modern-age classic. An unqualified must
have/must see experience!
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
5+
VIDEO/AUDIO
5+
EXTRAS
5+
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