WILLOW: Blu-ray re-issue (Lucasfilm/Imagine, 1988) Buena Vista Home Video

Mounted on an impressive scale, at the crossroads where time-honored and traditional film-making techniques were just beginning to adopt to the digital age, director, Ron Howard’s Willow (1988) reveals the hiccups, as well as the virtues of this curious alliance in visual effects. The movie, scripted by Bob Dolman, on a story idea from George Lucas (who also served as the producer), in hindsight, foreshadows the narrative ‘vision quest’ structure of The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-03), with thinly cloaked nods to the board game, Dungeons & Dragons, the Arthurian legend – particularly, Merlin’s involvement, and, finally, classic movies as Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) and The Wizard of Oz (1939). And while Howard, somewhat apologetically, references Willow today as ‘quaint’, it’s actually a lot more visually arresting, but severely strained in its storytelling – and, with some truly laughable performances to further deflate its lithe and lyrical attributes. The ‘sword and sorcery’ angle, interminably mined in Hollywood lore, gets mired in this milieu of marvelous mayhem. The Dolman screenplay is quite unable to decide whether this is a story, rather slavishly devoted to its proletariat pursuit by a pure of heart (played rather ineffectively by the diminutive, Warwick Davis as the titular, Willow Ufgood, a Nelwyn dwarf and aspiring conjurer, devoted in his protection of the infant, Elora Danan from an evil queen) or the jocular romp of a scallywag (Val Kilmer, brutally bad as Madmartigan, an ego-driven mercenary), who discovers his self-worth upon becoming invested in protecting this child from certain death.  In hindsight, Willow is more of ‘a show’ than an adventure, its then ground-breaking special effects put forth by Lucas’ fledgling Industrial Light and Magic (ILM), taking center stage at virtually every hairpin twist and turn in this careening saga, resulting in some of the most seamless, high-quality effects ever put on the screen. Even today, with very few exceptions, these hold up spectacularly well.

As the eponymous Willow, Warwick Davis spends a good deal of the picture’s run time, clutching the infant Elora, while fleeing boar-like hounds and Queen Bavmorda’s (Jean Marsh) marauding horsemen. Willow – the movie – desperately wants to send a message – something about the ‘big things having little beginnings’ or how ‘the smallest among us can make the greatest difference’. And yet, Willow – the Nelwyn dwarf, utterly lacks courage and confidence, and repeatedly, is proven to be nothing at all, constantly rescued by Madmartigan or some implausibly-timed good fortune to elude bodily harm until the contrivances in Dolman’s screenplay clears the path of its impediments, allowing Willow to emerge unscathed and, ostensibly, at least, as the victor. In between, there will be chases, battles, more chases, more battles, a bit of romance (antiseptic, and in short supply, thanks to Joanne Whalley’s wooden turn as Sorsha, Bavmorda's warrior daughter, who defies mama by falling for the mullet-sporting/mutton-headed Madmartigan), and, of course, a lot of wizardry. George Lucas’ fascination with sci-fi here suffers from the curious amalgam of reporting to be taking place in ‘another’ ancient epoch, as yet undisclosed in the annals of human history, perhaps borrowing a tad too heavily on the Arthurian fables, reconstituted with a dash of J. R. R. Tolkien factored in for good measure. Indeed, Willow shot in New Zealand, in locations later to be exalted in director, Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy.

But the movie fails to achieve any lasting satisfaction, either for our pint-sized…um…hero - who spends much of his energies and time, simply doing his best to remain alive, or cringing in a corner while the full-sized creatures in this over-sized spectacle do their best and worst to obliterate one another – or the audience, expecting another well-versed saga to unfold. As this never entirely happens, what we are left with is a travelogue through another of Lucas’ clever-clever-neverlands, expressly designed like an E-ticket attraction at Disneyland, with Adrian Biddle’s superb cinematography, and, a truly passionate score by James Horner left to do the real/reel heavy lifting. Along with Allan Cameron’s incredibly rich and vibrant production design, and, Craig Barron and Catherine Craig’s superb matte photography, extending the boundaries of New Zealand’s already lush landscape into a truly mythological age; these, are Willow’s greatest assets, and, so tragic to see so much so badly squandered on this rather tepid adventure yarn that steadily devolves into one on-going race against time. There are, in fact, zero respites for precisely the sort of introspective reflections and spirited romance that might have made us care about at least some of these thumbnail sketched oddities, doing their level-best to be brave and slightly bawdy for our benefit.

Lucas conceived Willow in 1972. But then, the idea remained largely dormant for nearly a decade; Lucas, by then, much too involved in hand-crafting the first Star Wars trilogy, and committing his energies to yet another lucrative film-making franchise, Indiana Jones, already two-installments in, by the time Lucas approached Ron Howard to direct Willow. Howard had done well as one of the stars in Lucas’ straight-forward sleeper hit, American Graffiti (1973), and, in the interim, moved into the director’s chair, putting the finishing touches on Cocoon (1985). Meanwhile, Bob Dolman was brought in by Lucas to refine his story ideas, going through seven drafts before Lucas was entirely satisfied with the results. From here on in, Lucas found backing from Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer – its executive brain trust desperate for a hit and on the cusp of being forced to vacate the Culver City back lot that had been its home since its founding. MGM had already been sold to Lorimar Telepictures in 1986. So, virtually all of Willow’s interiors were shot at Elstree Studios in Hertfordshire, England, with the exterior shoot divided between Wales and New Zealand. And although earning back its $35 million outlay, and then some (worldwide box office, officially clocked in at $57 million), Willow was hardly the bell-ringing money maker MGM needed just then; with barely 2 Academy Award nominations in the minor categories to further propel its profitability.   

Willow’s plot evolves thus: with a prophecy about a first-born female child with a peculiar nevus, meant to signal the demise of an evil sorceress, Queen Bavmorda. To prevent the inevitable, all pregnant women in the kingdom are arrested. After the child is born, its mother (Sallyanne Law) begs a midwife to smuggle the babe out of the dungeon. Miraculously, the midwife manages her escape from Nockmaar Castle, but is eventually hunted down by a pack of wild-boar-like creatures known as the Nockmaar hounds, and Bavmorda’s loyal henchman, General Kael (Pat Roach). Placing the child on a makeshift raft, seconds before she is devoured by the hounds, Elora Danan is discovered downstream by Willow Ufgood’s two precocious children, Ranon (Mark Vandebrake) and Mims (Dawn Downing). Willow wants nothing to do with the babe – at first. But his wife, Kiaya (Julie Peters) has already bonded with Elora. At the local village festival, the dwarfs are attacked by the hounds, come in search of the baby. Defeated by the village warriors, the cause for the attack quickly comes down to Willow harboring Elora. The village’s revered sorcerer, High Aldwin (Billy Barty) reasons Elora must be taken into the care of the Daikini (a.k.a. humans). Thus, Willow, along with several of his fellow villagers, and best friend, Meegosh (David Steinberg) are elected to escort Elora to safety.

At the Daikini Crossroads, Willow and his cohorts encounter Madmartigan, imprisoned in a crow's cage. While the rest of the dwarves willingly agree to surrender Elora to this man they have only just met, and, who gives every indication of being a modestly disreputable sort, Willow and Meegosh refuse. Instead, they endure a night alone on the mountain where, by dawn’s earliest light, they encounter Airk Thaughbaer (Gavan O'Herlihy), a ‘sometimes’ friend of Madmartigan's marching against Bavmorda with a small army of warriors. As none of these accept responsibility for Elora’s safety, Willow very reluctantly frees Madmartigan and hands the baby over to him. Alas, as Meegosh and Willow head home, they learn Elora has already been kidnapped by the Brownies – Rool (Kevin Pollak) and Franjean (Rick Overton). In pursuit of the Brownies, Willow and Meegosh are captured, but then freed by the Fairy Queen, Cherlindrea (Maria Holvöe) who informs them of the child’s grave importance as the next ruler of this land – the Empress Tir Asleen. Willow is given Cherlindrea’s wand and charged with the fulfillment of her destiny. Willow sends Meegosh home; Franjean and Rool, now assigned to help him locate the sorceress, Fin Raziel (Patricia Hayes). Inadvertently, these cohorts are reunited with Madmartigan at a tavern where he is disguised as a woman to hide from Llug (Ron Tarr), a deceived husband. Instead, Sorsha appears, still in search of the child, and reveals Madmartigan’s true identity to Llug. In the ensuing brawl, Willow, Madmartigan, and the brownies escape. Owing to his previous failed promise to guard the infant, Madmartigan guides Willow and the Brownies to a nearby lake where they discover Raziel, already transformed into a possum by Bavmorda.

Willow, Franjean, Rool and Raziel encounter Sorsha, who has Madmartigan in custody. They are taken to the snowbound mountain retreat of the Nockmaar army where Willow tries to restore Raziel to her human form using Cherlindrea’s wand. Of course, he blunders this – rather badly – turning her into a rook instead. Accidentally dosed in the Brownie’s love dust, Madmartigan proclaims his undying passion for Sorsha, much to her cynical disbelief. The prisoners escape with Elora in a spirited slalom down the snowy mountain.  Again, their paths cross with Airk, whose armies in retreat have been decimated by Bavmorda’s seemingly unstoppable forces. Madmartigan now proclaims his loyalty to the Nelwyn, and together they take Sorsha hostage. Momentarily escaping, Sorsha tells Kael the purpose of their journey. Hence, Airk and the rest’s arrival at the castle of Tir Asleen comes too late. The ruins are abandoned, its inhabitants placed under a dark spell, its cavernous turrets overrun by trolls. Madmartigan redoubles his efforts to protect Willow, Elora and the Brownies, using the remnants and weaponry found inside to hold off Kael and Sorsha’s forces. Alas, in defending himself from one of the trolls, Willow accidentally changes it into an eborsisk, a grotesquely elaborate, two-headed monster, indiscriminately breathing fire on everything it sees. Airk’s arrival turns this battle in Madmartigan’s favor. But by then, Kael has already kidnapped Elora and retreated to Nockmaar where he reports Sorsha has betrayed the queen. Incensed, Bavmorda orders everything in readiness for a ritual to banish Elora’s soul to hell.

Meanwhile, Airk’s army, Willow, and the others arrive at Nockmaar to lay siege. Amused by their quaint valor, Bavmorda casually transforms this rabble army into pigs. Only Willow manages to escape. Now, Raziel – still a rook - has him use a spell to reverse the transformation. This time, Willow is also successful at turning Raziel back into her native human form. Restored, Raziel removes Bavmorda’s spell from Airk’s armies. Believing them defeated, Kael and his army emerge from the castle to inspect the battlefield. They are temporarily ambushed by Airk’s forces. Alas, in the ensuing battle, Kael mortally wounds Airk, who makes Madmartigan pledge to him a victory.  While Madmartigan and Kael engage in a hellish clash of swords, Sorsha leads Willow and Raziel into the ritual chamber to prevent Elora’s sacrifice. Bavmorda weakens Sorsha and wounds Raziel. Willow, who has removed Elora from Bavmorda’s sacrificial altar, now pretends to make the child vanish into thin air. Enraged, Bavmorda inadvertently spills the blood sacrifice on its corrupted altar, sin enough for the evil forces of darkness to banish her to a netherworld of no return. Willow and his cohorts rejoice in their victory.  The kingdom liberated, Willow returns to Kiaya and his children, where he is instantly declared their hero.

Willow’s token story-telling is the barest of excuses for Lucas and company to lavish a series of spell-bindingly original SFX on this undernourished tale of succession. After the first ten-minutes or so, the action sequences are virtually non-stop for the rest of Willow’s 2hr. plus run time, with so little exposition in between, it becomes mere conjoining tissue to explain away the reason for the next battle sequence and/or special effect. And Willow has another hurdle to overcome. Virtually none of its characters are truly likable at a glance. Even Willow’s motives are predicated more on getting an unpleasant task over with rather than any sort of personal investment in bettering the kingdom long-term by deposing a wicked ruler from her war-mongering edifice. Madmartigan’s chivalry is even more spuriously elusive; his brief encounter with the Brownie’s ‘love drug,’ apparently, possessing adverse side effects to promote virtue and valor of another kind. Willow is very adult in its depiction of violence – perhaps, too intensely to help promote the movie as a tween-inspired ‘feel good’. Bavmorda’s transformation of Airk’s armies into swine is truly nightmarish. Arguably, nothing like it has been seen on the screen since the similarly-themed sequence in Walt Disney’s classic animated fairy tale, Pinocchio (1940), where the eponymous puppet and his morally loose cohort, Lampwick, are turned to asses by their own wicked indulgences on Pleasure Island.

Were that Willow delivered more ‘pleasures’ than parables and platitudes about virtue as its own reward. We get that message loud and clear at the outset, when Willow accepts his destiny to deliver Elora to safety. And yet, Dolman’s screenplay insists on hammering it home at every opportunity; the message, grown weary and heavy-handed until it has lost virtually all meaning by the end. As subterfuge is hardly Willow’s modus operandi, at least some of this leaden weight might have been alleviated if the acting was better. But no – Val Kilmer makes the absolute least of his performance here. At times, it appears not even he is certain about character motivations or emotional clarity; Kilmer, merely playing the drama and/or action from scene to scene with tongue planted firmly in cheek. Is he bored, bemused or caught somewhere in between? Your guess is as good as any, and the character of Madmartigan suffers irrevocably because of Kilmer’s indecisive performance. That said, I am being exceedingly kind here, especially when comparing Kilmer’s ‘talent’ to the petrified stick of kindling offered by Joanne Whalley. Aside: Willow is the movie where Whalley and Kilmer first met – as professionals – and later, to solidify their love for each other; a union that remains intact to this day. The couple were wed in 1988. So, I suppose something good came of their mutual participation on Willow – though it is hardly indicative of either’s performance herein, especially Whalley’s. Indeed, she is paralytic and passionless throughout – either, as her mother’s misguided daughter, or as the supposedly full-bodied female whose blood burns for Kilmer’s studly swordsman. There is zero on-screen chemistry to support the movie’s dénouement, inferring a romantic understanding has transpired between Madmartigan and Sorsha.

So, in the end, what we are left with is an adventure yarn - fairly spirited, some colossally impressive effects and matte work, and, a movie that, quite simply, fails to gel in any meaningful way. Willow’s ardent fan base continues to embrace it with loving affection as an artistic masterpiece. What can I tell you? The wonderment of art, even failed attempts at it, is it usually finds a home in someone’s heart.  Much thought has been invested by both Ron Howard and George Lucas on Willow’s high concept and visual stylization. For this indeed, the movie deserves top marks. It looks authentic to a period conjured from none mankind has ever known, but otherwise has been perfected to suspend our belief for an hour or two. And Ron Howard’s direction is accomplished. He knows where to place his camera for maximum visual impact. But a pretty-looking spectacle is still simply only that, especially without the dramatic chutzpah to make something more or better from it. Willow will impress the novice viewer with some truly breathtaking visuals and, even more imaginative ILM wizardry. Although dated, these effects still come off with a modicum of credible joie de vivre.  But the movie gets stale after the eleventh battle to end all battles fails to put a period to another battle brewing just minutes away and around the next darkened corner. In the end, Willow illustrates the exceptional behind-the-scenes efforts of a myriad of craftsmen doing their best work in visual effects. It also, and rather painfully, strips bare to expose the dearth of reliable talent appearing in front of the camera, most of whom cannot save the picture from landing with a dull thud.

Willow was originally released by MGM in their association with Lucasfilm and Imagine Entertainment (George Lucas, and, Ron Howard’s production companies respectively). That it should somehow have fallen into Disney Inc.’s creative ownership since is a sincere mystery, as MGM, now a subsidiary of 2oth Century-Fox, soon to be annexed wholesale by the ‘Mouse House’ has yet to get its hooks into either studio’s vast library holdings. Be that as it may, this Blu-ray via Buena Vista Home Video is a winner. Colors are rich and vibrant, and fine details abound, even during the darkest scenes, revealing all the care gone into Adrian Biddle’s original cinematography. Contrast is solid. Flesh tones look fantastic. So, nothing to complain about here. There are no age-related artifacts. The audio is 5.1 DTS. However, owing to its dated source it does not really live up to Blu-ray’s expanded capabilities. Dialogue is tinny. James Horner’s score sounds wonderful, and sound effects have been well-integrated – the action sequences achieving the appropriate flourish of chaos.  Extras include a nearly half-hour long vintage ‘making of’ – badly worn – also, newly produced featurettes with Warwick Davis, affectionately waxing about his time on the set, complimented by his own home movies taken at the time, plus a rather meaningless commentary on how the letter ‘W’ features prominently in the scheme of things. There is also a pointless featurette devoted to matte paintings (that explains virtually nothing, but does a visual compare and contrast) and another, deconstructing the showdown between Bavmorda and Raziel. We also get theatrical trailers and TV spots – again, badly worn. Bottom line: for those who adore Willow, this is the second hi-def release, sporting virtually identical picture quality as the previous Blu made available via Fox Home Video. Extras are a nice touch. One would sincerely hope and pray that Disney Inc. will slowly begin to mine its own formidable live-action library on Blu-ray, as yet MIA in hi-def, for the most part. Given that it is Disney Inc. …we will wait and see. This movie was a wash for me, but the Blu-ray is perfect and well worth your coin. Judge and buy accordingly.

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

2.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

3.5