ALL ABOUT EVE: Blu-ray re-issue (2oth Century-Fox, 1950) Criterion
The movie that took Bette Davis’ film career off life support and
launched as memorable a backstage feud between three women not even included in
its glittering ensemble of players, director Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s bitchy
masterpiece, All About Eve (1950) remains a scintillating exposé, not only
about the follies and foibles of the theater sect, but the ongoing struggle and
strife of humanity – oft, to behave in less than flattering, to downright
inhumane ways. Mankiewicz’s screenplay may have been picture-perfect – indeed,
Davis, well-known for taking other’s authorship into her own hands, instead,
herein, declared it faultless, adhering to Mankiewicz’s prose as though they
were the Bible. But Mankiewicz, already having won back to back Academy Awards
for writing and directing A Letter to Three Wives (1949), had actually
borrowed for his inspiration from Mary Orr’s short story, ‘The Wisdom of
Eve’ – first published in Cosmopolitan Magazine. Although Orr, an actress
with aspirations of becoming a great writer, had, in fact, penned several short
stories and was working on her first play at the time of ‘Eve’s’ publication,
the subsequent triumph of both her thinly veiled fiction and Mankiewicz’s
accolade-heavy movie would spark an unanticipated 50-year rivalry between Orr
and one, Martina Lawrence; the real Eve in this storytelling.
Exactly how Lawrence and Orr became sworn enemies – and almost came to
blows after writer, Harry Hahn arranged for their supposed reconciliation over
cocktails at Sardis – involved another star, Elizabeth Bergner. The Austro-Hungarian
born Bergner, a glamorous creature, had been a sensation in German movies,
crossing the Atlantic in the late 1930’s with daydreams of making an even
bigger splash in picture-making on this side of the Atlantic. Alas, her thick
European accent did not advance these aspirations on celluloid. And although
she would launch a fairly lucrative stage career, Bergner and the movies never
came together. Meanwhile, Martina Lawrence had managed to ingratiate herself as
a personal assistant to Paul Czinner, the Hungarian-born Brit writer/producer
who also happened to be Bergner’s husband. Lawrence was indispensable in both
their lives, running interference and fielding offers, managing the couple’s
professional itineraries and private lives behind the scenes. At some point,
the honeymoon between this model of efficiency and the couple ended, after
Bergner began to suspect Lawrence of harboring ulterior motives. Bergner shared
these suspicions with Orr at a dinner party and Orr, who found it fascinating,
set about to concoct a ‘fictional’ account, later pitched to Cosmo as ‘The
Wisdom of Eve.’ Upon its
publication, Lawrence was none too thrilled – perhaps seeing far too much of
herself in print, and able to recognize, either the truth in it, or merely resentful
of the fact that, in reworking the rumors, Orr had managed to make ‘Eve’
(a.k.a. Lawrence) the villain of the piece.
And thus, a battle royale began – one that would boil over into an
all-out cat fight in 1993 during the aforementioned détente arranged by Harry
Hahn; Orr, defending her work and claiming she had never set out to besmirch
anyone, and Lawrence, carpet-hauling Orr as a hack writer who took advantage of
a casual conversation, spinning it into an insidious untruth that had badly
maligned her character and reputation. Whatever the truth in this, these ladies
were not to reconcile their differences on that afternoon, nor ever. Indeed,
after Mankiewicz had shed an even greater light on the story with his
record-breaking movie, Lawrence bitterly retreated to Venice, Italy (according
to Orr, Lawrence came after her with a butter knife, attempting blackmail for
monies needed to make her journey abroad). Perhaps quite by chance, and decades
later in 1990, Lawrence contacted Mankiewicz to tell him her side of the story,
directing his attentions to Bergner’s biography as proof. In one of those
Hollywood ironies that never fails to impress with its uncanny verisimilitude,
Anne Baxter’s Eve came to embody Lawrence’s acrimony on the screen; something
Mankiewicz referenced as ‘bitch virtuosity.’ Whatever her motives, Lawrence did not try to
appeal to the director again.
By 1949, Joseph L. Mankiewicz was at the top of his game…at least,
professionally. Regrettably, there were dark shadows looming over Mankiewicz’s
outwardly sunny persona. His brother, Herman J. Mankiewicz, once a noteworthy
screenwriter whose big mouth and alcoholism effectively derailed his chances in
Hollywood, was well on his way to self-destructing. Indeed, Herman – their
father’s favorite son – would barely live four more years. Worse, Joe
Mankiewicz was coming off a very stormy liaison with Judy Garland, despite
being married to Rose Stradner; the deeply troubled Viennese actress who had
effectively given up her own career abroad to follow Mankiewicz to Hollywood,
believing she would pick up where she had left off professionally. Despite
being a very fine actress, Stradner failed to catch on in anything more
substantial than bit parts. Effectively retiring from the screen to play the title
role of wife and mother, Stradner’s toehold on reality continued in steep
decline until 1958 when she took her own life. Exactly how much Mankiewicz’s
well-known carousing outside their marital bond took its toll on Stradner’s
psyche remains open for discussion. Undoubtedly, it made for a very unhappy
marriage and ended tragically.
All About Eve is so perfectly cast, one easily forgets the pivotal
part of aging actress, Margo Channing almost went to Claudette Colbert;
mutually agreed upon by Mankiewicz and 2oth Century-Fox studio mogul, Darryl F.
Zanuck who, upon reading Mankiewicz’s screenplay, was as certain Fox contract
player, Jeanne Crain should play the part of the unscrupulous Eve Harrington.
Mankiewicz resisted this, as Crain’s on-screen persona exuded a more wholesome
appeal. Mankiewicz wanted an actress who could pivot from seemingly innocent
ingenue to supremely venomous bitch in heels, and believed Anne Baxter was his
Eve. Baxter had already won a Best Supporting Oscar for 1947’s The Razor’s
Edge and was well-regarded by Zanuck too. But Bette Davis as Margo
Channing?!? This was an entirely different matter. Davis and Zanuck had, in
fact, not reconciled their differences ever since the actress walked out on her
duties as President of the Motion Picture Academy in 1941, with Zanuck famously
declaring then, “You’ll never work in this town again!” But the 1940’s –
or rather, the first half of the decade – had been very good to Davis’ film
career; the actress, given carte blanche at Warner Bros. to pursue a legendary
string of hits that buoyed her reputation as a consummate professional until
the disastrous Beyond the Forest (1949). But even by 1946, Davis could
see Jack Warner had lost interest in her career, or perhaps, had merely soured
on her constant badgering, threats and histrionics to get her projects green
lit. Indeed, with Joan Crawford’s arrival at that studio, Warner was to lean
the more plum parts to Metro’s castoff, leaving Davis out in the cold.
Swallowing his pride, Zanuck telephoned Davis at home to offer her the
role of a lifetime – but only after Claudette Colbert had severely damaged her
back, forcing her into months of traction therapy. Davis may not have
understood the reasons for Zanuck’s phone call, but she shrewdly recognized Mankiewicz’s
screenplay as the best she had been offered in a very – VERY – long while.
Learning of her casting, director Edmund Goulding, who had directed Davis in
three of her greatest hits – 1939’s Dark Victory and The Old Maid,
and, 1941’s The Great Lie, and had contributed to the screenplay of
another Davis masterpiece, 1943’s Old Acquaintance – telephoned
Mankiewicz with an ominous prediction: “This woman will grind you up into a
fine powder and blow you away!” All evidence to the contrary, as Davis
arrived on set full of vim and vigor, passionate for the opportunities to
perform the work as written, and, with an even deeper admiration for
Mankiewicz’s talents as a writer. The respect she exhibited for her director
this time around was so profound, it instantly sparked a mutual admiration that
made for a very worthwhile working experience between the two. Even decades
later, Davis would wax affectionately about the experience of making the movie.
“I owe it all to Joe…he resurrected me from the dead!”
The same level of professional courtesy could not be claimed where
Davis’ affinity – or lack thereof – for co-star, Celeste Holm was concerned.
Holm arrived the first day on set with an ebullient ‘hello’, only to be
confronted by Davis’ glib, “Oh shit…polite manners.” Thereafter, neither
got on. It ought to be noted, Holm could be just as caustic as Davis in a
pinch. Indeed, Holm and Zanuck had parted company not long after her
Oscar-winning performance in 1947’s Gentleman’s Agreement; Zanuck,
firing his temperamental star, but again, forced to eat humble pie and hire her
back to appear in All About Eve. Meanwhile, in yet another case of art
imitating life, Bette Davis was accused by stage/screen diva, Tallulah Bankhead
of aping her mannerisms as the fictional Broadway legend-in-her-own-time, Margo
Channing. Reportedly, Davis’ introduction to Bankhead had been less than
auspicious; Bankhead, acknowledging Davis, only as ‘the one who plays my
parts in the movies.’ In reality, two of Bette’s biggest hits – Dark
Victory, and The Little Foxes (1941) had been Bankhead star-making
plays on Broadway. Like all of Mankiewicz’s great works, All About Eve
is a female-centric exploration of the wiles that women employ to get what they
want in a man’s world. Mankiewicz always found women more fascinating than men.
Yet, of all the juicy parts to grace All About Eve, the one that
remained closest to Mankiewicz’s own heart was Addison DeWitt – the poisoned
pen critic played with oily malevolence by George Sanders. Much of Mankiewicz’s
own cynicism towards humanity in general and theater folk in particular is
expressed by Sander’s sublime and insidious plotter. And Sanders, a great
character actor, but with a terrible reputation as being a cad both on and off
the set, plays Addison to the hilt – a tour de force performance that would win
Sanders and the picture its only ‘acting’ Academy Award.
All About Eve is a movie of rare qualities, not the least, typified
in Mankiewicz’s writing. It is a stage upon which sets the highest aspirations
and lowest blows of a particular sect of pontificating vultures, each as eager
and enterprising to outclass the rest. Interestingly, Mankiewicz begins his
investigation into humanity’s mad inhuman noise with a sham awards ceremony. In
1950, the Sarah Siddon’s Society did not exist, nor the award given to Eve
Harrington by its Master of Ceremonies. Although Sarah Siddon had been a renown
18th century tragedienne, her reputation in the 20th was practically
nonexistent until All About Eve shed new light on her ancient craft. In
what is perhaps the most curious bit of life imitating art, both the Sarah
Siddon’s Society and all the good works that have since come to be associated
with it (fundraising, scholarships, etc.) took its concrete form a scant two
years after All About Eve’s premiere – modeled by a small, but eminent
group of Chicago theater-goers (including actress Edith Luckett Davis, mother
of Nancy Davis Reagan), on the movie’s exemplar. In its preliminary stages,
Mankiewicz’s screenplay, originally entitled ‘Best Performance’ garnered
Zanuck’s praise, enough for the mogul to undertake it as one of his ‘personally
supervised’ productions. It is rumored Zanuck, not Mankiewicz, was responsible
for the change in title, simply excising it from a line of dialogue heard in
the movie’s prologue, “…but more about Eve, later. All about Eve, in fact.”
And so, we come to the tale itself, begun in the stuffy main hall of the
Ambassador Hotel, the Sarah Siddon’s Award for distinction in the theater given
to Miss Eve Harrington – a bright new find, certain to have a long and
illustrious career ahead of her…perhaps. For the foundation on which Eve has
constructed her art is a lie. She has conned and clawed her way to the top,
employing an unscrupulousness, as easily to walk in, as on and over the hearts
of those who implicitly bought into her sob story about being a war widow,
compromised by a lascivious boss in a brewery, and lurching from the shadows to
linger around the stage door nightly, merely to catch a glimpse of her favorite
actress, Margo Channing. To hear Eve tell it, she has never had any great love
except the theater and Margo. Touched by her story, Margo’s best friend, Karen
(Celeste Holm), wife of playwright, Lloyd Richards (Hugh Marlowe) inadvertently
stirs a hornet’s nest, destined to suffer the sting of her ‘good deed’. Eve is
introduced to Margo, her personal assistant, Birdie Coonan (the marvelous
Thelma Ritter), Lloyd, and, Margo’s boyfriend, Bill Samson (Gary Merrill); the
latter, about to depart for an extended stay in California, working on a new
movie for – wait for it – Darryl F. Zanuck. “Zanuck! Zanuck! Zanuck!”
chirps Margo with casual disregard, “What are you two…lovers?” to which
Bill replies, “Only in some ways!”
Eve offers to manage Bill’s bags and the tickets at the airport,
allowing Margo a few extra moments together before his departure. Promising
Bill to look after Margo while he is away, Eve settles into Margo’s fashionable
townhouse, immediately establishing herself as a fixture and a model of
efficiency. While Margo is enthralled to have someone fuss over her, Birdie is
thoroughly unimpressed. She forewarns Margo that Eve is not so much endeavoring
to make her life easier as much as she is studying her like a textbook for some
grander, hidden and more insidious design. While Margo resists believing the
worst about Eve at first, her suspicions are stirred when Eve orchestrates a
midnight phone call from California to New York for Bill’s birthday without
first telling Margo about it. Upon Bill’s return home, Margo has plans for a
grand party. Producer, Max Fabian
(Gregory Ratoff) is most eager to have Margo sign on to do Lloyd’s next play,
‘Aged in Wood’. Margo, however, is reticent. After all, she has turned the big
4-0 but is yet again expected to play a girl in her twenties. While Max and
Lloyd each suggest Margo is ageless, Margo succumbs to these anxieties about
getting older in the public spotlight, offering “Fasten your seatbelts. It’s
going to be a bumpy night.” Shortly thereafter, Margo gets quietly drunk.
Her inhibitions lowered, she suspects and openly accuses Eve of worming her way
into their lives. Eve takes her lumps and is apologetic to a fault. Meanwhile,
poisoned pen theater critic, Addison DeWitt debuts his latest find, Miss Caswell
(Marilyn Monroe), blatantly pushing her into flirtations with Max. In an
upstairs bedroom, Eve cleverly corners Karen, hinting that while she is
certainly contented with her role as Margo’s social secretary, she would prefer
to be her understudy in the new play.
Karen plants this seed in Lloyd’s mind, believing Eve
has done nothing except be the perfect personal assistant to Margo. After some initial apprehensions, Max and
Lloyd concur: Eve will understudy Margo…just without her ever knowing about it.
After all, where is the harm? Margo has no intention of missing a single
performance. So, the show goes on. Only Margo becomes bored with the material,
and worse, begins to question Lloyd’s integrity as a playwright. Behind the
scenes, Eve takes one of Margo’s dresses and, holding it against her, pretends
to be the one taking the bows. Margo is slightly amused, especially after
startling Eve from her daydream. Margo now confides her suspicions about Eve to
Karen. Too bad, Karen cannot see the
truth in it. Believing her best friend’s anxieties are the result of needless
jealousy, Karen decides to teach Margo a lesson, stranding them – and Lloyd –
on an open road after a relaxing weekend in the country. While Lloyd goes off
on foot for gas, Margo contemplates what her ambitions have wrought thus far. “Funny
business, a woman's career,” she hypothesizes, “The things you drop on
your way up the ladder so you can move faster. You forget you'll need them
again when you get back to being a woman. That's one career all females have in
common, whether we like it or not: being a woman. Sooner or later, we've got to
work at it, no matter how many other careers we've had or wanted. And in the
last analysis, nothing's any good unless you can look up just before dinner or
turn around in bed, and there he is. Without that, you're not a woman. You're
something with a French provincial office or a book full of clippings, but
you're not a woman. Slow curtain, the end.”
Karen has already begun to feel guilty. But Margo is indifferent about
missing the performance and Eve steps into the part, running off with it to
great success. Addison is quietly amazed that all of the most prominent theater
critics just happened to attend this, of all the performances; certain to sing
Eve’s praises in their columns the next day. Afterward, Eve makes a play for
Bill. But he rejects her outright. Now, Addison wisely begins to suspect the
real puppet master among this brood is none other than Eve Harrington. To help
the viper along, Addison writes a celebratory piece about Eve’s debut that, in
tandem, heavily criticizes ‘other actresses of a certain age’ for their vanity
in believing they can still pass for twenty-something on the stage. The review
sticks in Margo’s craw and infuriates Karen. Nevertheless, Karen and Lloyd
agree to meet Margo and Bill for drinks at the Stork Club where Margo announces
she has finally decided to marry Bill. Their joy is tempered by the arrival of
Eve on Addison’s arm. During dinner, Eve implores Karen to attend her in the
powder room. At first reluctant, Karen is curious as to what Eve would want
from her now and follows her into the private area. Now, Eve reveals her truest
self and it proves as ugly and devious as it is determined. Eve wants the part
of ‘Cora’ in Lloyd’s new play, ‘Footsteps on the Ceiling’ – already slated for
Margo. When Karen refuses to help her, Eve threatens to reveal to everyone how
Karen aided her in making Margo miss the performance. Her lifelong friendship
with Margo on the threshold of being destroyed, Karen skulks back to her table,
giddy and apprehensive. Meanwhile, Eve returns to Addison’s side, claiming she
just had a casual conversation between old friends.
Margo drops a well-timed bombshell of her own. She does not want to play
Cora after all. It is time to retire from the theater, to take life as it
comes, and to invest all of her time and efforts on making Bill a happy home
and wife. Amused beyond words by this gracious whim of fate that has suddenly
removed her from the proverbial hook, Karen bursts into a fit of uncontrollable
laughter. Eve is cast as Cora. But the process by which she molds her
performance is fraught with conflict and anger – railing against Bill and Lloyd
and getting these long-time friends at each other’s throats. Just prior to the
out-of-town tryouts in New Haven, Eve presents Addison with her next grand
scheme; to steal Lloyd away from Karen, suggesting she already knows Lloyd is
in love with her. Disgusted by Eve’s belief she can manipulate him as easily as
everyone else, Addison strips bare the cold, hard facts about her otherwise
fictional back story. There is no Eve Harrington. Only Gertrude
Slescynski. She was never married to a dead war hero; rather, the mistress of a
wealthy businessman who eventually had to pay her off to leave town. Bill never
had romantic designs on her back then; neither, Lloyd now. As all that Eve has
wrought disintegrates before her very eyes, Addison now lays all his cards on
the table. For his silence, also, his
renewed investment in seeing her career take off like a meteor, Eve will
‘belong’ to Addison. She will not be marrying Lloyd or anyone else.
Although a tearful/fearful Eve, at first, nervously refuses to go on –
Addison convinces her the only way out of this unhappy predicament is to agree
to his terms. Begrudgingly, Eve does. We fast track to the present, Eve
presented with the Sarah Siddon’s Award for excellence in the theater. As Eve
accepts the honor, she feigns humility, thanking ‘her friends’ – including
Karen, Margo, Lloyd and Bill. Although the audience gathered in the ballroom
has absolutely no idea what has previously transpired, none of the
aforementioned are buying Eve’s gratitude now. Indeed, it remains as hollow as
the Award itself; Margo, astutely surmising at the end of Eve’s speech, she can
always put the accolade where her heart ought to be. As the auditorium empties
out, Eve is left to accompany Addison back to her fashionable apartment.
Deciding to skip the post-presentation party being given in her honor, Eve is
startled to find a young woman sleeping on her sofa inside the apartment.
The girl, Phoebe (Barbara Bates), innocently reports to be the President
of her high school Eve Harrington Fan Club. Sneaking into the apartment while
the cleaning lady was tidying up, Phoebe apologizes for having fallen asleep
afterward. She also promises she has taken nothing that did not belong to her.
As she seems quite genuine, Eve coolly allows the girl to remain, especially
after Phoebe offers to help pack the trunk Eve intends to take on her trip to
Hollywood. While Eve gets comfortable on a chaise in her bedroom, Phoebe also
offers to answer the door buzzer, finding Addison on the other side holding
Eve’s Sarah Siddon Award that she callously left in the back of the taxi.
Amused by this junior miss, exuding sultry charm, Addison inquires whether she
too might one day hope for such an honor. “More than anything in the world,”
Phoebe replies. Addison departs with an insidious satisfaction, knowing Eve
is about to be tricked in the same way she once played both Karen and Margo as
fools. In the penultimate revelation, Phoebe is seen, dressing in the elegant
robe Eve wore to accept her award, posing before a mirror, and
holding the award as if it were her own; the endless proliferation of reflected
Eve’s bowing, promises the audience that no good end will come of it. Such is
it in life, and most definitely, in show biz!
All About Eve remains a quintessentially urbane and sophisticated
melodrama about show folk; a critique of their Teflon-coated smug superiority,
held dear, yet precarious, and susceptible to usurpers from without.
Mankiewicz’s movies are microcosmic character studies of humanity’s foibles.
Yet, Mankiewicz is oft criticized for lacking the visual savvy of a ‘movie
director’. There is something to this – as Mankiewicz’s screenplay construction
is transparently suited to the 3-act structure of a play. Hence, his actors act
while the camera merely serves to fill the frame with their performances, but
without any undue flair to augment them. The spark and the magic are all due to
the actors and the dialogue. That said, the mileage Mankiewicz gets from his
in-depth deconstruction of art imitating life is a riveting indictment we
cannot take our eyes off. So, the point about static camera work is moot, as
Mankiewicz’s subtext, his electrifying speeches, cleverly timed to appear
genuine, far outweighs any falsely perceived ‘lack’ in his camera prowess.
Evidently, audiences and the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences were
as enthralled by All About Eve – the picture receiving a record 14 Oscar
nominations (a tally not tied until James Cameron’s Titanic, 1997). However, that number is even more impressive
when one stops to consider most of the categories Titanic was nominated
in were not even present at the time All About Eve was paid the honor.
Regrettably, in the eleventh hour leading up to these nominations, Anne
Baxter campaigned heavily for Zanuck to get her a Best Actress – rather than
Best Supporting Actress - nod. This placed Baxter’s Eve in direct competition
with Bette Davis – also nominated for Margo. In hindsight, it proved both
actresses undoing, as the tie – a first, in Oscar history – was split down the
middle; the Oscar going to Judy Holliday for Born Yesterday.
Justifiably, Davis would always feel robbed, and, in years to follow, held
Baxter accountable. If Davis, caught in the cross hairs of a bitter divorce
from her third husband, continued to harbor resentment at losing out to
Holliday, she at least took temporary solace in her affair with co-star, Gary
Merrill (who was also married at the time). Their whirlwind of ‘fire and
music’ culminated in an even more short-lived and volatile union. Today, All
About Eve remains as fresh and ever-present, perhaps because the
ruthlessness exhibited by its protagonists has only continued to proliferate
during the intervening decades. In pop culture, where words like ‘instant
classic’ are bandied about with a reckless disregard, to have lost any real
meaning, All About Eve is deservedly and precisely that – a great movie
that continues to hold up spectacularly well with the passage of time.
Criterion’s reissue of All About Eve is a bit of a head-scratcher.
Although advertised as derived from a new 4K restoration, the retired Fox Home
Video Blu-Ray from 2010 looks every bit as vibrant, sharp and pristine in 1080p
with superb preservation of the film's natural grain structure. Blacks are deep and
solid. Whites are pristine. Honestly, I don’t see the point here – the Criterion
and Fox releases looking all but identical. The Criterion foregoes Fox’s
attempt at a re-channeled stereo (the original mono was also included on Fox’s
release) and instead offers us a PCM uncompressed mono track that is virtually
indistinguishable from Fox’s mono. Ho-hum. This leaves the real benefits of this reissue to its extra content.
Except that here too, in the early years of Fox Blu-ray authoring, the studio
had put its very best foot forward. So, on this outing, Criterion rehashes Fox’s
two commentary tracks (the better, Sam Stagg's comprehensive account of the production); the other, belonging to actress, Celeste Holm,
Christopher
Mankiewicz – Joe’s son, and, author, Kenneth L. Geist. We also get AMC
Backstory – Ken Burns’ series that covers the making of the movie with all too
brief snippets and sound bites, but gets the job done nonetheless. Also, ported
over from the Fox release - ‘Directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz’ a
beautiful retrospective on the director’s career, and, Joseph L. Mankeiwicz:
A Personal Journey. Cumulatively totaling nearly an hour, and with
extensive reflections offered by Mankiewicz’s two children, this is a great
tribute to the man. Also, from Fox to
Criterion - a video piece on the real Eve/Lawrence/Orr/Berger saga, and, a
brief featurette on the Sarah Siddon's Society. So…what’s new? The short answer
– not much. From 1983, Criterion has unearthed the feature-length documentary, All
About Mankiewicz, and two episodes of The Dick Cavett Show
– the first, from 1969, featuring Bette Davis, and, the latter from 1980, with a haggard Gary Merrill. There is also a brief reflection piece by costume
historian, Larry McQueen, a radio adaptation from 1951, a trailer, and finally,
an essay by Terrence Rafferty that focuses on the 1946 short story that spawned
a cinema classic. Bottom line: if you already own Fox’s Blu-ray, Criterion’s reissue is not so much of an
upgrade as an addendum to your library. Judge and buy accordingly.
FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)
5+
VIDEO/AUDIO
4.5
EXTRAS
5+
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