REDS: Blu-ray re-issue (Paramount, 1981) Paramount Home Video

The era of the big-ticket Hollywood star using his box office clout to straddle both sides of the camera was, as yet, a rare occurrence when Warren Beatty undertook to make Reds (1981), an oft lyrical indictment of capitalism that, curiously, never found its panacea of promise in Marxist/Leninist communism. Beatty, who not only directed, but co-wrote, starred and produced Reds according to his own dictates, proved unequivocally that the taboo subject could be viable box office. Indeed, Reds would go on to earn $40 million on its theatrical release, a figure eclipsed by its costly $32 million outlay. In post-production, Beatty – driven by an obsession for perfection – employed, by some estimates, 65 contributors to help edit the unwieldy 2.5 million feet of film he had shot on location in Helsinki, Finland (subbing in for Mother Russia), Spain, England and all over America, including Manhattan, D.C. and California. The affair between Beatty and costar, Diane Keaton had already begun to cool by the time they began shooting their first scenes together. It is rumored, Reds hastened the demise of their relationship. That said, it did absolute wonders for the antagonistic sparring of their big screen alter-egos, John ‘Jack’ Reed and Louise Bryant.

A political film at its core, the outer layering of Beatty's 3 hr. epic remains a fascinating bio pic of outspoken pro-communist sympathizer/journalist, Jack Reed - the only American to be buried in the Kremlin. Early on, Jack meets a kindred spirit in aspiring writer/propagandist, Louise Bryant - a very determined and self-righteous gal whose boulder-sized chip on her shoulder will shortly be chiseled down to size by the two men who come to influence her heart and mind; Jack and renowned playwright, Eugene O'Neill (rather uninspired as conceived by Jack Nicholson). Reds is a love story set against the momentous backdrop of the Russian revolution. The film contrasts the realities of the revolution, as seen through Jack and Louise’s eyes, and America’s rather naïve view of communism and the homegrown ‘radicals’ who support it. Beatty is so on point thematically and in his direction, ditto for his sparring with the frequently frustrated Louise, we can almost excuse his depiction of Reed as an occasionally foppish and singularly-motivated man who lacks the basic understanding a woman's heart must be occasionally satisfied if she is to remain at his side. Louise strays only once – and with another cynical intellectual, Eugene O'Neill. Shortly thereafter, she desperately regrets this indiscretion.

The screenplay, co-written by Beatty and Trevor Griffiths, is a miracle of concision, which seems a contradiction, given the movie's lengthy 198-min. run-time. But Reds is superbly assembled to make the hours pass as exhilarating as a Bolshevik demonstration in Red Square. Moreover, the dialogue dazzles and is razor-sharp, moving the story at a breakneck pace that, even more skillfully, never seems rushed or struggling for something meaningful to say. When the movie's protagonists are not astutely critiquing the socialist quagmire enveloping their lives, they are passionate in their love, entwined in a sort of internationally felt angst, and enamored by the art of being politically savvy to the detriment of their own personal happiness.  Beatty has used the documentarian's framework, interviewing real people who knew Jack Reed, collectively billed in the credits simply as ‘the witnesses’ - their voices, serving as bookends and intermittent respites to cleverly expand our knowledge and opinions of these central figures while economically advancing the narrative timeline, sometimes by years: montages, set to the International and other timely music from the period. The cumulative effect promotes not only the immediacy in the exercise, but the truth behind it; the lives of legends, much too opinionated to end happily ever after.

Reds possesses the pedigree of a sprawling historical epic told by David Lean. And while it is every bit as reverent in its subject matter and situations as Lean’s epics were in his own time, Reds is infused with the connective tissue of a very soft spot for cynical comedy. The biting dialogue colors virtually every frame, even the seemingly toss-away moments, into a vastly superior deconstruction of raw human emotions. Condensing 2 lives into 3 hours, Beatty allows us to have an ‘experience’ rather than a moment with these characters – each, fully vetted for their virtues and vices. To make Reds, Beatty brokered a sweetheart's deal with Paramount Pictures, agreeing to appear in their remake of 1941’s Here Comes Mr. Jordan, rechristened, Heaven Can Wait, 1978. The picture was a huge hit. Despite most of the executive branch’s belief that a movie about communism and communist sympathizers had about as much box office appeal as a musical about syphilis, Paramount’s Barry Diller agreed to Beatty’s terms. Undaunted, Beatty set about to illustrate a certain unmitigated flair for the 'message', but wisely elected to balance the social issues with sure-fire entertainment value and the appeal of a good ole-fashioned love story. The results are tantalizing and exceptional: an exquisitely literate epic, best served by Vittorio Storaro's hauntingly delicate and soft-diffused cinematography.

Reds is so in and of the moment, and so obviously Beatty’s valentine to those gallant challengers of the status quo, it just feels genuine as a document belonging to history more than a fictionalized account put on display for our benefit. The movie’s performances are juicy and timeless. Diane Keaton has arguably never been better, and Beatty – particularly, in his romantic sparring with her, is superbly confrontational. Beatty is less on the mark when expressing Reed's fervor for communism, his speeches coming across as more platitudinous than passionate. And Reds, despite its pro-commi manifesto, endeavors to illustrate the unanticipated repercussions in turning the world – or at least part of it – upside down for the sake of social change. Indeed, the real loss of lives in service to this cause was nothing short of appalling - capped off by Reed's own sacrifice, leaving an uncertain future for Louise, who weeps genuine tears at his bedside. Beatty’s furor for Reds was stirred in the mid-sixties when he came across a story about John Reed. From here, the kernel of a screenplay began to ferment – 3-long years to achieve a first draft (titled ‘Comrades’), then nearly another decade in constant collaboration with co-writer, Griffiths. For some time thereafter, Beatty hired Robert Towne, Peter Feibleman and Elaine May to continue polishing his script.

Due to Beatty’s overwhelming success and popularity after Heaven Can Wait Paramount green-lit Reds. But then, Charles Bluhdorn, the head of Gulf+Western (Paramount's parent company), began to get cold feet, even offering Beatty the promise to underwrite a cool $25 million on any other project of the star’s choosing. No dice. Having already assumed the weighty responsibilities on both sides of the camera on both Heaven Can Wait and Bonnie and Clyde (1967), Beatty was certain he wanted neither to direct nor star in Reds. Necessity changed his mind, after John Lithgow – his first choice for Reed – turned him down. Meanwhile, Diane Keaton, then Beatty’s paramour, signed on to co-star as Reed’s lover. The real affair du Coeur that preceded the one captured for posterity on the screen did not survive the making of the picture. But Keaton – despite her bitterness then – has since reconciled her respect and admiration for the fine work she and Beatty wrought collaboratively. Perhaps rather naively, Beatty had budgeted for a sixteen-week shoot; a nearly insurmountable allotment that dragged on for almost an entire year and was exacerbated by co-star, Maureen Stapleton’s refusal to travel to London by plane because of her fear of flying. As a compromise, Stapleton agreed to cross the North Atlantic by tramp steamer. But this backfired when the vessel became stranded in the middle of the ocean and had to be towed to Amsterdam.

Reds opens with an unassuming ‘main title’ sequence, a bit of Scott Joplin ragtime to set the mood. ‘The witnesses’ make their varying testaments about Jack and Louise – some ripened with age, others, faded with age.  The witnesses serve as our Greek chorus into this bygone era. They set a stage for what little remains of the past – a peculiar and utterly fascinating in-road, and a very unique anchor to this highly personalized history. We get inserts of Reed’s daring exploits, covering the exploits of Pancho Villa in Mexico in 1913. Jack is already an accomplished, if slightly ego-maniacal journalist when he meets Louise Bryant, uninspired in her marriage to Portland dentist, Paul Trullinger (Nicolas Coster) and attending a gallery art exhibit, one portrait depicting her entirely nude from the waist up, much to her husband’s chagrin. Paul sees Louise’s exhibitionism as nothing more profound than cheap attention-seeking. She is incensed by his inference that she is desperate for praise. Louise attends a political rally where she first catches a glimpse of John Reed (everybody calls him Jack). His curt reply, when asked what the war is all about – “profits” – impresses Louise. Like herself, here is someone who could not give two hoots what the status quo thinks. Despite Jack’s aversion to giving interviews, he grants Louise a private audience in her atelier and thereafter talks her ear off into the wee hours of the next morning with one continuous and seemingly uninterrupted train of social commentary. Dismissed thereafter, without so much as a flirtatious ‘thank you’, Jack rather sheepishly gets roped into reading some of Louise’s work.

Alas, he is not altogether impressed with Louise’s prose and encourages her to learn something of life firsthand by following him to Greenwich Village. There, she meets some of Jack’s friends, including writer, Max Eastman (Edward Herrmann), newspaper publisher, Pete Van Werry (Gene Hackman), lecherous book publisher, Horace Whigham (George Plimpton), playwright, Eugene O’Neill and proto-feminist/anarchist, Emma Goldman (Maureen Stapleton) who rather astutely surmises “I think voting is the opium of the masses in this country. Every four years you deaden the pain.” Again, Louise finds she does not fit into this nonconformist’s glitterati. Steadily, she begins to resent Jack for having brought her to New York. Because Jack is truly in love with Louise, he agrees to move them to Provincetown, Massachusetts; a chance to hone their writer’s craft and share a life together.  The couple quickly establish themselves in the local theater scene. Louise transforms herself into a radical of some enduring stature. Questioned by the Senate for her beliefs, Louise’s outspokenness earns her many detractors. “Does one have to be God-fearing and a Christian to be decent?” she fights back, adding, “The Bolsheviks believe it is religion, particularly Christianity, that has held the Russian people back for so many centuries. If any of you had ever been to Russia and seen their peasants you might think they had a point. On the subject of decency, senator, the Bolshevik’s took power with the slogan ‘an end to the war’. Within six months they made good their promise to the Russian people.  Now, the present President of the United States went to this country in 1916 on a ‘no war’ ticket and within six month he had taken us into the war and 150,000 young Americans didn’t come back. If that’s how descent, God-fearing Christians behave give me atheists any time.”

Meanwhile, Jack’s involvement in labor strikes as a spokesman for the Communist Labor Party of America means he is spending more and more time on the road, steadily becoming obsessed with changing the world.  As Jack prepares to cover the 1916 Democratic Convention in St. Louis, he discovers one of his kidneys is failing – a condition he keeps secret from Louise. The ailing organ eventually removed, Dr. Lorber (Gerald Hiken) encourages Jack to slow down and live a healthier lifestyle. During Jack’s absence, Louise begins a rather complicated affair with Eugene O'Neill. Returning home, Jack catches Louise and O’Neill locked in a passionate embrace in an adjacent room during a ‘welcome home’ gathering. Preferring to remain silent, for the time being, Jack suddenly realizes how much he cares for Louise. Proposing marriage, Jack whisks Louise off to a quiet house in Croton-on-Hudson, north of New York. For a time, the couple is serenely contented. But then, Louise gets wind of Jack’s infidelities. To offset her self-righteousness, Jack calls Louise out on her affair with O’Neill. Embittered, she departs in haste to become a war correspondent in Europe. Despite his doctor’s warnings, Jack pursues Louise to the south of France where he begs her to join him in Russia. The Imperialist nation is on the brink of collapse. And what a story it will make to be there when Lenin and his rebels take power.  Despite her misgivings, Louise goes to Moscow. There, she and Jack rekindle their passion for each other amidst the tumult of the revolution.

One of the most ebullient montages in Reds involves old school character actor, Joseph Buloff (whom many will recall as Ivanov, one of three Russian emissaries sent to Paris in the ebullient MGM musical, Silk Stockings, 1957). Herein, Buloff is the sage, Joe Volski – offering anecdotal quips to lighten the mood during their arduous crossing into Russia. Jack and Louise get their first glimpse of sobering clarity as their train pulls into a remote outpost; Russian soldiers, some as young as fourteen, wounded, hungry, some, dying/most, cynical. This is but a prelude to the chaos in Moscow; a myriad of parades, rallies, political debates and marching in the streets. Jack writes and publishes Ten Days that Shook the World – a best seller that garners much support back home for the Revolution. He and Louise meet Lenin (Roger Sloman) and Trotsky (Stuart Richman). Alas, returning to America, the couple quickly realizes paranoid resentment of communism has generated fear of the party. Jack’s notes on the revolution are confiscated at customs; Max, assuring Jack, he will get them back later. At Croton, Jack finds a poem written by O’Neill to Louise tucked between the pages of one of his favorite books. Although its authorship dates all the way back to the start of their affair, its discovery now nevertheless stirs old animosities. Louise and Jack grow apart. Worse, the American Communist Party is split between rival factions – the first, helmed by Louis Fraina (Paul Sorvino), and the other, siding with Jack. Jack lands in hot water, and temporarily in jail, after a supposedly peaceful worker’s strike turns ugly.

Hoping to legitimize his end of the Party, Jack returns to Russia without Louise. Only now, he must cross the border illegally. Owing to his reputation, Jack is quickly seconded to the purposes of the Communist Party in Russia, overseen by Grigori Zinoviev (Jerzy Kosinski) and the Bolsheviks. Zinoviev and the committee delay Jack’s request to be legitimized back home so they may take full advantage of his skills as an orator and writer for their own propaganda. Tragically, Jack’s request is turned down by the committee. Nor will they allow him to return immediately to America. Zinoviev explains that while Jack can always go home, he will never be able to return to this pivotal moment in history. Unable to reconcile what he perceives as a betrayal, Jack elects to make the dangerous trek through Finland to cross the border illegally. He is caught, interrogated and briefly imprisoned in Finland. Learning of his predicament, Louise tries to sneak into Finland to reclaim her husband. However, by the time she arrives at the prison, Louise discovers Jack has already returned to Moscow. Miraculously, the couple are accidentally reunited at a railway terminal. But now, it becomes increasingly obvious the mileage Jack has racked up on his body has wrecked his one remaining good kidney. As his health deteriorates, Jack is forced to hospital - a filthy hovel where he is attended to around the clock by Louise, who recognizes the severity of the situation. One evening, while at his bedside, Jack draws a moment of clarity that stirs Louise’s optimism. She hurries to fetch fresh water, only to learn from a gathering of doctors and nurses that Jack has quietly died. Their journey and the dream that once was filled with promise for the future is at an end.

Reds is Warren Beatty’s bravura moment as both star and film maker. His mastery of storytelling and command of cinema language makes Reds as gorgeous visual tapestry as it remains a sublime drama fraught with emotional integrity. In 1981, Reds was by far the most ambitious movie in production, shooting all over the world as Beatty searched for his verisimilitude in Europe and at home.  Superficially, Reds plays as an odyssey of near Homeric proportions, devoted to the life and times of that Byronic zeitgeist in radical journalism. And while Beatty’s portrait of ‘Jack’ Reed occasionally lacks Reed’s own impetus as an eloquent orator, Beatty nevertheless puts forth a proposal, as much for Jack Reed – human being, as for his canonization as a reactionary martyr. Beatty’s ingenious parallel between capitalist and communist systems of government is a fairly accurate, if rather grotesque testament to the old adage about politics making for some very strange bedfellows – each, generating its own levels of intolerance and miserly contempt for the marginalized factions in their respective societies.

Visually, Reds is a towering historical contraption, uncannily void of even a hint of sentimentality or nostalgia for its time or its characters. In many ways, it simply ‘is’ a document about that tumultuous period in history, expressing rather than romanticized either Bohemianism or the political views of the moment. The trick and majesty derived herein is that Reds feels far more intimate than sprawling, the Beatty/Griffith screenplay telescopically focused on Jack and Louise. Beatty never loses sight of the fact Reds needs to be a love story in order to click with its audience, even as his two protagonists never find a common ground between them as the earth ever-shifts beneath their feet until, ostensibly, it is too late. Depicted with tragic hindsight, Reds evolves into a monumental character study of one man whose legacy, at least in America, has been all but expunged from the public’s consciousness today. Reed’s unflinching boldness as a superb documenter, his implacable devotion to the cause steadily slipping through his fingertips, and, his penultimate realization that his work has come with certain inescapable sacrifices he pays for dearly, are moments effectively to transform Reds into the sort of gargantuan and emotionally satisfying movie experience Hollywood has not even attempted in a great while.  

The vast assemblage of noteworthy performers peppered throughout are capped off by luminous turns from Maureen Stapleton – a rock of rationality, self-possessed with an unsophisticated wit, and Jerzy Kosinski’s startling debut as an actor. Kosinski infuses Zinoviev with a fetching articulateness. The anomaly to disappoint is undeniably Jack Nicholson’s Eugene O’Neill – ironic this, since Nicholson is one of the finest actors of his generation.  Nicholson worried from the outset that he could not play ‘thin’.  Reading up all he could on O’Neill’s life, the actor nevertheless continued to have his misgivings.  Beatty’s assurances ought to have given Nicholson the conviction to pursue O’Neill on his own terms.  And while Nicholson is always compelling as a screen presence, he never quite inhabits the skin of his character.  The real Eugene O’Neill was a pessimistic alcoholic.  Nicholson’s reincarnation is mere typecast and prone to bouts of rank cynicism.  The witnesses, to include the likes of Roger Baldwin, Henry Miller, Adela Rogers St. Johns, Scott Nearing, Isaac Don Levine, Rebecca West, Will Durant, George Seldes and George Jessel, are a steadfast bunch - as lively, forthright and moving as any of their ‘fictional’ counterparts – more so, in fact. Beatty exploits their collective memories to time-manage the picture’s narrative expediency and Reds is forever richer and moving for it.

After the intermission, Beatty’s pacing is not nearly as sure-footed, the picture, just a little ‘top heavy’ – its myriad of montages depicting a vast assortment of big historically accurate scenes, tending to get in the way of its spellbinding intimacy. The latter third of Reds gets congested with fact rather than enveloped by emotions. This is a problem. Mercifully, it never becomes an insurmountable hurdle. Beatty, whose strengths as a film maker are more expertly fashioned to handle the innermost over the grandiose, keeps tedium or worse, anesthetizing spectacle at bay.  Imbued with the immediacy of its times and a richness in dialogue, more naturally the way people talk, Reds is also the benefactor of Vittorio Storaro’s Oscar-winning cinematography, as well as Dede Allen and Craig McKay’s superb juxtaposition of static shots, expertly played drama and breathtaking montages, ingeniously reassembled as a healthily paced entertainment with few equals. Reds is a powerhouse, plain and simple - a movie that needs to be seen and re-seen by each generation. Magnificent is too ‘liberal’ a word to describe it.

In 2018, Paramount released a 2-disc Blu-ray of Reds that left much to be desired. Despite spreading the movie across 2-Blu-rays, presumably, to better utilize the bit rate, the image was marginally plagued by some video-based noise, especially in the credits, and some curious gate weave and image instability that wreaked havoc on static master shots intermittently inserted throughout our story. Lingering artifacts and crushed shadow delineation were also evident, and while Paramount did, arguably, its best work remastering Reds some years ago, it could certainly have used a new remaster to perfect its image quality for the first Blu-ray. So, permit us to worship at the altar again, as Reds has received a new 4K master upgrade, albeit – again, dumbed down to 1080p for a second, and most welcomed Blu-ray release. Aside: odd, Paramount should not have included this movie as part of their ‘Paramount Presents…’ line-up of movies, celebrating the studio’s illustrious heritage. Then again, that franchise collection includes such stinkers as The Golden Child (1986). But, I digress. This time around, the results could not be more different or gratifying. Where colors used to be bland, dull and bleached out to the point of obscuring the subtleties in Vittorio Storaro’s cinematography, the 40^th Anniversary reissue of Reds sports vibrant, eye-popping and gorgeous tones, surely to please. The palette here favors…well…reds…or rather, an infinitely warmer caste. It does wonders for flesh tones. There is also a startling amount of fine detail, particularly in close-ups. We can actually see subtle freckles on Diane Keaton’s face.   are mostly recaptured. Skin tones in particular are stunning in close-up. The thin patina of curious haze that afflicted the original Blu is gone. The image here is crisp with little untoward digital tinkering. There are still several shots that appear to be afflicted by a light touch of edge enhancement. But these are intermittent and over-all, non-obtrusive. Best of all, film grain has been brought back into line. It looked gritty on the 2018 effort but is naturally thick looking here.

While Paramount’s first Blu spread the movie across 2 discs, to include a slew of extras on the second Blu-ray, this reissue compresses the entire feature onto a single disc, confining the extras on disc 2. For the feature, we get 2 audio options: a remastered Dolby Digital 5.1 and 2.0 original mono mix. Neither is particularly satisfying as dialogue, while generally clean, occasionally gets compressed. Background folio is very tinny and dated, even in keeping with the capabilities of vintage Dolby, circa 1981. Quiescent scenes suffer from background hiss. Actually, I preferred the 2.0 to the 5.1. On Disc 2, Paramount has ported over the a nearly hour-long documentary on the making of the movie. Warren Beatty – usually a notorious recluse – breaks with tradition and hosts this informative and thoroughly satisfying retrospective, to also feature Jack Nicholson, Edward Herrmann, Paul Sorvino and other behind-the-scenes cast members. In the final analysis, Reds is an immense accomplishment by any measure of artistic merit one may choose to ascribe to it. This movie belongs on everyone’s top-shelf. The new-to-Blu offers an exemplary presentation of a movie truly rife with that rare exhilaration that comes from experiencing a ‘one of a kind’ entertainment, well worth your time and hard-earned coin. Bottom line: Very highly recommended!

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

5+

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

4.5