RETURN TO OZ: Blu-ray (The Walt Disney Co., 1985) Walt Disney Club Exclusive

By 1985, the Walt Disney Co. was in a very precarious financial position. The family atmosphere on the backlot, to have lingered for a decade after Walt’s untimely passing in 1966, had itself experienced a rather slow and painful decline as Disney’s original staffers either died or retired, increasingly replaced by management and artisans whose only inclination hinged on a tired ole cliché, “What would Walt do?” This, alas, was not a well-thought-out option, since the hermetically sealed endeavor to preserve Walt’s empire without so much as altering a single shingle to its magic kingdom was increasingly being met by open rejection from the paying public, who somehow had grown weary of the company’s reputation for homespun ‘family’ fare. Thus, into this toxic denial, the world around them was rapidly changing, Disney Inc. took an even more entrenched and tragically bizarre leap of faith to recapture its audience with an ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em’ sojourn into ‘then’ ‘popular’ entertainments. The results were to plunge their executive brain trust into one of the company’s darkest periods and produce some of the studio’s most uneven, if weirdly original film fare of which, 1985’s Return to Oz, the only movie ever directed by Walter Murch, remains its most sinisterly enchanted pièce de résistance.

By then, largely thanks to endless theatrical revivals, and, CBS’s unwaning commitment to televise it twice per annum from 1956 on, 1939’s MGM classic, The Wizard of Oz had evolved into a cultural touchstone with a Teflon-coated reputation to enthrall endless generations, regardless of their age. And while Judy Garland’s trek down the yellow brick road became the template for all child-themed fantasy fare from this golden epoch on, it ought to be pointed out that Metro’s glorious Technicolor masterpiece little resembled the menace or mayhem encapsulated in author, Frank L. Baum’s original Oz franchise. Baum, who literally failed at every financial endeavor he sought to procure before stumbling upon Oz greatness, actually had to sell the rights to his first 3 Oz books just to keep his house. Suffice it to suggest, he was not a shrewd businessman. Nor was he particularly interested in writing a fantasy franchise until literally thousands of letters from little girls began to pour in, declaring their undying gratitude for his fictional creation – Dorothy Gale.  Indeed, with masterful illustrations provided by American caricaturist, W. W. Denslow, the Oz fantasy series introduced an altered state of curious creatures and creations into which Baum’s own political mores found their home.  MGM’s movie, irrefutably beloved, assuaged this cacophony of Oz’s socio-political oddities, in an America overwrought and careworn from the Great Depression, further teetering on the brink of WWII. So, L.B. Mayer’s dream factory – MGM – sought instead to extol the virtues of Baum’s beloved stories, setting aside – largely – its threateningly all-too-real allegories.

Fast track to 1985 and Murch’s desire to do Baum, rather than MGM, justice. Apart from Disney’s begrudging nod to Victor Fleming’s original by paying Metro through the nose for the right to use their ‘ruby slippers’ in their follow-up (notice, I didn’t say sequel, as the original novel’s magical shoes were silver), Return to Oz pays little homage to that aforementioned film classic and therefore, in theme, tone and bearing is not a direct sequel, but a stand-alone attempt to resurrect Baum’s Oz on celluloid – a very tough nut to crack, especially as audience’s expectations remain skewed to this day by their remembrances of Metro’s Oz, the magnificent. In every way, Return to Oz is an ambitious effort, and, arguably, one doomed to failure from the outset; the insurmountable hurdle of getting people to ‘forget’ or, at the very least, set aside their impressions of the MGM movie, only the first ‘brick’ Murch and his artisans hit along their stride and evolution from page to screen. But Disney Inc. – to their credit – in 1985 was looking ahead in continuing to do ‘original’ work that, today, is an anathema to their entrenched verve for nostalgia, what with their endless stream of shot-for-shot live-action remakes of their late 80’s/mid-‘90’s renaissance animated classics, playing it safe with their box office at the high cost of becoming a company looking back to procure future fiscal solvency.  Return to Oz cannot be considered a sequel to The Wizard of Oz, despite the fact its story picks up precisely where the original MGM effort left off. Dorothy Gale, now having regressed in age, played by 11-year-old, Fairzua Balk (pretending to be 9), rather convincingly steps into the knickers and shoes of Baum’s 9-year-old heroine (Judy Garland was 16 when she took her journey down the yellow brick road). Balk makes her return pilgrimage to that once magical land beyond the moon/ behind the rain, only to discover it as bleak, ravaged and in a perilous state of urban decay as the one she left behind in turn-of-the-century Kansas. The ’39 version had Dorothy living on a somewhat idyllic farm, overseen by her kindly Aunt Em and Uncle Henry. But Murch’s reboot gives us a far more selfish and impatient Em (Piper Laurie), whose first inclination after Dorothy refuses to stop babbling about the land of Oz, is to ship her off to an asylum where she is forced to submit to the cruelty of nurse Wilson (Jean Marsh) and the experimental electro-shock therapy of Dr. Worley (Nicol Williamson).

From this devastatingly dark intro, Return to Oz slips even further down its rabbit hole as Dorothy, saved by a fellow inmate during a thunderstorm, is nearly drowned in a hellish tide, only to climb aboard a conveniently floating crate carried away, alongside her beloved talking chicken, Billina (Mak Wilson). Tragically, the long and tenacious tentacles of reality have made their in-roads into Oz as well. Dorothy soon discovers this once-magical oasis transformed into a dystopian nightmare (very much in keeping with Baum’s original vision), the yellow brick road a mere patch of strewn, tainted and disheveled ingots, and, the Emerald City, an abandoned mausoleum, overrun by the terrifying ‘wheelers’ (a troop of hunched and lanky human tricyclists played by John Alexander, Rachael Ashton, Robbie Barnett, Ailsa Berk, Peter Elliott, Roger Ennals, Michele Hine, Mark Hopkins, Colin Skeaping, Ken Stevens, Philip Tan and Rob Thirtle). Only a few relics from her past endure, including the cowardly lion and tin man, but like witnesses to some snake-headed Medusa, have since been paralyzed into stone. Spared utter decimation from the wheelers by Tik-Tok (Sean Barrett) a mechanical man, Dorothy is informed the scarecrow (Justin Case), left behind to govern Oz, has since been taken hostage by the Nome King (also, and rather affectingly, if intermittently played by Williamson as an intricate facsimile in start/stop Claymation) – responsible for the kingdom of Oz’s demise. Dorothy, Billina and Tik-Tok make their pilgrimage to Mombi - Princess of Oz (Sophie Ward/Fiona Victory) who collects heads she intermittently places atop her own headless body. Mombi decides to imprison her new arrivals, plotting to eventually decapitate Dorothy and add her head to this museum-like collection of talking busts.

Locked in the tower of Mombi’s castle, Dorothy and her cohorts are introduced to Jack Pumpkinhead (another of Baum’s originals, played by Brian Henson), who divulges his skeletal remains were brought to life by a magic powder. Launching into their escape from Mombi’s fortress, Dorothy, Jack and the rest assemble a flying creature from a sofa, sporting the head of a moose-like creature known as the Gump (Lyle Conway/Steve Norrington). Bringing their creation to life with Mombi’s fairy-dust talcum, the Gump soars overhead, but proves unable to cross the ‘deadly desert’ – a stretch of impenetrable wasteland from whence, if making any physical contact with its granulated surface, the unwitting plunderer is immediately turned to dust and consumed. The Wheelers, apparently still working for Mombi, lead the wicked queen to the underground in pursuit of Dorothy. Meanwhile, the Gump crash lands inside the Nome King’s mountain. Dorothy is briefly reunited with the scarecrow (now, looking very much like Denslow’s original illustrations) before he is transformed into ‘an ornament in the Nome King’s museum.

The King grants Dorothy but 3 opportunities to recognize which of the many decorous artifacts in the room are actually the scarecrow in disguise. If she fails to wisely select the right one, she too will be transformed into an ornament for all time. The Nome King plies Dorothy with an even more irresistible escape, revealing he now wears the celebrated ruby slippers which afforded him the power to reclaim Oz. If Dorothy will relinquish her desire to liberate her friends from his tyranny, the Nome King promises to use the slippers to send Dorothy back to Kansas. She refuses. And thus, with Mombi’s arrival, the Nome King plots to destroy all who oppose him. Interestingly, his rage is preceded by an explanation for his vengeance against the inhabitants of Oz. It seems, Oz’s predecessors pillaged the Nome King’s mountain for the precious gems they used to build their gleaming city. Thus, he is merely reclaiming what has always belonged to him. Dorothy argues that while this may be true, the scarecrow knew nothing of Oz’s past and is therefore innocent and should be spared his wrath – a rare bit of logic exercised in this otherwise thoroughly unhinged realm of nonsense. On her last guess, Dorothy manages to liberate the scarecrow, and, now realizing all the green objects in the room represent Oz’s petrified inhabitants, proceeds to free Jack and the Gump. Enraged, the Nome King swells into a monstrous shape to consume them all. Mercifully, his attempt to swallow Jack is thwarted when Billina lays an egg in the Nome King’s mouth – somehow proving toxic and causing his subterranean demesne to be destroyed.

As the ornament room implodes, Dorothy seizes the ruby slippers, using them to will the land of Oz and the Emerald City back to its former glory – a very imperialist succession, magically to teleport Dorothy and her cohorts into the lavishly restored metropolis never seen before on celluloid. Oz’s proud inhabitants strut through a Victorian-themed bric-a-brac laden hall of mirrors. Dorothy, spies Princess Ozma (Emma Ridley, who also played the girl who helped Dorothy escape Worley’s hospital) the rightful heir to this kingdom, still imprisoned within a mirror by Mombi and uses a magical key to liberate her. In reply, Ozma uses the power of the ruby slippers to send Dorothy back to Kansas while Billina remains in Oz. Aunt Em finds Dorothy on the river banks and informs her Dr. Worley has since died after his clinic was struck and burned to the ground by lightning. The evil nurse Wilson has also been arrested. Returning to her drab farm house, Dorothy sees Billina and Ozma reflected in her bedroom mirror. Smartly, she elects to keep her friends a secret this time, departing the house to play with Toto instead.

Return to Oz was originally in the works under Walt’s tutelage almost 31-years prior to the actual date of its theatrical release. And while it remains questionable what Walt would have made of Baum’s stories, what became of them under Murch’s baton, alongside screenwriter, Gill Dennis, remains an altogether uncanny and forbiddingly purposed fantasy curio of oddities that, at their core, nevertheless pay affecting homage to Frank L. Baum’s pantheon of imagination. A troubled production on so many levels, not the least to endure a management shake-up that threatened to put the already well-underway project in permanent turn-around, and later, the suspension of Murch, who had fallen behind schedule and was therefore hemorrhaging badly needed capital, perhaps the most miraculous achievement of Return to Oz is, it eventually hit theaters with Murch’s original vision pretty much intact. It took the clout of George Lucas to get Murch reinstated on the film. But even then, delays were a chronic occurrence on the set. At nearly 6ft. in height, the only way actor, Sean Barrett could perform his duties as the diminutive Tik-Tok was to be folded practically in half at the waist with his head pointed downward between his legs, then bolted into the mechanical man’s poorly ventilated metal shell, leading to bouts of chronic fatigue and dehydration. Newly imposed budgetary restrictions made short-shrift of both the scarecrow and Pumpkinhead’s make-up, their stationary visages lacking any expression to accompany their finely voiced characterizations.

If any criticism can be lobbed against Return to Oz, it is that in temperament and execution the picture absolutely fails to live up to the 1939 masterpiece from MGM – itself, a near absolute departure from Baum and Denslow’s original vision, but to have successfully eclipsed it by the time Return to Oz came to fruition. David Shire’s orchestral score, while effectively to reach the pomp and majesty of any great film score from this period, nevertheless lacks the hummable Yip Harburg/Harold Arlen songs since gone on to enchant generations of movie goers. The most devastating blow to fans of the MGM classic, however, is that the Oz in this movie is not a fantastic landscape of daydreams and lollypops where such tunes would be welcomed. While very much inspired by Baum, this Oz is too apocalyptic to be forgotten, or even forgiven by the time this Dorothy manages to work her spell to resurrect it to its former ‘hall of smoke and mirrors’ glory. Somber, unnerving, and in two memorable sequences – the Wheelers attack on Dorothy and Mombi’s hall of talking heads – downright terrifying as a horror movie, Return to Oz deprives its audience of that Technicolor-ed sumptuous optimism, its newly minted creatures and creations, void of secret longings and thus, merely to exist rather than live in this darkly purposed labyrinth. Walter Murch, a sound editor by trade, would never direct another feature and it’s no wonder. Return to Oz was utterly savaged by critics and virtually shunned by audiences. The picture’s paltry $11 million box office intake (against a $28 million budget) seemed to solidify its reputation as a grotesque bastardization of the original Oz’s sincerity and heart. And yet, what lingers in the mind’s eye long after the houselights have come up is far from an artistic failure. Indeed, Return to Oz’s production designer, Norman Reynolds had just come off an impressive spate of mega hits, to include the last two sequels in the original Star Wars trilogy; 1980’s The Empire Strikes Back, and 1983’s Return of the Jedi, not to mention Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981).  And Will Vinton’s Claymation, Oscar-nominated no less, is as impressive as any visual effects could be pre-CGI. There is some really good stuff here, with Reynolds and Vinton’s dystopian vision for Oz given subtle nods to J. R. R. Tolkien’s Middle Earth.

That Dennis’ screenplay seems more of a trashed together amalgam, derived from two of Baum’s sequels to The Wonderful Wizard of Oz – 1904’s The Marvelous Land of Oz, and 1907’s Ozma of Oz is regrettable. Return to Oz does, in fact, play like a series of vignettes loosely strung together, with Dorothy’s vague ‘journey’ thematically ripped from the MGM movie. Unlike MGM’s Oz, the Oz she finds herein upon her return does not entreat her to remain. It threatens to give her nightmares for life. The MGM film, to its everlasting credit, skillfully interpolated this darkness, mostly supplied by Margaret Hamilton’s iconic Wicked Witch of the West, with the Arlen/Harburg songs, rather skillfully to mask the seamline transitions between these vignettes. Return to Oz lacks in this luxury. So, Murch takes us on his carnival-esque ‘dark ride’ into a fantasy abyss more thinly reminiscent of 1986’s Labyrinth. This Oz actually looks a lot like rural reincarnations of the dystopian mecca on display in Sidney Lumet’s as artistically awkward and costly misfire, The Wiz (1978), with its torn-up remnants of the yellow brick road remade as a pile of rubble, fit for the wrecking ball, and, its beach bulk head, strewn in rock formations sporting contorted faces. What remains of the Emerald City is a page torn from Soylent Green (1973), strewn in stone-petrified cremations to make the likes of the last days of Pompei look like a volcanic afterthought. And the weirdly disturbing creatures since to have grown up in all this netherworld fallout are neither loveable or beloved as they appear awful, occasionally repulsive, and always slightly agonized in a torment of their own design.  To his credit, Murch is not interesting in aping the MGM classic. But he also fails to acknowledge that an Oz without even an ounce of suspension in disbelief and beguilement to lull and entice our heroine to stay is decidedly not a place any child, even one as steadfast in her resolve as Dorothy Gale, would wish to remember. So, this Oz is decidedly something to escape from rather than jump into.  

Looking back on Return to Oz, one can respect even its cringeworthy misfires as ambitious, if blind-sided filmmaking. Murch’s version of Oz remains a traumatic place, only accessible to humanity by some cataclysmic events anchoring its protagonist in the real world – in the MGM classic, a tornado, in Murch’s case, a hellish thunderstorm and subsequent flood. What follows after Dorothy Gale leaves Kansas behind this second time around is a surreal hallucination, on occasion, to chill to the bone. Many forget, and Murch certainly has no interest in reminding us, that the original protagonist of Baum’s Oz series was a little boy named Tip, sold into slavery to an evil old crone. Dorothy came later. But Murch, who had pitched the idea to Disney’s production chief, Tom Wilhite in 1980 had little to anticipate from his initial meeting, especially as he was unaware the studio’s copyright on the Baum books was fast about to run out. The company’s president, Ron W. Miller then hastened to announced, the studio had brokered a deal for an entirely new story based on Baum’s stories. Vancouverite, Fairuza Balk, and, Brit-born, Emma Ridley reveled in their respective roles as Dorothy and Ozma, although Ridley’s voice would eventually be dubbed by Murch’s own daughter, Beatrice to sport a more ‘American-sounding’ voice. As Murch fell behind during pre-production, Disney scrapped the idea of shooting in ‘authentic’ locations ranging from Algeria to Italy. Instead, Return to Oz was shot almost entirely on soundstages and sets built at London’s Elstree Studios, with the Kansas sequence filmed at nearby Salisbury Plain. After the original cinematographer, Freddie Francis, quit, due to artistic differences with Murch, the studio became more skeptical about Murch’s ability to finish the film on time and on budget. Relieved of his duties, but almost immediately reinstated after George Lucas agreed to step in should further mishaps occur, Murch sojourned onward into Oz mythology – making most of it up as he went along, and, so described by co-star, Jean Marsh as “like a mad, vague professor… totally original.”

Return to Oz had a rather lavishly appointed premiere at Radio City Music Hall on June 21, 1985, costing the Walt Disney Co. a staggering $6 million in additional PR. They even added a Return to Oz float to their Disneyland and Walt Disney World Main Street Electrical Parades. Tragically, their optimism for a failsafe Oz addendum did not bear itself out in solid box office. And worse, the picture was so badly maligned by most movie critics, as yet another example of the company’s ‘out of touch’ attitude with the reality of the picture-making biz, that after a spate of early VHS, Betamax and Laserdisc releases – none under the official ‘Disney’ banner (they actually farmed it out to Anchor Bay Entertainment), Return to Oz quietly faded into obscurity. Curiously, those who had seen it theatrically, continued to remember it…if not, fondly, then certainly, for the shock value it contributed to their otherwise mid-80’s idyllic childhoods. Whether intentionally or ‘un’, Return to Oz is a psychological sand trap, cleverly to lure its’ pint-sized audience with the expectation of seeing ‘another’ Wizard of Oz, but then rather deliberately to take a pick axe to our shared childhood fears. Of the 80 such signifiers listed in The Fear Schedule Survey for Children – Revised, then considered the prevailing text on childhood phobias – 40 are directly manifested in Return to Oz, with another 16 analogously on tap for good measure.

Return to Oz eventually arrived on DVD and then, this Blu-ray – another Disney Club Exclusive I have only recently had the opportunity to screen. Is it a quality affair? Like most every 1080p transfer to arrive via the ‘club’ – this one is competently rendered, but could have been better. David Watkins’ cinematography (with an uncredited assist from Freddie Francis) always skewed to a more sustained and muted palette. But here, colors just seem a tad dull and rather uninspired. Even during the Oz renewal finale that I vaguely recall from my own theatrical experience back in ’85 as being of a transitional richness and vibrancy to contrast with all the drabness preceding it, herein is marginally colorful, while never rising to that remembered level of glitzy glamor, sparkling off the big screen. Overall image clarity is remarkable, especially during well-lit sequences. We get solid contrast too, and film grain appearing indigenous to its source without age-related artifacts intruding.  The 5.1 DTS is a bit of a downer, lacking the fullness – even of a mid-80’s Dolby track – with dialogue front and center and surrounds only occasionally springing to life, mostly with Shire’s celebrated underscore. As with every other ‘club/exclusive’, Disney has scrimped on extras. I have said it before, but will state it again, that to eliminate original ‘extra’ content produced for the DVDs from these Blu-ray reissues is a pretty idiotic executive decision.  Back in the day, Disney DVDs sported, arguably, the most comprehensive extra features to accompany any home video release. Only Criterion gave Disney Inc. a run for its money then. But the Disney Club either sees no re-sale value in these expertly produced featurettes, or is merely intent to keep the rich legacy of Walt and his successors under lock and key, depriving future generations of the magic going on behind the curtain. Either way, it’s a totally idiotic decision that, by now, in a just and sane world (right…where am I living?!?) ought to have been made antique. Bottom line: Return to Oz is a weird and not altogether wonderful movie to experience. I still think its waaay out of whack with its target audience - children. Kiddies will be traumatized. Adults will merely wonder what in the hell is going on. The Blu-ray is competently crafted, but not exemplary. Selling for upwards of $50-60 bucks from third-party sellers on Amazon, it is hardly a steal. So, you really have to love this movie to want to drop that much coin. Judge and buy accordingly!

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

2.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

3.5

EXTRAS

0