THE OTHERS: 4K UHD Blu-ray (Miramax, 2001) Criterion
It is accurate to suggest, without the
influence of mega-star, Tom Cruise, Nicole Kidman would likely have never come
to the attention of North American audiences.
For although Kidman, an Aussie by birth, had enjoyed a solid showing of
her formidable talents in her native land, she remained a virtual unknown
internationally before she and Cruise appeared together in Ron Howard’s overwrought,
but widely seen epic, Far and Away (1992). From this auspicious launch,
the world came to know Kidman as a stunningly beautiful creature who, as miraculously,
could also act. And thus, stardom was justly assured. While Kidman’s alliance,
and later marriage to Cruise would not endure (in some ways, it proved disastrous),
Kidman’s success in American cinema would come to dominate the box office at
the end of the 20th century and early 2000’s, capped off by two monumental
performances in 2001: the first, as ill-fated courtesan, Satine, in director,
Baz Luhrman’s revisionist musical extravaganza, Moulin Rouge, the second,
as Grace Stewart, the psychologically tormented mother of two in director,
Alejandro AmenĂ¡bar's The Others.
Of these diametrically different roles,
although her turn as Satine earned Kidman a well-deserved Oscar nod (though,
regrettably, not the win), her Grace Stewart, in The Others has since
proven the more intellectually absorbing and psychologically complex. Written,
as well as directed by AmenĂ¡bar, The Others is the story of an isolated
mother of two who, through an overbearing protectiveness, is quite unaware all
three have long-since become apparitions, trapped in a purgatory of her own
design, and doomed to haunt the remote country estate they once occupied on
Channel Island. Kidman is flanked by some fairly impressive talent here, not
the least, Fionnula Flanagan as Bertha Mills, the newly ensconced housekeeper
with her own secrets to keep, 11-yr.-old, Alakina Mann (transmitting startling
depth as Grace’s self-determined daughter, Anne) and, 10-yr.-old, James Bentley
(as son, Nicholas). The adversarial relationship between Anne and Grace, and,
to a lesser extent, exuded via Anne’s taunting of Nicholas, is what fuels much
of the restrained action for the next hour and forty-four minutes. The
Others is a ghost story – one with much to surprise, but also, generate an unforeseen
respect for the dead who may or may not be ever-present, yet powerless to
impact the world of the living, except through a few well-timed scares.
Also cast, Christopher Eccleston as
Grace’s husband, Charles – who left the family to fight in the war, but never
returned - Eric Sykes as groundskeeper, Edmund Tuttle, and, Elaine Cassidy as
the mute/hired help, Lydia. Sykes and Cassidy really are wasted in this tale, serving
as token spirits. Because The Others is essentially a one-act play,
stretched to the proportions of a three-act movie with one big revelation at
the end of it. Comparisons to 1999’s The Sixth Sense – a film in which another
unknowing deceased is shocked into his reality, and, 1961’s The Innocents
– where children are plagued by curiosities from a perversely wicked past, are
inevitable. Also denied proper exposure here; Keith Allen, Renée Asherson, Michelle
Fairley, Gordon Reid and Alexander Vince – as ‘the livings’ ousted from this brooding
and fog-laden, ancestral perch by the ghostly taunts of the Stewart family.
The Others is proficiently
staged by AmenĂ¡bar to generate a deeply disconcerting ambiance and darkly
purposed sense of foreboding throughout. All of this has been skillfully photographed
by cinematographer, Javier Aguirresarobe, though occasionally, over-simplified
by needless bursts of fitful underscore (also, written for the picture by AmenĂ¡bar).
However, it is the quiescent moments that distill rank fear into its most unique
and nerve-jangling moments, when AmenĂ¡bar simply allows Aguirresarobe’s camera
to methodically give us the lay of the land, focusing primarily on Kidman’s
disturbed central turn, evoking a woman on the edge of reason and sanity.
Thankfully, there are many sustained sequences where this is all that happens.
And it is quite enough, because Kidman has proven she can carry the load, even
in an empty room with nothing to react against except the inner reeling of her character’s
tormented frustrations.
Plot wise: we are on a grand estate
on Channel Island, circa 1945. Here, Grace Stewart resides in total isolation,
the house perpetually engulfed by a dense fog, curtains drawn to protect her children,
Anne and Nicholas from succumbing to their severe photosensitivity. Enter,
housekeeper, Mrs. Bertha Mills, gardener, Edmund Tuttle, and their mute ward,
Lydia, seeking employment. Grace hires this triumvirate, but quickly
establishes the house rules – drapes always to be drawn, and each door locked from
the inside when unoccupied. From the outset, Mrs. Mills senses a tension
between Grace and Anne. Anne insists she has seen a young boy named, Victor (Alexander
Vince) skulking about the place late at night. Anne infers to Nicholas the boy
is a ghost. And although Victor is never seen, Grace must admit to hearing
curious noises coming from the upper floors and attic. Searching the house for
clues, Grace and Mrs. Mills stumble upon a nineteenth-century album. Mrs. Mills
recounts how an 1891 outbreak of tuberculosis felled many in the area. The survivors
later kept a ‘book of the dead’, believing it would preserve their souls as
they traveled to the netherworld. Afterward, Grace suspects supernatural
entities are at play, a fear she cannot reconcile with her devout Catholic
faith. Later, Grace hears the piano in the parlor playing. Departing in search
of the local priest, Grace’s path is barred by a thick rolling fog from whence
her husband, Charles suddenly emerges. And although it has been years since he
left for the war, and was presumed dead, Grace is willing to accept Charles’
return now as legitimate.
For a brief wrinkle in time,
Charles is reunited with Anne and Nicholas and spends the night making love to
his wife in their marital bed. Alas, at the break of dawn, Charles has once
again vanished. In the meantime, Grace confronts Anne who is wearing her first
communion dress, but discovers instead a diseased old hag lurking beneath the veil.
The hag claims to be Anne. Now, Grace is appalled to discover all the drapes in
the house removed, allowing sunlight to stream into all the rooms. Fearing for
her children’s safety, Grace accuses, then expels Mrs. Mills, Mr. Tuttle and
Lydia from the estate. In reply, Mrs. Mills has Mr. Tuttle unearth nearby
headstones previously buried under a pile of rotting leaves, revealing their
names engraved. The servants drive Grace back into the house where she unearths
that the hag pretending to be Anne is actually a psychic holding a séance with
Victor’s parents (Keith Allen, Michelle Fairley). Victor’s mother demands they
leave the estate at once, having learned Grace, consumed by her depression over
Charle’s death in the war, smothered their children, Anne and Nicholas, before
turning a loaded rifle upon herself. Remembering this past, Grace confides it to
her children. They are ghosts, bound to this estate for all time. At dawn’s
first light, Victor and his parents depart for good, with a wistful Victor searching
the windows for a glimpse of the specters who have taunted him. Anne and
Nicholas, no longer photosensitive, listen intensely as Mrs. Mills, suggests new
‘intruders’ will eventually come to their home and try to move in, leaving
Grace and her children to discover another, more meaningful way to cohabitate
alongside the living in the future. However, Grace portentously insists the
house will always remain only theirs.
The Others is an oft
potent, and always proficiently made thriller, a real old-fashioned spook story in the very best sense of this
subgenre. Exteriors were shot at Penshurst Place in Kent and the Palacio de los
Hornillos in Las Fraguas, Cantabria, Northern Spain with several interiors
lensed on soundstages in Madrid. It all photographs rather seamlessly to
recreate a decaying grandeur of old English country living, hermetically sealed
in a shroud of mystery. The best ‘scary’ movies are not about gore, shock or surprise,
but in establishing an enduring and tangible degree of unease that successfully
permeates from the first frame of exposed film to its last. The Others
certainly has this down pat. A pity something more could not have been done
about the plot. Because, once we are introduced to Grace and her children, the
tale tends to meander, then languish in these adversarial mother/daughter moments.
In and of themselves, these scenes
crackle with a very palpable contempt, expertly played out by Nicole Kidman and
Alakina Man. But after the first few scenes get played out, the rest just
becomes more of the same; good, but going nowhere.
Odd too, that Grace, having haunted
these rooms for a considerable length of time, should not have discovered the
graves of Mrs. Mills, Mr. Tuttle and Lydia, situated within viewing distance
from any of the estate’s front room’s large windows. Also curious, Charles,
died in the war, never returned to see what had become of his family. Instead,
it takes three ghosts from without, who died on the estate decades before Grace
and her family took possession, to reveal to the newer spirits they too are not
among the living. Narratively, this is a real problem never entirely dealt with
to the satisfaction of AmenĂ¡bar’s otherwise peerless storytelling. However, none
of this seemed to matter in 2001 – a less jaded epoch in American cinema. Apart
from the late, Roger Ebert, who only scored The Others a 2.5 out of 5,
most critics sang the picture’s praises without reservation. The Others
would go on to gross $96.5 million in the U.S. and Canada and a whopping $24
million in Spain, becoming the highest-grossing movie ever made in Spain. The
world-wide tally was as impressive – topping out at $209.9 million. Viewed
today, The Others remains a devastatingly taut and tenacious thriller. It
is a really good flick to unearth just before Halloween because its chills are
mostly genuine. Even after it becomes narratively apparent where the movie is
headed, the picture’s unsettling atmosphere permeates and persists.
The Others arrives on 4K
Blu-ray via Criterion, originally released by Miramax, with disgraced film maverick,
Harvey Weinstein as one of its executive producers. This new 4K UHD easily
bests the old standard Blu, released via Miramax’s distribution deal with
Universal. It’s rewarding to finally see the overall color temperature brought
back into the ‘cool’ register. The old Blu lent itself to a warm palette but
also tended to muddy the deliberately dark cinematography, adding a green bias.
In 4K, flesh is more accurately rendered. Contrast is uniformly excellent. Fine
details abound, even during the darkest scenes. We have been given a new Dolby
Atmos 7.1 audio too. Apart from a few flourishes of underscore and the
occasional dull thud from something going on elsewhere in the home, there are
very few instances to mark an aggressive soundtrack. Nevertheless, it is the
stillness, with subtler SFX, that now seems to envelop the sound field as never
before, adding another layer of dread to these proceedings. Ported over from
the old Miramax Blu, AmenĂ¡bar’s comprehensive audio commentary. Also retained,
some archival junkets on the making of the movie. To this, Criterion adds a conversation
video essay between AmenĂ¡bar and film critic, Pau GĂ³mez. There is also a new ‘making
of’ produced by StudioCanal in the U.K., and rare audition footage of Alakina
Mann and James Bentley, plus deleted scenes, a trailer, and a printed essay by film
scholar, Philip Horne. Aside: for a while now, Criterion has increasingly
relied upon already produced materials, with limited extras exclusively
produced by them to peddle their wares. Does this make a difference? Only if
you’re buying The Others for the goodies. If not, this 4K transfer,
sourced from an original camera negative, is perfection itself, and, well worth
your dime. Judge and buy accordingly.
FILM RATING (out
of 5 – 5 being the best)
4
VIDEO/AUDIO
5+
EXTRAS
2.5
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